Piecing Together Truth
Summary:
My name is Quincy Rayvn McCloud. I was born in West City, Amestris in the year 1921. I was born into a world destroyed by itself. After the death of Fuhrer King Bradley, and the rise of the old government, the State Alchemists were put to work in advancing the technology of our world. A life, once realitvely easy and mildly-paced, now riddled with technological advances. Within a year of the technological advances in or era, Amestris was torn apart by civil war. Of the over fifty-thousand residents spread across the various sections of Amestris, only five-hundred and seventy-four people remain. We thought we had done this, that we caused it all. None of us knew it was far from the truth.
Truth was angry.
Truth was broken.
Truth needed help.
It needed to be fixed.
My name is Quincy "Quinn" Rayvn McCloud, and with Riana "Ryan" Dorlean, I have been chosen to fix Truth.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, but Quinn and Ryan are my own original characters.
Author's Note: I've NEVER read a story like this, so bare with me as this is slightly new territory. Future note, think of Quinn and Ryan dressed in a style similar to Steampunk (if you don't know what it is, google it). First chapter is relatively short, but I wanted to give the readers an idea of what happened and what the world is like for Quinn.
Please leave a review and let me know what you think. As this is only the beginning, I hope for the story to grow larger and deeper as the chapters progress.
Chapter One
Mission Accepted
The savage wind kicked dirt and dust into the air and it is during dust-storms like this one that most people rarely venture outside. Broken buildings and empty streets marks the place that had once been known as Central, the capital of Amestris. The desolate ruins, of what once was, housed around one hundred out of the nearly six-hundred residents of Amestris. Central, looking just like every other city across Amestris, was home of one of the greatest blood-baths in recent history.
I had only been four-years-old back then, when the civil war had broken out across Amestris. Some territories arguing that the military-run government had been better for our society. Other territories argued, saying that military personnel in positions of power started to hunger for more. The fighting continued to grow, covering the entire country of Amestris, and within the by the time I turned eight, the war had finally come to an end.
There was a great cost.
Many Alchemists died during the war. It hadn't been just State-vs.-State, Alchemist-vs.-Alchemist had been the reason behind much of the desolation across the major cities. The Alchemists that did survive had disappeared from the country, either living in solitude or leaving the country all together. Mentionings of Alchemy practice are frowned upon, and Alchemists these days are attacked, fingers pointed toward them for the majority of the destruction. No one ever wanted to admit to being an Alchemist.
Not all is lost, though, I think as I move through the ruins of Central, peering over the landscape through my bronze-ringed goggles.
It is true. Not everything was bad. There are still good people in the world. My automail mechanic, Tony Rockbell, was a good guy. I remember his mother had been beautiful, stern, but so very kind. Though, automail is frowned upon as well, because most people would kill a handicaped person for their mechanical limb in order to hock it for some spare money at a junk yard. It can be hard to keep that a secret, but I had been very young, at the age of six, when I lost both of my forearms and hands in a horrible attack. My foster mother, a woman named Rose, had taken me to Mrs. Rockbell-Tringham. It was then that I met Tony Rockbell, who at the time had been apprenticing in his mother's workshop. He had been a good friend and if it wasn't for the rather significant gap in ages, I feel as though we could have been something more.
"State your name and purpose, or remove yourself from my home."
My gaze snaps up to the green eyes glaring at me from the entrance to a well-masked safe house. The woman, over ten years older than myself, was a force to be reckoned with. As beautiful as she is cunning, Elicia Hughes was a woman of the people. She would help anyone in need, but she had an odd trait of knowing when someone is bad news.
Pulling the leather fabric of my hood down from my head, I run a hand through my red-streaked black curls as I flash the woman a grin, "Sorry, Elicia, I was a bit lost in thought."
Elicia's eyes widen significantly and I catch sight of her removing her finger from the trigger of a well-hidden gun, "Oh dear, Quinn, get inside, quickly."
