Crash! Bang!
"Yo, Roy! Mind helping me run a few errands!" Maes burst open through his office doors.
Roy didn't even bother to be surprised or upset at the disturbance. Not any more. It wasn't worth the hassle. He looked over the paper work already in his hand and gave his necessary signature on the indicated line at the bottom of the page. There were at least thirty to forty more like the one in his hand sitting towards the left side of his desk.
"Can you not see I'm busy enough as it is?" He put the signed paper to his right and shook his hand as if he was trying to get rid of the aching feeling stemming his wrists all the way to his knuckles. That was only the tenth paper he signed off on and his hand was already starting to hurt.
"Come on! It'll only take a few minutes." Maes continued to goad him on from the doorway.
"Your version of a few minutes is a lot different from my own. If I don't get this stuff down, Hawkeye will have my ass served on plate."
"Your lieutenant is that strict with you, uh?"
Roy cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and leaned into his chair. He folded his hands behind his neck, just to relax for a few minutes.
"Sometimes. But she's usually the one saving my ass so I suppose it's hers to serve on a platter if she wants." He laughed.
"You really want to be stuck here doing paperwork?"
Roy sighed. "Not really."
"Then how do you feel about coming with me to the train station?"
Roy turned to Maes and returned to the correct seated position in his armchair. "What's at the train station? And if you say it's your beloved fiancee, you can forget it."
"What? No, I'm surprised at you, Roy. Is that all you think I talk about?"
"Yes," it went without saying really.
"Well, can I help it if she's the most amazing, most beautiful woman in the world!" Maes gushed. One could almost see the dancing hearts and glitter flying around the man desperately in love.
"What's at the train station, Maes?" Curiosity was getting to Roy, and usually he tried to keep his nose clean of other people's business. Couldn't get to the top of the food chain if his current superiors thought he was a busy-body.
Maes stopped fantasizing about his soon-to-be-wife to come back down to earth and deliver his message.
"The Immigration Bureau has picked up a few more coming from Irie, that tiny island way out west. One of them is coming today. Unfortunately, they're short handed today. Half of their staff has caught the flu. They've asked little old me to go out and fetch the new comer myself."
"And?" Roy looked at the stack of paperwork. Part of him wanted to go, but there was a stinging sense of responsibility pricking him in the gut. Even though he didn't like it, and it really hurt him to even think it, but there were things in life that you just have to sit down and do. "How important could this one man be?"
"The government wouldn't be sending a special escort for some common immigrant. According to the Immigration Bureau, this new comer is an alchemist, and not your run-of-the-mill kind either. This guy's got training, certifications, and awards out the wazoo."
"Okay. Is that it?"
"Did I mention that this alchemist is also a woman? And supposedly she's a pretty one too, if her copied photograph she sent to the bureau is accurate."
Roy was already out of the door. "Let's go."
"Be sure to watch your head, ma'am," the conductor kindly advised.
Enda nodded politely. "Thank you, sir." She pushed the cart in which her baggage rested so that she could carry it through the city, her cane tucked under her arm.
As warned, she ducked her head as she passed under the train car's door frame. Admittedly, she could see the passersby and families looking for departing passengers. She grinned awkwardly knowing full well that her abnormal height, exactly six feet tall, was the reason they were staring. Enda moved along. Her shoulders were aching but not as bad as her knee in her right leg. There, up ahead of her, was a spare bench. The crowd brushed past her, even got in her way a few times. She pushed past the pain that was stemming from her heel all the way up to her hip. Beads of sweat ran down and stung her eyes. She didn't get a chance to wipe them until she had secured herself a little respite on the bench. With the cart kept close to her, she stretched out her leg, rubbing around the knee, under the calf, and the ankle. She half-groaned, half-sighed as she rubbed the sore muscles and bones. Only after a while of this did she slowly relax back into the bench.
Her hat was tipped over her eyes. Just a little nap. She traveled this far, one little nap wouldn't hurt anybody. She had barely closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of train whistles, the jostling of folks boarding and exiting the trains, and clip-clop of human feet like soldiers in marching regiment.
The sound reminded her of...
No, her thought was loud enough that she almost spoke out loud what was on her mind. I won't think about that. And she forced herself not to remember.
It wasn't a few minutes had passed when her eyelids drooped all the way down when she heard a pair of boots stomping their way towards her. Two gentlemen, she could barely make out to what they were saying over the crowds around them, were fast approaching. Disturbed, she reached for her passport and other official papers. Nothing was cleared yet but by the looks of things back home, she was staying here for good. Enda lifted her cap above her brows with her thumb just in time to see two men in blue uniforms. The first thing she noticed was their dark hair. Her mother often warned her against speaking to men with black hair. They brought nothing but bad luck, so she'd say.
"Can I help ya fine gents?" She hoped that her accent wasn't too thick.
One slapped the other in the chest with the back of his hand.
"See, Roy. I told you she was pretty." This one grinned madly at his comrade, who unlike him was cleanly shaven.
