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When Ymir opened her eyes, she knew that she had been here before. The air was cool on her skin and there was a faint humming like some power was running through it. She was on her knees still, just like she was in her final moments. The pain from the shackles was gone and she remained in the same clothes. There was comfort in being here again. She had a better understanding of this place after speaking to the warriors and Eren. It was called Paths. Years ago, she was here being sculpted into another life by the goddess she had emulated, Ymir Fritz.
With her death, there was an unnatural sense of peace and serenity. In her mind she knew that she’d go back, that this wasn’t the end. It’d only be a matter of time before she found her way back and more importantly, found her way back to Historia. Things were lonely without her or without anyone to talk to really. Wonder consumed her as she sat in the cool sands. Wondering if Reiner had delivered the letter; wondering if Historia kept her promise. She let out a sigh, she’d give anything to see her girl on the throne. All dressed up in the royal clothes and robes, casting the Scouts’ uniform to the side for the rest of her days. She said the title out loud, “Queen Historia Reiss, rightful ruler of the walls.” A smile formed, it felt so good to form those words. She pulled her legs from under herself and extended them onto the sand. They molded to her figure and moved with her as she laid down. The words were sweet on her lips as she said them once again as she closed her eyes. It was only a matter of time until she would be back.
Historia had almost mastered her facade. The Scouts had visited her and she struggled the whole time to keep on some kind of happy mask. They were all in a conference room with tall bright windows and a wooden table in the center of the room. Her friends laughed and drank with her and told her stories of their new training. They were all the same, Connie and Sasha had that same light and hopeful look on their faces as they joked with the others about small mistakes during training. Eren was slipping away, it wasn’t unusual or alarming to her. It seemed like the mission of taking back Shiganshina hit him the hardest. Mikasa had a renewed vigor and a newfound spring in her step. As usual, the red scarf was wrapped around her neck and she absentmindedly held onto it as she spoke.
Jean was the only one of her friends that seemed truly different. He had started growing out his hair and a scruffy line of facial hair was growing on his face. The look suited him, he had become a more assertive and strong person and his looks reflected it. His brown eyes were fixated on her. Historia would flit her gaze around the Scouts, laughing when it seemed appropriate, but always she felt Jean’s gaze burning into her.
The group was laughing at Connie’s attempt at using anti-personal gear when the Captain popped his head into the door. Sasha was telling the story, “We were at this little makeshift range, right. He had his gun pointed at the target and when he,” she interrupted herself with laughter, “Sorry sorry! He shot it and I swear I saw his soul leave his body.” The group was laughing at the memory, hearty and full. She continued, “You should have seen his face! It was like this!” Her eyes widened and her hands were in front of her, looking as if she had just seen a ghost. The impersonation left the group in shambles, laughing harder than they have the whole time. A small smile creeped onto Historia’s lips. It was as close to genuine she had gotten since, since Ymir. The thought of her slowly consumed her, It felt as if she had left the room. She was there with them, but mentally she was still in the quiet moment of Ymir leaving her. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud, stern voice, “Hey! You all don’t have the day off. Commander Hange is summoning all veterans for a brief.” Slowly, the Scouts obliged. They stood and pushed their chairs under the table and gave her a quick wave goodbye. Jean was the last to leave. It was intentional, as he was seated closest to the door.
He was in the dress uniform, the same as he looked the day of the ceremony. At his full height, he towered over her. Historia looked up at him as he placed a hand on the back of her chair. The voice that filled the air was of a tone that she’s never heard from him, “You know, you don’t have to be strong all the time.” Silently she cursed herself, the act wasn’t good enough. “I know that kind of hollowness and that kind of loss. You’ve been through a lot Historia, you don’t have to be strong all the time.” HIs voice lowered in volume and threatened to break as he continued, “I know I wasn’t after Marco passed.” Their eyes met and the hurt was visible. He mustered a sad, weighted smile and gently squeezed her shoulder as he left, “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to reach out.”
Fear is one of the simplest human emotions and the one that Ymir was most familiar with. She was completely alone. There was no way to tell how long that she had been here for or when her wish to go back would be fulfilled. Alone again, just like she was as a child. Just like she was in Marley. The fear consumed her and created a welt in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes, hot and burning as the word repeated in her mind. Alone, alone, alone… The tears spilled and the emotion felt like a hot iron rod being driven into her chest.
She stood and the sand seemed to pull her back down, begging her to wallow and stay in the same position as before. To lay down and let happy hopeful thoughts consume and cloud her mind. But, she stood. Halfway upright she paused with her hands resting on her knees. Fat tears felt like fire dripping down her cheeks. Her vision was cloudy and murky from the tears, but she saw the tears drop onto the sand sinking it and staining it dark brown and weighing it down.
