Author's Note: Hello, everyone, and welcome to the Remastered Edition of Attack on Titan: A Blacksmith's Tale. Special thanks to Necromancy101 for helping me remake this story and do much-needed edits on this. I will point out various times when he, or any of the other co-writers, has done lines for this story. They all deserve recognition. For all the people who have come from my old version, I will point out at the end of every chapter what I've changed and why.

Without further ado, let's all dive into this story. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Blacksmith of Yarckel

"Hello. My name is Dil" "No." "Hey, anybody who happens to be reading my" "That's just stupid." "To whom it may concern, if you are reading this, then…"

Letting out an annoyed sigh, the thirteen-year old placed the pen down. Starting his first journal entry was much harder than he thought. The beginning was the most important part of anything, and already, he was screwing that up. At least the carriage wasn't going over bumps.

"Regretting your decision, kid?" the driver asked as they passed Wall Sina towards Wall Rose.

"No," he answered. "Just trying to figure out how to start this journal."

"With the frustration I'm hearing, sounds more like you're writing an essay."

He simply shrugged. "Well, it's more like an autobiography… just in case something happens."

The carriage driver glanced backwards at him. "How old are you, twelve?"


He sighed. "Kids writing memoirs. Definitely a screwed-up world we live in." He paused for a moment as he mulled over the kid's plight. "If you're looking for some advice, I've got some for you."

"…I'm listening," the boy replied after some hesitation.

"Save the introduction for later. Start off with explaining what led you to enlisting."

That sounds logical, he had to admit inwardly. "Thanks, sir."

"Hey, your parents paid me a hefty sum. Least I could do."

"Fair enough." Taking a deep breath, the boy began writing, feeling a little more confident this time.

"It all started in the year 845. It was a day like any other in the Interior. Actually no, it wasn't. It started off with something interesting. I mean, not to say that."

This is going to take while. The boy thought as he grimly crumpled up the piece of paper and pocketed it.

(845; Yarckel District)

Living in an inner city was considered by many to be a dream come true. In the districts of Wall Maria and Rose, making ends meet was a difficult task, but within Wall Sina's districts, provided taxes didn't eat them alive, the more fortunate dwelled. From the upper class to the obscenely rich, from the hard workers to the spoiled brats, they came in all shapes and sizes. The one thing these people had in common with the rest of their country was that they could enjoy a beautiful day. While the sun beat down upon the city, there was a pleasant wind in the air, balancing things out. So, a stroll throughout the district seemed to be on the minds of Yarckel's residents.

Amidst the busy streets, a boy sat at a vacant table, reading the daily newspaper. His well-groomed, brown hair was one of the giveaways that he was of the upper class. His brown eyes were fixated on the paper, yet his ears were alert for something or someone. Normally, boys his age would either be playing in the streets, working, or sitting around at home like a prissy noble, but he was in the middle of something far more important.

His waiting was rewarded when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a particular man walking down the street who furtively glanced left and right as he went. Unlike the civilians that came by, this person wore a uniform with the emblem of a green unicorn apparent on the left side of the chest and more so on the back of the jacket. He was one of many Military Police officers, the ones that were supposed to be protecting the people and enforcing the laws, but those kinds of officers were too few in Sina. Abuse of power, black market trading, drug trafficking, and all sorts of things were what most MPs were engaged in. Anything to get far in their lives.

Our finest scum in uniform, he thought with a barely-concealed sneer. Question is: what kind of scum is he?

The officer glanced around, checking to see if he was being watched, but the boy busied himself with the newspaper. It wouldn't do good for anyone if he got caught. While he was keeping up appearances, a thought occurred to the boy. He was in the prime position to get the information he was looking for. All he needed was the find the right one.

Unbeknownst to anyone, the eyes of the child began to emit a silver glow. While he looked at the paper, his focus was completely on the officer, who was trying to hail a carriage.

Okay, Trey, take a deep breath, he heard in his mind. It's almost over.

He gets on a carriage, I'll lose him, the boy realized. Looks like I'll need to dig deeper.

His eyes shined brighter as he began searching. A thought attached to a memory would be the best thing he could look for. Sure enough, he began to hear words that would easily land him in jail. Deal… can't get caught… coderoin...

