FMA Fic: "Fragments Born of Pain" 1/?
Title: Fragments Born of Pain
Author: evil_little_dog
Genre: Adventure/Romance
Rating: R
Word Count: Appx 19,600 (at present, as story is incomplete).
Characters/Pairings: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell, Paninya, Dr. Marcoh, Original Characters. Edward/Winry
Warnings: Post 108 fic.
Summary: The discovery of a transmutation circle in an ancient city leads to problems for Edward and Alphonse that no one would’ve ever suspected.
Disclaimer: Arakawa is completely the owner of this universe. This story is a derivative work, and as such, I make no money from it. Drat it all.
Thanks To: cornerofmadness and ishte for edits, and for elasg for her inspiring artwork!
Prologue
The past is still, for us, a place that is not safely settled.
Michael Ondaatje
Alphonse was accustomed to the sunlight back home, in Risembool, but here, in the high altitude hills at the borders of Xing and the Eastern Desert and Ishbal, the light seemed different. Diffuse, from the rarified air, maybe. Wiping his forehead on the back of his arm, he glanced up at the sun. He still had a few hours yet before he had to get back to Balaghat. The Ishbalans refused to sleep in the ancient, unnamed city here in the mountain, and Alphonse understood why. It wasn’t because of the threat of ghosts, but, having been abandoned for what appeared to be centuries, it would be dangerous to be in it at night. He’d sprung enough traps to realize whomever had created this city had left it to protect itself from intruders. The overgrowth from the jungle made it even harder to navigate the streets, much less avoid the traps.
“Mr. Alphonse!”
He turned at the sound of his name, waving his hand spade at the girl trotting toward him, a jug of water cradled in his hands. “Careful, Nesrah! Make sure to follow the path I cut out of the brush.”
She nodded, slowing her headlong pace and picking her way more slowly. Nesrah had been one of the children to locate the city; she and her siblings playing higher up in the foothills than the adults generally went, following the sheep and goats the Ishbalans raised. They’d been the ones who’d led the children into the city, and the children, in turn, led Alphonse and some of the other adults here. The Ishbalans decided they didn’t need to know more about the city, though there were no taboos to keep Alphonse, or the goats and sheep, and their shepherds, from exploring it.
Nesrah placed her bare feet carefully as she climbed up the stone steps, the rise much higher than comfortable even for an adult, to reach Alphonse. Handing him the jug, she turned, sitting down on a broken slab of granite and swinging her legs. She didn’t seem to realize how high up she was sitting, nor how far down the fall would be if she slipped. Alphonse kept his mouth closed. The children had been playing here for more years than he’d had his real body back. When he’d asked if any of them were afraid, they’d given him the same blank stares he was sure he and Ed had given adults asking the same stupid question when they were kids.
Taking a drink from the jug, Alphonse let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until he actually smelled the sweet, cool water. “Thank you, Nesrah.”
She dimpled, her ruby eyes squinting half-closed in her pleasure. “You’re welcome, Mr. Alphonse! Did you find anything new today?”
He took another drink and set the jug down, careful to make sure the rounded bottom was settled into a niche to keep the water from spilling out. The sandy desert made its own table, and the round-bottom jugs dug into the sand to remain upright. Here, in the highlands, amidst the rock and green growing things, the round-bottom jugs weren’t quite as practical. “A few beads,” he reached for the leather pouch he used to store the treasures he’d found. “Look.” Pulling out a golden bead, he passed it to Nesrah.
She let out an appreciative gasp, turning the bead over in her fingers. “It looks like a long-necked goat!”
“I think it’s a llama,” Alphonse told Nesrah as she handed the bead back. “They’re kind of like camels, I think, or maybe sheep.” He shrugged, he hadn’t really studied what sort of genus the llama were when he’d seen his first one, instead he’d been more amazed at how well they spit. Juggling the two additional beads, Alphonse offered them to Nesrah. One was a pendant, carved out of a blue stone shot with sparkles of gold pyrite. A baleful face glared out of either side. The pendant was different on each side, not quite mirror images; the other a cylindrical bead of gold, a tube with two indentations on either end. Nesrah studied them and returned them, and Alphonse dumped them carefully in the pouch again.
“What else do you think you’ll find, Mr. Alphonse?” Nesrah asked, practically dancing in place in her enthusiasm.
“I don’t know, Nesrah,” Alphonse had to say. “Maybe something totally amazing. Maybe just some more of these beads.”
Nesrah tucked her forefinger into the corner of her mouth, a scowl marring her forehead. Suddenly, she brightened, grabbing Alphonse’s wrist with her damp hand. “I can show you something! Get up, Mr. Alphonse!”
Groaning, Alphonse got to his feet, staggering for a second as the blood rushed back down to his lower extremities. “All right,” he said, “but remember, Nesrah, we need to be careful.”
