CHAPTER EIGHT
On my way to Marie's place, it had been an early afternoon. We had a ton of free time today, in which I inadvertently spent sneaking out of camp once more.
Today also happens to be the day where the Scouts return from their expedition, venturing straight to the innermost wall (from what I heard) to attend some confidential business.
Unfortunately for them, they weren't even given time to rest fresh from an expedition. They were demanded to the capital right away, perhaps about a matter tackling their apparent ineffectiveness.
The gates opened, which also happened to be near Marie's place. It was also my typical route in seeing Marie, using only my horse as my means of transportation.
People clad in green cloaks entered the gate.
Some had their hoods up and the rest had let it fall on their back, some weren't even wearing them.
What I noticed right away was the tear in the material, the blood that tainted them, and the carriages filled with what appears to be their casualties.
It was the majority.
I swallowed thickly, biting my bottom lip as I observed the dim looks on their faces.
None of them were smiling or showed a single sign of their progress. They simply held solemn faces, eyes looking as though they had seen hell and back.
Some lacked limbs, some were still covered in blood, and the rest looked entirely exhausted.
Dark eyes, dark bags under them, color drained from their faces, and pale chapped lips that looked as though they were both anemic and severely hydrated.
They looked like moving corpses.
"The Scouts again." One bystander scowled with a scornful look on his face. "Seriously, they're just feeding off our taxes to cattle. Not a single progress ever since, it only proves their entire regiment is useless and a joke!"
I clenched my jaw upon hearing his words. I was half-glad I wasn't wearing my military uniform or else I would have been quickly reported and discovered by my superiors if I ever happen to punch the guy.
A young lady, seemingly in her mid-20's, approached the guy in front who I immediately identified as Keith Shadis.
"Commander, I don't see Milo anywhere. Are there still more coming?" She asked, hopeful.
My heart broke for her, knowing immediately what Shadis' grave look meant.
"It's Milo's wife." Shadis turned towards a Captain before the commanded female went to retrieve a cloth from the carriage, quickly galloping in her horse towards the woman who looked in confusion.
As soon as she received the bag made of cloth, she opened it and immediately screamed with eyes wide with terror. She dropped the bag and there revealed an amputated leg that still looked about a day fresh.
The other bystanders winced and turned away, muttering in disgust and pity for the young woman.
I felt sick to my stomach as I watched her sob and wail loudly in front of the amputated leg, repeating her lover's name in utter despair.
"That was all we could retrieve." Was all Keith Shadis said before continuing on their horses, leaving the woman to weep in the middle of the road, soon being ushered gently by the other civilians to a safer location.
I watched their backs as they went away with their body-filled carriages.
That was most likely the fate of a scout, I knew that. And although the idea of dying in the hands of titans terrified me as I have never seen a titan before, it was the only life I could ever imagine myself living.
Spare me from having to pick a useless regiment where my training in the military isn't even necessarily used or utilized, spare me from having to deal with the corrupted ways of our government system, spare me from having to live an artificially 'normal' life as those around me live theirs, spare me from having to play house with a woman I know I'd never love.
That was exactly what was expected of me.
To get a safe job where I can laze around and still make a living, to have to endure and accept the way the system is, to find a girl and settle down, to find a house to call our home, to procreate when the lives within these walls are already suffering from poverty and overpopulation.
Spare me from that ill fate.
On my way to my sister's place, I could not avoid fidgeting with my hands as I thought about how in 5 months— we would graduate from the military and get to choose what we want to do after.
While I did not care if I make it to the top 10 or not, I was pretty positive that Nile and Miche would make it.
Then, Erwin would be the top of our class, obviously.
He was exceptional in our academic studies, good at hand-to-hand combat, and is exceptionally gifted in the ODM gear. Not to mention, his bright mind that is able to think of solutions easily was widely acknowledged by our superiors.
Wherever he chooses to go, I knew he would succeed and make it to the top. That's just the way he is. He was born with greatness engraved in his destiny.
And speaking of him, Erwin Smith's effect on me has not changed in the slightest.
I still blush when we meet eyes, and I get easily flustered when he tries to talk to me.
Every time his face gets too close or his voice draws near, I would be reminded of the events that happened the other night.
His strong chiseled face that looked more vivid up close when his air fans against my skin, his deep husky voice as he declares proclamations of love, and the warmth that radiated off his body— so close to mine.
I shook my head profusely, I could tell the tips of my ears had tinted a familiar shade of red.
