TO BE KING: END OF INNOCENCE
Summary: Ishval was not a place where you were broken in for your new job. It was a place where even adults cried like toddlers. What would happen when a fifteen-year-old alchemist was thrown into this mess? A prequel to TBK.
A/N: The one-shot I promised in chapter 7 of my fic "To Be King" is here! This primarily deals with how Roy and Rei met and might be pivotal for the chapters that follow in the main fic.
I will be updating "To Be King" too, within a couple of hours.
This one-shot is dedicated to all those fans who have loved Rei Alstenheim...consider it a sneak preview to her way of alchemy.
And to those who are just stumbling onto this fic for the first time, fear not! You don't need to read TBK to understand this-after all, it is the prequel. But if you like it, do give TBK a shot! *shameless self-advertising*
Read and Review!
Roy Mustang gripped his arms to stop himself shaking but it was a futile attempt. His obsidian eyes which formerly used to hold a burning fire were now devoid of life. The roughness of his gloves sometimes brushed over the skin exposed through the tears of his uniform, the gloves which burned many unnamed individuals alive.
He shuddered again, trying to block out the screams.
It was not yet sunrise and his tent was dark save a solitary lamp burning dimly a couple of feet away. He could hear Hughes snore away gently—as if he had just flopped into bed after a long, hard, normal day at office, not from some hellish waezone.
But then, Hughes was not an alchemist, he was just a soldier. Not a mass murderer like him. He killed to save himself—it was an act of defence. He stood a fair chance of landing on the other side of the table.
Not like him, whose one snap could reduce life to rubble.
He tossed about again—it was the third straight day he couldn't sleep. The bags underneath his eyes were growing and bigger and darker and if Hughes noticed his sleeplessness, he didn't point it out.
Finally giving up on slumber, he sat up. His jacket and shirt were singed at places where he had lost control of his flames earlier in the day—and he made no effort to change his outfit.
He felt tainted.
He stared at his gloved hands.
One flick and he could burn himself to death. And this nightmare would be over.
No more burning towns...no more killing children...that thought seemed more tempting by the passing second.
Just then, a pair of tired russet eyes and a mop of blonde hair swam into his vision.
Yeah, his conscience said with heavy sarcasm. Leave her alone too while you are at it.
He groaned softly.
Life was unfair.
He stepped out of the tent, as Hughes mumbled something on the lines of I love you, Gracia.
He couldn't help but crack a smile at that—at least someone was sane in this hellhole.
He walked about the sea of tents. Apart from the night guards patrolling silently, greeting him with a dip of head when they passed by him, all was quiet.
He decided to go to the hillock behind the well—it was the highest place in the vicinity which offered a good view of the sunrise.
As he trekked up and drew nearer to the well, he heard some loud splashing. He grew curious, breaking into a light jog.
"Got to clean it, got to clean it..."
He stopped once he reached closer to the well. Someone was reeling in a bucket and then splashing it all over their arms.
He drew closer to the figure.
As the first rays of sunlight broke through the sky and illuminating the vistas, Roy looked shell-shocked.
The figure was a tall, gangly looking girl with long jet-black hair held up in a high pony tail. She did not look much older than fifteen. Her amber eyes were burning feverishly as she tried to wash something away from her hands which looked squeaky clean to him.
"Got to clean it, got to clean it..." she kept on muttering under her breath.
Roy stepped forward cautiously, trying not to startle her.
"Excuse me...but what are you doing?" he asked in a low voice.
She jumped, before looking up to him.
Roy knew that expression quite well...the dangerous mix of despair, anger, self-loathing...
She stood up straight, showing him her hands.
"My hands are dirty. So I am cleaning them," she said clearly.
A voice hollow and devoid of emotion, yet it sounded perfectly normal.
"They are clean enough, don't you think?" Roy pointed out. The tan skin peeking out of the rolled sleeves looked like they have been scrubbed within an inch of their lives.
She shook her head.