“Mm!” She kept hold of him, though her hand slid down to clasp his as she led him along. Surefooted as one of the animals she might have shepherded around this site, she led him along down a narrow path between two large walls, one of natural stone, the other obviously built by human hands. Nesrah didn’t give Alphonse time to marvel, tugging at him whenever he tried to stop and look at something. “Come quickly, Mr. Alphonse, or you won’t see!”
He glanced skyward. The sun’s light had gone ruddy and the bowl of sky overhead changed from the clear blue of the day to more indigo and violet tones, indicating that dusk approached. They needed to leave the mountain soon or risk being stuck in the dead city overnight. “Where are you taking me, Nesrah?”
“Not much further,” she promised, giving him a bright grin and pointing toward the top of a hill. Scampering up it much like the goats she’d herded, she led a slower Alphonse to the top of the rise, standing on what had to be a man-made mound - he wasn’t sure just how he knew, but maybe Mei’s attempts to teach him about the Dragon’s Pulse had paid off in some way.
Blowing as he reached the top of the rise, Alphonse stopped to mop his forehead. The air was definitely thinner up here. It took a few seconds for him to catch his breath. Beside him, Nesrah danced from one foot to the other. “Look!”
Alphonse straightened, pressing his hands into the small of his back. As he followed Nesrah’s pointing finger, all the little nagging pains disappeared, and he sucked in a deep breath. “Nesrah,” he whispered, putting his hand on her head to try to get her to stay still. He wanted to drink it down, the sight in front of him, of a figure carved from stone. “Dad,” he whispered, eyes wide.
“What?”
“Shh, Nesrah.” Eyes raking over the figure, Alphonse decided it wasn’t really his father; the nose was even longer than Dad’s had been and the eyes were decidedly more narrow. His cheekbones were higher, too, and his chin weaker. Still, there was a resemblance, something that told Alphonse that the carving was of a Xerxian man. And, in relief above his head, a transmutation circle, and symbols Alphonse had only seen once before.
“Oh, wow,” he whispered. “Brother really needs to see this.” Grinning down at Nesrah, he said, “Thank you. Thank you for showing me this. Now,” he glanced toward the sky, “we really need to get off this mountain.”
X X X
Chapter One
It’s not what you find, it’s what you find out.
David Hurst Thoma
Edward would never willingly say he’d gotten used to Rush Valley, but it had definitely become accustomed to him and his idiosyncrasies. One of those included his reading habits - definitely peculiar, as Edward had a tendency to walk through Rush Valley with his nose in a book, somehow managing to avoid crashing into inanimate objects (people, horses and dogs were fair game, though, and got a mumbled apology that, while it didn’t necessarily seem heartfelt, did a lot to smooth his way as the eccentric scholar in the community).
He did the same when letters arrived addressed to him, giving them his full and utter attention as he walked through the streets, somehow managing to adroitly dodge venders and children running around him, some of them sporting automail, some not. If Edward caught wind of some delicious smell, he might stop and absently buy whatever food was being sold, but most of the times, he would wander from the post office back to the Rockbell Automail workshop, with the apartment he shared with his wife taking up the second and third floors. He’d walk through the shop, nodding absently at the customers, remember to say ‘hey’ to Winry, and head off either to the back courtyard - off limits to everyone but family and friends - or upstairs, depending on the weather.
Despite the fact that heat rose, and everyone in Rush Valley knew it, the apartment was usually cool in hot weather, what with Edward paying to install one of the new air coolers in the building. Winry had tinkered with it, making it even more efficient, and it kept the entire building at a good, even temperature during the hottest weather. Winry liked wood burning stoves - they reminded her of the fireplace back in Risembool - so Edward had paid for some top of the line soapstone stoves to heat the building. The thick walls helped keep the building both cool and warm, a typical Rush Valley design that Edward approved of, albeit grudgingly. All in all, their home was comfortable, despite being atop a smelly machine shop, and a good place for Edward to get his own work done - research, mostly; Xingese alkahestry, history, alchemy, Xerxesian studies.
The letter from Xing was a thick packet, the wax seal on the back scrubbed, but Edward was still able to spot the design Alphonse had designed for his personal ‘chop’ - some sort of Xingese thing that he’d never been able to really explain; or maybe Edward just wasn’t paying close enough attention - the flamel they’d both worn while traveling around Amestris. Edward would’ve recognized his brother’s handwriting regardless of the seal; Alphonse’s hand was fluid, and delicate, with perfect loops, while Edward’s handwriting remained scratchy, even though he now had his dominant hand back to write with. When he printed, it was clear, and Edward usually printed when doing research or notations, but writing letters was something else entirely. Winry had complained cheerfully that reading one of his letters was like trying to decipher an alchemy journal written in Cretan. Edward took that as a compliment, even though he knew she’d been teasing him. Alphonse’s letters, though, could easily be read, even if he and Edward did write in code to each other, both to keep their hands in and also to protect some of the more sensitive information they exchanged.
