Chapter 7: Of Sand and Destiny
In the endless realm of the Paths, time twisted and stretched in ways unfathomable. Today, however, it felt particularly surreal.
Ymir Fritz, the once-enslaved girl turned Titan progenitor, toiled in silence. She crafted figures of sand with careful precision—towering Titan Shifters for Eldia's nobility, monstrous Pure Titans destined for war. Each grain of sand held the weight of history, molded by hands that had long since forgotten their own freedom.
Nearby, Ember hovered, his luminous form flickering restlessly. Watching her stumble, his usual sharp wit stirred. Is she right in the head, or is this just another one of her brilliant coping mechanisms?
A knowing voice drifted in like a breeze. "You're thinking something rude again, aren't you?"
Ember started, his glow dimming in surprise. "Wait—how did you—?"
Oris chuckled, the sound light yet ancient. "Oh, Ember. I know you too well."
He folded his arms, feigning indifference. "Tch. Maybe I'm just predictable."
Silence lingered between them, broken only by the quiet shifting of sand beneath Ymir's hands. Ember finally exhaled—if beings like him could exhale—and turned to Oris.
"Tell me," he said, voice quieter now, "why didn't you intervene when she was being used? When that wretched king forced her to submit?"
Oris's glow softened. "Her life is hers to live, Ember. Just as yours is. We watch, we guide—but we do not rewrite fate."
Ember clicked his tongue. "That's a convenient excuse."
Another pause. Then, an idea sparked in his mind. His glow brightened with excitement. "I've got it!"
Oris hummed in amusement. "Oh? Should I be concerned?"
Ember ignored her teasing. "You should take over her job."
Oris blinked. "Come again?"
"You know, the sand figures. You can make them for her while I take her out of the Paths—let her breathe, see something other than this dreary wasteland."
Oris raised an ethereal eyebrow. "And why, pray tell, do I do all the work while you go off sightseeing with her?"
Ember grinned. "Because it's your punishment."
"Punishment?"
"Yep!" He nodded enthusiastically. "If you hadn't given Ymir the Titan power in the first place, she wouldn't be stuck here endlessly obeying that tyrant. And if you had intervened, maybe she wouldn't be so… miserable."
Oris tilted her head, thoughtful. Ember, seeing her hesitation, decided to push his advantage.
"Come on, just look at her!"
They both turned to Ymir. She had climbed onto a half-finished 25-meter Titan figure, her small, barefoot form mirroring the frail slave girl she once was. Tattered clothes, sunken eyes—she was reliving her past.
Ember gestured at her dramatically. "She's a kid again when she's supposed to be a grown woman! That's how bad her psyche is!"
Oris sighed. "You have a way with words, Ember."
"So…?"
A beat of silence. Then, Oris relented. "Alright. You have my permission to take her out. Help her."
"YES!" Ember threw his arms in the air triumphantly—
—only for a loud thud to interrupt him.
They turned in time to see Ymir lose her balance and tumble from the sand Titan, landing with a muted whump in the sand below.
"Oof." Ember cringed. "That looked like it hurt." He called out, "Sorry, Ymir!" Then, with renewed excitement, he turned back to Oris. "You won't regret this! I'll take good care of her, promise!"
"Hmm." Oris's tone was unreadable.
Ember wasted no time, zipping over to Ymir, who was already standing and dragging a wooden bucket of sand back toward the unfinished Titan.
"Hey, guess what?" Ember said, practically vibrating with excitement.
Ymir ignored him.
"Ymir?" He floated in front of her, waving a translucent hand. "Helloooo?"
She stepped around him, continuing her climb.
Ember's glow flickered in disbelief. "Hey! I worked hard to convince Oris for this, and you're just ignoring me?!"
No response.
"Oh, come on—I know you have a bad case of the trauma, but this is your fault!"
With an exaggerated huff, he flew up after her. "Alright, you asked for it!"
Without thinking, he charged at her—intending to phase right through her in a harmless, attention-grabbing stunt.
What he didn't expect was to be sucked into her body.
"Wait, wha—?!"
And just like that, he vanished.
---
[EMBER'S POV]
"Whaahhh!!!"
I fell.
For how long? Who knows.
