The next morning brought with it the crisp scent of dew and a light breeze sweeping through the trees outside the Smith household. Elias lay on a thick quilt in the sun-warmed living room, surrounded by wooden toys—stacking blocks, small animals carved from oak, and a wheeled cart he couldn't yet push. But his attention wasn't on any of them.
He was staring at the front door.
Every creak of the hinges, every faint shuffle of boots outside sent a thrill through him. Albert had left with the Survey Corps just before dawn, his face solemn, his embrace for Clara long and wordless. Erwin had not spoken much since. The absence of their father felt heavier than Elias expected. It made the house feel quieter.
Kaela arrived mid-morning with a bundle of clean linens and honeyed apples. "Still no word?" she asked Clara softly.
Clara shook her head but managed a smile. "They'll be fine. He always comes back."
Kaela placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Still… I don't like how frequent these expeditions have become."
From his spot on the floor, Elias studied the exchange. Kaela's concern wasn't just for Albert—it extended to Erwin and Clara too. She had grown close to them in a way that made Elias wonder what had brought her into their lives to begin with. No one ever mentioned her family. She visited often, stayed for meals, and sometimes slept over when Albert was gone. Elias sensed she was searching for something she hadn't quite found yet.
Later that day, Erwin sat by the window, gazing out at the dusty road that led toward the inner districts. His wooden sword rested beside him, untouched. Clara called him for lunch, but he didn't move.
Elias crawled toward his older brother, making soft grunts of effort as he pulled himself across the rug. His tiny hand grasped Erwin's sleeve.
Erwin looked down, surprised.
"You're always watching," he whispered, ruffling Elias's hair. "Even when you're not talking."
Elias blinked slowly, offering no sound. But his grip on Erwin's arm tightened, just a little.
"I want to be strong enough to go out there," Erwin continued, more to himself than to Elias. "To see the truth. Father said there's more beyond the walls. He believed it."
Clara called again, this time more firmly. Erwin finally stood and carried Elias to the table. They ate in a quiet rhythm: Clara feeding Elias spoonfuls of mashed potatoes and soft carrots while Kaela and Erwin shared quiet conversation about old books and titan stories.
"I read about a place called the Dark Vale," Kaela said, eyes bright with imagination. "It's supposed to be a stretch of land past Wall Maria, shrouded in mist. Some say it's where the Titans first appeared."
"That's just a story," Clara murmured.
"But what if it's not?" Kaela asked. "What if there are things out there we can't even imagine?"
Elias perked up, food forgotten. Stories like these stirred something deep in him—not just the curiosity of a toddler, but a hunger carried from a former life. The world wasn't just the walls and rooftops of their district. It was so much more.
That night, Elias couldn't sleep. The moonlight through the window painted silver shapes on the wooden floorboards. He sat upright in his crib, small hands gripping the edge as he looked toward the bookshelf.
The book from before—The Secrets Beyond the Wall—still sat there, half-tucked behind a history volume. He remembered Clara opening it. He remembered the sketches.
If only he could reach it.
A few weak attempts to stand ended in a soft thud and a grunt of frustration. He wasn't strong enough yet. But one day… one day soon.
Morning came again, and with it, a letter delivered by a tired courier in a Survey Corps cloak. Clara took it with trembling hands, her eyes scanning the lines quickly.
"They're safe," she whispered in relief. "Albert's expedition went deeper than planned, but there were no casualties."
Erwin breathed out a long sigh. Kaela smiled. Elias, too young to speak, only clapped his hands and giggled, sensing the joy filling the room.
But behind his laughter lay a sharper awareness. The world was shifting. The door to the outside wasn't just ajar—it was opening wider with every day. And Elias, for all his limitations now, was getting ready to step through.