If you were to step onto the balcony of the tallest tower in central city, you would see the whole land of Amestris stretch before you: a vast desert to the East, rolling hills of fertile land to the South and West, and icy mountains to the North.
As your gaze would wonder the panorama, you might notice, just where the blue of the frozen peaks meets the sky, one mountain in particular which, half way up its summit, splits into two as though cloven by the gods themselves. If the day was clear and you looked really very much harder, you might be able to make out the little plateau which lies at the base of this rocky V, however, none of this would be very interesting unless you had eyes like the magicians of old. However, if you did indeed have farsight, and if you knew just where to look, you'd see a little town hugging the two craggy stone walls, safe in the shadow of the mountain, hidden from sight.
Now, I know that you're really rather smart and know all about our history, but bear with an old man as I tell you the story of why we live here today, and why it was so fortunate that no one in central city had sight so sharp as the ancients.
Many years before your time, in an age even before the great war with Aerugo (such a very long time ago it was), the whole land of Amestris was at war. The Fire Nation, a polluted people forced to leave their homeland as they had stripped it of all use, invaded from the South and from the East. Their people wielded fire as a weapon, but lacked knowledge, for they had no concept of the rules of equivalent exchange. The invading armies marched on the capital city, burning, pillaging, and destroying everything in their path, never resting, and without regard for the doom they sealed upon themselves.
Maybe the air here in Amestris is different from whence they came, or maybe they knew the price and thought it worthy, but as their armies advanced so too their humanity dwindled. No longer were they men, but wraiths and ghasts and shades who had traded their very souls for victory in battle – the price was terrible, but so too was their power.
Slowly our armies were pushed back and many of our greatest alchemists fell. Our people dwindled and went into hiding. A resistance movement sprouted with parties led by mighty alchemists, but even these men were routed by the fiery wrath the fire nation enforcers – the shades. Fighting against them became rare. The end was near.
But as you know, the cycle of time must continue, and so when doom for our people seemed all but assured, so too began murmurs of a great hero. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, maybe a desperate joke, maybe a prayer to the gods, but the hero did come, and though she wasn't what any expected, it was she who brought us salvation.
And hers is the story I set out to tell you today, my sweet summer child. It starts just as many epic stories start – in the most unassuming place imaginable. In fact, our story starts in a little town, far north of Central City, nestled in the crag of a mountain. The town is called Haven, and it is here our heroin grew up.