SECRETS OF AN ALCHEMIST'S HEART
Myrte Mustang sighed, she was in no mood for her brother's rash comments. "Listen Myrte! You seem to want to follow in Dad's footsteps. First you got state certification, then they decide to send you off to WAR! Please, just resign while your still sane." Hughes Mustang was her younger brother and the more rational of the two. Myrte rounded on her brother, "What! You mean to say that I'm going to go insane?! Dad turned out just fine after the Ishvalan Civil War!" She opened the door to her room and slammed it in his face.
The nerve of him! Me go insane, HA! I'll prove to them all that I can take war better than any other. She looked around her room and began pulling books from the shelf, most were leather bound and very old. She carefully placed them in her suitcase atop the clothing and other necessities. She left most of the older more delicate books on the shelf, she couldn't risk losing priceless Alchemy books on a battle field.
She closed the suitcase and looked around at her room, a shiver went down her spine this could be her last time to ever stand in this room, she might never come back from battle. She shook her head vigorously. I will come back just fine! Her brother was probably outside in the hall waiting to escort her to the train. She opened the door and looked around. Sure enough he was sitting on the floor next to the door his head resting against the wall.
He immediately stood up and ran a hand through his yellow blonde hair. Myrte smiled at him, "Are you ready to go?" She asked, her eyes giving him a silent apology. He nodded and they went down the hall, hoping that this would not be their last time together. As they walked Myrte thought about her parents, the famous Roy and Riza Mustang. Everyone told her she looked just like her parents, with her jet black hair and chocolate brown irises. She was a perfect mix of both her parents, she had gained her father's thin solemn eyes, and she kept her long hair up much like her mother had.
Her parents lived in a quiet house, just the two of them. It was in the country away from Central and so many awful memories. There they lived a peaceful life, occasionally hearing from the Elric Brothers. She was the oldest and of course had the tougher more prominent features of her parents, her attitude was hard and mysterious, she usually never let anyone see her true emotions. She had taken to flame alchemy like a fish to water and was an excellent shot with a gun. Yes she was every bit as stubborn and loyal as her parents.
Hughes on the other hand had acquired the less known attributes, his hair was blonde and his irises the deep black, but he had the soft more innocent looking eyes of his mother. He didn't care much for alchemy or guns, he preferred a calmer lifestyle. He had refused to enlist in the military and let his true emotions flow to every person he met. People had sometimes teased that he was not at all a member of the Mustang family except that he looked just like his parents. But then someone in the family had to be soft, more friendly and kind.
The two stopped at the train station and watched as the train pulled up screeching to a stop at the platform, many other soldiers milled about all dressed in brand new uniforms with over-starched collars. She herself had been given a new uniform for the trip to the east. Hughes suddenly wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace. She reluctantly returned it, inwardly grateful for her brother's affection.
The conductor began yelling for the passengers to board and Hughes released her, his eyes wet and glassy. "Good-bye sis." he said forcing his lips to smile. She lifted her right hand in farewell as she turned to board the train. She had twirled around hurriedly hoping her brother would not see the single tear rolling down her cheek. It was the only sign of the sorrow and fear she was being torn apart by. The rest of her countenance was sure and confident, fearless as she took her seat in passenger car.
Hughes stood on the platform trying to regain his composure, he had just barely caught the glimmer of sunlight of his sister's single tear. It had warmed him, she really did have feelings. With her it was sometimes hard to know how she felt about something. He watched the train pull away and was embarrassed to find he was surrounded by women and girls who had come to see their husbands and boyfriends off. With a quick step he hurried off the platform and back into the city.
He sighed, Central just wouldn't be the same without Colonel Myrte Mustang.
Meanwhile, his sister sat in a crowded car with other soldiers, most were ranked above her or just bellow. Myrte didn't talk, she just stared out the window a determined look on her face. Somehow she was going to have to keep herself well disciplined, she had heard the horrors of the Ishvalan Civil War and knew that she would have to keep her wits about her.
Fortunately she would only be used when the situation was too dangerous or got out of hand. The people of Xing had gotten greedy and were on the attack, who would have thought that they would attack their neighbors so suddenly? Myrte didn't like it. She had heard the tales of the Homunculi that her father and the Elric Brothers had fought and destroyed.
For some reason she could only see another crazy madman alchemist at the heart of this developing problem. Yes she would definitely have to keep her wits about her, how else would she survive. Yet the most troubling of thoughts on her mind at the moment was whether she would have to kill innocent people or would she be able to fight enemy soldiers only? There was no way she could live with herself after killing innocent women and children.