This was not a coded letter, though Edward wondered if maybe Alphonse should’ve sent it that way. Then again, the letter would’ve been even longer than the eight pages it already was - pages of notes as well as sketches, and Alphonse’s very excited ramblings. Edward grabbed a notepad of his own, taking it with him outside to the courtyard. A cat sunned itself on the table there, and Edward grumbled at it. Mrs. Lancaster’s stupid cat jumped the walls and pooped and pissed in the flowers, and he hadn’t figured out a way to keep the cat out of the courtyard yet. “Get out of here,” he said, waving at the big yellow tom, who glared back, the tip of his tail twitching. Setting down the letter and notepad, Edward picked up the cat - difficult, at best, as the tom seemed boneless and liquid when he carried it to the wall, and, standing on his toes, dropped the cat over the wall and onto the bench he knew was there, and helped the stupid cat get over the wall in the first place. Knowing the cat would be flipping him off with his tail didn’t endear the animal to Edward any more than him using his courtyard for his personal toilet, and he reminded himself he needed to talk to Mrs. Lancaster, again. Or maybe Winry and he should just break down and get a dog. A couple of yappy puppy attacks would probably keep the cat out of the courtyard, if Mrs. Lancaster couldn’t.
Heading back to the table, Edward settled in, tucking his pen between his teeth as he began reading again. Thoughts of the cat left his mind as he began dissecting each page of the letter, including the drawings. His focus trained on the words and illustrations, Edward didn’t notice when Winry came outside, pulling out the chair across from his and sitting down.
“Ed?”
He blinked at the sound of his name, somewhat startled and looking around defensively. “Winry!” His shoulders ached, and eyestrain made itself known now that he looked away from the pages. How long had he been sitting here? Glancing around with a wince at the pull of his muscles, Edward spotted the sun, farther to the west than it had been, obviously hours ago. Now that his attention was off the letter, his stomach growled, loud enough for him to hear it.
“Must be a good letter.” Winry laid her elbows on the table, crossing her arms. “You’ve been out here about four hours.”
“Al,” Edward said, gesturing with the pen. “He found out about something out in the desert.”
Cocking her head, Winry asked, “What kind of something?”
Edward turned the pages to her. “It looks like an ancient city.” As Winry picked up the pages and began skimming through them, he went on. “It’s really on the border of Xing and the Eastern Desert, a mountain in the foothills. I guess the Ishbalans could claim it if they wanted to, but.” He shrugged, tapping the notepad covered in script.
“Al thinks the city’s really ancient.” Winry peered at Edward over the pages.
“Yeah.” Edward grinned.
“Is there something older than Xerxes?” Winry studied one of the illustrations Alphonse had drawn.
“Hey, Xing’s old.”
She glanced up again, her eyebrows cocking up.
“A lot older than Amestris, at least.”
“Yeah.” Winry finished her cursory look at the letter, fanning the loose pages to raise a breeze before setting them down to reach for Edward’s notepad. “What’s this?”
The back of his neck heated up as Edward rubbed it. With a sheepish grin, he said, “Something’s not adding up.”
“Hmm?” Winry flipped through the pad. “What do you mean?”
Edward leaned across the table, taking the notepad and letter back. “There’s something about this place. Yeah, it’s covered in underbrush now, but look at this.” Scooting his chair around, he turned to a page in his notepad. “This is part of an ancient alchemy transmutation circle. I found documentation of this circle in a book in an old Western library. I’d never seen this kind of circle before. The book was ancient, I mean, so old, I wasn’t even allowed to touch it personally; a woman with gloves had to turn the pages for me.” Edward rolled his eyes at that, though a part of him understood how fragile the book was. “I couldn’t read it. She couldn’t even tell me what language it was in, just that a local alchemist had donated everything in his collection when he died, and the book was part of it. I copied a lot of it, at least the illustrations, but the language.” Shaking his head, Edward frowned in remembrance of how frustrating it had been, not being able to read the book.
“And?” Winry prompted.
“Sorry.” Edward tapped his pen on the transmutation circle again. “I’d only ever seen this circle there, in that book, but look.” Finding the right page of Alphonse’s letter, Edward set it next to his notepad. “They’re the same.”
Winry nodded slowly, turning to Edward. “But what kind of circle is it?”
Letting a slow hiss of air out between his teeth, Edward said, “I don’t know. And neither does Al.”
“Does he know about the one in the book?” Winry picked up the notepad again, even though alchemy still didn’t mean much to her.
“Yeah,” Edward nodded, “I sent it to him a while back.” He didn’t say he’d sent it encrypted, over three separate letters, not wanting someone else to see the circle and try to use it. At least until they’d figured out what the hell it was for. “We’ve been doing some research into it, but.” He shrugged, spreading his hands.
Winry laid the pad down again, turning to face Edward more fully. “So…Al’s asking for you.”
Edward nodded, his mouth twitching.
“You want to go.” It wasn’t a question.
“You have your master’s test.” It was coming up soon, too; only a couple of weeks away.
Winry shrugged, a twinkle in her eyes. “If you’re not here, I can get more work done.”
