The sea of masks, an ocean of glittering teeth and jewels. So many colors; red as blood, blue as the midmorning sky, deep forest green; all shrouded in shadow. The light was so bright, so vivid, so hot. It beamed down directly on his bare skin, searing it until he thought he may go up in flames. His shoulders already screamed in pain, his arms bound at the wrists behind his back, pulling the muscles in a position hardly natural and highly uncomfortable. His legs felt like heavy dead things beneath him, he hadn't been allowed to stand in hours.

He was a golden canary in a gilded bird cage. A light shot down from somewhere above, illuminating only a small circle of his immediate area. He bit at the gag that had been shoved between his teeth maybe an hour ago. His skin was covered with a random scattering of bruises and blood leaked and crusted in a few choice spots. The young man turned his head as something was caught in his peripheral vision, a flitting of an image, unidentifiable at the given time. As his eyes adjusted to the world beyond his bubble of harsh light, a booming voice called out loudly:

"And what of this fine one: a boy of fifteen years, rugged, a bit short, but a lovely face, no?"

Edward looked back to the sea of masks as mutters broke from their smiling mouths and crashed against his eardrums like a wave, all nonsensical voices melding together in some senseless jamble that had no true meaning or purpose. His mind was as numb as his legs, unable to compute even the negligible of emotion or meaning. His situation was almost unnoticed, his poor, exhausted mind incapable of distinguishing what any of this meant.

The booming voice continued, no apparent pity for the boy in its entire being, only cruelty with an undertone of avarice. "Yes, a fine one indeed! No parents to worry about, none at all. A good muscular build, he'll be a strong one! But, I must say, I'd rather have him work the front door than the fields with a face like that."

The wash of voices was louder this time, punctuated by shouts... Shouts of numbers... Bids...

"Brother!"

That single cry jerked Edward from his numbness, all the pain and emotion rushing back in one fell swoop. It all dawned on him in a single millisecond, his entire situation finally clear to him. It nearly crippled him; the pain, shock, and pure panic. He searched for the voice wildly, surely it had truly been there, it couldn't have been his imagination.

"Brother! Brother!"

Edward swung his face to the left, and his heart stopped. There, on the stage with him, lying only a few feet away in his own cage, was his little brother.

"Alphonse!" His cry was muffled and distorted into unintelligible grunts by the gag. It hardly sounded like the English language.

At the sight of his younger brother, Edward threw himself at the bars of his cage, rattling the gilded bars. The sound was harsh and jarring, and it hurt his eardrums. He jerked and strained at the manacles circling his wrists, cold, sharp metal pressing cruelly into his skin. His legs, still without feeling, buckled at his every attempt to stand. Again and again he smacked into the floor, but again and again he struggled and cried out for his brother.

A loud shout broke through the panic in Edward's mind. For a moment he was numb again, but then shapes moved toward his brother's cage; dark, sinister shadows that threatened his brother's safety. Edward shouted himself hoarse through the gag, trying in vain to scare the attackers away. Panic and horror were the only things he could feel, and those two emotions pounded through him relentlessly.

"How'd he get the gag off?"

"Just shut 'im up already, this is starting to look bad..."

The voices murmured at the sudden hush of shock. That sea of masks looked on at the performance onstage with awe and amusement. Such a show! What brotherly devotion! The strength of such a bond! How absolutely moving! They tittered behind their fans, masked eyes crinkled in delight. It was exactly the kind of thing they adored tearing apart, just the thing they found elation in destroying. The anguish of others! How amusing!

Edward watched with growing horror as his brother's cage was opened and the boy was ripped from the container by rough fingers yanking by the boy's short hair. Alphonse cried out but was swiftly slapped across the cheek by that unrelenting hand.

Edward was screaming and thrashing, blood from his wrists made his hands slippery and he found less purchase than he could have managed before. All he could think was that he needed to get to Alphonse, needed to save Alphonse, needed desperately to get Alphonse as far away from this place as possible. Then someone suddenly shook his cage violently, shocking him into stillness. Looking up at the offending hand, he followed the black-gloved fingers up the tailored sleeve to the person's face. The wideness of the fine bone structures were strange and distinct, as well as the hooked nose and small, beady black eyes. The man smiled, showing unnaturally sharp teeth.

"As you can see, his mannerisms leave a bit to be desired! But still a worthy piece." This was the owner of the booming voice.

The bids that came were not nearly as enthusiastic as the previous. After all, who wanted to go through the trouble of training civility into a slave? Such a bother. Quite troublesome should he be a stubborn one. The final bid was a measly nine hundred pounds.

Edward wondered idly if that was really only how much his life was worth. Surely his humanity should cost more? His individuality? But he really hadn't had much to begin with. Perhaps it made sense that his life should be worth so little. He was such a small, infinitesimal thing after all. In the grand scheme of things, he was an ant. Nothing more than a tiny drone that did nothing but serve its purpose as a drone. In the grander scheme of things, he suspected, he wasn't even worth that much.

He listened to the exchange of finalizing words deafly, no longer affected by the events of this world. Everything that was said or done to him slipped off him like water on glass. Until he looked back at his brother, a bruise on his pale cheek, his golden brown eyes streaming helpless tears.

Now that all his horror and panic was gone, Edward felt himself filled with an incredible sorrow at the sight of those tears.

AN: Okay...that was kinda short... Your opinion matters immensely! I haven't written anything in a while... I'm a bit rusty... Criticisms welcome... But be gentle with me! Q_Q

So, this is gonna be an odd one, if I do say so myself. It's taking place in London during the 18th century, which isn't really obvious with the first chapter. I took a lot of inspiration for this scene from Black Butler. [Guilty as charged! T^T] This is an EdxWinry fic! [don't kill me!] So this chapter was all Ed! Next one is all Winry! Let's see how this train wreck turns out, ne?

Disclaimer [little late]: I don't own Ed. Q^Q Sadly. He's Hiromu Arakawa's.