"No...they are not..." she whispered softly, looking at the sun all set to rise.
Roy looked at her, worry clear on his face. What were the military higher-ups thinking, sending a child to this hell?
"With which unit are you attached? Who's the alchemist leading your unit?" he asked. Maybe he could have a word or two with her superior and perhaps convince them to let her go home. He couldn't save everyone, but maybe he could save her. And cleanse a minuscule portion of his guilt.
The rebellion was no place for her now.
"Unit 49," she said, turning to face him. "I am the State Alchemist who is leading that unit."
Roy took an unconscious step back.
She gave a hollow laugh at his reaction.
"Surprised you, right? I am the youngest candidate to ever clear the exam. I am Major Rei Alstenheim, the Dancing Alchemist."
He couldn't get over his shock—the military not only sent a child but the child was an alchemist?
"How?" he managed to whisper.
She sat down on a rock, staring at the sun.
"You know the Directive 3066, the one to terminate and purge Ishval. All State Alchemists worth their salt were pulled to the front lines—including me. You are the Flame Alchemist, right? Then I don't need to tell you the rest."
Her eyes hardened as unwanted memories passed in front of her mind's eye.
"Yesterday...it was terrible. Our unit was assigned section 94-A, ordered to eliminate totally. In a way, I envy you. Your style of alchemy doesn't make you come face to face with the ones you kill—they remain nameless and faceless to you. But mine is more...hands-on. I stepped in..."
Rei frowned as she studied the plan in front of her.
"You are in charge of this building. Complete elimination, no questions asked," barked her superior, pointing a rectangular block with his forefinger. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
The quartet of soldiers protecting her back didn't look much older than her, and one of them looked close enough to pee in his pants. She shook her head as she moved forward, cursing the war.
She took out the slips of papers from her pocket. They were inscribed in a variety of transmutation circles. She put them up on the walls as she walked deeper into the building, her ears perked up to catch any unusual disturbance. As she pasted the last slip on the wall, she thought she heard people breathing behind the rickety door a few steps ahead.
She stepped ahead.
And opened the door.
And found at least fifty children of varying ages, looking frightened. And at least twenty-five rifles pointed to her face.
Her body moved before her brain could instruct it. The last transmutation circle was slapped onto the wall, blue alchemical energy crackling out and breathing life into the other circles through out the building.
The building cracked before getting consumed in flames.
Rei could hear the children screaming. She stood at the door, a vacuum barrier protecting her from the flames. The last circle fluttered in her hand.
The flames cleared a little, allowing her to see clearly the scene in front of her.
A pile of writhing bodies lay in the room, blood dripping from various cut and burns. She could not differentiate whose limbs belonged to whom, the way they were entangled.
Three kids stood in front of the pile, rifles held clumsily in their shaking hands. She knew instantly that they had never held a rifle before in their lives.
The circle beckoned to her.
The last step of her attack.
One of them was a girl no older than eleven. She was almost the same size as the rifle she was holding, her red eyes wide and round with fear.
Rei felt her hands tremble.
Then she heard the unmistakable click of the safety catch being withdrawn.
Wildly, she slammed the paper on the floor. Blue energy surged through the floor.
When she looked up, she saw the kids impaled on spikes that rose up from the floor, their faces forever frozen in that look of terror and despair.
Roy looked away, understanding exactly what she felt.
"I am sorry," he whispered.
She shrugged, a painful smile etched on her tired face.
"Don't be, Flame Alchemist," she said, looking at the horizon. Roy saw tears sliding down her cheeks, knowing that nothing he said could stop them.
N.A.Z.R.A.T.H.
A week later when his unit was slated to return, a messenger came running to their camp.
"UNIT 49 IS ON THE VERGE OF BEING WIPED OUT!" he managed to gasp before collapsing on the ground. The medical team quickly took him away for first aid.
"Unit 49? Weren't they in the southern sector? That was supposed to be an easy target," Hughes grumbled, disappointed that they wouldn't be leaving for Central as planned.