“Are you saying I’m a distraction?” Edward asked, arching his brows. Leaning back in his chair, he shifted his weight, all but posing for her.
Snorting, Winry said, “No, you’re always in my way and whining for something. ‘Winry, I want lunch. Come and rub my back.’” Her voice took on his deeper, brash tones, not a bad imitation, really. “‘I’ve got something you can polish.’”
It was Edward’s turn to snort. “I don’t sound like that,” he said, wondering if she’d laugh. She did, a bright chuckle that made Edward smile and lean toward her in response, blowing his pose. Reaching over, he took one of her hands. He rubbed his thumb over the familiar calluses on the inside of her palm. Winry grinned, tugging her hand reflexively - how her palm could be ticklish sometimes always amazed Edward. “I want to go to Balaghat.” At Winry’s knowing grin, he protested. “What can I say? I’m curious.”
“Okay.” Winry leaned over and kissed him. “Just don’t rush right out to the next train, okay? I’ve got supper cooking.”
Edward kissed her back, a bit more forcefully, letting go of her hand to lay his on her knees. “I’m not going anywhere today.”
“Good.” Her smile bloomed as she nuzzled his cheek. “I’d like a chance to say ‘goodbye’ properly, after all.”
“Mm, can’t wait,” Edward murmured, sliding his palm up her thigh.
Winry wagged a finger at him. “Ah, ah, ah. I’ve got some work to finish up, and then dinner. Dessert has to wait.”
Groaning, Edward leaned back in his chair, shifting his weight to adjust for the pressure his trousers put on his half-masted erection. “Fine, fine. You go get your work done and I’ll,” he glanced toward the third floor of their home, “I’ll go pack.”
With a laugh, Winry got to her feet. She stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers, her skin cool and perfumed with the smell of steel and the lightweight machine oil she used to maintain automail. No polish today. Edward preferred the way she smelled right out of a shower, floral and warm, but he couldn’t say that this scent, mixed with that particular essence that made up Winry, couldn’t arouse him, too. He nipped at the webbing between her thumb and first finger, letting go with a wicked grin. “I have work, Ed,” Winry scolded, though the heat in her eyes let him know she was more than willing.
“Then go work.” Edward pushed at her lightly. “You said ‘dessert later’.”
“You brat.” Her hip cocked, arms coming up to cross under her breasts, and shove them up - intentionally or not, it definitely caught Edward’s attention.
Snickering, Edward got up, too, giving her a kiss on the cheek. He grabbed the letter and his notepad. “Back to work,” he told her, guiding Winry to the house, thinking he really needed something to drink before he started packing.
Maybe even something stronger than coffee.
X X X
The train whistle blasted a warning, the engine hissing in preparation to leaving the station. “All aboard!” the conductor shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth.
Edward glanced over his shoulder at the passenger car, then back at Winry. “It’s time.”
“I know.” That didn’t mean Winry would let go of him so easily. Her arms tightened around his waist and she dug her chin into his shoulder.
Burying his nose in her hair, Edward inhaled deeply. She smelled so good. “I really need to get on the train.”
“Uh, huh.” Winry snuggled closer. “Try not to stay gone too long, all right?”
Edward squeezed her against him, kissing her temple. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. Leaving was different now; leaving her alone meant he would be without her to talk to over dinner, to argue with in the morning, to cuddle up with at night. “I’ll do my best,” he whispered in her ear. He kissed her cheek, then, when Winry raised her head, captured her mouth. His belly quivered when she retaliated by licking his lower lip. “You’re making it damned hard for me to leave,” Edward growled.
“That’s just to remind you to come home.” Grinning dangerously, Winry unlatched her arms from around him, stepping back.
Forced to adjust his coat so it covered his crotch, Edward whispered, “You’re cruel,” as he reached down to grab his suitcase.
“Come home soon, Ed!” Winry said, raising her hand in a wave.
Grumbling, Edward made a face at her that softened only somewhat as he climbed onto the passenger car. He pushed the window down, spotting Winry. Her hands clutched together, tight enough her knuckles seemed white, but she smiled brilliantly when she saw Edward. He waved as the whistle sounded twice. The train cars jerked, then began moving slowly forward. “I’ll be home before you know it!” he shouted, then wanted to slap himself in the head. How could he think of Rush Valley as home? Winry waved back, and Edward knew that was his answer - wherever she was, was home.
He watched as she receded on the platform, then the platform receded, and Edward settled back into his seat, knowing he was on his way. Sighing inwardly, he tried to loosen the tight band across his chest. He dug his journal out of his pocket, opening it to the marked page. A photograph of Winry smiled out at him, and Edward touched her chin with a light tap of his forefinger, then tucked the picture farther back in the journal. Though he’d read Alphonse’s letter so many times the day before he could almost recite it, he wanted to look at the notes he’d taken on yesterday’s letter, as well as the previous notes he’d made to the unusual transmutation circle.
At least it would keep him busy for part of the trip.