Drug deal. Wonderful, but where's the deal taking place?

The boy began to feel a headache come onto his mind about the same time as the officer felt it. He could mentally force his way in, but it would result in internal damage that couldn't be explained. Last thing he needed was to be found out due to his impatience. That being said, there was a memory linked to his thoughts, and he needed to unlock it. His eyes glowing just a bit more, he found it: an address and a time. Sealing it away in his own mind, the boy ceased his mental infiltration.

Trey massaged his head as he was hit with a migraine, but he needed to fight it off, especially since a carriage finally pulled up. Quickly, he entered it, muttering something about police business and a vague location. The carriage driver proceeded down the road, none the wiser as to his true intentions.

Once he was out of sight, the boy tossed the paper into the nearest bin and proceeded down the street. Paranoia flowed through his veins as he began to wonder if that officer had any friends that were keeping an eye out for suspicious activity, like a curious boy trying to get to his own meeting place after watching an officer take off. Logic kicked in as he realized that there's no way the MPs would make a convoluted strategy that would expose their intentions. Still, it paid to be careful when it came to those bastards.

"You look like you have a stalker on your tail," a voice stated after a few minutes, taking him out of his thoughts.

The boy halted in his tracks, facing a table with a woman sitting at it. Brushing the black hair out of the way of her face, the woman's eyes gazed at him in a way that sent him on edge.

"There's no one following me… I think," he replied hesitantly with a dry throat.

"No one's following you," she assured, gesturing for him to sit down. "What have you got for me, Dillon?"

"Officer Trey is heading straight for that warehouse that burned down a couple of years ago," Dillon explained after taking a seat. "Considering how he was checking for anyone suspicious, he's probably making his move now. But there's one more thing: whatever he's doing involves coderoin."

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you absolutely sure about that?"

"I heard him use that word, Kyler," Dillon answered. "Could be referenced to something else, but it might not be."

"We don't have any active stings involving that damn drug. Even if there were, it's not a chance I'm willing to take." Kyler stood up, nodding in approval. "Nice job, Dillon."

A wave of pride washed over him as he grinned at her. "Thanks. Can I—?"

"Go home and not get caught instead of coming to a dangerous location where you'll be put in more danger?" she interrupted with a smile. "Why, of course you can!"

The grin was replaced by a frown, but she had him there. The downside to being a temporary snitch was that he couldn't watch the arrest take place. His mom already made the MPs their enemies thanks to her job, and he would make it worse. Which was a shame, because watching them get their comeuppance would've been quite satisfying. "Yes, ma'am."

"That's Corporal to you," she corrected, ruffling his hair. "Now get out of here."

He swatted her hand away, smoothing his hair out. It had taken him a while to get his hair in the right style, and he didn't want it ruined.

As the chuckling woman headed down the street to hail a carriage, Dillon went in the opposite direction towards his home. Most of the time, he didn't have to worry about the Military Police causing him trouble, but his paranoia remained. Last thing he needed was to get arrested and face their wrath due to his actions today. That being said, he trusted Kyler to keep his identity anonymous and he was careful enough not to be seen.

Those comforting thoughts helped him relax as he went down the street. It was a beautiful day outside anyways and it seemed the people around him were taking advantage of that. The marketplace was bustling with activity, people selling all kinds of expensive jewelry. Normally, Dillon would browse and see what his options were, but he wasn't in the mood. All he wanted to do was get home.

After twenty minutes of walking, he came upon a two-story house with a sign in front that read: Amsdale's Forge. Technically, the forge itself was behind the building, but it was still a catchy name. A relieved smile appeared on his face as he drew closer. He couldn't wait to tell his father about what happened today.

After letting a man who carried two, sheathed daggers out, Dillon entered the store. An assortment of weapons ranging from daggers of many types, to swords, and even a mace surrounded him on the walls, though some were put in glass displays for all to see. The weapons were locked down tight to prevent any thieves from getting ideas, and even if that happened, they wouldn't get far. The signatures engraved on them made it easier to track down the morons who thought stealing from here was a good idea.

