Next Day
"Ready to go to Trost?" he asked, looking at Carla, who was now fully recovered.
She nodded.
"Let's go and catch the boat before it leaves," he said.
He turned toward Eren and Mikasa. Eren had returned on his own yesterday, but it was obvious he didn't remember where he had been. That made sense now—he had both the Attack Titan and Founding Titan powers.
As they prepared to leave, Mikasa glanced between them, her usual serious expression barely shifting.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked.
He nodded. "We have to. If we stay too long, we might miss our chance."
Eren, still looking slightly confused, frowned but said nothing. It was clear that something was stirring inside him, something he couldn't quite grasp yet.
With that, they gathered their things and headed toward the docks.
The streets were still damp from last night's rain. Footsteps echoed against the cobblestone roads as they made their way toward the docks.
Carla walked beside him, her expression calm, though he could tell she was deep in thought. Mikasa stayed close to Eren, her eyes flicking toward him every now and then as if watching for any sign of change.
As they approached the harbor, the scent of saltwater mixed with the distant calls of merchants and dockworkers. The boat was already preparing to depart, sails fluttering in the breeze.
"Looks like we made it just in time," he muttered.
The wooden boat rocked gently as it drifted down the river, carried by the current toward Trost. The rhythmic splashing of oars cutting through the water filled the air, blending with the occasional distant calls of birds overhead.
Zen sat near the edge. The river was wide, its surface reflecting the cloudy sky above. Carla sat beside him, her hands resting in her lap, while Mikasa and Eren sat across from them, the latter staring at the water in silence.
Eren had been unusually quiet since yesterday. His brows were furrowed slightly, deep in thought, but he hadn't said anything about what happened after he disappeared. Typical. He probably doesn't even realize what's happening to him yet.
After some time, the silhouette of Trost's walls came into view. The river bent slightly, leading them toward a wooden docking area where other small boats were moored. Soldiers stood on watch nearby, keeping an eye on those arriving.
As the boat came to a stop, Zen stepped onto the dock first, reaching out to help Carla. Mikasa followed, keeping close to Eren, who still looked somewhat lost in thought.
The air in Trost was livelier than back in Shiganshina. Merchants moved along the docks, unloading goods, while groups of people talked in hushed voices, most likely refugees still trying to find a place to stay.
Zen exhaled, taking in the crowded streets beyond the docks. First things first—they needed a place to stay.
Carla adjusted the bag slung over her shoulder, glancing at him. "Where do we go from here?"
Zen looked around. Trost was packed with people—mostly refugees from Shiganshina, just like them. That meant housing would be difficult to find, especially for free. His best bet was finding an inn or some abandoned building that hadn't already been claimed.
"We'll look for an inn first," he said. "If that doesn't work, we'll figure something else out."
They moved through the streets, passing makeshift camps set up in alleyways. Families huddled together, some trying to stay warm with whatever blankets they had. It was clear that Trost was struggling to accommodate the sudden influx of people.
After a few stops at different inns—all of which were either full or too expensive—Zen was beginning to get frustrated. The sun was getting lower, casting long shadows across the cobbled streets.
Finally, at the edge of the district, he spotted an old boarding house with a sign that looked like it hadn't been changed in years. It wasn't much, but it looked intact.
Pushing open the door, Zen was greeted by the smell of wood and dust. An old woman sat behind a small counter, her sharp eyes watching them.
"Rooms?" she asked bluntly.
Zen nodded. "Yeah. Three, if possible."
The woman scoffed. "Three? Be grateful if I have one left."
Zen exchanged a glance with Carla before sighing. "Fine. We'll take it."
"Payment's due at the start of every week," the woman said, tossing a rusted key onto the counter. "No trouble. No complaints."
Zen picked up the key and led the others upstairs. The room was small—barely enough space for a bed, a chair, and a tiny table. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
Carla sat on the bed, exhaling. "At least we have a roof over our heads."
Mikasa remained quiet, standing near the window, while Eren sat on the floor, staring down at his hands.
"You guys rest. I'll go outside and check around," he said as he slowly walked out the door.
"Wait, I'm coming too," Mikasa said suddenly.
He glanced back at her. She was already reaching for her scarf, adjusting it slightly before stepping forward.
"Suit yourself," he muttered, stepping out onto the narrow wooden walkway that connected the rooms.
The small inn they were staying at wasn't much—just a cheap place in Trost, barely holding together. The walls were old, the wooden floors creaked, and the air inside was slightly damp. But at least it gave them a roof over their heads.
Outside, the streets of Trost were still busy despite the approaching evening. Merchants packed up their stalls, while a few soldiers patrolled nearby. The scent of baked bread mixed with the faint stench of livestock, creating the familiar atmosphere of a cramped inner district.