X X X
Chapters Two and Three
Author: evil_little_dog
Genre: Adventure/Romance
Rating: R
Word Count: Appx 19,600 (at present, as story is incomplete).
Characters/Pairings: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell, Paninya, Dr. Marcoh, Original Characters. Edward/Winry
Warnings: Post 108 fic.
Summary: The discovery of a transmutation circle in an ancient city leads to problems for Edward and Alphonse that no one would’ve ever suspected.
Disclaimer: Arakawa is completely the owner of this universe. This story is a derivative work, and as such, I make no money from it. Drat it all.
Thanks To: cornerofmadness and ishte for edits, and for elasg for her inspiring artwork!
Prologue
The past is still, for us, a place that is not safely settled.
Michael Ondaatje
Alphonse was accustomed to the sunlight back home, in Risembool, but here, in the high altitude hills at the borders of Xing and the Eastern Desert and Ishbal, the light seemed different. Diffuse, from the rarified air, maybe. Wiping his forehead on the back of his arm, he glanced up at the sun. He still had a few hours yet before he had to get back to Balaghat. The Ishbalans refused to sleep in the ancient, unnamed city here in the mountain, and Alphonse understood why. It wasn’t because of the threat of ghosts, but, having been abandoned for what appeared to be centuries, it would be dangerous to be in it at night. He’d sprung enough traps to realize whomever had created this city had left it to protect itself from intruders. The overgrowth from the jungle made it even harder to navigate the streets, much less avoid the traps.
“Mr. Alphonse!”
He turned at the sound of his name, waving his hand spade at the girl trotting toward him, a jug of water cradled in his hands. “Careful, Nesrah! Make sure to follow the path I cut out of the brush.”
She nodded, slowing her headlong pace and picking her way more slowly. Nesrah had been one of the children to locate the city; she and her siblings playing higher up in the foothills than the adults generally went, following the sheep and goats the Ishbalans raised. They’d been the ones who’d led the children into the city, and the children, in turn, led Alphonse and some of the other adults here. The Ishbalans decided they didn’t need to know more about the city, though there were no taboos to keep Alphonse, or the goats and sheep, and their shepherds, from exploring it.
Nesrah placed her bare feet carefully as she climbed up the stone steps, the rise much higher than comfortable even for an adult, to reach Alphonse. Handing him the jug, she turned, sitting down on a broken slab of granite and swinging her legs. She didn’t seem to realize how high up she was sitting, nor how far down the fall would be if she slipped. Alphonse kept his mouth closed. The children had been playing here for more years than he’d had his real body back. When he’d asked if any of them were afraid, they’d given him the same blank stares he was sure he and Ed had given adults asking the same stupid question when they were kids.
Taking a drink from the jug, Alphonse let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until he actually smelled the sweet, cool water. “Thank you, Nesrah.”
She dimpled, her ruby eyes squinting half-closed in her pleasure. “You’re welcome, Mr. Alphonse! Did you find anything new today?”
He took another drink and set the jug down, careful to make sure the rounded bottom was settled into a niche to keep the water from spilling out. The sandy desert made its own table, and the round-bottom jugs dug into the sand to remain upright. Here, in the highlands, amidst the rock and green growing things, the round-bottom jugs weren’t quite as practical. “A few beads,” he reached for the leather pouch he used to store the treasures he’d found. “Look.” Pulling out a golden bead, he passed it to Nesrah.
She let out an appreciative gasp, turning the bead over in her fingers. “It looks like a long-necked goat!”
“I think it’s a llama,” Alphonse told Nesrah as she handed the bead back. “They’re kind of like camels, I think, or maybe sheep.” He shrugged, he hadn’t really studied what sort of genus the llama were when he’d seen his first one, instead he’d been more amazed at how well they spit. Juggling the two additional beads, Alphonse offered them to Nesrah. One was a pendant, carved out of a blue stone shot with sparkles of gold pyrite. A baleful face glared out of either side. The pendant was different on each side, not quite mirror images; the other a cylindrical bead of gold, a tube with two indentations on either end. Nesrah studied them and returned them, and Alphonse dumped them carefully in the pouch again.
“What else do you think you’ll find, Mr. Alphonse?” Nesrah asked, practically dancing in place in her enthusiasm.
“I don’t know, Nesrah,” Alphonse had to say. “Maybe something totally amazing. Maybe just some more of these beads.”
Nesrah tucked her forefinger into the corner of her mouth, a scowl marring her forehead. Suddenly, she brightened, grabbing Alphonse’s wrist with her damp hand. “I can show you something! Get up, Mr. Alphonse!”
Groaning, Alphonse got to his feet, staggering for a second as the blood rushed back down to his lower extremities. “All right,” he said, “but remember, Nesrah, we need to be careful.”