But when I finally landed—if you could call it that—I hit a surface that dispersed me.
"Ugh…"
I pulled myself back together, muttering about how unfair existence was.
Then, I took a good look around.
Pitch black.
Great. Just great.
"Okay, no need to panic." I chuckled nervously. "Maybe this is just one of those human dreams. Yeah! A dream! Totally normal."
My chuckle died in my throat.
"...I don't even sleep."
A distant sound cut through the void.
A baby crying.
I tensed. "Who's there?!"
No answer.
Then—a glow in the distance.
"A crying light?" I scoffed. "Absurd. No light shall cry in my presence!"
I flew toward it because of course I did. I was too curious for my own good.
When I got close, I stopped.
It wasn't just a light.
It was… memories.
Ymir's.
"Ohhh." I grinned. "This is interesting."
With zero regard for privacy, I dove right in.
"Ooh, baby Ymir! She was so tiny!"
"Oh-ho! Eight-year-old Ymir! Feeding horses—wait, she slipped! Aaaand face-first into horse poop! Hah!"
I was having too much fun until I noticed something.
At the very center of it all was a silhouette.
Curious, I approached.
The closer I got, the quieter the voices of her memories became.
Then, I saw her.
Ymir.
She sat there, chained, motionless.
I hesitated, then cautiously called out, "Ymir?"
No response.
I groaned. "Not this again."
Still, I pressed on. "Hey. What are you doing here?"
Silence.
I exhaled loudly. "Okay, fine. Be that way. But guess what?"
She barely blinked.
I gritted my teeth. "Ugh, fine, I'll just tell you—I got permission to take you out of the Paths!"
Nothing.
She just stared.
I twitched. "Hello?! This is supposed to be good news! Say something!"
Then, in a whisper so quiet I almost missed it, she murmured,
"...What's the point?"
I reeled back. "What—?! What do you mean, 'what's the point'?! You get to leave! Breathe fresh air! Feel the wind, the dirt—"
"And then what?" She cut me off, voice hollow. "What changes?"
I stared at her, my excitement draining.
"...Ymir."
She lowered her head. "No matter where I go, there will always be suffering. Always something waiting to take everything away. Freedom… happiness… they're just illusions. So tell me, Ember… what's the point?"
For once, I had no witty comeback.
I clenched my fists.
"The world is still the same," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean you have to stay trapped in it."
She stays silent.
"donyou want to see the sun rising rising again?, feel the rain on your skin, hear the laughter of people who aren't shackled by fate. You think suffering is all there is? Maybe. But joy exists too. And you'll never find it if you keep hiding in here, buried under chains you put on yourself!"
Ymir remained silent, her eyes shadowed. Ember's glowing form flickered with frustration, but beneath it all, he felt something else—something deeper. He had seen her memories, glimpsed the child who once ran free before she was hunted, enslaved, and used. He had seen the girl who had clung desperately to the love of a man who saw her as nothing but a tool. And now, she was here, not because she had to be, but because she chose to be.
That realization made Ember's flames dim.
"You want to stay here, don't you?" he asked, quieter this time.
Ymir exhaled, her bound hands tightening. "...I don't know."
Ember hovered closer, watching her carefully. "Then why not try leaving? Just once. Just to see."
Her eyes lifted to his. "And if I go with you… what then? What happens to me?"
Ember huffed, crossing his arms. "Simple. You get to be Ymir, not just the Founder or the slave. No kings, no war, no orders. Just… you. And me, of course. Because let's face it, you'd be completely lost without me."
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the smallest ghost of a smile touched Ymir's lips.
"...You really don't shut up, do you?"
Ember grinned, triumphant. "Nope! And lucky for you, I never give up either."
A long pause stretched between them. Then, Ymir exhaled slowly, lowering her head as if shedding an invisible weight.
"...Fine," she murmured. "Just for a little while."
Ember lit up like a firework. "Ha! I knew you couldn't resist my charm!"
Ymir rolled her eyes, but the chains around her wrists and ankles began to crack, pieces breaking away like sand in the wind. As they shattered, a rush of light swallowed them both—pulling them from the depths of Ymir's soul and out of the Paths.
For the first time in centuries, Ymir Fritz would walk the world again.