Vol 1.1: Wax Wings
What is freedom to you?
Is it something you're given or earned?
Is it tangible?
Can you touch it?
Sartre once suggested that "Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you". On the topic of existentialism, the idea that one's freedom is shaped by the response to external circumstances is a moving reflection. Does your freedom derive from the actions of others, or does it spring forth from the crucible of your own choices?
John Stuart Mill once proclaimed, "The worth of a state in the long run is the worth of the individuals composing it." In this light, does the collective yearning for freedom fortify the foundation of a society, or does it rest upon the shoulders of individuals striving for liberation? Can freedom truly exist in isolation, divorced from the social and societal pressures of the outside?
I don't buy into abstract notions. Can you hold freedom in your hand, feel its weight, or is it just a philosophical construct that vanishes when scrutinized? How would you respond to Nietzsche's perspective that "Freedom is the will to be responsible for ourselves"?
Visualize this for me: You're standing there, and I hand you what's supposed to be freedom. Does it have a texture, a tangible quality, or is it as intangible as the air we breathe? I'm not looking for a poetic rendition; I'm asking if freedom is something you can hold onto, or if it slips through your fingers like fine sand.
According to Nietzsche, freedom isn't some abstract notion; it's the will to be responsible for ourselves. Can you buy into that idea, or do you think it's just another philosophical construct that crumbles under scrutiny? Is there weight to Nietzsche's claim, or is it just more words?
I want specifics.
Do you see freedom as a concrete reality, something you can touch, or is it just a mental exercise?
What was I thinking about? My mind was surprisingly restless as I climbed into bed. Why was that? Was it the upcoming second year? Tsukishiro would serve a problem, my peaceful life would hang in the balance. I had to worry about them finding out about Kei, too. Was this anxiety?
This year was eventful, to say the least, and now I just wanted some rest.
Forcing myself to sleep was a common routine, I had been doing this for years now—whether it be in the White Room or in ANHS, where I now resided.
"Haah..."
I took in a deep breath, closing my eyes.
Relax your body, arms, legs, facial muscles. Drop your shoulders and let your hands drop to the side of your body.
Stabilize your breathing
Think of a relaxing scene...
One without...That Man...
One without compasses...
One with ice cream...
One with a peaceful life...
One without Horikita...
𝐀𝐧𝐝...𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩...
Whoosh~
The relentless sun bore down, its rays more intolerant than usual. A refreshing breeze brushed against my skin, a sensation that felt out of place. Was this a prank by Ike and the others? Did they drag me outside to sleep in the park again? Impossible. Carrying my mattress alone would be a herculean task for them, let alone relocating me to a park.
The symphony of rustling leaves, swaying grass, and creaking trees played a pleasant melody. Birds contributed to the natural chorus, with the distinct cooing of a dove echoing through the air.
Hold on...
The rhythmic sounds of nature clashed with my fading confusion. A dove? Sun? Breeze? This couldn't be...
With a sluggish pace, my eyes reluctantly opened, greeted by an unexpected scene. Three pairs of eyes stared down at me, radiating curiosity. Their attire puzzled me—reminiscent of medieval peasants, clad in rough fabrics with thicker blazers draped over.
"Oh! He's waking up!"
A brown-haired kid, around 9 or 10, spoke in...German? High or Low German? Middle German? I can't tell, their accents are strange.
An American bird soundtrack accompanying German dialogue—Am I high? Or is this a simulation of one of Hiyori's books? Or Sotomura's manga? Am I on acid?
"U-Um...sorry for waking you up, mister... I and my friends were just running to the tree, that's all!" uttered the blonde-haired, bowl-cut friend. Is that a boy or a girl?
Two boys exuded European features, while the lone girl possessed a distinctly Japanese appearance. She gazed at me silently with wide eyes.
Was I kidnapped, tossed onto an airplane, and shipped off to Germany? Rumours of sausage-scented citizens and their perpetual anger issues crossed my mind—It was a worse fate than going back to the White Room.
"It's no issue," I casually declared, strolling away. "I was just taking a short nap. I'll be off now."
Clad in my unwrinkled, pristine uniform, devoid of a phone for location checks—would I even be able to check my location outside of ANHS? I faced a strange dilemma. The nearest town seemed like a reasonable information hub, but these kids were potential sources of local gossip.
My peculiar attire would undoubtedly stir chatter. To blend in, I contemplated the uncomfortable notion of finding or stealing attire akin to those worn by the trio. Unpleasant, yet a necessary step to seamlessly blend into this odd setting.