Dillon faced the only person currently in the store: a brown-haired man with a small, well-trimmed beard. His muscled frame was intimidating to most people, but the boy knew him well enough to feel less nervous around him.

"Hey, Pops," he greeted with a smile.

Matthew Amsdale was very pleased to see him as evident by the hug he gave him. "Hey, how'd it go?"

"I busted a coderoin sale," Dillon bragged. "Well… technically, Kyler's doing it as we speak, but I still helped. A lot."

His father gave him a look of suspicion. "Uh-huh. And how exactly did you uncover this fact?"

He shrugged, being coy. "Well, you know how MPs let things slip from time to time."

"Slipped from their minds, perhaps?" Matthew pressed without moving his mouth to talk.

A smirk appeared on the boy's face as he responded in kind. "You know it."

Matthew shook his head with amusement. "Just tell me there's no chance you got caught."

"I checked for tails and made myself out to be a typical civilian reading the newspaper," he assured. "Don't worry. We're safe."

He smiled, gripping his shoulder affectionately. "I'm proud of you son."

"Thanks, Dad." Straightening out a few weapons, he asked, "Did we get any orders today?"

"Believe it or not, we got an order from the Reiss family."

Dillon froze, staring at him in shock. "They contracted us?"

"That's right," he answered, handing him a piece of paper. "A custom-made short sword with the best metal we've got along with a full tang hilt, and ancient lettering that leads from the cross guard to about halfway up the sword."

The boy let out a whistle. "Looks like we've got our hands full today. How much did they—?" If there was ever a moment that Dillon's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, this was it when he saw the bottom of the paper. "F-Five hundred thousand!?"

"And that was the price they suggested," Matthew added, shaking his head as he thought about that encounter. "I tried to get them to go down, but they wouldn't accept it. I don't think I need to tell you to be very careful with this one."

"I will," Dillon promised, a grin appearing on his face. "Let's get to work."

For hours, the blacksmiths began construction on the sword. They had to make sure this would be the best of the best. Trial and error was common in their business, but today, a lot more errors began appearing during the hammering process. Forging a basic sword shape should have been simple were it not for Dillon's anxiety. 500,000 was not a number to be brushed off lightly, especially when that number was connected to a Noble Family.

"Dillon, don't be nervous," Matthew had urged after the fourth screw up. "I know you want to do a good job, so just do what you've always done."

Once that pep talk had been given, they finally got the metal into the proper shape within twenty minutes.

About time. Dillon thought as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. "So far, so good?"

"You tell me, Dillon," Matthew replied, getting a wet towel to cool himself towel.

The boy stared at the sword for a moment, analyzing how they hammered it so far. "Yeah, we did good."

"I agree." He tossed him another damp towel. "Make sure you don't get another heat stroke."

He rolled his eyes. "Dad, that only happened twice."


Wisely, Dillon conceded. "Okay, okay."

Suddenly, there a knock on the door. "Hello? Are there two, handsome men inside?"

"Only if there's a beautiful woman that wants to see them," Matthew answered in a coy tone.

Chuckling, the door opened to reveal Carolyn Amsdale in her typical brown ponytail, putting down her briefcase so she could hug her husband and kiss him. "Hello, dear."

"Hello, sweetheart," he replied.

"Hi, Mom," Dillon interrupted, embracing her once she was done with his father.

After giving him a kiss on the cheek, she pulled back. "Well, you're becoming more like your father every day."

Without his shirt, they could see muscles developing on the child's body very well. Naturally, his physique paled in comparison to his father's, but he would eventually get there. The scars and burns from their job were very apparent, some more recent than others. They were lessons that were learned the hard way.

"Thanks, Mom." Then, he remembered the events from this morning. "Hey, did Kyler catch that corrupt officer?"

"I'll tell you about it during dinner," she promised, giving them stern looks. "And after you shower."

"After I read the guy's mind, I informed Kyler where he was going, and she sent me home," Dillon finished, taking another bite of the beef.

"Good, because if she took you to the arrest, I would have strangled her on the spot." Father and son knew that she wasn't kidding.

"...Well, I appreciate you letting me help her out," Dillon responded. "Felt going taking the bastard down."

"Hey, none of that language during dinner," Matthew warned. "You know the rules."