With teeth clenched she stood to her full height and looked to the sky. She took in a shaky breath as she watched the colors swirl in the sky. Purples, teals, and blues danced among the stars. This was the freedom she thought that she had discovered all those years ago. This time it felt like her own personal hell.
A small piece of hope ignited in her stomach. This fabled Ymir Fritz had to be here somewhere. They’ve met before and it was possible that the deity remembered her. There was a chance at her going back. A chance to meet Historia again. It was far fetched, but hope was hope. She took another bigger, deeper breath and closed her eyes. Her memory took her back to that day, her final goodbye. When she opened her eyes again she was filled with a determination to move, to find this so-called god and get her life back. Her eyes were drying and she made no effort to wipe her tears as she walked. In her mind there were two things, moving forward and, as always, Historia.
It was night now and Jean’s words were still fresh in his head. It was selfish to think this way, but she couldn’t imagine that he knew what she was feeling. The bedroom was deep in the belly of the castle, illuminated by a few candles and the light danced on the walls. She sat on her bed in a white nightgown and tried to fixate on the sympathy in Jean’s words. The two boys had been close ever since they met in bootcamp. Marco was a kind soul that just wanted to help everyone there progress and work together and at the time Jean couldn’t be described as anything other than selfish. There were a few times where she noticed the two’s small touches. Simple touches like Jean’s fingers lingering on Marco’s hips as he helped the boy tighten the straps of his ODM gear. It was possible that he did know and that he did understand.But, the two didn’t have the same bond as she had with Ymir. It was selfish to think, but it was true.
She turned and swung her legs off the edge of the bed. She sat for a moment and looked to her desk. She knew that what she wanted to do was a bad habit that she needed to break, but the temptation to do it was too strong for her to resist. The floor was cold on her feet as she walked. The desk was a quality wooden one with drawers built into it. One of them contained a metal tin. Her hand instantly moved to the second drawer on the right out of instinct and almost muscle memory at this point.
The tin was cool in her hands and she took a moment to leach the cold from it. As the tin warmed she pried it open, revealing the piece of paper inside. It was crumpled and yellowed as if it had spent countless days and nights crumpled in someone’s pocket. Knowing Ymir, that’s probably where the letter spent most of its time before it was passed to Reiner for delivery. The thought and memory of her lover brought a smile to Historia’s face. But it was short lived as the all too familiar first line entered her mind.
The sands seemed to suck her feet deeper in with each step forward she took. She looked back expecting to see her tracks behind her, but the sands remained clean and unbothered by her movements. At this point there was no telling how far she’s walked. The hope to find this Ymir Fritz was the only thing keeping her going. Hope was starting to run low, the apparent flame getting her to journey out for the deity slowly died with every step she took.
Breathes were ragged and slow as they came from her lips. There was something about the sand that she couldn’t place. Some property of it made it feel as if it was slowly leeching about her drive and very soul, beckoning her into them. It would be so much easier to just sit down, maybe lay in them and let them mold to her body to provide some kind of comfort. Ymir stopped for a moment and gritted her teeth. It seemed like a mental game now. A matter of how bad she wants it. The blonde’s face came into her imagination and the name was pressed against her lips begging for her to say it. There was going to be a way back. Some kind of way back to Historia. This was her time to be completely selfish, to live with that first wish she made. She needed to go back to Historia. She needed another chance, she didn’t care about if someone else needed it more than she did. Once she found this deity wandering Paths, she’d do whatever it takes to get another shot.
Tears were flowing hot on Historia’s face. She sat on her bed holding the letter in shaking hands. No matter how many times she read over it the letter, it always hit her in the same way. A wish for another chance consumed her every time that she read the words Ymir wrote. The letters stood tall and proud as the girl once had been. There were no apologies in her words, leaving Historia with some kind of comfort in knowing that the girl lived true to herself until the very end.
Her lips quivered as the words clouded her mind. “My only regret is not being able to marry you.” Tears fell as she thought of her final moments with the girl she loved. The day out in the plains as she truly found herself in the moments of destruction unfolding all around her. Around them soldiers were crying out in victory or in pain as the two of them selfishly took the time to speak true to themselves. It was funny, almost, to find such beauty in a place filled with only pain and suffering as their friends put their lives on the line.