Someone's shadow fell over her and she looked up slowly. There above her was the towering hulk of a man known as the Strong Arm Alchemist II. He was the first son born to Alex Louise Armstrong, a good comrade of her father's. He smiled at her, "You must be the Flaming Soul Alchemist?" He asked while offering her his hand. She nodded and shook his hand, trying to remember his name his grip hurt he definitely was an Armstrong. Alas she couldn't pull it up.
He sat down on the empty space next to her, forcing her to scoot closer to the window then she preferred. "Are you ready for this?" his question was whispered just loud enough for her ears. "Of course I am!" She snapped back, her pride slightly bruised. "Good because I think this will be much worse then Ishval."
Myrte turned to stare at him in amazement, "And just what makes you think that Major?" She asked her whisper slightly higher then it should have been. The Major sighed quietly, "Because we are dealing with a people much larger than the Ishvalans. Xing is a huge country rich in tradition and culture, Princes will throw themselves into the war heart and soul to gain the Emperor's favor. No this will be much worse believe me Colonel." Without another word the big man stood and left as silently as he had come.
Myrte rubbed her neck, he was right, this was going to be one bloody war! The rest of the trip was quiet and uneventful, the Major's words echoed in her head until she fell sleep in her seat.
She awoke seated on the train her back against the window and her legs spread across the whole length of the bench. As she sat up the train stopped, it's brakes squealing noisily. She stood with everyone else, praying that the war would be short. Once she had gotten off, the Major took place at her side as they walked. Hundreds of soldiers milled about, a large makeshift building had been constructed of the salvageable remains of the outpost. Rows of tents stood behind the tracks, with more soldiers about. All high-ranking officers were required to take part in a meeting. Here they would be told the full extent of their duties on the field and what was happening.
The room was full of officers and State Alchemists alike, the two squeezed in just as General Thompson took his place on a raised platform. His graying brown hair was short, and he waited a moment scanning over the faces in the room. His green eyes gleamed with a solemn strength, almost a challenge to those in the room. His deep rough voice suddenly broke the awkward silence. "My fellow officers, I regret that we find ourselves in the midst of a fresh war. It has not yet been thirty years since we first stood on the battlefield against our neighbors the Ishvalan people. Now we face a greater threat! The people of Xing have made it their goal to destroy us. But we must not allow that. Country men I am saddened to say that you will be on the battlefield, fighting for your homeland." He paused for emphasis and then continued the grave undertone in his voice gave way to a hard fearless voice that could have been mistaken for a lion's roar.
"The enemy has attacked our outposts along the Eastern border, we received telephone reports that Xing soldiers were approaching them. Every Eastern outpost was destroyed at the exact same moment. The soldiers stationed here had no chance, we lost seventy brave men. Spies tell us that the enemy's camp is several miles east of our location. They had been amassing thousands of troops months before the attack. This was a thoroughly planned and organized move against us.
We have been given permission to use whatever means are necessary to protect our land. This sudden aggression has led us to believe Xing is not our only enemy. We have reinforced the outposts along every border. We at the moment are in a defensive position, we will not strike Xing unless they attack first. There is no need to continue a war if there is the slightest chance to avoid it. For now we are to watch and wait. All officers ranked lt. colonel and higher are required to stay and receive orders." he stepped down slowly, as a hushed murmur filled the silence.
The Major turned to Myrte and inclined his head as he left the room. When the lower-ranking officers had finally left, the room was half empty. Those remaining came forward standing around the platform awaiting orders. One by one the officers were called into a smaller room closing the door behind them, the names were called in order of highest rank to lowest. It was some time before Myrte was called in.
She took a deep breath and strode forward through the door, closing it with her foot, never taking her eyes from Thompson. She saluted him before taking the empty seat. "Colonel Mustang, you will be assigned to the remains of the outpost just north of here. Your duty is watch and listen. If your men are attacked then you are granted leave to retaliate in any way that suits you. We are counting on every man to do what is required. If you find yourself in engaged with the enemy report here immediately. Because you are State certified you will only be assigned one other Alchemist, Major Alex Armstrong the second. Here is your pass, and a list of soldiers assigned to you. You leave tomorrow and will travel by car. The new wilderness models prove to be our best transportation devices at the moment." He dismissed her and she left the building, hoping to find the Major.
