Chapter One:
Training
Drenched with sweat, palms sweaty and legs shaking, the young, dark-haired alchemist collapsed on the floor, panting hard from all of the extremely difficult training he had just gone through. His dark piercing eyes started to water, due to the salty sweat pouring into them, causing him to cry a little. He couldn't help crying, for he was only the age of nine, but he couldn't cry in front of his alchemist teacher, or he would be punished for "being so weak" as his teacher would call it. The small first-degree burns on his hands and face were also no help to how this young boy was feeling. Wiping the sweat as well as the tears from his eyes, he could feel the shadow and presence of his strict alchemy teacher looming over him. The young alchemist looked up to meet the harsh green-eyed gaze of his teacher, Berthold Hawkeye.
"Are you crying?"exclaimed Berthold as he looked at his young apprentice. The training today seemed much harder than normal, so the scolding didn't do much help to the boys mixed emotions.
The boy didn't know how to respond, but instead continued staring into the eyes of his mentor. He knew he had to admit to his "weakness"of crying eventually, but he didn't want to be scolded or punished so harshly for doing so. Berthold switched positions, motioning his patience was growing smaller and smaller waiting for the answer from his apprentice.
"Well?"questioned Berthold again, getting very upset with the boy's lack of tolerance for such harsh training. "What's the answer? It sure looked like you were crying to me, but I want you to tell me. Were you crying or not?"
Knowing that the longer he sat there, procrastinating his answer, the more painful the punishment would be.
"Y-Yes, master Hawkeye. I was," replied the dark-haired apprentice. He looked down at his knees, and nearly started to cry again.
"I don't believe this,"continued the mentor, his anger obviously rising to dangerous levels. "I've had enough with this weakness of yours! You're parent's died, therefore you had to live with your aunt before she went to jail, and now you're living with me, because you wanted me to teach you alchemy. What am I going to do with you?"
Remembering the painful thoughts of his terrible foster mother, his aunt Chris, scared him even more. It was even worse when the memories of his loving mother and wonderful, caring father entered his mind, and he could no longer contain his trapped emotions. Tears began flowing down his cheeks, and streamed onto his lap.
"That's it!" screamed Berthold. "I've had it with you!"
The young alchemist was now extremely terrified, and his terror even grew worse when his mentor grabbed his upper arm and yanked him up to his feet. He knew what was coming, and it would sting even worse with the fresh burns still placed upon his baby-faced visage. He felt the strong, huge, muscular hand strike him across the face, knocking him to the cold and damp ground. Sorrowful and painful tears had now soaked his shirt around the front of his neck, and the apprentice continued to lay there, knowing if he got up, he would be punished for "refusal against punishments."
"We'll start training again in two days at sunset. I won't be here tomorrow; I'll be in a important meeting with a very important alchemist, and I can't miss this opportunity to become important as well,"explained Berthold, now a little calmer since he had dealt with his "problem."
The young boy laid there until the footsteps of his alchemy teacher had faded away down the hall. Once they had disappeared, he attempted to get up, but failing, instead crawled a little ways across the floor and leaned himself against a stoned wall that was closest to him.
What did I ever do wrong? He thought to himself, letting all of his emotions take over his entire body. He wanted to cry some more, but he had been completely drained and was simply to exhausted to shed another single tear. On top of that, his legs hurt too bad that he felt like he couldn't walk, let alone stand. There was no way he was going to make the trip to his comfy bed.
Almost asleep, the young alchemist heard a scuffling of small footsteps behind where we was placed leaning against a wall, earning all of his attention. No longer tired, he turned to see his mentor's six-year-old daughter with dirty blonde hair, staring at him. Her cheeks were a bright red, as if she had been crying for almost what it seems like an hour. Her hands were covering her quivering mouth, and started to let loose of her tears once again, obviously very upset about something. As if she couldn't stand staring into is eyes any longer, she raced towards her father's apprentice and knelt at his side.
"I saw the whole thing, Roy!"she sobbed, gazing into her friends eyes. "I can't believe he pushed you that far! And when you started crying, I knew my father was going to slap you, and I wanted to rush to you and stop him, but I couldn't for some reason. My fears of you being hurt scared me too much, it didn't allow my feet to move a single step! I started to cry even harder when I realized you had so many burns on your hands and face from trying to learn that cursed Flame Alchemy, and he hurt you again anyways! I'm so sorry I wasn't able to do anything!"
Roy didn't know how to respond to his friend's confessions of how horrible she felt watching the entire scene unfold right before very eyes. He hadn't even known she had been present for some of his daily training courses. He knew how she felt about Flame Alchemy, and that it was very dangerous as well as a complicated alchemy to learn. Roy also knew that there was no way he would ever give up Flame Alchemy, for he wanted to help people someday, somewhere. Knowing this was difficult for his best friend to understand, he delicately seized her hand in his, and gazed into her eyes.
"Riza, don't worry about me. I appreciate you wanting to help, but if you do, you'll end up getting hurt as well," explained Roy. It was hard saying this to his best friend, especially when he secretly desired for her help, but knowing protecting her was his main priority right now. "I'll be fine, believe me. You are my best friend, and I know you will always be there for me."
Riza looked up to meet her best friend's kind and warm eyes. Her warmly-colored dark hazelnut brown eyes appeared to be locked into his piercing black eyes, and she couldn't look away. She had known Roy Mustang for only eight months, and yet he was her best and closest friend.
"And I promise, that I will always be there for you"continued Roy.
For only being nine years old, Roy Mustang seemed like such a wise, mature and caring person. Riza couldn't help but blush a little, and she knew that her friend would keep this promise.
"Come on, Roy, I'll help you to your bed,"Riza offered.
Doing his best to stand on his feet on his own, Roy walked to his bed, with the support of his ultimate friend. He knew that his promise he had just made to Riza, and he would keep it forever, for nothing, not even her father's cruelty and harshness, could tear them apart.