Roy frowned as their unit began to march south. Wasn't that kid in that unit?
"What happened Roy? You look tensed," Hughes said, shouldering his bag into a more comfortable position.
"That kid I told you about, remember? Rei Alstenheim? She's in that unit," he muttered.
Hughes looked a bit shocked.
"I hope she's okay," he said slowly. Roy grunted in response.
Not another child...please not another child!
The sight that greeted them after two hours was not a reassuring one. The entire town of Gashier, the target of Unit 49, looked like pillars of stone rising on the fields of flame. This looked worse than the times he set things on fire.
His commanding officer barked out orders, ordering the troops to scatter and find any survivors if possible.
"Hey Roy, is she a Flame Alchemist too?" Hughes asked as the two of them rushed towards a burning building.
"No," he grunted. "She is called the Dancing Alchemist."
Hughes looked a bit flabbergasted at the title but chose not to comment on it at the moment.
"Then the fire? Where did it come from?" he asked, trying to make himself heard over the sudden roar of flames that erupted out of a building just inches away from them.
"I don't know exactly," Roy yelled back. "But I think it has got to do something with instantaneous combustion of sulphur in the air."
Hughes tuned out the technical jargon, focussing instead to find a telltale figure of a cornered alchemist.
Suddenly he caught sight of a figure with long black hair...jumping around on the terrace.
"Um Roy...is that..." he began, pointing at the figure currently performing somersaults.
Roy squinted before nodding in agreement.
"Yes, that is her."
The duo sped towards the house, Roy slipping on his ignition glove as Hughes undid the safety catch of his gun. The structure was barely standing and Roy's sharp eyes caught signs of tattered paper floating around along with the dust.
So this is Alstenheim's alchemy, he mused.
They carefully climbed the stairs, knowing that a single misstep would result in them plummeting to their deaths. Soon, they reached the scene of action.
Alstenheim was standing in the centre, blood dripping from her right shoulder on the initially white floor as she clutched a slip of paper between her index and forefinger. Roy could faintly make out a transmutation circle drawn on it. Five well-built Ishvalans, each equipped with a rifle surrounded her, their weapons pointed at her. They didn't notice the addition to the party.
But Alstenheim did.
Roy noticed her hand in which she had the transmutation circle paper...she deftly switched it with the ease of a magician expert in card tricks.
She changed her circle, he realised.
Hughes looked at him for instruction, his gun ready to fire.
Roy stared in those amber eyes. She stared back, and lightly shifted her irises to her left. Roy looked to his right—her left—and saw the military taking positions.
He nodded, ready to snap his fingers.
A small smile curved up her lips.
With a loud battle cry, she threw the card on to the rifle of the assailant who stood in front of her, making it explode. In the commotion, Roy snapped his fingers, creating another wave of flames more lethal than the previous ones. He dragged Hughes and jumped down his right—only to get his foot caught by a strong, unyielding grip. Hughes tumbled onto the tarpaulin roof two storeys below, looking up at Roy in dismay.
"JOIN THE TROOPS! I WILL FOLLOW YOU," Roy yelled, hitting the man's fist in an attempt to escape.
"Even if I die today, I won't let you live, Flame Alchemist!" the man roared, immune to the sparks generated by him. As the smoke cleared, Roy saw a savage smirk dancing on his face. In his other hand was a canteen.
Filled to the brim with water.
Roy paled. Oh God...this can't be happening!
The man doused Roy's gloves, making them useless. He then pulled him up and threw him across the floor. Roy cursed the fact that he wasn't carrying a gun on his person.
Four men lay on the ground, three looked knocked out and one was writhing in pain; he was the one whose rifle exploded.
"So Flame Alchemist, how does it feel to be on the other side of the equation?" the man began, loading his rifle and pointing it at the centre of Roy's head.
Roy stared back, his obsidian eyes reflecting the residual flames that still danced in corners of the terrace. Alstenheim was no where to be seen.