Carolyn heaved a sigh as she placed her utensils down for the moment. "Dillon, your father and I are proud of you for helping Kyler out, but you're not going to be doing that again."

Dillon stopped eating, staring at her in shock. "What? But why?"

"Dillon, it's too risky," Matthew explained. "Forget the fact that Kyler could have figured you out. If the Military Police found out you were the snitch, it would only fuel the fire." A worrying thought occurred to him as he glanced over to his wife. "She doesn't suspect anything, does she?"

"When she questioned Trey, he denied ever saying where he was going. Fortunately, she played it off as him being a good liar. We're safe." Carolyn guaranteed.

"But you let me help Kyler," Dillon protested. "I did a good job. Besides, if something happens, Zackley can-"

"No." Matthew put his foot down, silencing all debate. "Darius is protecting us, but if we cross the line, that protection is gone. Drop the subject and eat your food. Now."

The boy looked away, his scowl all too apparent, but his parents were right. Even if they weren't, he didn't have a choice in the matter. So, he did what he was told as continued to munch on the beef

Carolyn decided to change the subject to ease the tension. "So… I hear you two are making a sword for the Reiss family."

Not wanting to ruin dinner with a sour mood, Matthew followed his mother's lead. "Yeah, we are. It could be the biggest payday we ever get. Dillon managed to get the hilt molded into the right shape all by himself."

Normally, Dillon would beam at the praise, especially from the tall order, but he couldn't stop thinking about what happened with Trey. For once, he was able to know the feeling his mother felt when she brought down a corrupt MP or noble after weeks of preparation and days of fighting in the courtroom. He did good, and he wanted to do more.

Carolyn easily picked up what he was thinking despite not having mental abilities. "Keep training with your father, and if he thinks you're prepared... I'll ask Kyler if you can help her out again."

Dillon's countenance brightened up considerably. Before he could gush out his thanks like a hose, there was a frantic banging on their door. Carefully, Matthew stood up approached the door, levitating a flintlock to his hand. Keeping it out of sight, he opened the door to see a young man carrying a stack of newspapers with a look of horror on his face.

"Kid, what's wrong?" Matthew questioned before getting a response he never imagined would happen.

"Wall Maria's been breached!" he shouted, throwing several papers at him before taking off. "The Titans have invaded!"

Matthew froze, horrified by the news. The Titans were one of the biggest reasons he and his wife moved to Wall Sina. To learn of them breaking in was unthinkable. How could that be possible if they weren't strong enough to get through the Walls before?

He stared down at the article, and the truth became clear. A Colossal Titan that was not only taller than any other Titan in existence but was taller than the Wall appeared and broke down Shiganshina's gate with a single kick. Shortly after that, an Armored Titan appeared that was immune to cannon fire and busted down the other gate, allowing the Titans to get in, roam Wall Maria's territory, and eat every human in sight.

"Matthew…" Carolyn whispered, holding his hand tightly. It was clear she was afraid like he was.

"They... they haven't gotten to Wall Rose yet," he said once he managed to find his voice.

Worst yet was Dillon's reaction. He was petrified with fear, imagining that any second, those horrible monsters he was told about would bust in any second. He could see it now: giant, humanoid beings with frozen smiles on their faces. Eating every screaming human in sight, they're mouths becoming drenched with blood. All efforts to run would be in vain as they were surrounded. Nothing could save them from—


The boy recoiled, falling backwards onto the couch behind him, though his head hit the wall before he landed.

"Are you okay?" Carolyn asked, helping him up while checking the back of his head for injuries.

"They're coming, aren't they?" he said, looking at them, feeling like he was about to panic. "Are we gonna die?"

Shaking her head, his mother hugged him tightly. "It's going to be okay, Dillon. I promise."

Matthew just stared into the distance, seeing the Wall that loomed above them. He wondered if it was even possible to keep that promise anymore.

"It was the first time I truly understood the threat of the Titans, creatures that defined fear. They don't hesitate, they don't feel, and they don't reason. All they do is eat every human in sight. And now, there were two Titans that could break down the Walls. It took me a month to figure out that we weren't going to die any second, but that terror still remained. I was thankful to have never met a Titan then, but in my dreams? They were always waiting for me.

