Attack on Titan: A Warrior of Devils

A Song for Winter

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"Annie!" Jaime's voice echoed through the dense forest, carrying a mix of concern and curiosity. The rhythmic thuds of punches hitting a nearby tree reverberated in his ears, pulling him deeper into the depths of the woodland. Undeterred by the looming shadows and the rustling leaves, Jaime ventured forth, his steps guided by an ethereal glow of evening sunlight that filtered through the intricate web of branches above. The soft golden rays, like curious fingers, gently caressed his face, casting dancing shadows on the forest floor.

Jaime jumped from the top of a small trunk to the ground as his feet connected with the muddy terrain. The wind caressed his face as he navigated his way through the depths of the forest. Amidst the untamed wilderness, a glimmer caught Jaime's eye, drawing his attention to the trusted companion that hung faithfully by his side. His hand instinctively brushed against the well-worn hostler.

With a deft motion, he unfastened the hostler, revealing the polished wooden handle of his bowie knife. Jaime pulled the knife from its sheath with practiced precision, the metallic blade gleaming in the dappled sunlight. He found himself looking at the reflection that danced upon its mirrored surface, his own visage staring back at him with a mix of determination and curiosity.

Suddenly, the reflection in the knife changed, showing a young Jaime, skinny and weak.

' "A knife is always better at close combat, brat, never forget that," his mentor instructor; the mentor's hand darted towards his trusty knife, drawing it from its sheath with an almost supernatural swiftness. The blade gleamed in the dim sunlight. Jaime's eyes widened in admiration; his gaze fixated upon his mentor's every move. At that moment, the young protege couldn't help but marvel at the sheer skill and grace that emanated from his mentor.

"Why," inquired Jaime with a perplexed expression, his innocent voice tinged with curiosity, "are you pulling it out like that?" His delicate hand, barely reaching the knife's handle, extended towards the gleaming blade. The mentor couldn't help but break into an expansive grin that stretched across his face, a grin that made many uncomfortable. However, to Jaime, this display of mirth was nothing more than an intriguing puzzle to be deciphered, a playful game of intrigue that he was more than willing to partake in. With measured steps, the mentor closed the distance between them, his right hand firmly gripping the knife.

"There are many ways someone can do something, you shouldn't just follow what everyone else is doing, I created my own way of moving a knife which makes it easier for me." His mentor explained, and with a deft hand, his mentor delicately maneuvered the gleaming tip of the knife near Jaime's left eye, its sharpness seeming to dance in the dimly lit street. As the glint caught Jaime's eye, a wave of anticipation washed over him, but to his mentor's delight, he held his ground without a trace of fear, unlike their initial encounter.

"Can you teach me?" Innocently, with a curious gleam in his eyes, young Jaime posed a humble question, his voice filled with genuine eagerness and a thirst for knowledge, as he tilted his head back to meet the gaze of his mentor. His mentor returned the gaze, a genuine spark of pleasure illuminating their countenance. His mentor swiftly and deftly sheathed his knife back into its holster, and just before he began speaking, he cleared his throat in a subtle yet purposeful manner.

"You know you're not the first brat that I taught how to wield a knife," His mentor said with a grunt as he pulled out a second hostler from his bag with a bowie knife.