Edward Elric, Prince of Red. He wore the color of his kingdom proudly on his back in the form of a blood-red trench-coat. He was the ruler of an evil kingdom no one dared face, despite only being fifteen.

Edward had a servant boy, Alphonse, that strongly resembled him, and the two were very close. Alphonse was the closest he'd ever had to a friend or a brother, in fact.

Edward was a determined prince. He'd claimed the treasures of the world as his own, and was determined it be so. No one dared contradict him, so he kept accumulating wealth in his treasury.

Now, there were several neighboring kingdoms. The nearest one to his palace, the Yellow Kingdom, was home to the beautiful Princess of Yellow, Winry Rockbell. Edward loved this girl, and felt she felt the same for him.

One day, after his usual trip to the border the Red country shared with the Yellow country, Edward came riding home on Xavier, his horse. He didn't seem to be too happy. He looked as though he'd been crying. His eyes were red, and there were wet spots on his coat.

"Something wrong, Edward?" Alphonse asked, ready to calm the prince as was his duty.

The prince was silent. He dismounted and handed Alphonse Xavier's reins. But instead of going to his chamber as he normally did, he drifted into the stables after the servant.

As Alphonse closed the door on Xavier's stall, he turned to the prince. "What's wrong?" he asked gently.

"Winry..." Edward said sadly. "She..."

"Is something wrong with the Yellow Princess? Did she fall ill?"

"No... She doesn't... She doesn't love me..."

"Oh!" Alphonse wasn't feigning sympathy, and the royal youngster knew that. The servant was truly sorry for him.

"I went to her today with a marriage proposal, and she turned me down... She said she loved the Prince of the neighboring country, the Orange Prince, Jean Havoc!"

He broke down, falling into Alphonse's arms. "There, there. It'll be alright. Don't cry." Alphonse told him, patting his back and holding him tightly.

The young servant led his lord back to his chambers, carefully removing the prince's riding clothes and tucking him in. He reassured Edward that everything would be better in the morning, that he shouldn't cry.

Next morning, Edward gave Alphonse an unusual order. "Come with me to see my councilor, Alphonse!" he snapped.

Alphonse bowed, obeying his master.

The councilor, Envy, was normally kept in a cage. He was in charge of just about all the things that Prince Edward ordered. But his favorite things to carry out were the execution orders and writing up declarations of war. Envy wasn't the kindest man, so he normally relished in Edward's orders.

Envy cracked open one red eye. Seeing that it was the prince, he stood and bowed before sitting back down. "Yes, Highness?" he asked in his silky tone. "How may I be of assistance this time?"

"I have a declaration to make." Edward said softly, his face cast down to the stoney floor.

Envy stood, walking closer to the metal bars of his cage-door. Edward also came close. In a soft voice not meant to be heard, he ordered, "See that the Orange Country is badly stirred."

Envy grinned widely as his cage-door swung open. "With pleasure!" he bowed before running out the door and up the stairs.

"B-But my Lord!" Alphonse objected, his eyes full of horror.

"Silence! That is how it is. I have given the order, and I cannot withdraw it." Edward growled.

"Of course you can! This is not going to solve anything!"

"Silence!"

Neither of them expected the blow. Hand open, Edward had struck Alphonse across the face. Alphonse held his face, eyes confused and hurt. Edward looked at his own hand almost fearfully, then sadly up at his servant, his eyes also confused, yet also angry. He turned away. "I'm sorry. But you should remember your place, Alphonse." he said curtly. "Come." he ordered, walking away, in the general direction of the throne-room.

"Yessir." Alphonse said sadly, following obediently after him.

The war was long and bloody. But the Yellow Country's army was large and powerful, and they prevailed over the much smaller Orange Kingdom's army. Even so, with every man of the Orange Kingdom slain, Edward was still unhappy. Because of this, he ordered his tax-collectors to be more brutal, his prison-wardens to be crueler, and his patrolling soldiers to be stricter. The people were out-raged. If he had been at least fair before, but now... Now the Prince was cruel, truly evil.

The utter hatred of the people had been building up for years, but now their anger was at it's peak. The were at the breaking point.

Then, the breaking-point.

When a man couldn't pay his taxes, he was taken to one of the prisons, flogged, and locked up. That broke the people's small patience. Now came the rebels, rising up to the status of community leaders. They were powerful icons in the people's eyes.

Alphonse knew this. But he wasn't prepared for the next event.

He was out running an errand for Edward. On the way there, all he got was dirty looks. On the way back, there were also sneers and leering. One person was even so bold as to throw a rock at him. He flinched, but the fist-sized stone grazed down the side of his face, leaving a long scratch. He ignored the pain and continued on. He knew he'd suffer worse if he showed discomfort or fear. Half-way back to the palace, someone grabbed his arm. "You, boy, you're the Prince's personal servant?"

He turned and gazed into the eyes of a dark-skinned man. He had silver hair and wore dark glasses. Behind him was a young woman in a cloak. Her hood was up, concealing most of her features, but her furious blue eyes glared out at him. "Y-yes." he nodded fearfully, swallowing. "Why? Is there something I can help you with?"

"I pity you. You're such a kind boy, yet you're enslaved to that tyrant!" the woman said, anger lacing her words.

"No! He's really just a small child once you get to know him! I've been raised with him my entire life! He's more than a master to me, he's my friend!" he objected, trying to yank his arm away from the man, but his grip was far too strong.

"Well, you tell your master that the revolution is coming. We will not rest until he falls from his corrupt throne!" the man growled. He shoved Alphonse away, making him stumble and fall.

Bravely, he stood up and walked on, not letting his fear show. He was terrified, but he couldn't let it show. If he let his fear show, they'd only hurt him.

When he got to the palace, Prince Edward wrapped his arms around the servant boy. "Alphonse! You're covered in dirt! And you're hurt!"

"It's nothing, my lord, just a scratch..."

"Tell me who did this to you! The murderous little rebel will be duly punished!"

"My lord! A man, one in dark glasses, he gave me a message. He said that the revolution is starting, and that they will not rest until you fall from your throne!" he said urgently.

Edward's eyes narrowed, and he stopped his raging. "Go to the royal doctor. Have him clean that up." he ordered, clearly thinking.

But within a few weeks, the man's threat came true. An angry mob swarmed the castle. All of the staff fled except for Alphonse. Despite the servant boy's urging, the young prince refused to flee. There was a loud pounding on the door. "Edward! Please, run!" Alphonse begged, falling to his knees.

"This is my country, my castle! Why should I flee?" Edward shot back.

The door was slammed open, and the man stood in front of the small angered group. The Son of Vengeance, as he was called, walked over to the Prince, ignoring the small servant. He held a sword to the boy's throat. "You've lost, tyrant." the man said.

"You despicable man!" Edward snarled.

His execution was to take place two weeks later at three o' clock. On the planned day, the bells ticking away his seconds sounded lame to him. He sat in the small cell he was kept in and sighed. The door creaked open. He blearily cracked one eye open.

"You have a visitor." said his warden. He opened the cell-door, and a small hooded figure came in. "Call me when you're ready to leave."

"Yes."

He knew that voice. He waited until the warden had left, then got up and hugged the servant boy. "Alphonse, what are you doing here?" he hissed.

"Quick! switch clothes!" Alphonse ordered.

After five minutes, the warden heard the boy call. He let him out, not noticing any difference.

At three, the boy in the cell was dragged out and to the execution-block. He looked out over the crowd and picked out one face. Looking at that face, he smiled and said, "Oh, look! It's time for tea!"

The ax swung down, and the one cry of despair was lost in the cheers of the crowd.