Letters From Ishval

by Monster-Hats

A personal account from a survivor of the horror of watching their people forced into genocide during the Ishvalan War. -I do not own anything from this story except characters outside of the realm of the FullMetal Alchemist Brotherhood and the writing. There may be violence and ideological sensitive material within the story. This is all fictional-based.-

1. Letters from Ishval - Day 1

Have you ever suffered loss, having everything taken from you in a blink of an eye, maybe two? Have you ever watched your family taken from you, forced into something awful, even things worse than death? Well, if you haven't, you wouldn't understand. If you hate stories about death, war, and violence, you better stop reading this now. There's no going back from the horrors I've experienced. You have no idea what I went through.

My name is Simeon Vandalhenne.

I'm an Ishvalan. You know, dark skin, white hair, red eyes, the whole nine yards. If you haven't heard of us, that's understandable. We're an endangered race. Ever since That Day, our population went from 2 million to only a couple thousand. You'll understand in a moment how the numbers dropped so rapidly. It all happened a while ago, which will be recounted in a series of letters I wrote my Uncle Metar'nehm. It all began when I was twelve years old, just beginning to understand what went down That Day…

DAY 1

Dear Uncle Metar'nehm,

How's life in your new village? Have you found work? I know it might be hard for you, considering our race. But don't worry. You'll get a job eventually. Mother and Father have been praying every day for you since you'd left. I prayed with them, too. I miss you, Uncle.

Anyway, life here in Ishval has gone as usual, except for today for some reason. A bunch of our people have been carrying guns in the streets, and mother and father are having me sleep in their room. I think there's invaders or something, who knows. Also saw a couple of Amestrian soldiers ride in. Today has been, well, let's just say off. Tomorrow will be better, though. I know it will be.

Oh, and have you heard? A little girl from our village was shot yesterday. I was so sad, 'cause I knew her. She was that neighbor girl who would make those awesome seed cakes, remember? I just hope her parents are taking it okay. Strange coincidence that her death and this weird sudden upgrade in security would happen, hm?

Well, I'll have to draw this letter to a close. Mother is calling.

Love your nephew, Simeon