ORPHIC SHADOWS
a Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction
by W. Morganstern

CHAPTER ONE

Fullmetal Alchemist isn't mine, nor am I making any money from the following fanwork.

SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE SERIES ABOUND.

This doesn't take the movie into account, since I haven't seen it yet. It assumes that Edward and Alphonse were reunited, Al with his human body intact, on their side of the Gate.

"The threat from Creata will be significant five years from now when the new regime has snowballed into a military superpower with the resources of the entire Far West at its disposal. Take a look at our own very recent history," implored Brigadier General Mustang to the very solemn group of statesmen gathered around him. He sounded vaguely bored with his own point of view, which coming from him made his words sound more convincing. Even more so than his status as a highly decorated war hero, it was his jaded aristocratic air that allowed him to fit in with the other members of the Security Council.

Despite Roy's apparent ease, he was filled with dread after every word he spoke to these men. He would only know if he'd said the right thing when the right person made comment. It must be like that for everyone one of them, he realized. What a way to run a government.

"Our relations with the King of Creata have brought about many favorable outcomes for Amestris, not the least of which have been the indirect results of the very civil war that is making some of us nervous. The immigrants who inhabit the No Zone, their commerce, increased work force. They helped us rebuild Western Amestris," stated Lord Janus, the Council's presiding statesman. "We must not forget that Amestris is still recovering from changes in her own government and a long string of expensive wars. We must not do anything to provoke our neighbors."

Of course the irony of such prudent words was simply that they failed to produce prudent actions. But someone on the Council must have wanted a catalyst among their group or Roy Mustang wouldn't have been there at all.

"Which is precisely why we ought to gather intelligence far more extensively than we have done up until now. I concur with the Flame Alchemist that any potential threats must be nipped in the bud. We must elect a strategic committee to deal with this new challenge. What say you, Brigadier General? Do you have any recommendations?" asked General Hagen.

General Hagen, it seemed, still supported Roy firmly. Hagen was a bit of a war monger, but an influential one. Regardless of the man's personality and core ideals, having his support was not a bad thing at all.

Roy felt a tinge of excitement as he left the meeting. Not only had he become a respected member of the Security Council, but he also seemed to have acquired some influence over the opinions of several key aristocrats. This was more political power than he'd ever commanded before. He was tempted to bask in it, but his better instincts warned him to be wary of any power that he possessed. General Hagen, rather than invoking Roy's military rank, referred to him usually as "The Flame Alchemist," making it perfectly clear on what foundation stood his respect for Roy. Even the more sensible among these men favored fame over ability, such was the basis of their esteem for state alchemists.

Wariness didn't necessarily equal humility for Roy. A show of pompous egotism was a fabulous way to boost morale among his own loyal posse of subordinates. Well, except for Edward Elric, but only because Ed had his own shows of pompous egotism to manage. At least today Roy hoped that Ed could gloat with him. If only he could keep Ed from getting too infuriated by the news.

The younger state alchemist sat reading at a highly polished desk in one of the grander private rooms of the new library at Central City Headquarters. Though a pale shadow of its predecessor with regard to content, the new library provided a comfortable, quiet escape from the rest of HQ. Ed practically lived in the library. Normally Roy would have summoned his most decorated subordinate to speak with him officially, but he thought better of that. Over the past two years they had formed a friendship that Roy wanted to respect, even if it meant being somewhat unprofessional in this instance. Roy was off duty, in civilian garb. Ed was in uniform.

"Edward," said Roy, breaking the dead silence that always permeated the library in the early evening. "Excuse me, do you mind if I take a seat?" Ed nodded yes, too surprised to make a sarcastic remark just yet. He looked at Roy questioningly, yawned and stretched a bit. Who knew how long he'd been sitting there with that book. It was a particularly thick volume of particularly thick Ishbalan mystical literature, Roy noted. Untranslated. Ed was indulging himself in leisure activities on the job again, but Roy was too amused to be pissed off.

"Do you plan on putting together a detailed report on why a two thousand page poem written in Ancient Ishbalan is relevant to the state?" asked Roy. Ed smiled faintly before setting the book down with exaggerated reverence.

"Maybe," Ed answered. "I have a few theories, but I wouldn't want to bore you. So, what brings you here, Mr. Mustang? Did you forget your uniform in the library?"

Apparently Ed didn't miss much, as he was referring to a brief fling Roy had with a particularly attractive female librarian a few months ago.

"Yes, well, there's something that I wanted to tell you off the record, on my own time." He hadn't let down his guard this much in front of any man but Maes Hughes, and that was a long time ago. He hoped that he was doing the right thing. "Remember how you said that you'd rather die a thousand mutilating deaths than enter the field of politics?"

Thirteen years after first becoming a military dog, the only thing Edward Elric still hated more than the military was politics.

Ed blanched. "Wait a minute…"

"This is very, very important, Ed. There are signs that a Druidic faction in Creata, which seems to have recently seized power through the King, plans to mobilize against Amestris once they've finished stabilizing their own empire. The Security Council has agreed to finance an extensive intelligence operation, and I need people who I can trust to help guide it. What I mean to say is, you're one among few people who I trust completely and who has enough potential influence to help me protect our fragile progress. I've nominated you as a department leader."

That didn't seem to sit well.

"Just back the hell up. What is it you've dragged me into exactly? We both know that butt-kissing isn't one of my talents, so I'm not entirely sure what you're asking me for."

Roy laughed internally. Why had he been so worried about Ed's reaction? The boy was all steam and bark much of the time, and he'd mellowed a great deal since he returned from the other side of the Gate. Roy found himself being more concerned about Ed's feelings than his reactions.

"You won't have to do much butt-kissing. Just be glad that you're young and relatively low ranking. The position merely requires your problem-solving skills, willingness to take any manner of covert mission, and at the very least a cursory awareness of protocol. Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong and myself are also involved in this operation. It's somewhat large-scale, highly secret. Can I make it sound any more appealing to you?"

Roy hoped that he had made it sound a little appealing, anyway.

Whether or not it was actually appealing to Ed, he was grimacing and some color had returned to his face. He appeared to be thinking--either that or he had a wicked case of indigestion.

"You must have been worried that I wouldn't comply, that I'd drop my uniform and run naked through the desert to the East? Do I look like I have anything better to do than run around Creata poking for mercs and barbarian rebels?"

Ed sent the heavy Ishbalan volume sliding across the desk. This time Roy laughed out loud.

Chapter Two Coming Soon- Ed embarks on this journey alone.