Author's Note: Hello, comrades. I welcome you to "Master of the Night", my first attempt at fanfic writing. Any reviews will be welcome, but please make criticisms constructive, that is "You suck, this story sucks" and the like are not useful comments, unless with a "because.." and a reason why something sucks (for the record, I know this stroy isn't good, but I don't know why, and would like some help with dicerning the root for my writing's inherent awfulness).
As for the story itself; Yes, I play Vampire: the Masquerade, and have borrowed the words Tzimice and Methuselah from there (though I believe that White Wolf borrowed the word Methuselah from somewhere else, so I suppose its fair). They are used here only because I think they sound cool as words, and do not reflect white wolf's use of them (not totally; yes, Methuselah means ancient vamp in both white wolf and my terminology, but there are major differences which will become apparent as the story progresses).
Disclaimer: In the capitalist sense of the word, I do not own Full Metal Alchemist. I believe the word Tzimice is a registered trademark of White Wolf, but Iam convincedthere are enough differences between my Tzimice and their vampire clan to avoid any infringement. In any event, all law suits will be futile, sinceI have nothing.
Nighttime in Liore is a deceivingly quiet time. During the day, this town is a destination for many pilgrims, thanks to its local prophet and miracle worker, one Father Cornello. Cornello claimed to be a wonder worker sent by the Sun God, and word of his miraculous powers, powers which had surpassed the abilities of even the best alchemists, spread quickly. Holy seekers, skeptics, pilgrims, and the simply curious came to the small desert town to see these wonders for themselves. Many stayed in the town after witnessing these extraordinary acts. Surely, this man must be an emissary of God, as he said.
Two young boys were less impressed, however. Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and his brother, a soul bound to a suit of armor named Alphonse, didn't buy into the fat preacher's "miracles", and challenged him at every turn. On a quest for the sacred relic of the alchemist, the Philosopher's Stone, Ed and Al succeeded in proving Cornello as the fraud he was; not an emissary of God, but a pitiful pseudo-alchemist wielding a false Stone. After watching the false stone destroy Cornello, Ed and Al continued on their way, believing that their work had been done. But darker forces had other plans for the small town.
Cornello had returned. Of course, this was not the same man who had been the de facto leader of Liore. That man was truly dead, destroyed by the false Stone he had abused in life. This was a Homunculi, a soulless creature born of forbidden alchemy, using its power to impersonate the deceased "prophet of the Sun God". This creature and its associates still needed Liore, and its "prophet", for their own agenda, and would not allow the Fullmetal Alchemist to ruin their plotting so easily.
But there are things in the night, creatures forged from an even more alien darkness than the Homunculi. They are immortal, and have plans of their own. One such creature haunted the night of Liore. Had the Elrics not intervened, he would have ended the false prophet's life himself. He had hoped that the Elrics' had saved him some effort, but with the reemergence of the preacher, this creature of the night has once again begun to plot destruction, but this time not just of the preacher. To be sure, this new prophet is a bother to him, and he will deal with "Cornello" as he deals with all those who dare to trifle with him in his domain, but he will also deal with those who are in control of the preacher's rise. For he is Tzimece, the ancient master of Liore's quiet nights, an immortal observer and occasional participant of its mortal affairs, and vampire of the greatest power and age. He had seen alchemy's birth, had seen its growth. He knew of the Homunculi in a vague sort of way; they had never really bothered his affairs, so he never cared for these failures. But now they dared to cross his path, and no creature ever escapes the wrath of a true Methuselah.
"Brother, can I ask you something?" Alphonse Elric's soft, metallic voice sounded every bit like the innocent he had been before the accident which had claimed his true body.
"Sure, Al. What is it?" Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, youngest person to ever be given the silver watch of the State Alchemists, replied in a distracted sort of way. He was rather tired, and wanted to go to sleep in the soft bed he had rented for the night. But if his younger brother had something on his mind, Ed would force himself to listen. It was the least he could do, given what he had force Al to become.
"I was just thinking….about Liore. I wonder how they're doing without Cornello?" Al sighed. Though his metal body provided no means for the younger Elric to express his feelings facially, Ed could tell something else was bothering Al.
"I'm sure their doing a lot better without that bastard manipulating them all." Ed replied confidently.
"Yeah….but…." Al stopped again. Ed waited a moment for Al to continue, and when his brother failed to finish his thought, Ed got curious. His weariness began to fade away at the prospect of something bothering Al.
"Al, what is it? C'mon, you can tell me." Ed egged Al on.
"Well…I was thinking about Rose." Al paused a moment. Ed though about the name.
"Oh." He said when his mind a finally decided to work beyond the last shackles of half-sleep. "That girl who's boyfriend Cornello had promised to raise from the dead. What about her?" A thought struck Ed then and there, but he dismissed it. Al was to young to be thinking like that.
"Well, I wonder how she's dealing with the fact that her boyfriend is going to stay dead. I mean, she had been hoping Cornello would raise him, return him to her, and now that dream's been shattered. I wonder how she's coping…" Al finished, the last thought more an act of thinking out loud than anything.
Ed thought for a moment. He had been hoping to get back to Risembol, but decided he could visit the Rockbells later.
"Hey, Al." Ed began. Al turned his helmet with a little clunk. "Why don't we go to Liore and see how it's doing? You want to?"