"Humanity's suffering, however, would get worse. A year later, the refugees from Wall Maria piled into Wall Rose, trying to survive in a new environment. Tension was rising, food was getting scarce thanks to the famine that hit, and the districts were getting too populated for them to handle. So, the government made a decision to fix those problems, a decision that changed my life…"

Once again, Dillon found himself staring at the newspaper article, feeling nothing but anger and sadness. All those people sent out to "reclaim Wall Maria" were nothing more than sacrifices to the Titans. The government gave that order, and Dillon hated them for it. They weren't protecting the people; they were protecting themselves like they always did. Monsters on both sides, and there was no escape.

How he wished he could take the fight to the bastards in power. They didn't deserve it. All they did was step on the people they deemed were beneath them. Nothing would give Dillon more satisfaction than to vindicate all the victims, and end the government's corrupt ways once and for all. He had special powers, so why not use them to bring actual justice for a change? He scoffed at his childish dream. It could never be that simple. All he would get accomplished is a long and painful death, knowing that he would bring his parents down with him. He wasn't completely stupid. Still, it brought him no end of grief knowing that there was nothing he could do. Despite his power, he was trapped just like the rest of humanity.

But it didn't have to be that way. There was still a chance for him to do some good. It was risky with a high chance of getting killed, but he would have a better chance than anyone else.

Suddenly, a tapping at the door brought him out of thoughts. "Dillon? Can we come in?"

Recognizing his mother's voice, he put the article aside. "Yeah."

His parents entered his bedroom, carrying concerned expressions.

"Dillon, it's been four days," Carolyn said. "Please don't shut us out. We want to help you."

He found himself unable to talk as he stared down at the floor.

Matthew sighed, deciding to take the blunt approach. "Dillon, your mother and I know you're upset, and we don't blame for it, but there's nothing you can do about it. What's done is done. You have to move on."

Those statements sparked a fire within Dillon. "You're wrong."

His father didn't expect that. "What?"

"There is something I can do." Finding the strength within him, he locked eyes with them. "I'm going to enlist."

His parents looked at each other for a moment. They had a sinking feeling that this was the direction he would be heading in, and it wasn't easier hearing him say it. There were three factions he would be allowed to join and one of them took the fight straight to the Titans.

"Son, you need to think this over," Matthew urged. "Life as a soldier is drastically different from the life you're leading here. They will beat you to the ground."

"It's a small price to pay," he countered. "Besides, you've been training me since I was eight. I know what that's like."

"That's different, Dillon, and you know it."

"If you want to help people, there are better ways than becoming a soldier," Carolyn pointed out quickly. "Organizations that help the people from Wall Maria. You could do them a good service."

"That's not good enough, Mom!" he shot back.

"Then how about the fact we don't want to lose our only son!?" she demanded as she struggled to contain her emotions. "You have a wonderful gift, Dillon, but one mistake and you will die! I can't lose you!"

Her words impacted Dillon, his determination giving way to sorrow. "I… I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't want that. But..." He took a deep breath and began letting his frustration. "I can't pretend I didn't read the paper. I can't pretend I don't know what happened. I can't pretend that we're safe when those Titans are out there." He clenched his fist, anger expelling from his heart. "250,000 people are dead! Not just any people, but most of the Wall Maria refugees! Why did they have to be sacrificed!?"

"What would you rather, Dillon?" Matthew questioned calmly, giving him a pointed look. "For the government to send people from the Interior to die? Would it have been better if we died? Or maybe the corrupt Military Police? Maybe they should've sent all of them to their deaths because they deserve it."

Sufficiently cowed, Dillon tore her gaze away. "That's… that's not…"

He sighed, kneeling to his level. "Son, there's not a single decision in the world that would've made things better for anyone. Mass starvation or mass sacrifice. We both know what happened was wrong, and we can only guess the motives of the people in charge of that order... but losing twenty percent of our population was the lesser of the two evils."

"Your father's right," Carolyn added, getting her composure back. "Decisions aren't usual made with right and wrong in mind, especially in the military; they're made with what people deem to be logical and most important to them. It's called being pragmatic."