Fortunately he was helping to load supplies into the transport vehicles. They were a brand new design allowed for a lighter body, with a stronger frame and larger wheels. They were rather bulky but they could traverse terrain that the street cars were unable to get through. She came up to the truck and began to help unload the supplies as well. When they were through she turned to the Major.
"Well, looks like I have you as a subordinate." She kept her face stiff, she was strictly talking business. The big man nodded, "May I ask where we are being stationed Sir?" She nodded, "Just north of here, we are taking over the remnants of an outpost." He asked no further questions and Myrte left him, she had some other things to do. Her regiment was awaiting their new commander.
She searched the rows of dull brown tents for her regiment's number. She read each sign carefully, she had been assigned the ninth regiment from the second division. They were all from East City and New Optain she paused over the last few names on her list. The last four soldiers were from Lior. She shrugged, as long as they cooperated she didn't care where they were from.
She found the proper group of tents and found the one reserved for her, they had already set it up. Myrte hurriedly shoved her suitcase inside and looked around. Several younger men were sitting on stones and talking with each other. One of them glanced over at her tent and froze when he saw her. He whispered something to the others and they all turned their heads to look at her.
Myrte strode over, her face a mask of seriousness. They all stood up slamming their heals together as they saluted her. She returned the salute and then inspected their uniforms, "Alright, names please!" The first man spoke up in shaky voice, "Frank Gavin!"
"Archer Falman!"
"Karl Fuery!"
"John Breda!"
Myrte nearly laughed, but she wanted to keep up a strict countenance. "Falman, Fuery and Breda! Please come with me!" She turned on her heals and walked out of the tent zone, where there were few people about. All three men followed slowly wondering why she wanted them, was something wrong? The Colonel stopped short whirling to face them. They flinched back in surprise as she gave them a harsh glare before speaking, "Falman, your father's first name wouldn't happen to be Vato?"
Falman nodded slowly unable to figure out why she needed to know, although she looked somewhat familiar. "Fuery, are you the son of Kain?" After another nod, she turned to the last man, who was catching on. "Sir, I am the son of Heymans Breda!" Myrte's eyes flashed and she turned her back to them.
"Do any of you know who I am?" She asked harshly, hoping that one of them was smart enough. Breda answered, "You are the daughter of Roy Mustang!" He announced with a slight bit of pride in his voice. Myrte nodded, "Yes now return to your friend, you know what I'll want." They left her alone hurrying back to their makeshift chairs.
Myrte Mustang returned to her own tent, happy to find some men she was sure she could trust. She rifled through one of her alchemy books, board and still uneasy. She was not afraid of leading a whole regiment, she was scared of making her father's mistakes on the battlefield. There was no need for senseless killing, what good would it do?
Dinner was served early, every soldier needed their rest. Myrte went into her tent, too excited to sleep. She had lost some of her uneasiness knowing that she had familiar comrades with her. The night was too silent for her nervous mind to relax. The Colonel was having some regrets, perhaps her brother had been right. What have I done? Maybe I should have listened to Hughes. But her heart told her it was the right thing to do. With heart and mind in the middle of a civil war she was not getting any sleep on this night.
A sudden sound made her jump, she listened forcing her breathing to be silent. Footsteps? It sounded as though someone were walking right outside her tent, at first she dismissed it as a sentry. But then she realized that it wasn't military issued boots hitting the ground with quiet thuds. She dove into her uniform, leaving the jacket open over her silk pajama shirt.
As the footsteps passed in front of the tent's entry she lunged through it and landed atop whoever had startled her. It was a young man with golden hair that shone in the moonlight. He was wearing black pants and a short red jacket. She muffled his voice with her hand, as she whispered into his ear, "Don't move. You probably wouldn't like getting burned." The last part was a direct threat but the man beneath her struggled even harder.
He clapped his hands around then put them flat on the ground, Myrte cursed under her breath as a faint blue glow that was all too familiar to her, lit the ground around them. She jumped back as two pillars of dirt rose up from the spot she had just been. She whipped out a white glove, forcing the fingers of her right hand into it. She snapped her fingers and the air behind her adversary burst into flames.
He dove to the ground, clapping just before his hands touched the soft earth bellow. He then pulled a long spear from the ground it was grand, with a serpent wrapped around the sharp point. Myrte snapped her fingers again as he rushed toward her, the point aimed for her stomach. The spear exploded in a ball of vicious fire sending bits of metal to shower the two. She expertly snapped again this time the ground beneath his feet turning into tongues of flame that licked his leather boots and burned with an intense heat.
