Storm

Present Days

1829.

Petra became the new owner of the shop her father owned. She ran the business of the Ral family, providing shoes for everyone in town. The merchants were back on the streets, as it became noisy in her surroundings.

The house was reconstructed after her father's death, she decided for it to look different since it reminded her too much of him. And it hurts for her. She also moved the furniture to different places.

Petra had forgotten to go to the fields earlier this morning due to work. But it felt like she had forgotten to do this since forever. It was that important. But she wouldn't want it to interfere with her new work.

Especially now that she's alone, living. And after father's death, she started to stay alert. In secret, she learned to fight. In her time off job, she would enter a secret society. And fight with armed men.

Men twice her size.

Men who had brute strength.

Men who were fast as lightning.

And men who had large stealth and stamina.

She fought all kinds. Now she was strong, and with the help of a friend who's now a town guard, she learned to wield a sword, shoot an arrow accurately and more combat moves as she wished.

She didn't want to die. And she swore to get her revenge.

Petra rearranged her combat boots and wore them on the way out of the shop. She closed the store temporarily, securing it and rode on her horse going to the secret society.

Her horse stopped and stationed itself by the stables. She dismounts and enters the door. She greets her friends with a warm smile. Two of them responded back with a friendly wave.

It appeared to be a boy with teal-eyes, and a girl with a red scarf wrapped around her neck. Petra knew them long enough when she had that first.

She also knew about their story. The two killed three thugs when the girl named Mikasa was abducted. The boy who rescued her, named Eren, gave the scarf as a sign of affection. And from the fact that she felt cold.

Poor girl lost her parents at the age of 9.

The blonde-haired boy beside them is their childhood friend named Armin, a kid who wanted to defend himself but couldn't from his bullies. Eren and Mikasa went out to save him from time to time.

The three came here for the same reason like hers.

+•+

A 29-year old man sharpens his knife, he didn't care if his finger touched the tip of the dagger, he had years of experience, and this was nothing than tossing one.

He sees his own reflection on the knife just after he cleaned it for the nth time in the day and he stared through his dark-blue eyes.

His expression never wore off from his face, he stayed that way ever since. Even after his mother's death and his two best friends' deaths, he was still the same.

A cold-blooded, ruthless killer and thug.

After sharpening his blade, he folded it back and kept it inside his pockets. He rests his arms on the barrel, thinking of what to do next. He got almost everything that he needed to survive on his own, but he knew it wasn't enough.

It was somehow a hot afternoon in Germany. The town had people roaming around the streets, he still wore his dusty footwear. He had his brown vest on top of his white dress shirt, sleeves folded and his long black trousers tucked inside his boots.

It wasn't the only thing he wore since his uncle provided clothes for him, illegally.

Even he himself wasn't notorious for his crimes. He just killed random people for satisfaction, and yet no one seemed to apprehend him for his crimes. That's because he never revealed his identity.

He always wore that cloak.

And his uncle was right, it did help him. A lot. He was glad for that, but now that he left to go to another town, he was stuck here to live by himself. Not like anything he can't do, right?

He slumped his shoulders and got the pouch from his pocket. He decided to satisfy himself with a little money from the town's bank. It was perfectly enough for him to get himself tea, food and other things.

With that, he walked out of the alley, unknown to the people yet still acting normal and cold as ever. He entered a pub and he took a seat by the counter.

The barista looked at him. "What do you want sir?" The man observed some of the bottles displayed on the wooden counter. "Do you have any tea?"

The barista stopped from her work. "Just tea?"

He nodded. "1 pound, 67 cents." He provided the money as said and placed it on the counter. The barista grabbed the money, putting it in her pocket as she began to pour tea on the cup.

He observed the place, still the same from the ones he entered before. Noisy. Boozy people walking to the counter to ask for another round. He was lucky enough to get a seat in front of the counter.

A short while later, the barista gave him the tea he requested and he sipped it gratefully. His eyes glanced downwards to his boots. It was dusty and worn-out from running. He was simply disgusted, and the edges were starting to tear off.

He decided what he needed to do.

+•+

Petra was done with her time off and she took off with her horse. The store was untouched and she had no problems from then on. She replaced her combat boots with neatly-woven sandals.

She then continued with her work, welcoming customers warmly. Time passed until it was night time, Petra closed the shop and went back upstairs to her room.

She looked through the window, seeing the field from the back. The moon was there, making light for her room. She then replaced her clothing and said, "Goodnight mother, father." before falling asleep on her bed.