Life of Maverick: In the Land of Giant Man Eaters

-Chapter 44: Along Altered Paths and Voices of Yore-

The Paths, once a massive, serene realm was now in a state of turmoil, thanks in part to the new biomes that erupted from his appearance, the one the people of the island nation called The Slayer, The Giant of Maria, Savior of Shiganshina, so on and so on.

Though the sands of the Paths still covered and flowed throughout the land, it seemed to now be in a constant state of flux. Its monopoly on the realm now contested with the new structures and soils that materialized with every second that passed, like a great game of tug of war.

And all throughout the shifting terrains, was the progenitor of the titans, who trudged along these shifting lands and underneath shifting skies, headed slowly but surely towards the mass of concentrated paths and wills of her people, the Coordinate.

From walking along the stone streets and rotted pier planks of a long silenced fishing town, to traveling through wheat covered fields underneath a beautiful orange colored sky.

From across the shores of an old, battered coastline battleground, to the warped streets of a Victorian city fused with a lush and living forest, filled with fungi of all sizes, and children's playthings that tugged at her inner child.

To scampering through the hollowed walls of an ironclad tomb ship, to dashing through a seemingly humid and hostile jungle, teeming with all manner of diverse and alien fauna that looked as if it could eat her in one bite.

It didn't matter how many places she wandered, nor whatever bizarre sights she witnessed, nor how long this arduous road was, she would reach the Coordinate.

At times however she would take a moment to observe and admire the new sights, only for bizarre visions to surge through her skull, ruining her moments of reprieve.

Taking slow, deep breaths she would shake her head and soldier on, bearing the pains that erupted in her head, and the images that invaded and frightened her mind.

-oOo-

Wandering through a field marred with wooden crosses and old trenches Ymir took a brief rest near a great cross shaped icon. Engraved carvings covered its surface, and piles of old weaponry, shields painted with winged beings, and melted candles surrounded it.

Taking one of the spears she glanced at the wrapping around its shaft, once more written in a language that seemed almost familiar, yet foreign at the same time. Sating her curiosity she attached her pail around her now newly acquired walking stick.

She glanced up to the warped grey sky, gauging how far she had to truly reach the Coordinate. The sight of those never-ending sporadic rays of light told her she had much more to go.

Another round of sudden headaches caused her to go into a fetal position on the ground. Clutching her forehead she shut her eyes and clenched her teeth, letting the pains of her children's enslavement at his hands do their thing.

Even as her eyes shut closed she could still see flashes of his cold and disinterested face.

For he too saw her children as pawns. Simple, barbaric creatures weak enough to manipulate and control, nothing more.

As the pains passed she rose up, took a breath, and set off once more.

Passing through the land of trenches she had come to more familiar scenery, the white sands. Her mind lulled into a rhythmic beat as she trudged along.

Stab, step, stab, step, stab, step.

This long trek would have remained uneventful, but the forces that made their home in the Paths wouldn't deem it so, for soon enough something in the corner of Ymir's dull eye made her stop.