I had to stop.
What happened to respecting Marie and Erwin's status and lack of label? Hell, I was getting flustered over something he had been doing for Marie. There was something incredibly wrong of me to have thought of it as anything else.
I only dreamt the delusion of his actions to have been meant for me.
It was wishful thinking.
Today's predicament in store was Marie's typical rants about not knowing what to do.
"I cannot choose!" She declared in an exasperated tone, frowning lightly.
"You know you can." I assured, mildly concerned about her inability to choose. I knew she could, she has proven herself to be one of the most decisive people I know over the years.
But then again, that was back when the matter had been a simple 'white or black socks?'.
"I trust your judgment more, M/n." She told me, making me doubt her honesty.
"Really?" I arched a brow, unconvinced.
"Yes! You know them both best, you also know me best. Now, pray tell, who do you think should I choose? It shall not be a matter of who I personally like more, I like both of them— and in time, that can easily sprout love. Tell me in all honesty as you have been with them the longest and during my absence, who is more well-suited for me?"
I shifted in my seat, disbelieving that she would entrust me such a heavy decision.
"It's your life, Marie. You make the decision because you will be the one who has to live with it." I firmly stated.
"And asking for your insight is definitely a decision I shall live a sound mind with."
She was as stubborn as a cow.
"Marie—" I tried again, exasperated.
"Brother, please. Just tell me what you think."
I bit my bottom lip as she gave me those pleading eyes once more.
I didn't know why I could never refuse the people who beg for my help. Perhaps because I hold them in such a high regard, far above my concern for myself? Or was it the gratifying feeling of being needed?
"What is the criteria?" I gave in.
She prompted herself to the edge of her bed in a seated position, now once more filled with a childlike energy she only displayed around me.
She liked portraying herself as a mature independent woman to others— and she is. But she has a rare side to her, a touch of the original Marie I had grown up with. The older sister I have always known.
"Who loves me more, who you think is able to give me a brighter future, and who you think is a better man that will treat me better."
I pursed my lips together, thinking deeply about it.
"That's a difficult question, Marie." I sighed, "They both love you."
"And yet, you've ought to help me!"
I thought about it more seriously. I couldn't say for certain who loved who more. Nile obviously felt deeply for her to have even reconsidered his path in life. . .
Then it occurred to me.
Erwin and Nile had made the agreement to join the Scouts together, as naive friends who has yet to really know themselves years ago. While Nile's objective had changed, I couldn't say the same for Erwin.
Gods, he was going to be a Scout.
My stomach didn't feel well and I could feel yesterday's dinner threatening to climb up my throat as earlier's images flashed into the surface, reminding me of that young woman's grief-stricken face and the only body part that remained of her lover.
How certain could I be to say Erwin would not suffer the same fate?
If Nile had changed his mind for the woman he loved, then would the same thing apply if Erwin was given the very same scenario?
I knew it was selfish. Incredibly so.
Nile loved her very much and I promised I'd help him. And Erwin. . .
God, Erwin wanted to find out more about about this world. This doomed world that could only offer him the cruelty of it.
I knew Scouts would meet their end eventually in the pursuit of knowledge— but I'm not sure I could stomach the idea of losing Erwin in such a way.
And I believe that misfortune would be more irrevocably painful than seeing him with another— at least when being with someone else, he could have a chance to be happy in life. He could go to the capital, live in Mintras, and became a soldier like he always wanted. But instead, his life would end before it could even start.
There were several things I had to consider of course.
Nile has already set his mind onto Marie, he loved her dearly and was firm on his decision to join the Military Police.
In the end, if I could just refer Marie and encourage her to convince Erwin to settle down— it'd be her choice to choose whoever she wanted once it's all fine and dandy.
I was going to wreck my mind into thinking. I was never good at this.
But having both my friends alive encouraged me to go beyond the box.
"Erwin."
She looked up at me with a questioning gaze, brows knitted together in confusion.
"I can't say who loves you more but Erwin can give you a brighter future, it may be bias of me to say this for he's a closer friend of mine— but I believe he can treat you better. He's a gentleman, he treats everyone good. Let alone the woman he loves."
She gazed at me for a second, reading the glint in my eye and perhaps trying to peer into my soul.
But she couldn't do that.
I only knew her best, but it didn't feel like she knew me at all.
"All right," she muttered quietly, pondering my words.
Then she met my eyes once more, holding it in a silent promise:
"I'll see what I can do."