Odd...setting...Walls...
There were towering walls, maybe 45 to 50 meters tall a few hundred meters in front of me. Now if this were some fever dream, I would disregard the strange structures, weird people, landscapes and all but...
This seems too real to be just a dream. Normally I would chalk this up to the sensation of lucid dreaming but upon tapping and lightly pinching myself multiple times to wake up, nothing happened.
Where am I?
"Wait!"
I stopped my descent down the hill, glancing back at the trio. The girl called out to me.
"Hm?"
"What's your name?"
"M-Mikasa, I don't think—"
"Do you mind if I refuse?" I took on the caricature of Horikita when we first met. The blonde cringed, and the brunette looked disappointed.
The girl, now Mikasa, didn't seem deterred, albeit a bit annoyed.
"Well...there isn't anyone else who looks like me and I was just curious."
That wording struck me as odd. Japanese people were a rarity? From what I knew, Asians, let alone the Japanese made up less than 2% of the German population, and are mostly concentrated in the cities. The world is globalized, people should know what an East Asian person looks like, at least if they're from the West.
Are we in some rural community? That would be a possibility if the facts lined up properly, but no.
By what Mikasa just told me, in this...country...Asians, who make up a large portion of the world population, are a rarity...somehow. It didn't make sense to conclude we were in Germany or Europe for that matter.
The means to how I got here are strange enough—finding out where I am, too, is complicating matters. The walls, the strange fauna, the strange clothing. It's like I've gone back in time to the 1700s.
There was a sudden sinking in my heart. What was going on? Nothing was making sense at all.
"I see." I began. "...I'm Ayanokouji Kiyotaka."
Mikasa's eyes widened slightly at my response. "Mikasa Ackerman! My friend's name is—"
Is she using the Western naming convention? Shoot.
"Eran Yeagar," the brown-haired one exclaimed.
"Armin Artlert, Mister!"
Is this some sort of superhero movie or comic?
I nodded my head. "Hm. Then I'll be—"
"Where are you from Ayanokouji?" Eren ran up to me, curious.
Am I being racially profiled?
"Eren!"
"Well, I'm not from here. That's for sure."
Wink wink, nudge nudge.
The boy shot me a strange look, his tone taking a more disdainful one. "You're from the inner walls? Judging by your clothes, it looks like it, they're super high quality."
Inner walls? Are we in a set of walls? And high quality? I'm just wearing my school uniform. What was the economic status of this country? It's well below Western standards if they're calling something like my blazer high quality.
And what's with the contempt? Don't tell me Karl Marx exists here too.
Backtracking—there appeared to be no discernable motorized sounds at all, suggesting that the car was either not invented yet or was so few. I can't fathom a modern society without the sounds of cars at least somewhere in the background. There weren't even sounds of industrial equipment, even in the distance. The atmosphere was clean.
Again, what time period was this? The late 1700s to late 1800s perhaps? No. Before the Second Industrial Revolution. The late 1700s to 1860 then? That's still a large gap of time Perhaps, I'll have to go searching later.
"I guess you could say that."
"Then why'd you come out this far to Shiganshina? Just to nap?"
The blonde one was observing me, almost in an intense manner, while his friend interrogated me. He appeared intelligent, even just from a glance. Judging from his actions previous, could he be another Ichinose character? Possibly.
Also, Shiganshina. The place where we were located was called Shiganshina. I'm assuming he's referring to the massive gate nearby. Shiganshina was inside there and this was the surrounding area, inside the wall.
What was outside the walls then?
Why were there walls in the first place?
Obviously to keep something out. People? No. What was the use of creating 50-meter walls just to keep out people? The Great Wall of China's max height is 14 meters and in India, the walls of Mehrangarh reach as high as 36 meters. Not to mention the latter's walls surround a fort.
In comparison to the walls here, they appear to go on for miles and miles, with little to no foundation visible. Unless they had somehow replicated the Burj Khalifa's foundation system, I doubt the pressure from all that material would be good for the surrounding lands. It would start to sink after a while.
What kind of Bizzaro world am I in?
"I just came here to visit," I patted around my person and pulled out a small notepad I always kept in one of my pockets. "I was finding good places to draw small landscapes. It seemed like I fell asleep in the process."
A collective 'oh' came from the trio. I took this as my chance to leave.
"I'll be going now."
I could sense that they had more questions, but I was far away by the time they could ask any.
How troublesome...
Did I get shorter?