Her opponent kicked the ground around him, using the loose sand to put out the flames. He pulled a piece of wood from his pocket and it began glowing, but before he could finish transmuting it Myrte snapped again. The air above them burst into flames lighting their faces and the area around them. The Colonel froze as she recognized the face. "Elric!" She snarled, rushing forward to grab the man's shoulders. He had recognized her at the same time, "M..Mustang?!" he stuttered as she forced him to look at her.
"What are you doing here?" She demanded, glancing at the movement around them. Their fight had caused the soldiers nearest to wake up. They were slowly poking tired faces with sleepy eyes out from their tents wanting to see what was going on. Someone recognized Myrte and began speaking. "Its Colonel Mustang! She's got someone with her, I think it might be the Steal Fisted Alchemist." Excited conversations hummed around them.
Myrte held his shoulders as she glared down at him he was just a few inches shorter than her. His blonde hair was short except for the bangs which fell around his face much like his father's had, he had golden eyes with a fierce gleam in them. And he was wearing a pair of gloves with an intricate transmutation circle on the palms. Major Armstrong came with a light. Elric decided to answer her question, "I came here to join you. Unfortunately I overslept and missed my train!" He shrugged out of her grip and turned to walk away but General Thompson stood just outside the ring of light, blocking his path.
Thompson spoke, "So Jasper Elric, you finally decided to join us?" Jasper nodded, "Yes Sir." He answered in a solemn voice. Thompson turned to look at Myrte and sighed. "You attacked one of our own?" his eyebrows lifted in question. "That idiot shrimp was sneaking around in the middle of the night!" "Idiot Shrimp!" Jasper's voice was offended, "Who are you calling too short to be a dog of the military?!" He asked in a bitter rage.
Thompson sighed heavily, "Elric you will go with Colonel Mustang in the morning seeing as you to get along so well." He turned and walked back through the darkness. The onlookers began returning to their tents as the excitement died down. Jasper trudged off with Major Armstrong mumbling under his breath. Myrte returned to her own tent exhausted, in her anger she finally fell asleep.
The next morning was a total mess, soldiers hurried to take-down their tents and load their belongings into the transport vehicles. Each regiment had a designated loading area where the vehicles sat waiting to be loaded. Myrte was done before most of the others and she hurried to find which vehicle she would be riding in. Once they were all ready to go Myrte climbed in next to Major Armstrong who was driving. Jasper sat in the back with Lt. Colonel Jason Havoc, Jasper ignored Myrte the entire drive.
When they arrived, the scene was depressing. The remnants of the outpost building were nothing more than burned bits of black wood and brick scattered along the ground. They first cleared the area and then pitched tents in several short rows. Jasper made sure he was on the other end from the Colonel. Armstrong then transmuted a large stone wall from the ground, complete with stairs that led to a ledge that jutted from the rock, creating a defensive wall ready for an attack.
Several uneventful days went by, Myrte had everything well organized and ready for an attack. She was not going to be surprised when the enemy decided to strike again. Fortunately Jasper kept well away from her, he sparred with the Major during free time, keeping his skills sharp. Myrte on the other hand spent what little time she had reviewing alchemical battle techniques and shooting long range targets.
There campsite happened to be rich in iron ore and other metals, so the Major kept busy transmuting bullets and other weapons they were not going to run out of supplies. Late one evening the sentry atop the wall suddenly yelled. He raced down the stairs and rushed to Myrte who was sitting outside her tent reading. He nearly fell on her but the Major caught him, gently standing him back up.
"Colonel! The enemy is approaching, they have cavalry and short range cannons!" Myrte shot up, "Find me the Steal Fisted Alchemist! Major come with me." She strode to the wall, her legs taking long strides.
She climbed the stairs two at a time and looked at the desert around her. There in the distance an army approached, burning torches revealing soldiers on horseback leading an immense group of foot soldiers. She nearly snarled with anger, So they think a midnight attack will catch us off guard?"Prepare all soldiers I want them armed and ready to man the heavy artillery. We are not going to give them the chance to take a single life!" Jasper Elric rushed up the stairs saluting her as he panted. "Steal Fist, I want you to provide a surprise attack as soon as they charge us. Do whatever is necessary to stop them with minimal casualties." She left him there and hurried to get her own weapons.
She slipped her fingers into her ignition clothe gloves and strapped on her shoulder holster under her uniform jacket, she then loaded four handguns. Two went in her shoulder holster while the other two were placed on each hip. She grabbed several cartridges and shoved them in her pocket. Then she threw her rifle over her shoulder and hurried back to the wall. Every soldier stood ready, guns loaded and the artillery was being prepped for battle.
