Attack on Titan: A Blacksmith's Tale

Chapter 1: The Blacksmith of Yarckel

"Hello. My name is Dil—" "No." "Hey, anybody who happens to be reading my—" "That's just stupid." "To whom it may concern, if you are reading this, then..."

Letting out an annoyed sigh, the thirteen-year old placed the pen down. Starting his first journal entry was much harder than he thought. The beginning was the most important part of anything, and already, he was screwing that up. At least the carriage wasn't going over bumps.

"Regretting your decision, kid?" the driver asked as they passed Wall Sina towards Wall Rose.

"No," he answered. "Just trying to figure out how to start this journal."

"With the frustration I'm hearing, sounds more like you're writing an essay."

He simply shrugged. "Well, it's more like an autobiography... just in case something happens."

The carriage driver glanced backwards at him. "How old are you, twelve?"

"Thirteen."

He sighed. "Kids writing memoirs. Definitely a screwed-up world we live in." He paused for a moment as he mulled over the kid's plight. "If you're looking for some advice, I've got some for you."

"...I'm listening," the boy replied after some hesitation.

"Save the introduction for later. Start off with explaining what led you to enlisting."

That sounds logical, he had to admit inwardly. "Thanks, sir."

"Hey, your parents paid me a hefty sum. Least I could do."

"Fair enough." Taking a deep breath, the boy began writing, feeling a little more confident this time.

"It all started in the year 845. It was a day like any other in the Interior. Actually no, it wasn't. It started off with something interesting. I mean, not to say that—."

This is going to take while. The boy thought as he grimly crumpled up the piece of paper and pocketed it.

(845; Yarckel District)

Living in an inner city was considered by many to be a dream come true. In the districts of Wall Maria and Rose, making ends meet was a difficult task, but within Wall Sina's districts, provided taxes didn't eat them alive, the more fortunate dwelled. From the upper class to the obscenely rich, from the hard workers to the spoiled brats, they came in all shapes and sizes. The one thing these people had in common with the rest of their country was that they could enjoy a beautiful day. While the sun beat down upon the city, there was a pleasant wind in the air, balancing things out. So, a stroll throughout the district seemed to be on the minds of Yarckel's residents.

Amidst the busy streets, a boy sat at a vacant table, reading the daily newspaper. His well-groomed, brown hair was one of the giveaways that he was of the upper class. His brown eyes were fixated on the paper, yet his ears were alert for something or someone. Normally, boys his age would either be playing in the streets, working, or sitting around at home like a prissy noble, but he was in the middle of something far more important.