“Mm!” She kept hold of him, though her hand slid down to clasp his as she led him along. Surefooted as one of the animals she might have shepherded around this site, she led him along down a narrow path between two large walls, one of natural stone, the other obviously built by human hands. Nesrah didn’t give Alphonse time to marvel, tugging at him whenever he tried to stop and look at something. “Come quickly, Mr. Alphonse, or you won’t see!”
He glanced skyward. The sun’s light had gone ruddy and the bowl of sky overhead changed from the clear blue of the day to more indigo and violet tones, indicating that dusk approached. They needed to leave the mountain soon or risk being stuck in the dead city overnight. “Where are you taking me, Nesrah?”
“Not much further,” she promised, giving him a bright grin and pointing toward the top of a hill. Scampering up it much like the goats she’d herded, she led a slower Alphonse to the top of the rise, standing on what had to be a man-made mound - he wasn’t sure just how he knew, but maybe Mei’s attempts to teach him about the Dragon’s Pulse had paid off in some way.
Blowing as he reached the top of the rise, Alphonse stopped to mop his forehead. The air was definitely thinner up here. It took a few seconds for him to catch his breath. Beside him, Nesrah danced from one foot to the other. “Look!”
Alphonse straightened, pressing his hands into the small of his back. As he followed Nesrah’s pointing finger, all the little nagging pains disappeared, and he sucked in a deep breath. “Nesrah,” he whispered, putting his hand on her head to try to get her to stay still. He wanted to drink it down, the sight in front of him, of a figure carved from stone. “Dad,” he whispered, eyes wide.
“What?”
“Shh, Nesrah.” Eyes raking over the figure, Alphonse decided it wasn’t really his father; the nose was even longer than Dad’s had been and the eyes were decidedly more narrow. His cheekbones were higher, too, and his chin weaker. Still, there was a resemblance, something that told Alphonse that the carving was of a Xerxian man. And, in relief above his head, a transmutation circle, and symbols Alphonse had only seen once before.
“Oh, wow,” he whispered. “Brother really needs to see this.” Grinning down at Nesrah, he said, “Thank you. Thank you for showing me this. Now,” he glanced toward the sky, “we really need to get off this mountain.”
X X X
Chapter One
It’s not what you find, it’s what you find out.
David Hurst Thoma
Edward would never willingly say he’d gotten used to Rush Valley, but it had definitely become accustomed to him and his idiosyncrasies. One of those included his reading habits - definitely peculiar, as Edward had a tendency to walk through Rush Valley with his nose in a book, somehow managing to avoid crashing into inanimate objects (people, horses and dogs were fair game, though, and got a mumbled apology that, while it didn’t necessarily seem heartfelt, did a lot to smooth his way as the eccentric scholar in the community).
He did the same when letters arrived addressed to him, giving them his full and utter attention as he walked through the streets, somehow managing to adroitly dodge venders and children running around him, some of them sporting automail, some not. If Edward caught wind of some delicious smell, he might stop and absently buy whatever food was being sold, but most of the times, he would wander from the post office back to the Rockbell Automail workshop, with the apartment he shared with his wife taking up the second and third floors. He’d walk through the shop, nodding absently at the customers, remember to say ‘hey’ to Winry, and head off either to the back courtyard - off limits to everyone but family and friends - or upstairs, depending on the weather.
Despite the fact that heat rose, and everyone in Rush Valley knew it, the apartment was usually cool in hot weather, what with Edward paying to install one of the new air coolers in the building. Winry had tinkered with it, making it even more efficient, and it kept the entire building at a good, even temperature during the hottest weather. Winry liked wood burning stoves - they reminded her of the fireplace back in Risembool - so Edward had paid for some top of the line soapstone stoves to heat the building. The thick walls helped keep the building both cool and warm, a typical Rush Valley design that Edward approved of, albeit grudgingly. All in all, their home was comfortable, despite being atop a smelly machine shop, and a good place for Edward to get his own work done - research, mostly; Xingese alkahestry, history, alchemy, Xerxesian studies.
The letter from Xing was a thick packet, the wax seal on the back scrubbed, but Edward was still able to spot the design Alphonse had designed for his personal ‘chop’ - some sort of Xingese thing that he’d never been able to really explain; or maybe Edward just wasn’t paying close enough attention - the flamel they’d both worn while traveling around Amestris. Edward would’ve recognized his brother’s handwriting regardless of the seal; Alphonse’s hand was fluid, and delicate, with perfect loops, while Edward’s handwriting remained scratchy, even though he now had his dominant hand back to write with. When he printed, it was clear, and Edward usually printed when doing research or notations, but writing letters was something else entirely. Winry had complained cheerfully that reading one of his letters was like trying to decipher an alchemy journal written in Cretan. Edward took that as a compliment, even though he knew she’d been teasing him. Alphonse’s letters, though, could easily be read, even if he and Edward did write in code to each other, both to keep their hands in and also to protect some of the more sensitive information they exchanged.