Myrte was not going to lose her first battle, instead she hoped that it would be her first victory. An hour passed before their enemies were in firing range. The leader sat atop a white horse with its mane braided and an elaborate saddle and blanket on its back. He was dressed in armor decorated with an ridiculously extravagant design. He carried a sword in his right hand.
The Major leaned down to her and spoke in gruff whisper, "We are fighting one of the Princes of Xing! He has brought his clan to fight for his father's favor. They are hoping to win the first important battle." Myrte nodded she knew what they were up against. "But they will soon be impressed by the sheer strength of my own muscular body!" He made to burst from his jacket but Jasper stopped him with a gasp as the enemy began to charge.
Jasper jumped down from the wall and rushed in front of it. He clapped his gloved hands and placed them on the ground, the earth below began glowing as he transmuted the ground into a fragile sandstone. It would crumble under the weight of the cavalry soldiers on their horses.
He rushed back to the wall and took his place next to Myrte, she nodded approval as she watched the enemy approach. She kept her body calm as adrenaline suddenly coursed through her veins, the excitement of battle was undeniably horrible. She was filled with both fear and courage. Her heart said she would win but her mind raced to see the ending of the battle before it officially began.
The Prince was several yards ahead of his army he made it past the trap unscathed. But his men were not so lucky, they stormed onto the soft stone, the hooves hitting the stone. The sound from beneath the hooves was not sound it had a hollow ring to it. With half of the cavalry on the stone it suddenly gave way to a large pit. Outraged screams broke through the night, horses cried out pitifully as the ground fell out beneath them. They disappeared into a dark pit. Those who had not yet set foot on the trap tried to calm frightened horses, crazy with fear. The aftermath was a beautiful sight to both Myrte and Jasper.
Men chased after their mounts, soldiers tried to help their comrades up only to have themselves fall in. The Prince stared at his army and then up at the wall, catching Myrte's glaring eyes. He turned to his men yelling at them to continue the attack. In all the battlefield was nothing less then chaos. Some of the horses had been dragging the cannons, now lost in the huge pit.
Myrte snapped her fingers several times in quick succession, the effect was large explosions of intense fire around those still unscathed. The few horses who were calm were sent into an even worse frenzy. She then snapped both hands at the same time. The ground on either side of the Prince exploded sending rocks and dirt to shower his horse and him. The white stallion reared as the fire reached out burning fingers to the startled creature. The Prince fell from his mount landing in an undignified heap in the dirt and dust. The horse tore away from the battle, it had never rode into such a battle.
Soldiers rushed to their leader's side, he pushed them away angry and filled with vengeance. His black eyes looked back up to Myrte and he screamed out a challenge for her alone. The conditions required her to come down and fight him in a blocked off arena with a single weapon of her choice he would also be restricted to one weapon. Each were allowed to bring two comrades to the arena. Myrte looked at Armstrong and Jasper silently begging for their advice.
The Major slowly shook his head, "Do not except such a foolish challenge." But Jasper spoke up quickly, "Don't listen to him! If you decline they'll think our army is full of wimps. Go down there and show him who's better. He's only upset because you took away his dignity! Pompous fools like him need to be taught lessons!" He nodded his head with finality.
Myrte blinked, he was absolutely correct. I just need to make sure I win! She turned back to the Prince and gave him a challenging grin. Her father often used it when he was challenged by someone he knew he could defeat. "I accept your conditions!" She snarled down to him.
A few minutes later Myrte, flanked by Armstrong and Jasper, approached the designated area. She removed her jacket and handed it to the Major, she had no guns on her person, all she had was her ignition gloves and her determination. Myrte stood on the opposite end of the rectangular space with her subordinates at the two corners. All three had grim faces and gleaming eyes.
Her opponent turned to face her with a repulsive glare. He seemed disgusted to be fighting a woman as he whispered something to one of the two large masked body guards that stood on either side behind him. Myrte noticed that he was a rather handsome man but only on the outside.
He suddenly took a defensive stance brandishing a long sword and Myrte nearly laughed. Obviously he was used to hand-to-hand combat. Myrte remained standing straight her left hand in her pocket. She raised her right hand ready to strike. Her opponent lunged forward sword slicing the air as it came for her. Adrenaline surged through her veins, suddenly giving her strength. Myrte snapped and the air in front of him burst into flames. He halted to avoid the flames, but he lost his balance and landed on his empty hand. He came up into the super-heated air and his eyebrows were singed.
