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Trost District — Petra Ral's Residence…
Ral's family home was modest but well-kept; a two-story townhouse tucked into a narrow side street off the main road, accompanied with a small garden, carefully tended and lined the front walk.
At Midday, a carriage had arrived at their home. Revealing to be MPs, two of them. One was a potbellied officer with 20 years of experience; going by the name of Corporal Vester. The other much greener one in the ranks of a Private.
Sitting in the living room Petra's parents; and judging by their expression they did not look pleased at the visitors one bit.
"Mr. Ral. Mrs. Ral. We're here on behalf of the Military Police to discuss the rather unfortunate incident at the 103rd Cadet Corps. May we sit?"
"If you did like to stand that is." Mr Ral flatly said. "Then you may."
After taking their seat opposite the two, Vester produced a leather-bound folder from his satchel and set it on the table. He opened it, revealing a stack of official documents with the government seal stamped to it.
"First, allow me to express my deepest sympathies for what your daughter has endured," Vester began. "Miss Petra is a remarkable young woman. The survival of so many cadets is due in no small part to her leadership during the crisis."
"Crisis." Mr Ral repeated the word as if it tasted foul. "That's what they're calling it now? A crisis?"
"I assure you, the government is taking this matter with the utmost seriousness. That is why we are here. To ensure that your family receives the compensation and support you are entitled to."
His private slid a small thick sack across the table. It was heavy with coin; audibly clinking against the wood.
"The government has authorized a payment of five thousand crowns to each family of a surviving cadet." Vester continued. "Additionally, there are provisions for ongoing medical care, counseling, and educational support for any who wish to continue their service. Petra's future in the military is secure, should she choose to pursue it."
Mrs Ral's voice was a whisper. "Five thousand crowns."
It was more money than they had ever seen. More than the house was worth. It was the kind of sum that could change lives; pay off debts, buy a better home and secure a future.
…It was also…the kind of sum that was meant to buy silence.
"She watched her friends die," Mrs Ral said, her voice rising. "She watched them be torn apart. She came home covered in blood that wasn't hers. She hasn't slept more than two hours a night since the past 3 days. And you want to give us money?"
"Mrs. Ral, I understand your—"
"No, you don't. You don't understand anything! My daughter is broken! She flinches at loud noises. She stares at nothing for hours. She won't eat unless I sit with her. And you think five thousand crowns will fix that?!"
Vester's expression did not change. "The payment is not intended to 'fix' anything, Mrs. Ral. It is compensation for the trauma your family has endured. The royal government recognizes that the incident has caused significant distress, and this is one way of acknowledging that. We are currently going to thorough investigation to find the culprits behind this disastrous incident."
"You talk an awful lot of grammars." Mr Ral muttered dangerously. "Get straight to the damn point."
"The official report as of current describes the incident as a coordinated bandit attack." Vester explained formerly. "The perpetrators were armed individuals, likely ex-military, who used advanced tactics and equipment to infiltrate the training grounds. So far the entire military police squadrons are enlisted to pursuing all available leads."
"Regardless of if these bandits were trained or not, you can't be telling me bandits killed nearly two hundred cadets? Bandits attacked a military training ground, fought off the Survey Corps, and then vanished into the night? Where were the guards?! Why didn't they evacuate cadets before it reached that point huh?!"
"Mr Ral—"
"My daughter saw knights!" Mr Ral shouted "She saw men in armor. She saw faces of her instructors that weren't their own. She saw things that don't make sense unless you're trying to tell me that something else happened out there you are deliberately not telling us!"
Vester's jaw tightened. This was the part he had been dreading. Not like he himself actually know what had happened at the 103rd. He had heard the rumors; but he was a soldier, and soldiers followed orders. His orders were to deliver the compensation, offer the government's condolences, and ensure that the families understood that the matter was being handled.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
And this bastard was making his job harder.
"Mr. Ral," The officer firmly assured. "I understand that what your daughter witnessed was traumatic. The mind is a fragile thing, and in moments of extreme stress, it can play tricks. What Petra believes she saw may not be an accurate reflection of what actually occurred."
"…Are you calling my daughter a liar?" For the first time, Mrs Ral's voice was ice.
"I am suggesting that the trauma of the event may have distorted her memory. It is a well-documented phenomenon. In the chaos of the attack, with the fire and the screams and the... likely creature, it is entirely possible that she saw things that were not there. That she interpreted the bandits' armor as something more... exotic."
"Exotic." Mr Ral's hands were shaking. "You're standing in my home, calling my daughter crazy."
"I am saying no such thing dear sir. I am simply explaining that the official investigation has not found evidence to support the more fantastical claims that have been circulating. The knights your daughter described, the faces she claims were not their own; these are not consistent with the physical evidence. There were no suits of armor found at the scene. No strange devices. Only bodies, and fire, and the remains of the bandits the Scouts and Obsidian eliminated."
Obsidian. The crystal titan.
"The crystal creature, so it is real then. Then why the dismissal of my daughter's claims?" Mr Ral asked slowly.
