I nod.
She studies it for a moment longer and then hands it back over. “If you sense something coming, you’ll tell me, right?”
“Of course.”
I follow her out the building knowing that my statement is only partially true. Mixed up in my visions is a complication. I’m not just having premonitions. I’m having fantasies. Both involving Hildi. They’re both so strong, so convincing. I’m not exactly sure which one is real, and which one is my mind and body wanting to will it into existence.
35
Hildi
The following days settle into something of a pattern. Meals, classes, training, and searching for the stone. I try to adjust to the fact this is my life for now; I’m a student on a mission. One that’s determined to test my patience.
Two things do come to mind after talking to the professor. I need to get to know the Immortals better. I’m not convinced on his retribution to save the world concept, mostly because these men…they’re too damaged to really change. It’s one thing if they’re focused on a goal—a war—but something else when it’s about changing who they are. Can they forgive themselves? Can they care about someone else?
I’m not sure, but there’s too much at risk to ignore his theory.
I do know someone I can ask, and I broach it one night during our patrol. We’re outside and the night is clear, a crescent moon hanging overhead. Lights from the Academy brighten the area enough that I don’t need an extra light. Armin still manages to camouflage his massive frame in the shadows near the locked iron gate. I meet him there and we quietly begin to walk the perimeter, looking for any clue or hint to the stone.
“We’ve thoroughly searched the instructors' dormitory,” he says. “Even going into locked rooms. There’s nothing out of place.”
“Maybe it won’t be out of place. Maybe it will be perfectly in-place.”
He gives me a look and scans the high, stone wall. “A needle in a haystack.”
“So, my new roommate, Elizabeth…” I start, trying to shift the conversation.
Armin’s eyebrows raise in question. “Elizabeth?”
“Yes, your fangirl.”
“What’s a fangirl?” He runs his large hands over the stone walls. Armin is the kind of guy that represents the term "no stone unturned."
“She thinks you’re great. All of you, actually, and she’s prepared to follow you into the apocalypse no matter what side you end up on.”
He straightens and his long hair falls over his shoulder. “This girl is small, right? Short? Pink hair?”
“Yes.”
“She told me the same thing,” he admits.
“Do you believe her?”
He goes back to his searching, pausing at a fountain. A screaming demon is affixed to the wall, water flowing from its mouth. Armin touches the creature’s eyes and shoves his hand between its teeth. After searching around, he removes his hand and shakes off the water.
“I think it’s likely there are people here that are unaligned. It’s smart.”
“You think so? Not having a focused mission?”
“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Valkyrie, but these people aren’t warriors. They’re royals. It’s all about stealing land and conquering. They want to be on top, regardless of who is on the bottom.”
“I’d noticed,” I say, trying not to sound petulant. Armin has a way of being bossy and superior. Even worse than Rupert. “I just wanted your opinion.”
“My opinion is that nothing here is as it seems. It’s too—”
“Normal?”
“Maybe. The Crusades are cutthroat. The end of the world is on the line. The stakes are high but the fight…it feels off.”