Glass Heart Syndrome

Chapter 38

Eren walked back through the forest, his steps heavy, mind swirling with the final words Elias had spoken. Let whatever's left of your soul die with me.

The memory lingered like a fog he couldn't shake. He told himself that Elias had deserved it, that there was no room for weakness. Yet, as he neared the camp, the edges of his vision felt sharper, darker—tainted.

At the clearing's edge, he paused. The usual campfire was already lit, shadows of rebels gathering around it, laughing and drinking. Their ease gnawed at him, and he found himself unwilling to step back into their light.

Alaric's voice broke through the chatter. "Eren! You're back."

He turned, his face betraying nothing as Alaric approached, a flask in hand and a smile that almost looked genuine.

"Did you find him?" Alaric asked, though his eyes held a faint, unreadable flicker.

Eren nodded. "It's done."

"Good," Alaric replied, but there was an unease to his tone, his smile fading slightly. "Azrael will want to hear from you personally. He's... impatient tonight."

Eren simply nodded and moved past Alaric, the flask's bitter scent lingering in the air as he walked through the firelit camp, ignoring the curious glances that followed him. The night felt charged, like every ember and spark was watching him.

---

Azrael's quarters were quiet, the thick walls blocking out the sounds of the campfire and night creatures. A single candle flickered beside him, casting his face in half-shadows as Eren entered.

Azrael looked up, his expression sharp and measuring. "Did he resist?"

Eren shook his head. "No. He knew it was over."

Azrael's eyes narrowed slightly, a ghost of a smile at the corner of his lips. "How interesting. I imagine he tried to justify himself?"

"He claimed he was trying to protect us," Eren replied, forcing his voice steady. "Said you were... unfit to lead."

Azrael leaned back, fingers tapping lightly against the table. "And did his words sway you, Eren?"

A silent beat passed between them. Eren met Azrael's gaze, his face blank, hiding the turmoil beneath. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Azrael studied him for a long moment, then let out a short laugh. "Loyalty forged in blood. Good. But remember this, Eren: loyalty is a flame, and without fuel, it dies. Feed it, or it will burn out, leaving you in darkness."

The words hung heavy in the room, but Eren kept his face impassive, refusing to betray even the slightest reaction. His silence was answer enough.

---

When Eren returned to his quarters, he found a small, folded note waiting on his cot. The paper was thin, the ink faint but legible in the candlelight.

Meet me by the western ridge. We need to talk.

No name, no signature. But Eren recognized the handwriting. Alaric.

His heart beat a little faster. He knew that if Alaric suspected him, this would be his moment to confront him. And, judging by the message, Alaric had chosen to keep it quiet—a sign that he didn't want to alert Azrael. Not yet, at least.

Eren slipped the note into his pocket and, after a quick scan of the camp, made his way toward the ridge. The moon was a faint sliver above, casting only the faintest glow, shadows dancing in the trees.

Alaric stood alone at the edge, arms crossed, waiting. As Eren approached, Alaric didn't turn to look, only nodded once, his voice low and wary.

"Did you enjoy it?" Alaric asked, eyes fixed on the distant horizon.

Eren's jaw clenched. "What are you getting at?"

Alaric turned, his gaze hard, unyielding. "Elias was no traitor, Eren. You and I both know that. Azrael wanted him dead because he was questioning his tactics. Just like Lyanna did. Just like I have." He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I know you're no stranger to doubt."

Eren's hand hovered near his dagger, the instinct to defend himself fighting against the need for caution. "Azrael gave the order. I followed it."

Alaric scoffed. "Azrael doesn't care about you, Eren. Not any more than he cared for Elias or Lyanna. He only values us as long as we serve his interests. Do you think he won't do the same to you when he's finished?"

Eren's throat tightened. "If you're looking for a confession, you won't get one."

Alaric's gaze softened, something like pity crossing his face. "I don't need a confession. I need you to wake up, Eren. There's more to this fight than Azrael's plans and his thirst for power. We wanted a rebellion, not a massacre."

A long silence stretched between them, the wind rustling in the trees. For the first time, Eren saw a vulnerability in Alaric, an openness he hadn't shown before.

But Eren forced himself to remain impassive. "What would you have me do?"

Alaric took a slow breath. "For now, nothing. But remember this, Eren: when Azrael turns on you—and he will—you'll have to make a choice. And you won't get another chance."

Eren watched as Alaric turned, his silhouette blending into the shadows as he walked back toward the camp. Eren's hand went to his pendant, clutching it tightly. The cold metal pressed against his skin, a familiar weight that brought no comfort, only the reminder of all he'd done to survive.

---

Eren returned to his quarters, his mind churning with Alaric's words. When Azrael turns on you...you won't get another chance.

He couldn't deny it any longer: every task, every sacrifice had chipped away at him, piece by piece. And yet, as he lay on his cot, staring into the darkness, a deep, primal part of him whispered that there was no turning back. Not now, not ever.

For he had stepped too far into the shadows, and the light he had once cherished was nothing more than a distant memory.

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