Jasper snickered from his corner as the enemy rubbed his fingers on his now smooth brow. Furious he dove for her, catching the side of her right arm as she snapped her fingers again. His silk shirt caught on fire as she focused on him. Pain throbbed annoyingly as blood flowed down her arm. She was used to a little pain. As a child learning alchemy she had often misjudged and ended up with minor burns on her hands and arms. On top of that she had learned her battle and survival skills from her father who had often used his own talent to drive his lessons home, all at the expense of his daughter's pain.
She spun to face her enemy who was ripping his tunic from his shoulders as the flames ate away the delicate fabric. She snapped again as he readied to attack again, this time the explosion sent him into the air. He flew only a few feet landing on his feet, his eyes burned like the flames as he launched toward her jumping above her at the last moment to land behind her.
He lunged using his indignation and fury to power his attack. She dodged with a smooth sidestep and snapped several times. The air exploded around him, a thick smoke clouding the battlefield. His body flew out from the smoke and his sword sliced into her thigh, this cut was much deeper than the first. She took in a ragged breath as a new pain stabbed into her, but she didn't lose ground. She pulled her left hand out and snapped both hands, forcing the air around her adversary to burst into wild flames.
Dust and smoke alike rose up blocking the light from the torches around them. Myrte smiled as she heard a howl of pain from the Prince as he stood on shaky legs. His face was burned and he charged the Colonel one last time but he was unbalanced and she deftly swerved away from the blade and tripped him with her uninjured leg. He fell to his face and the bodyguards came forward one attended to his master and the other faced Myrte.
He spoke in a gruff offended voice, "You have humiliated Prince Ying! In doing so you have sealed your fate. Had you lost the fight we would allow you to return home with your tail between your legs." He rushed forward pulling out his own sword but the ground shook beneath his feet and he fell. She had no time to react, her breathing had been reduced to ragged breaths and her leg felt like lead.
Jasper rushed forward, transmuting his automail arm into a long sharp sword. He swung his arm down, the blade cutting through the mask and outer tunic. The big man lurched backward, avoiding the sharp steal as a light dribble of blood fell from his brow. Jasper continued the assault, clapping and transmuting the ground into spikes. The man backed up into one of the sharp unnatural protrusions and his side began bleeding.
The bodyguards then bowed to their adversaries as they acknowledged defeat. Carrying their fallen leader they retreated to their own army.
Myrte's leg burned with pain and she limped over to Jasper who stood staring after them. "I don't think that's the last of them." she said in a strained voice. Jasper nodded as he turned to look at her, he caught her as her leg gave out from under her. She felt the flush in her cheeks as scorned herself. Was she really injured as bad as it seemed? Jasper held her only for a moment, the Major picked her up gently, carrying her in both arms back to the camp.
Colonel Mustang squirmed and spoke in a low voice that, Jasper later told her sounded like a growl, "Put me down I am just fine! Let me walk into the camp, I am triumphant allow me to return so!" But the Major refused politely, gripping her slim body tighter. I swear I will demote them both! She tried to speak, but her lips would not move, allowing only a low moan to escape her throat. That was even more embarrassing to her.
Jasper had gone ahead to get the medical staff ready for her, the Major had told him to do so. Her eyes were beginning to feel unusually heavy and her leg was soaked. How much blood had she lost? Perhaps that was her problem, her wounds were still freely flowing her life's blood. She tried to think about the battle but it was a hazy memory clouded by the excitement that had kept her going till the end. So that's a true fight for your life. I have never felt so alive. The will to survive is stronger than any other emotion. Those were her last thoughts as she blacked out.
Jasper stood with the doctor as Armstrong carried the Colonel into the large infirmary tent. He gently laid her down several tears running down his cheeks, "She just lost consciousness." He whispered quietly. The doctor hurried over, inspecting both wounds carefully. "Her arm has nothing more than a scratch, but this is deep cut in her leg. I'm afraid that there may be irreversible damage to the muscle tissue. Its hard to tell with all this dust in the wound, what was she thinking?"
Jasper waited outside the tent hoping for good news. He wasn't exactly fond of the Colonel, yet he knew how badly they all needed her. Even he admitted that without her, the battle would have been lost with much worse consequences. Someone walked by commenting on his ability as a fighter despite his height. His anger flared at the use of the word 'short' yelling into the darkness, "Who are you calling too small to see with a magnifying glass!?!"
