—-Refracting timidly from
his wispy, calloused fingertips,
his unsteady, languid flesh,
and his quivering, sapphire irises
was a most unobtrusive flare of light;
a light quietly and meticulously veiled,
a light seeking incandescence—
a light he perceived to be a burden.
”Uhh—Trost?” The name was unfamiliar to him. He knew the names of London’s boroughs, both inner and outer, but he had never heard of a district such as Trost.
”Well, uhm, the truth is, I don’t know,” Luke responded dismally. I just sort of woke up here, in one of those nearby buildings. And why is it so empty here? Where is everyone?”
▍ ▎ ▏ { ☼ } ;
—So he d i d n ’ t know (That was a first.).
Armin wanted to think—to b e l i e v e—that wherever this disoriented boy was from was a Titan free location; that its entirety ran amuck with ❝frozen fire❞ and ❝snowfields of sand❞ and the other many, many, m a n y wonders that beckoned to him in the pages of a book.
Unlikely maybe, but surely not impossible.
❝It’s quite the story, actually…or at least more than just an ordinary anecdote—if you want me to fill you in, then I suppose I can do so.❞