Iɴʙᴏx ✉ Vɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ Rᴏᴀᴅ

[bertall]

Um... This is Bertolt, and if you're hearing this I'm probably busy. You can leave a message here or call back later if you want? ...Can I start over?

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[bertall]

<sub>[It's old - he can smell it when he carefully opens it to a random page and Bertolt's brows furrow a little. If it's from outside the walls... Did it come from Marley? Or some other part of the world before all of that...? He can't find a publisher or anything of the like on any of the pages either which makes his brows furrow even more.

Maybe it was torn out, too. This had belonged to his grandfather, but what about the person before him? Or maybe... Gods, there were so many unanswered questions about this already.

Fortunately he can't find anything that would raise too many eyebrows though. Oceans certainly existed back home and poor Bertolt's stomach churns a little at the thought of that boat. Deserts... He doesn't like to think about that trek after getting off of the boat either. It's not that it was a bad trip, but the sand. Gods, the sand.]</sub>

...Do you know where he got it from?

[schachmeister]

No.

[Armin shakes his head a bit.]

He's never told me. Nearest he ever said is that he always had it. It might have been something he got from my great-grandfather, but I don't really know more than that. It's not as if we could really speak openly about something like this.

[It's very well possible that this book is something someone smuggled long when King Fritz brought his subjects to Paradise and created the walls. It is certainly old enough for that.]