A whispered curse came from inside and he turned to the tent, poking his head in curiously. For a moment the blinding light obscured his view then the scene sharpened. The doctor stood hunched over Mustang's left leg, his gloved hands covered in wet blood. An IV cord was attached to her right hand and her arm was bandaged. His eyes were filled with hope but the grim line he pressed his lips into showed just how bad the injury was. Jasper quickly turned back to the darkness outside slightly frightened.
Hours went by as the doctor worked well into the morning. Armstrong came up to the tent and smiled at Jasper, who had stayed up all night. He must have had more of his mother than he knew, Mustang and Elric never got along no matter what it was about. Jasper turned tired eyes to the Major who gave him an encouraging smiled. Both men entered the tent afraid of what they might find.
The doctor was sitting in a chair his eyes closed in exhaustion. Myrte lay on the table her leg heavily bandaged, still asleep/ Jasper wrinkled his nose, the room was perfumed with the scent of antiseptic that clung in his nostrils. He went to the doctor and gently placed his hand on the man's shoulder. The doctor jolted awake, glancing around for a split second before relaxing. "How is she doctor?" The Major's voice was quiet and respectful.
"Oh I think she will be just fine. That leg may take more time than she has patience before she can put her weight on it. No use over-straining healing muscles." Jasper heard Armstrong's sigh of relief and felt a twinge of something that remotely reflected the Major's feeling. He hoped she wouldn't be her usual self for sometime.
At about noon she came to, fully awake and in pain. The nurse gave her medication and told her to rest but of course she was already calling for the Major and 'Steal Fist' as she called him. When both men were preset she demanded a detailed report of what happened the night before. Armstrong took charge and retold the entire battle up until she passed out. Then the doctor came and filled in the rest.
At first it seemed that she was going to thank them, "You two just over-react don't you? I can just picture the Steal Shrimp rushing to the doctor and begging him for help!" She allowed her lips a small smile as Jasper's temper blew up. "Who are you calling a shrimp? Like I wanted you to come out alright! I'd be better without Colonel Sarcasm breathing down my back!" He left the tent in a rush, angered more by the Colonel's laughter behind him. Myrte Mustang was perfectly fine.
It took some weeks before Myrte was able to stand on her leg, meanwhile numerous battles had taken place. Amestris suffered few casualties and even fewer defeats. Although many people believed that they would win this war with nothing more than a few scratches, the Colonel and her most trusted subordinates knew Xing had something bigger planned. Mustang's victory was well known by the time she was healed. Her thigh still hurt occasionally a lingering affect that might never fully go away. Jasper and her had fought several times during her time in the infirmary tent.
But when another attack was coming in on them Jasper cooperated fully, he was no fool about war. Xing was still unwilling to take defeat and they came back with a vengeance. Jasper and Armstrong had spent the last few days setting up several booby traps around the camp. Myrte was yelling at several soldiers who were sick with severe hangovers when Jasper came to her. He paused to catch his breath before speaking, "Colonel we have the enemy approaching again. They wear different colors than the first group and are not accompanied by cavalry. Instead they have large wagons with them."
He turned away and began leaving when she stopped him, an idea forming in her head. "Steal Fist, I need you to go in and spy on them, obviously they are planning something much worse, I want to know what their plans are. I need you to find out as much as you can." She grinned at him as he looked at her with shock, "What do you expect me to just waltz in and ask questions?" She gave him a harsh glare, and he feinted fear. "Oh I'll go do it for you Colonel I'll be a good dog!"
She ignored his sarcasm, inwardly amused by his reaction. "Precisely Steal Shrimp, now get out of here!" He was too annoyed to shoot back a good rebuttal. But the freedom would do him some good.
He quickly transmuted his clothes to look like the uniforms the enemy soldiers wore, along with a wig, he carefully changed the color of his gloves to match his skin, making sure he didn't ruin the circles on the palms. He then bid farewell to the Major and headed to the south, he would need to circle around.
Night fell and the enemy camp was asleep as he slunk in. Jasper looked around searching for the tent holding the sleeping Prince. He found the tent at the heart of the camp, but the prince was awake talking to several warriors. Jasper listened intent on what was being said. "I will crush this arrogant woman who thinks she can stop us! The enemy will face defeat by my hand! I assure you I will not fail." A thickly accented voice pleaded. A softer feminine voice spoke in a threatening whisper, "I have given you the more than enough time! You need to get it over with, if you prove to be as successful as you claim I will reward you greatly.