A tear fell on the paper of the letter, snapping Historia out of her apparent haze. The quiet of her room was broken by a gasp as she watched the wet of the tear lifting the ink on the letter. Ymir’s name was nothing but a smudge of jet black ink now. The intricate thought and love poured into the letter, into her farewell, ruined by a fickle and selfish tear. The pain of it choked her up and her shaking hands struggled to desperately blot away the tear before it spread to the other words.
It was a desperate hope, pressing her white nightgown into the paper. Blotting it out was hopeless, but maybe just maybe there would be something close to Ymir’s name remaining. She stayed for a moment, pressing the white cloth into the yellowing paper Ymir had written on. When she mustered the heart to move it, all that was left was a garbled mess of ink faintly in the shape of her love’s name.
On the horizon there was a figure. A small one, moving steadily through the sand. Ymir walked towards it, trying to decipher who it was or if it was just an apparition created by a hopeless mind. The hum in the air grew stronger the closer she got. She continued forward and cupped her hands around her mouth hoping to make yells louder, “Hey! Stop, please!” They continued forward and Ymir broke into a run. The sand around her was sent flying with every step she took. She pressed on, but it seemed like no matter how hard she tried she wasn’t getting closer. Realizing that the effort was completely futile, she stopped in her tracks. The hum in the air was almost deafening now. In the distance, she made out what seemed to be a little girl moving through the sands. Heavy chains and shackles on her feet trailed behind her, infinitely moving forward, but never seeming to make any progress.
Hope was replaced by rage as she realized that no matter how hard she tried to approach the figure she’d never make any progress. “You’re her aren’t you,” her voice sounded more defeated than she wanted to come off as, “You’re that Ymir Frtiz?” There was no response, not a shock to her in the slightest. “I need to speak with you, please! You must remember me, right? I know what you’re capable of and I need you to do it again! I did it! I did it this time, I lived with your wish and I did my best, but I need to go back! Please, I just need to go back!”
No response, only the sound of shackles in the sand and the growing buzz in the air. She sunk to her knees begging, “Please, just listen to me! I need to go back! I found someone and,” her voice broke as tears began to form in her eyes, “please she needs me.” The sounds spilling from her lips were heavy with pure desperation. Gasping sobs came from her, impossibly hollow and hopeless. Completely defeated. There was no chance. If she was destined for rebirth, the girl would have turned to her. Her actions were reckless and erratic. Hands were balled into tight fists, making her fingers appear white as she pounded them against the sand. The impacts seemed louder as they were coupled with her screams, “You really are a devil aren’t you! You’re nothing, but some dirty good for nothing devil! I was so stupid trusting you! So stupid to let you bring me back! I did your bidding and now you won’t even look at me!”
Ymir’s vision blacked out as she finished. The speed at which her memories were running through her mind almost made her physically sick. Her childhood as a goddess. The memories of her in her titan, damned to wander the world. Her awakening in this godforsaken place. A new life in the corps. Connie, Jean, Sasha, Historia, all smiling all the way she remembered. Running after Reiner and Bertolt, desperate to save them for Historia’s sake. A bearded man, far older than her, leading her to a ship. Another named Porco, who greeted her with a punch to the face and a kick to the ribs. The copper taste of her own blood in her mouth. Pieck, a woman with a sleepy immense intelligence, the only soul in Marley who showed her any hint of kindness. Getting her wounds tended to and her chest bandages by that woman and her cold fingertips on her skin. Being guided into a room of crystal and shackled with her arms extended. Then there was that man again, Porco, he lifted her face up to his and spit at her feet, “Nothing but scum. A sorry excuse for a woman.” He laughed at her, “Ymir, right? Such a grand name for nothing more than a useless stain on the Earth.”
Her vision came back to her and in front of her stood the girl. Ymir was on her knees, sobbing and pleading. “Please… please I just need to see her again. I just need to see Historia again.” She looked up and saw the deity standing before her. The humming in the air was all that she could hear now. She was aware of the fact that she was speaking, but she couldn’t hear herself over it. With the last energy she had and the last bits of hope in her soul she screamed, “I need to tell her I love her! Please, just that! I don’t need another chance, another life, I just need to tell her! Please!”
The deity stared at her, watching the tears stream down her face. Saw the pure desperation and pain in her expression. Her lips didn’t move, but a voice filled Ymir’s mind. It was grand, loud, and stoic. One word sounded, “Rest.”
The sands pulled her down, completely consuming her. Her screams and pleas for mercy all consumed by it. With her sinking down, serenity and complete quiet in the place was restored. The humming in the air returned to being barely audible. Ymir Fritz continued moving forward, stepping right over where the girl once was.