This was not a coded letter, though Edward wondered if maybe Alphonse should’ve sent it that way. Then again, the letter would’ve been even longer than the eight pages it already was - pages of notes as well as sketches, and Alphonse’s very excited ramblings. Edward grabbed a notepad of his own, taking it with him outside to the courtyard. A cat sunned itself on the table there, and Edward grumbled at it. Mrs. Lancaster’s stupid cat jumped the walls and pooped and pissed in the flowers, and he hadn’t figured out a way to keep the cat out of the courtyard yet. “Get out of here,” he said, waving at the big yellow tom, who glared back, the tip of his tail twitching. Setting down the letter and notepad, Edward picked up the cat - difficult, at best, as the tom seemed boneless and liquid when he carried it to the wall, and, standing on his toes, dropped the cat over the wall and onto the bench he knew was there, and helped the stupid cat get over the wall in the first place. Knowing the cat would be flipping him off with his tail didn’t endear the animal to Edward any more than him using his courtyard for his personal toilet, and he reminded himself he needed to talk to Mrs. Lancaster, again. Or maybe Winry and he should just break down and get a dog. A couple of yappy puppy attacks would probably keep the cat out of the courtyard, if Mrs. Lancaster couldn’t.
Heading back to the table, Edward settled in, tucking his pen between his teeth as he began reading again. Thoughts of the cat left his mind as he began dissecting each page of the letter, including the drawings. His focus trained on the words and illustrations, Edward didn’t notice when Winry came outside, pulling out the chair across from his and sitting down.
“Ed?”
He blinked at the sound of his name, somewhat startled and looking around defensively. “Winry!” His shoulders ached, and eyestrain made itself known now that he looked away from the pages. How long had he been sitting here? Glancing around with a wince at the pull of his muscles, Edward spotted the sun, farther to the west than it had been, obviously hours ago. Now that his attention was off the letter, his stomach growled, loud enough for him to hear it.
“Must be a good letter.” Winry laid her elbows on the table, crossing her arms. “You’ve been out here about four hours.”
“Al,” Edward said, gesturing with the pen. “He found out about something out in the desert.”
Cocking her head, Winry asked, “What kind of something?”
Edward turned the pages to her. “It looks like an ancient city.” As Winry picked up the pages and began skimming through them, he went on. “It’s really on the border of Xing and the Eastern Desert, a mountain in the foothills. I guess the Ishbalans could claim it if they wanted to, but.” He shrugged, tapping the notepad covered in script.
“Al thinks the city’s really ancient.” Winry peered at Edward over the pages.
“Yeah.” Edward grinned.
“Is there something older than Xerxes?” Winry studied one of the illustrations Alphonse had drawn.
“Hey, Xing’s old.”
She glanced up again, her eyebrows cocking up.
“A lot older than Amestris, at least.”
“Yeah.” Winry finished her cursory look at the letter, fanning the loose pages to raise a breeze before setting them down to reach for Edward’s notepad. “What’s this?”
The back of his neck heated up as Edward rubbed it. With a sheepish grin, he said, “Something’s not adding up.”
“Hmm?” Winry flipped through the pad. “What do you mean?”
Edward leaned across the table, taking the notepad and letter back. “There’s something about this place. Yeah, it’s covered in underbrush now, but look at this.” Scooting his chair around, he turned to a page in his notepad. “This is part of an ancient alchemy transmutation circle. I found documentation of this circle in a book in an old Western library. I’d never seen this kind of circle before. The book was ancient, I mean, so old, I wasn’t even allowed to touch it personally; a woman with gloves had to turn the pages for me.” Edward rolled his eyes at that, though a part of him understood how fragile the book was. “I couldn’t read it. She couldn’t even tell me what language it was in, just that a local alchemist had donated everything in his collection when he died, and the book was part of it. I copied a lot of it, at least the illustrations, but the language.” Shaking his head, Edward frowned in remembrance of how frustrating it had been, not being able to read the book.
“And?” Winry prompted.
“Sorry.” Edward tapped his pen on the transmutation circle again. “I’d only ever seen this circle there, in that book, but look.” Finding the right page of Alphonse’s letter, Edward set it next to his notepad. “They’re the same.”
Winry nodded slowly, turning to Edward. “But what kind of circle is it?”
Letting a slow hiss of air out between his teeth, Edward said, “I don’t know. And neither does Al.”
“Does he know about the one in the book?” Winry picked up the notepad again, even though alchemy still didn’t mean much to her.
“Yeah,” Edward nodded, “I sent it to him a while back.” He didn’t say he’d sent it encrypted, over three separate letters, not wanting someone else to see the circle and try to use it. At least until they’d figured out what the hell it was for. “We’ve been doing some research into it, but.” He shrugged, spreading his hands.
Winry laid the pad down again, turning to face Edward more fully. “So…Al’s asking for you.”
Edward nodded, his mouth twitching.
“You want to go.” It wasn’t a question.
“You have your master’s test.” It was coming up soon, too; only a couple of weeks away.
Winry shrugged, a twinkle in her eyes. “If you’re not here, I can get more work done.”