"But I have no room for fools who can not accomplish simple tasks. Finish what your brother could not and I will see no reason to send you after him." Another voice laughed, "Yes your brother was rather unwilling to admit his failure to us. I was a bit harsh I suppose but then, there is no room for failure." Two people left the tent and passed the well hidden spy. He barely caught their faces in the dim moonlight. And was relieved by their normal appearance, he had almost expected to see evil purple eyes gleaming in the light. He knew all to well what had caused the unrest in Ishval and Lior many years back.
The fate of Amestris rested on the militaries shoulders, but was Xing acting alone? Jasper made for his escape back to Mustang and bumped into a soldier who came around the corner. He caught on to Jasper and began yelling, "Intruder! Spy! Help we are being infiltrated!" Soldiers came and surrounded him but he was already clapping his hands and transmuting the dirt. The ground shook as a large pillar rose from the ground taking him with it. He jumped off, landing on a wagon and continued running.
Soldiers approached from all sides and he found himself fighting them off. He did not see the big man sneak up behind him with a large wooden barrel. Jasper felt a sudden pain in his head just before everything went black.
Two days had passed since Myrte had sent Elric to spy on the enemy, the Major was uneasy about the whole situation he didn't like sending such a well needed human weapon into enemy lines. Lt. Colonel Havoc had suggested they wait a few more days, if he did not return the Colonel should send a small group of men in after him. She had agreed that someone would have to go in after him, but when she had suggested that she herself would go everyone had told her that was foolish. Armstrong had pointed out that everyone needed her as their fearless leader.
Another day passed before she decided to send someone after him. Late that evening she held a meeting with Armstrong, Havoc and the other few men she had come to trust. Havoc was going to lead a recovery team in to find and bring back Elric. Fuery and Breda would accompany him, the smaller the group the easier to get him out. They would put their plan in action the next evening, giving them a full night to get the job done.
Jasper Elric came to inside a locked wagon, he was lying on the floor in the dark. His hands were bound behind his back, his feet were free but he was unable to use his alchemy. He struggled up on his feet and looked around in the dark. He could hear voices outside talking quietly. He listened for a few moments, it was just two guards having a regular conversation. Nothing said was useful to him so he felt around the door and the single window.
They were shut tight, leaving him no escape option. He just waited, all he could do was keep his mouth shut and ears open.
He spent two days completely alone, he had heard numerous conversations that held valuable info. Jasper was given bread and water once a day through the tiny slit in the door. The third evening was rather eventful, the guards dragged him out and forced into a small tent. He stood defiantly, facing a middle aged man dressed in fine silk with two swords at his hips. One of the guards shoved him down into a low bow.
The man who could be none other than royalty spoke, "You are an Amestrian spy?" His voice sounded like rocks were being rubbed together. Jasper lifted his eyes to look at the man and ignored the question. "Who sent you?" He asked another question his voice calm.
For nearly an hour Jasper sat on the ground inside the tent ignoring question after question. When his blank stares outraged the man the guards began beating him. Fortunately he could take a good beating, and he never gave in. Instead he enjoyed the blows as they brought out fresh pains that dulled his senses. Crack! Slash, went a leather whip into his back, it fell to the ground and one of the guards kicked him. He was pushed a few inches to the side, his stomach above the whip. With a deft flick of his wrist the wicked man brought the whip up into his stomach, it cut a long gash from one side to the other blood fell to the floor as he held back a scream. Blood oozed from a cut on his forehead, blinding his right eye. He could tell that several of his ribs were broken, and he could feel the beginnings of bruises on every square inch of his body. Several gashes bled openly, his wounds burned and he began to feel dizzy. He knew that he was slipping away, that this might be the last thing he felt and saw. Another deft kick to his stomach left him gasping for air, spots danced around him. He endured a few more devastating blows before the Prince grew board of watching his men inflict wound after wound upon Jasper.
The Prince stepped forward to stand over his prisoner, he knelt down to see into his eyes and smiled. Elric's eyes were glassy and still fierce with his determination. The prince lifted him up by his short hair, "Are you going to answer me or not!?" Jasper shakily stood on his own legs and tried to kick his enemy with what little strength he had left. The Prince caught his leg, and brought his fist into the younger man's face. His body gave out, too weak to withstand another blow, he sunk to the floor completely helpless. His vision was slightly blurred already, but it now clouded until blackness replaced the tent and his mind went followed.
The Prince turned away from his prisoner and the guards carried him back to the wagon, throwing him in with cruel force. They had left his right arm alone, they had no clue about automail. His gasping breaths could be heard from outside. The guards agreed that he would die before morning.