"The government's position on Obsidian is still being determined, this is a strange titan that has reappeared out of the blue after Wall Maria's fall." Vester said. "However, I would caution against placing too much faith in the accounts of survivors. The creature's motives remain unknown. It may have fought the bandits for reasons of its own."
"And the flying creature?" Lena demanded. "The one that chased the Demon Dog through Trost?"
"There have been conflicting reports about a winged entity," Vester admitted. "But again, the evidence is inconclusive. The creature has not been seen since the incident, and its origins and intentions remain unknown. Just like Obsidian's."
"Convenient."Mr Ral snarled. "Every time there's something you can't explain, it's 'inconclusive' or 'unverified' or 'a trick of the light.' But the dead children? Those are very conclusive. Those are very verified. Those are very real."
"The deaths are a tragedy," Vester genuinely stated. "No one is denying that. But the government's response must be based on evidence, not speculation. The investigation is ongoing, and I assure you, every resource is being dedicated to finding the truth."
"Then why are you here?" Mrs Ral demanded. "Why are you in our home, giving us money, if the investigation is still ongoing? Why are you trying to convince us that our daughter is wrong?"
"Because there are certain elements within the government who believe that speculation and rumor are more dangerous than the truth," he said carefully. "The people of Wall Rose are already frightened. We are managing spread of high chances of misinformation."
Mr and Mrs Ral quietly looked at each other with that explanation.
"Be rest assured. The government is not lying; the compensation is real." Vester tapped the coin bag for indication. "The medical care is real. The support for Petra's future is real. Whatever you may think of the government's methods, our commitment to the well-being of our citizens is not in question."
Afterwhich the MP rose with his private.
"We will leave the paperwork with you. There is no rush to sign. Take your time. Discuss it with your daughter. When you are ready, you can return the signed forms to the nearest MP outpost." He paused at the door, glancing back at them. "I would, however, advise you to be careful about what you say to others. The rumors that have been circulating... they are not helpful. They only cause unnecessary fear. And fear, as I'm sure you know, can be a dangerous thing to the informed and the informant."
That almost sounded like a threat, but Mr Ral said nothing. He simply escorted the two officers out his house. Watching till the carriage pulled away from their small street.
Mrs Ral watched as her husband entered back into the house, staring at the documents and the coin sac on the table with an unreadable expression.
"Dear-"
CRASH!
In barely registered time, the table was on its side. The coin bag had tossed over, scattering gold coins across the floor. Mr Ral stood over the wreckage while heaving his chest, his hands clenched into fists.
Mrs Ral stared at her husband's still trembling hands with wide eyes. He wasn't a violent man. He had never been a violent man. But something had broken inside him ever since the unexpected return their daughter home looking haunted. The Officer's claims didn't help soften his anger.
"Bandits." Mr Ral spat venomously. "Bandits my ass."
Those imbeciles!
They dare?! They dare sit in his damn hard sweat home, and tell him that his daughter; HIS PETRA; was wrong about what she had seen.
He hadn't realize that his wife was already beside him, gently touching his arm. "Peter. Peter, please. Calm down."
"Calm down? CALM DOWN?!" He yanked his arm from her grasp before turning to face his wife in fury. "They sat in our home. They threatened us. They called our daughter a liar, and you want me to calm down?"
"They didn't say that," Lena whispered. "They said—"
"They said her memories were distorted. They said what she saw wasn't real. They said she was confused and frightened and wrong." He spat the word. "She isn't wrong. She knows what she saw. She knows what happened out there, and we both know that this... this bullshit is exactly what it is. My daughter will never lie about something like that."
He gestured at the fallen coins. "Bandits. They expect us to believe that bandits killed nearly two hundred cadets? That bandits fought off the Survey Corps? That bandits made my daughter watch her friends die and then just... vanished?"
He looked back at the coins with a mixture of disgust and despair.
"They're trying to buy our silence," he said quietly. "Would that fix the trauma my daughter has faced?!"
"I know. But dear shouting isn't going to help our daughter right now-"
"THEN WHAT WILL?!"
"I DON'T KNOW! IT'S NOT LIKE MY FAULT YOU ALLOWED HER TO GO TO MILITARY TRAINING!!"
"YOU DARE-?!"
Petra's room…
Petra flinched at the argument of her parents getting louder.
She had been lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her injured hand still wrapped in bandages; but the numb pain was a constant, throbbing reminder of what had happened. She had been trying not to think. Trying not to remember.
Unfortunately for her, the walls were thin. And she had heard everything.
She heard the MPs describe her as traumatized. Had heard them suggest that her memories were distorted. Had heard them call her claims fantastical and inconsistent.
That officer had dismissed her entirely. Dismiss what she had seen, dismiss what she had lived.
After the carriage left, She heard her father's footsteps retreating back into the house.
Then a crash.
She flinched.
And now her parents were arguing. Again.
"Please stop." Petra whispered to nobody in particular.
She had been home for two days, removing the brave face she had put on that day. Two days of hearing her parents' constant agitation of her well-being; now treated like she was made of glass, like she might shatter if anyone spoke too loudly. And unable to close her eyes without seeing her dead comrades.
She was tired. So tired.
She needed air.
Maybe she should check up on Tina. See how her friend is holding up.
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