"Hello," the second man, Roy, offered his hand.
Cautiously, Enda took it, to be cordial.
"How do you do?" She replied.
"Can I see your papers, please?" Roy asked, releasing her hand.
His partner pulled him aside and spoke rather sternly. "Is that any way to talk to a lady?"
"We were told that an immigrant from Irie was coming arriving today. Judging by the looks of her and the accent, I'd say we found her. I'm just following protocol."
"You could have said it more politely." His companion hissed.
"I said 'please.'"
Enda cleared her throat. She withdrew her passport and official papers, all neatly bound in a leather booklet wrapped with a strip of more leather about its girth. Roy took the booklet from her, glaring at his partner. He untied the knot quickly, looked over the information, and handed the booklet back to her. While she retied the leather strip, the military man, Roy, took it upon himself to get comfortable in the seat next to her. Her nose scrunched up. This was what her mother warned her about. Enda scooted away as far as she could without falling off.
"What brings you to, Amestris, Miss Enda Samhain?" He seemed charming enough, but he didn't count on the fact that she didn't fall for traps like that.
She sighed, irritated already. "It's pronounced sow-in. You said sam-hane."
Roy smiled, taking the criticism with grace. "Duly noted."
"Do you always ask for Irie immigrants' personal information or did ye find somethin' interestin' bout me in me passport?"
"We like to get to know people who are talented in alchemy. Your country produces a lot of skilled alchemists," Roy answered.
Enda smirked with pride. "Aye, ye be right on the marker. We do have a few alchemists runnin' bout the place as it seems. I'm a practitioner me-self."
"So I've been told." He flipped through her passport, noting the many countries, big and small, she had seen. "You've been to all of these places?"
Enda nodded her head. "Aye, every last one of them. But I believed it was time for me to settle down. Plant some roots. Figured that since Amestris was a-crawlin' with alchemists such as me-self, why not plant some here?"
Maes and Mustang exchanged looks. Sons and Daughters of the Isle of Irie, as they called themselves, were flocking to Amestris but no matter how many times they were interviewed, the immigrants came up with one unique reply: the energy was different here. Nobody in immigration or the census department knew what they were talking about. Out of all the places this new one could have 'planted her roots,' why Amestris of all places? There weren't other countries that could use alchemists the likes of her? Not that is particularly mattered.
"We'll be escorting you to the immigration offices, Miss Edna. If you don't mind?" Maes smiled broadly.
Edna leaned against her cane, preparing to stand up. She did slowly and winced as she bent her right leg ever so slightly. Roy shot up to help her, thinking that she may have broken her leg or twisted her ankle before arriving. However, he was stopped short when he saw just how tall she was. His jaw and that of Maes' almost hit the floor. Enda must have been just as tall as General Armstrong, though nowhere near as big muscular. Certainly athletic, but mostly on the thin side.
"You are very tall." Roy pointed out the obvious.
Enda chuckled. "I'm a descendant of the race of the Celts. They were known to be very tall. When the first invaders came to Irie, they thought me ancestors were giants."
"I can see why." Maes was still in astonishment. He shook himself. "Where do you plan to stay the night?"
"A hotel will suit me just fine, sir."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded. "I've slept in worse places."
"Don't we have to escort her to the Immigration Bureau?" Asked Roy.
"Oh, right," said Maes as if he had forgotten why they had come all this way to begin with. "If you would let us lead the way Miss Edna..."
"Enda," she corrected. "And you know, I was just thinkin' I'd find me own way there. It's not like I've never been to Amestris before."
"Are you being sarcastic?"
"No." She chuckled.
Maes clapped her on the back, laughing with her. Only, Enda wasn't laughing for long. As soon as Maes' hand clapped her sharply on the back, she was leaning heavily on her cane and hissing in pain. She was visibly grinding her teeth. Jumping back, Maes tried to apologize.
"Are you okay?" Asked Roy.
It took her several moments to respond. Her breathing was inhaled and exhaled sharply through her nose.
"I'll be just fine in a wee bit." Several minutes later she straightened herself up so that she was standing even straighter than before. It was as if she was saying that she wasn't in any pain.
"Do you need help with anything?"
"If one of ye gents mind pushing my luggage, I don't think I'd complain." She pointed with her cane to the cart overflowing with her luggage.
"Hughes, why don't you do the favors?"
"Me?"
"Aren't you the one who clapped her on the back that she nearly fell over?"
"I didn't mean to!"
"Gents!" She managed to quite them both. "It's not that big of a deal. Just irritated an old scar of mine."
Enda adjusted the scarf around her neck and pulled at the collar of her white shirt. A fiery red scar etched deeply into her flesh marred the side of her throat to her jaw and ear lobe. They assumed there was more.
"A factory accident left this side of me neck and shoulders badly burned. Though, I should be so lucky. Some kids end up with their fingers missin'." There was an edge of sadness in Enda's tone.
"Well," Maes started awkwardly. "We'd...better get going."