"If you want to shoot me, then do it," he said through gritted teeth.
"With pleasure, you dog!" he said, licking his lips and was about to pull the trigger...
"Lieutenant Colonel...DUCK!"
He saw a black-blue blur race past him and plant a transmutation circle card right on the Ishvalan's face.
"Forgive me..." she said quietly.
A loud bang, loud enough to almost tear Roy's eardrums, and a shockwave strong enough to throw him off the feet occurred.
As he scrambled up on to a sitting position, he saw the Ishvalan lying on the floor...without a head. Alstenheim sank to her knees, her shoulders shaking violently.
"Oh God...I murdered him! I am freaking murderer..." she said frantically, hugging herself. Roy realised she was rinsed in blood from top-to-toe. He crawled towards her on his knees, and not knwowing what to do, he draped an arm across her shaking shoulders.
"Hey...it was either him or me. You made your choice. But you know it as well as I do, one of us was going to die," said Roy softly, guiding her up on her feet and pushing her gently towards the stairs.
He heard thundering footsteps only to see Hughes followed closely by Dr. Marcoh.
"She doesn't look much injured," Roy said. "But she is currently terrified."
Dr. Marcoh shook his head as he took in the sight.
"What has the world come to, when we send children to kill?" he asked as he walked to the kneeling alchemist...who presently looked just like a child dressing up as soldier in a fancy dress party.
Roy looked at the doctor, unable to answer the question that had been plaguing him since the day he first met her by the well.
N.A.Z.R.A.T.H
The day they reached Central was a bright and sunny one, as if mocking the darkness their hearts carried.
Roy stood on the platform, unsure what to do or where to do. He didn't have a girlfriend like Hughes nor did he have family like the others. As he contemplated his options, he saw another figure as lonely as himself.
It was Alstenheim.
She was out of her military blues and was just clad in a black pullover sweatshirt with blue jeans and combat boots. Her right arm was in a sling and a white bandage went around her forehead, her left hand carrying a medium sized duffel bag.
At first glance, she looked like a girl home from boarding school. But if one looked into her eyes, they would realize that the echoing sadness, despair and frustration that swam in them couldn't be brought about by the worst of homework. The eyes were of someone who had been to hell and stayed alive to tell the tale.
He walked up to her.
"I didn't get to thank you for saving my life," he said, tapping her shoulder to get her attention.
She turned around, her strung up aura infinitesimally relaxing at the sight of him.
"None needed, anyone would have done what I did. I don't leave my comrades behind, Lieutenant Colonel. Nor do I forsake the ones who come to rescue me, even though they end up needing to get saved," she said slowly. A ghost of a smile played on her lips.
Roy relaxed a little at that look—maybe, all was not lost.
"So, where you would be going now?" he asked, slightly curious.
"I have been promoted to Colonel now, and have been transferred to the West City," she said in a slightly smug voice.
"Well, then I guess congratulations are in order, Colonel," he smirked.
She grinned back.
"Looks like the higher-ups were impressed by me saving your ass, Lieutenant Colonel," she said, a lightness creeping in her voice.
"I am waiting for my connecting train to Pendleton, that's where I live," she added.
Roy nodded understandingly.
"I see. And I think I should go and freshen up. After all, I too have to report to my Commanding Officer in East City within two days," he said, a finality in his tone.
"So I guess we part ways here, Flame Alchemist," she said, smiling slightly.
Roy smiled back. He held out a hand.
"But I am the one who is going to be Fuhrer," he challenged.
She looked up to him, life returning to her eyes as she shook the proffered hand.
"Let's see...it's a race, Lieutenant Colonel," she smirked.
"Oh yes, it is. A race I fully intend to win at all costs."
A/N: Did you like it? Then do write down something in that super-helpful box below...I love it when you guys review. It's like I am on the seventh heaven of Elysium itself!
Check out the update on TBK I am going to roll out with a couple of hours...see you there!
Till next time, folks!
~Nazrath