The Edwin Principal
By Yellow Mask
Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.
Equivalent Exchange.
Ed was practically raised on it, the fundamental principle of alchemy.
Then he tried to transmute his mother, and he realised that the principal had failed. Or it was far too perfect, he couldn't decide. He lost his limbs, and Al lost his body.
They'd burned their house to ashes, disowned the town that raised them for the sake of a silver watch. It didn't seem a fair trade to Ed.
The search for the Philosopher's Stone had been gruelling, and innocence was only one of the many things they lost along the way. It was like an uphill climb, always struggling harder, pushing to go faster, reaching for that shining, indefinable goal. The Holy Grail of Alchemy, a ticket for bypassing the law of Equivalent Exchange.
But that too, had come at a price.
He'd been restored, eventually, all his limbs in perfect working order, no hint of automail. In exchange, the Gate took Al's soul.
He'd restored his brother, at the cost of being hurled into another world. He'd found his way back, and in return it was to be the last time he ever saw his home.
And now, back in Germany with his brother beside him, Ed thinks he's beginning to understand. One mistake can cost you everything, and the Gate can wait years for the price.
The day he tried to transmute his mother, the day he lost his limbs and Al lost his body, he thought he'd paid it. But he was wrong. He hadn't paid anything.
He thought he'd lost Al, but the Gate allowed him to attach his brother's mind and soul to a piece of armour. Why? Why had it allowed them to escape with only the sacrifices of their bodies, but nothing paid towards the cost of the mind and soul and heart they'd tried to restore?
Back then, he'd thought he was lucky, that he'd moved fast enough to bring back Al's soul before the Gate destroyed it.
Now, he knows it was simply waiting. Waiting to exact the full price. The dominos had been assembled, and like a fool, he'd knocked the first one over. All through the years of his search they had been falling, each one knocking the next one down in turn, growing ever closer to the final domino, the final payment. All his choices, all his actions, all leading inexorably to one event.
He lost his mother – body and mind, heart and soul – and he'd tried to bring her back. The Gate didn't care that he'd failed, it only cared that he tried, and must pay in equivalency for that attempt.
He lost his mother, and tried to restore her. Now Ed finally understands what the Gate took from him that day. He finally realises that his equivalent exchange has arrived, though it was many years in coming.
Winry.
That's his price. That's his equivalency. He tried to buy a body, a mind, a heart and a soul, and sometimes wondered why he and Al had only suffered in their bodies. Now he knew.
Winry was alive, yes, but she was lost to him. Completely. Body and mind, heart and soul. Winry, exchanged for the attempt to revive his mother.
The Gate was patient, the Gate waited for years to exact the cost. That day Ed lost far more than he thought. That day, he set into motion the chain of events that eventually led him here. In another world. Without her.
Ed wonders, sometimes. If someone had walked up to that amber-eyed boy all those years ago, walked up and told him that Winry was the price he'd have to pay for his attempt at human transmutation, would he still do it?
Ed supposes it's a moot point now. No one told him what the price would be, he wasn't warned, he tried, he failed…and he lost her.
Equivalent Exchange.
Winry for his mother.
A body for a body.
A mind for a mind.
A heart for a heart.
A soul for a soul.
Together these equations make one human being. A girl, a girl with blue eyes like the summer sky, with a sharp mind ever-curious about a machine's workings, with an enormous heart and one of the kindest souls he's ever known. A girl he'll never see again.
Looking back on it now, he can see why the Gate took her. Winry was always the perfect exchange for his mother.
Someone he once loved, for someon he loves now.
And now, the principal of Equivalent Exchange has come to fruition. Winry is as lost to him as his mother was. One mistake, one foolish mistake made when he was ten years old...and now the consequences steals Winry away from him after so many years.
And yet…
He remembers what his father told him when he first arrived in this world. That those who die here become alchemical reactions. Their souls provide the energy the alchemist needs before evaporating, becoming insignificant molecules to float around in the ether, before becoming a part of every living creature again.
He knows that's what will happen to him. He'll die and his soul will fly to the Gate, be used as energy, and then all the atoms of him will drift free and then…
And then, he'll look for her. He'll look for the atoms of Winry Rockbell, and when they find each other they'll cling together so tightly that nothing and no one will ever tear them apart. Every atom of him and every atom of her, they'll live in everything…in flowers, in clouds, in people, and whenever another atom is taken to build something else, they won't be able to take one. They'll have to take two, one of him and one of her, they'll be joined so tightly.
Perhaps the thought is a grim one, but it fills him with hope.
oooooooo
Many years later:
"Excuse me, sir?" A tentative hand rose into the air. "Excuse me, Mr. Mustang?"
The teacher smiled. Clarissa was such a curious student, forever asking questions in the middle of delicate experiments. Blowing a puff of blonde hair from his eyes in mock-exasperation, William Mustang walks to the girl. While Mustang seems an odd name, he is quite proud of it. It shows he is descended from heroes – the great-great-great-grandson of Roy and Riza Mustang.
"What's the trouble?"
"We were meant to separate the atoms, sir," she explains, gesturing to her alchemical array, "But something went wrong, some of mine didn't separate."
William places his hands on the array, feeling the resistance of the atoms to part. This is not your usual chemical bond – they are immovable.
He smiles at the worried girl. "Don't worry, this is an unusual phenomenon, but one that's been frequently documented by scientists and alchemists alike."
The sparkle of interest in Clarissa's eyes prompts him to elaborate. "At times, people working with atoms have encountered two which simply do not split. No matter what stress they subject the atoms too, they remain as tightly bonded as ever. As yet, no one's managed to discover what holds them together," he chuckled lightly. "There's a lot of scientists working on it, though."
"So these atoms just never come apart?"
William shook his head. "The phenomenon was discovered about eighty years ago, though who knows how long it had been going on before then."
"So," the girl muttered, pen poised over her notes, "What is it?"
The teacher smiled again, already beginning to drift to another student.
"They're called Edwin atoms. And it's the Edwin Principal of Alchemy. Some things cannot be parted."
End.