“Are you saying I’m a distraction?” Edward asked, arching his brows. Leaning back in his chair, he shifted his weight, all but posing for her.
Snorting, Winry said, “No, you’re always in my way and whining for something. ‘Winry, I want lunch. Come and rub my back.’” Her voice took on his deeper, brash tones, not a bad imitation, really. “‘I’ve got something you can polish.’”
It was Edward’s turn to snort. “I don’t sound like that,” he said, wondering if she’d laugh. She did, a bright chuckle that made Edward smile and lean toward her in response, blowing his pose. Reaching over, he took one of her hands. He rubbed his thumb over the familiar calluses on the inside of her palm. Winry grinned, tugging her hand reflexively - how her palm could be ticklish sometimes always amazed Edward. “I want to go to Balaghat.” At Winry’s knowing grin, he protested. “What can I say? I’m curious.”
“Okay.” Winry leaned over and kissed him. “Just don’t rush right out to the next train, okay? I’ve got supper cooking.”
Edward kissed her back, a bit more forcefully, letting go of her hand to lay his on her knees. “I’m not going anywhere today.”
“Good.” Her smile bloomed as she nuzzled his cheek. “I’d like a chance to say ‘goodbye’ properly, after all.”
“Mm, can’t wait,” Edward murmured, sliding his palm up her thigh.
Winry wagged a finger at him. “Ah, ah, ah. I’ve got some work to finish up, and then dinner. Dessert has to wait.”
Groaning, Edward leaned back in his chair, shifting his weight to adjust for the pressure his trousers put on his half-masted erection. “Fine, fine. You go get your work done and I’ll,” he glanced toward the third floor of their home, “I’ll go pack.”
With a laugh, Winry got to her feet. She stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers, her skin cool and perfumed with the smell of steel and the lightweight machine oil she used to maintain automail. No polish today. Edward preferred the way she smelled right out of a shower, floral and warm, but he couldn’t say that this scent, mixed with that particular essence that made up Winry, couldn’t arouse him, too. He nipped at the webbing between her thumb and first finger, letting go with a wicked grin. “I have work, Ed,” Winry scolded, though the heat in her eyes let him know she was more than willing.
“Then go work.” Edward pushed at her lightly. “You said ‘dessert later’.”
“You brat.” Her hip cocked, arms coming up to cross under her breasts, and shove them up - intentionally or not, it definitely caught Edward’s attention.
Snickering, Edward got up, too, giving her a kiss on the cheek. He grabbed the letter and his notepad. “Back to work,” he told her, guiding Winry to the house, thinking he really needed something to drink before he started packing.
Maybe even something stronger than coffee.
X X X
The train whistle blasted a warning, the engine hissing in preparation to leaving the station. “All aboard!” the conductor shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth.
Edward glanced over his shoulder at the passenger car, then back at Winry. “It’s time.”
“I know.” That didn’t mean Winry would let go of him so easily. Her arms tightened around his waist and she dug her chin into his shoulder.
Burying his nose in her hair, Edward inhaled deeply. She smelled so good. “I really need to get on the train.”
“Uh, huh.” Winry snuggled closer. “Try not to stay gone too long, all right?”
Edward squeezed her against him, kissing her temple. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. Leaving was different now; leaving her alone meant he would be without her to talk to over dinner, to argue with in the morning, to cuddle up with at night. “I’ll do my best,” he whispered in her ear. He kissed her cheek, then, when Winry raised her head, captured her mouth. His belly quivered when she retaliated by licking his lower lip. “You’re making it damned hard for me to leave,” Edward growled.
“That’s just to remind you to come home.” Grinning dangerously, Winry unlatched her arms from around him, stepping back.
Forced to adjust his coat so it covered his crotch, Edward whispered, “You’re cruel,” as he reached down to grab his suitcase.
“Come home soon, Ed!” Winry said, raising her hand in a wave.
Grumbling, Edward made a face at her that softened only somewhat as he climbed onto the passenger car. He pushed the window down, spotting Winry. Her hands clutched together, tight enough her knuckles seemed white, but she smiled brilliantly when she saw Edward. He waved as the whistle sounded twice. The train cars jerked, then began moving slowly forward. “I’ll be home before you know it!” he shouted, then wanted to slap himself in the head. How could he think of Rush Valley as home? Winry waved back, and Edward knew that was his answer - wherever she was, was home.
He watched as she receded on the platform, then the platform receded, and Edward settled back into his seat, knowing he was on his way. Sighing inwardly, he tried to loosen the tight band across his chest. He dug his journal out of his pocket, opening it to the marked page. A photograph of Winry smiled out at him, and Edward touched her chin with a light tap of his forefinger, then tucked the picture farther back in the journal. Though he’d read Alphonse’s letter so many times the day before he could almost recite it, he wanted to look at the notes he’d taken on yesterday’s letter, as well as the previous notes he’d made to the unusual transmutation circle.
At least it would keep him busy for part of the trip.
X X X
Chapters Two and Three