I looked downward as my green pants touched the floor. I had never had this problem before—my ankles sometimes peaked through from time to time, so I'd say I was a bit too tall. I needed to find a mirror or some reflective surface to confirm myself.
What kind of black magic did Horikita perform on me this time?
"Oy kid! You new around here?" A drunken voice called out to me. Short blonde hair, leather jacket, rose emblem, strange contraption strapped to sides with gas canisters and what appears to be swords.
I nodded. "Uh, yeah. This is Shiganshina, right?"
"Yes sir!" His comrades shouted in unison before breaking into song. Something about a plague or something along those lines. I couldn't understand what they were saying, their language was slurred.
Defiantly Germans.
The older blonde chuckled. "Don't mind them. They're just a little bit lousy. Say, what can I do for ya? We don't get many visitors, especially from the inner walls. Oh! I forgot—I'm Hannes, by the way."
"I'm Yamauchi. I was just looking for a map, that's all. No need to—"
That's a horrible fake name!
"Nonsense!" Hannes placed his arm around my shoulders, invading my personal space. He stank of wine, not beer. Are we in Italy? Austria? "You go down the road, yeah, straight from here. On your left there's a big map, got it?"
"Uh...yeah...Thank you."
"No problem! And there's a small motel down the main street! Doesn't get much business, but it's there! Have a good stay!"
The wine doesn't even smell that good to get drunk off of. It smells like British wine. The grapes used don't get enough sunlight because it's raining all the time. Plus, this climate doesn't speak the Mediterranean.
I shed my blazer, as its bright red colour made me stand out in the crowd, and kept it to my side. I had to start making plans to steal some clothes, money and potentially food. That would be easy in all regards. As soon as I get a good look at the map, survival is all but secured.
I passed by a window, and inside was a man, and a woman—husband and wife playing with their infant child. I can't help but envy them a little bit.
!!!
I really did regress in age...How old am I now? 14? 15? Does that mean my strength is back? Again, strange. I kept my memories but regressed to my physical peak. Everything is so illogical, that I might start crying.
The map was an old-looking one, but I could get a rough idea of what this place was.
I walked away after a small glance at the paper, the memory drilling itself deep into my brain.
3 walls, Maria, Rose, Sina.
12 districts on the outskirts of each wall. 4 for each. I'm in Shiganshina now.
The Capital, Mitras, is in the center. Good for communication and presumably the farthest from danger. If all roads lead to the capital, nothing will be unknown for too long.
Why are we in an enclosed circle? Who built this? Who had the time to build all of this? Where did the material come from?
Information gathered from the children, along with what the general population in the Shiganshina district looks like, I can assume that the poorest citizens live on the outskirts of the walls, in Wall Maria. The middle class, if there even is any, lives in Rose, and Sina hosts the rich.
A very rigid social hierarchy. That means I can narrow down the period further. Maybe before or after the French Revolution and the subsequent wars. 1789 to 1815. Or if I were to gamble, I was in the period before the 1848 revolutions. That could explain the small amount of technological advancement, with the strange gas canisters and equipment.
The population density doesn't seem too large, either, but that could just be people living in Shiganshina as a whole are small. I'll have to check out the other districts when I get the time.
If there are no cars, then horses are the next best thing. Stealing a horse should be easy.
I want to test something...
"H-hey! Stop that thief! He just ran off with my bread!!"
Sorry shopkeep, as the saying goes, finders keepers...uh...loser's weepers!
I disappeared into the crowd, holding 2 loaves of bread and a small bag of coins. I was too fast for anyone to keep an eye on at the time—I could hear the sound of a whistle fading into the background as I got further and further away from the market.
Running into an alleyway, I hid myself from the line of sight and killed my presence, rapid footsteps approaching.
"Has anyone seen uh, someone holding a few loaves of bread run through here? His Majesty's Military Police demands an answer!" The person, whom I assumed to be a guard, asked. They couldn't get my physical description in time? If what Mikasa said was true, I should've stood out like a sore thumb. How incompetent are these people?
Also...
We have a king?!
I got a good look at the people chasing after me, they had the same uniforms as the ones at the gates, only this time they had a green unicorn emblem. They carried muskets. Flintlock muskets.
Soon enough they dissolved into the mass of humanity, my presence comparable to the air I breathe.
I was slowly losing the will to live, losing those wannabe policemen was easy. I shouldn't be too worried. I'll bounce from town to town before procuring some documents and live out my peaceful life.
I took a bite into one of the pieces of bread. It looked fresh, and the crust was—stale...dry...cardboard...
"Disgusting..."
Well, my life just sucks!