Please enjoy. This doesn't really contain any spoilers so don't worry.
Written in Manga-verse, but it doesn't really matter.
The older woman chuckled, "Of course we are. I promised you, didn't I?"
Every year, a carnival came full of lively games and festive food, but until now, young Riza had never been allowed to go. Her mother had feared, that at the young age of four, she would be lost in the vivacious crowd. But at five years, Riza was a big girl. She knew how to add and subtract (her father had taught her) and could even read and write. She was no longer a little toddler.
The mother and daughter had a light-hearted day, no worries or concerns to dampen the fun. Going from stall to stall, experimenting with new foods from all over Amestris and beyond, Riza was bursting with energy and excitement. After filling her belly with snacks, the 5-year old was ready to move on to the carnival games.
Smiling gently, the older woman followed her daughter around dutifully, coin purse ready to indulge the child's every desire. If it guaranteed little Riza's happiness, financial concerns could be temporarily forgotten.
Curiosity filled her mind as she watched her daughter choose a game. It was a simple game of darts, the target having rings that corresponded to numerical values with the ultimate goal located in the very center, smaller than a single coin, worth 100 points. On her first try, Riza was able to hit the 60-point ring. While it was an extraordinary score for a child, Riza's mother could see that the child was clearly annoyed. Kneeling down to the same height of her daughter, the older woman spoke gently to the child.
"When aiming, first take a deep breath, then spot the target. Form a sight line, using either the tip of the dart or the second knuckle on your thumb and the target," She gently moved her daughter's right hand into place, "Lead with your elbow, making sure that it is pointing slightly up and at the dart board. Now aim directly at the target, and throw." Following her mother's directions exactly, Riza confidently threw the dart, not allowing her hand to shake at all and much to her delight (and the stall owner's surprise), she hit the target directly in the center.
The older woman smiled and congratulated her daughter as she picked out a large stuffed dog, but she was not surprised by her daughter's aim. On her side of the family, almost everyone had the capabilities of expert marksmen. Good eyes, excellent instincts, and steady hands. With practice, young Riza could easily exceed both her and her grandfather's abilities.
"Very good," The older woman spoke softly, so that the young girl didn't hear, "Train hard, my child. Steady hands and eyesight are good, but practice makes permanent." She watched as the child, still innocent and uncorrupted by the horrors of life, bounced up and down the path, stuffed dog in hand.
"Will you come with me next year?" Riza asked, her amber eyes, wide and pure, "I want to try that game again."
She chuckled at her daughter's antics, "Of course. I promise I will come here every year with you, as long as you want me to."
"Mama," Riza called out, "The carnival is here!" The eight-year old girl ran up to her mother, bursting with joy. Despite her fatigue after working around the house all day, the older woman still smiled and bent down to greet the excited child.
"That's wonderful," she straightened back up, "I suppose you want to go, correct?" Riza nodded. She had tried to subtle, but she wasn't going to lie. "Well, let me get cleaned up and we can go."
After her first carnival, Riza and her mother had gone to the carnival every year. It was one day that they could both be free of responsibility and have fun.
"Riza, when I was eight, I was allowed to play a special game at the carnival for the first time." The blond child looked at her mother attentively, anticipating what she had to say. "Let's get something to eat then I'll show you the stall."
As expected, the food was tasty and a nice break from the bland vegetables usually served in eastern Amestris. Even if the delicious treats weren't very healthy, it was a special day and acted as an exception to all usual habits.
"Follow me. Elizabeth," the girl looked up from her food – her mother never addressed her by her given name unless she was very serious, "This stall has a special game. Three years ago you threw a dart for the first time. Two years ago you shot your first arrow from a bow. Last year you used a water gun. This year you will use your first type of gun." At that, Riza was surprised. She knew that her mother used to be a skilled sharpshooter and that her grandfather worked in the Amestris military, but they had both been careful to keep her away from any sort of gun.
"This type of gun is not very powerful, nor very accurate, but it is still dangerous," the older woman was very serious; this was a lesson that Riza had to learn well, "There are a few things that you always must remember. Always act as if a gun is loaded. Always act as if the gun could go off at any time. Most importantly, always use your best judgment and instinct."
Riza did just as her mother said, following her every piece of advice. Sharpshooting was in her genes. And when the gun went off for the first time, despite the bang, her hands stayed steady.
"Mother, how are you today?" A tall thirteen-year old girl stood under a tree, the wind blowing through her hair softly. "He came today; father's new alchemy student. I don't want to like him. Why can't he teach me like you did?" Riza sat under the tree, looking at the gray stone.
"I know alchemy, and he had even admitted that I am fairly talented," her short blond hair blew in the wind, "But he is angry at your father. He is angry that your father works for the military that started the war. He is angry that I still see your father and visit him."
"I know why he won't teach me. He is afraid that I will support the military. He is afraid that I will sell his secrets," Riza laughed bitterly, standing up, "He should know better. He should realize that I hate the military's decisions just as much as he does."
"Mother, the carnival is in town. I thought you promised you would always come with me, every year."
Sand covered everything, the earth painted a dusty, tan color. The heat was suffocating, yet people still hustled around, rushing from post to post. Most structures had been destroyed, leaving mostly just rubble and broken remains of houses, yet still a few towers remained, scattered across the vast expanse of land. It was at the top of one of the towers that she lay, covered by a large hooded cloak.
She was completely covered along with a small box of ammunition at hand and powerful long-range sniper rifle. An amber eye looked through a scope, watching for any sign of danger. Panning slowly from east to west, a slight glint caught her eye.
Quickly adjusting her rifle, she spotted the metallic gleam of a ceremonial dagger poised to stab an Amestrian soldier. Relying on her training and instinct, Riza shot a single hole into the head of her target. She could almost hear the dagger clatter into the stone debris as the man collapsed back to the earth.
Later that night, back at the camp, she looked into the fire with weary eyes. The carnival would have been today, Mother, she looked up into the sky despite the smoke obstructing the stars, You said that this was a gift. That I had good eyesight. That I had sharp instincts. That I was blessed with steady hands.
Riza pulled her hood low over her face. No matter how many lives she took, her hands never shook.
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