"Pragmatic," he repeated, testing the word out as he thought about the concept. He hated that the world was like this, forcing people to become bad to achieve something good.

"And those are the kinds of decisions that await you if you join the Scout Regiment after Training," Matthew finished.

Doubt gnawed at him as Dillon's tone got quiet. "I don't want to become a bad person, Dad."

Carolyn sat on the bed and wrapped her arm around his shoulder in an effort to comfort him. "Being pragmatic doesn't make you bad, Dillon. It hurts, but if you make a call like that, you're not evil. In the end, you just want to help as many people as you can. Does that sound like something a bad person would do?"

He shook his head slowly. "No."

"Then you won't be one. You have strong convictions, Dillon, and they're going to be tested, but your father and I believe in you. Even if you slip up, if you make mistakes, we'll never stop loving you. Do you trust us enough to do that?"

Dillon looked at his parents and gave a sincere nod. "Yes."

She kissed him on the forehead and embraced him, hoping that would help.

Then, Matthew spoke after mulling the decision over, making the hardest call he had ever made. "Dillon, I want you to wait a year. Four days after what happened is too soon to make a life-altering decision. If you still want to enlist, if you're willing to go through everything training throws at you, and you'll follow through with your decisions… then your mother and I will support you."

Carolyn was taken aback by that deal, and she gave her husband a look that promised a very long talk with him.

Dillon, however, took it to heart as he nodded in return. "Deal."

"The days seemed to go at a snail's pace just to make the wait even longer. I still did my job, I fulfilled my obligations, but my heart wasn't completely in those things like it once was. My resolve to join the military got stronger with every day. Once the year had finally passed, I didn't even have to say anything for them to know my mind was made up. I was going to enlist."

Dillon gulped as he stared at the carriage that would take him away to Training. He had been waiting so long for this, and now that the path was before him, taking the first step was much harder than he thought it would be. He looked back at her parents, who waited for him to depart. His mom was trying to keep it together and his father, despite him calm exterior, couldn't hide the sadness in his eyes.

Heaving a sigh, the teenager walked away from the carriage and gave his parents one last hug. "I'll come back," he promised. "Whatever happens out there, I'll come back."

"Don't forget to write," Carolyn urged, sniffing. "I want to make sure you're doing okay."

"Yes, ma'am." He looked at his dad. "I'll put our training to good use."

"I know you will," Matthew replied. "We love you so much."

"I love you, too."

With every ounce of effort, Dillon backed out of the hug. He ignored the voice in his mind telling him not to go, to stay with his family, but he refused to listen. It was time to go. He stepped inside the carriage, taking a seat as he stared at his parents. He gave one final wave which they returned as the driver pulled on the reins. He was on his way at last.

"All right, kid, this is your stop," the driver announced, bringing the carriage to a halt. "Not too late to turn back now."

"You seem a bit adamant in taking me back home," Dillon noted with a raised eyebrow.

"You're leaving the safety of your home to put your ass on the line against creatures that'll eat you without a second thought," the driver pointed out. "Forgive me if I'm a little concerned."

"I appreciate the concern, sir, but my mind's made up," he said, putting on his pack of necessary items. "We can't fight Titans if there's no one to fight them."

"Whatever you say, you idealistic brat..." the driver muttered. "Good luck out there."

"Thank you."

Once he stepped outside, Dillon gazed at his home for the next few years. So different from Yarckel. Instead of buildings clustered together, it was a large section of rocky terrain all around him with only a few buildings. He had never seen anything like it. For a moment, he wondered how humanity created this before realizing this was just the natural Earth his people had adopted. His regrets upon leaving home were fading.

One step took him further from his house. The second step took him further from his parents. The third step took him away from his former life. The fourth took him towards a new one.

Remastered Edits: Everything. The expositional journal entry? One of my biggest blunders that I needed to fix. By the end of all this, I might just make a Top 10 Biggest Blunders list.

5/3/2020: Fixed some grammar mistakes, and replaced some repeated words. Thank God for a thesaurus. Changed a little bit of the dinner dialogue towards the end to keep things focused on Dillon's drive to fight the MPs.

Feel free to leave your thoughts on this chapter and I look forward to seeing you all in the next one.