Al nodded his head happily "That would be great, brother."
Pleased with himself for bringing a small bit of joy to Al, Ed turned back, feeling the demand for sleep returning in force. "We'll get the tickets tomorrow then. Good night, Al."
Al only half heard him. He was too excited. He had been bothered since they left Liore to its fate. Now he could put his worries to rest.
"Cornello" sat in his chamber at the heart of his grand temple. The day had gone well. The pilgrims were not deterred by the Fullmetal's actions. Rather, they felt more certain than ever that if a "demon" had come to impersonate Cornello, and had been struck down by God's hand, then clearly he was the Sun God's chosen.
"Be wary of deceit, young creature, least you begin to believe your own lies." a dark voice called from the shadows. "Cornello" turned sharply. He looked very hard, yet he saw nothing. It seemed as though the voice had been the shadows talking…no, that was ridiculous.
"Cornello" went to sit back down, but couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. He knew his fellow Homunculi were in the room next door, having come back to see how "Cornello" was holding up his part of the plan. But this felt like something…
"Sinister, perhaps?" the voice called again. This time "Cornello" leapt up from his chair.
Looking about frantically and still seeing nothing, "Cornello" yelled. "Who's there! Come out and face me like a man!"
A malevolent chuckling resounded across the room, deep and full of spite and mocking. Suddenly, "Cornello" felt his priest façade fade away, against his will. He returned to his normal form, a small, effeminate man with wild, green hair. "What the hell…?" he muttered, suddenly filled with dread.
"So, this is the true face of my prey." Envy, the Homunculi who had been impersonating Cornello since the late fraud's death, was still struggling to locate his apparent foe. Suddenly, a pair of glowing red eyes appeared in the shadows of the corner to his far left. From the shadows, slowly, the eyes lead out the form of a tall man in old-world aristocratic garb. The figure stood roughly six-foot-five and was very slim and pale. In fact, except for his glowing red eyes, his whole being seemed to lack color of any sort, an alabaster Envy had never seen before on a living creature.
Envy put on a smug smirk. "I don't know who you are or how you did what you did, but you just made a big mistake, pal, showing yourself and all. 'Cuz now, I can see you, and therefore, can kill you."
The pale face, which had been grinning darkly, only grinned bigger, showing wickedly pointed fangs. "Oh, is that a fact, creature? You truly believe you can kill me?" The same chuckle emerged from his throat. "I don't believe you understand what you now face. By all means, though, try and kill me. A spirited prey makes for a much more amusing kill, after all."
Envy lunged, his athletic ability quickly cutting the distance between himself and the odd intruder. Envy unleashed a massive roundhouse kick to the man's face, and followed up with several punches to his gut, and ended with an attempted uppercut. But Envy's hand was caught by the man. The figure's grip was like iron, and Envy could feel the bones in his hand breaking slowly. But what shocked the Homunculi more than the man's strength was the fact that he looked utterly un harmed by Envy's assault. Not so much as a single bruise appeared on his porcelain face, and the smirk remained, unchanged.
"My, is this all you have?" He taunted the homunculi he now held. His tightened his grip just a bit, and he was rewarded with the sound of Envy's hand crunching within his own. Envy cried out in pain. He chuckled again.
"I thought you said you were going to kill me? Did I hear you wrong, or are you just a weak little idiot?" Then he swatted Envy across the room, sending the little Homunculi flying without any apparent effort, as though he were striking a fly.
"D-Dammit." Envy gasped. "He's stronger than I thought." Just then, Envy noticed a shadow racing ahead of him. Envy didn't need to turn his head to know that the shadow had turned into the pale man.
Tzimece swung his hand down, slamming Envy down by the throat as the Homunculi flew. The impact shattered the stones of the floor. Envy just gasped. Then he felt himself being lifted, the hand clamping down on his neck.
"I must say, this has been rather disappointing, creature. "the pale man purred. "I had expected more from you." The hand grew tighter. Envy was rather sure he couldn't die from being strangled or having his neck broken, but he didn't rule out passing out as a possibility. And who knew what this…thing would do once the Homunculi lost consciousness. Envy didn't know precisely what kind of punishment he couldn't heal from, but he didn't doubt this guy would figure it out eventually.
The slamming of the chamber door announced the arrival of the other two Homunculi, Lust and Gluttony. Lust was beautiful women in a low-cut dress, and Gluttony was short, fat blob of a man with an enormous mouth filled with acid. The pale man noticed them, and flung Envy to his fellows.
"So, you are the creatures that have dared to play God in my domain." He stated flatly. "How good of you to come. You've saved me the trouble of coming after you later."
Tzimece studied his foes as he braced himself for combat. One Homunculi was barely worth his attentions, but three might prove…amusing. No, not worth the full extent of his power, not even half. But more than he'd needed in centuries. The little one already knew about his ability to will another's powers into disuse. Now he'd see some more impressive feats.
The flush of blood filled him. Oh, yes, tonight he would grant these fools a great blessing before he killed them; he'd demonstrate the kind of power the world hadn't seen in centuries. They would learn what kind of hell-on-earth a true vampire could unleash upon those who earned his ire. He grinned manically at the prospect, as the power of his undead blood began to fill the air.
"What ever gods you believe in ,creatures, I suggest you start praying." He growled, his face a mix of bestial rage and unholy joy.