After being ushered inside, I am greeted by a sight that differs from the outside. On the outside, the crumbling sight of the building looks as though it should be condeemed like every other building, and the area that looks as though it had once been a living room is really nothing more than show. Moving toward the secret underground bunker, I drop down and am greeted by the metallic walls mixed with whatever furniture that could be salvaged.
"Quinn!"
Catching sight of a pretty brunette racing over toward me, I flash a grin at my surrogate sister. Riana Dorlean, or 'Ryan', has also been a foster child to our late-mother, Rose. We were the last members of our make-shift family and for the longest time, that's all that mattered. Ryan, being three years younger than myself, always had a way of looking on the bright side of things. I never really had a chance to live a childhood, as I lived to protect the other children from the tragedies of the world. I had been forced to grow up fast, but looking back, I wouldn't have changed a thing.
"So, what happened at Tony's?"
That's right, I had been gone for two months. See, a couple months ago, I received a cryptic and coded message from Tony and treked my way to Resembool, a small rural town that had barely been touched during the war. Taking the train, or any other mode of public transportation, wasn't safe, nor a smart idea, so I had been forced to walk. Upon arriving, Tony showed me some old letters, diaries and files that he had found in a secret, hidden compartment in his mother's house. It spoke of the infamous Fullmetal Alchemist, the youngest Alchemist to become State certified. I'm not surprised, Elicia speaks often about an Edward and Alphonse Elric that disappeared many decades ago. Tony handed me the file, speaking of the last sighting of Edward 'The Fullmetal Alchemist' Elric during an invasion from a world on the other side of the Gate, and the sealing of the Gate that followed his departure. The document signed and notorized by Roy 'The Flame Alchemist' Mustang, a name not spoken often in the Rockbell house, but a familiar one in the Hughes residence.
"Elicia, you have spoken of someone named Mustang," Elicia nods, a soft smile on her lips as she sets a mug of filtered and distilled water in front of me as I sit next to Ryan on the couch, "Did he ever speak of sealing the Gate?"
"Yes. Ed and Al didn't want another invasion happened to Amestris, so they sealed the Gate on the other side, while Roy sealed it from this side," Elicia shrugs, smiling sheepishly, "I'm afraid I still don't understand any of that Alchemy stuff."
The soft clicking of my metallic fingers tapping against each other fills the air as I ponder over the new information, "I remember reading in Alchemy that the Gate is what guides Alchemy in this world. Alchemists have a Gate within themselves that connects them with the Gate of Truth. If they sealed the Gate, it meant they should have sealed Alchemy from this world all together."
"Yet, there is talk of Alchemy still being used in Amestris," Ryan states, looking between me and Elicia, "Maybe...maybe something is wrong with the Gate of Truth."
I feel my silver eyes widen as they snap up to look at my sister, "Ryan, sometimes, I wonder how you can be so naive and yet so fucking brilliant! Elicia," I turn, ignoring the disapproving look from the older woman at my cussing, "I wonder if you have any of Mustang's old Alchemy books."
Neither of them bother to try and stop me. I'm a bit stubborn when it comes to figuring out a puzzle and once I start, it's impossible to try and stop me. Hours tick by and I skim quickly through pages and books, searching for a sign, of anything. The annoying ticking sound of the nearby clock mixes with the gentle sounds of Elicia and Ryan sleeping in the large area made into a sleeping quarters, cots lining the walls. Tossing yet another book aside, I pick up one more and upon looking on the inside cover, I catch sight of the name E. Elric inscribed on along the bottom corner. Within minutes, I lost myself within the pages as I read the personal notes of Edward Elric.
A groan of unease leaves my lips as my arms stretch above my head, cracks sounding as my back straightens from its slightly haunched over position. After piecing all of the information together, I truly believe I have come to an explanation. One that accounts for the present. An explanation that makes perfect, logical sense.
For an Alchemist anyway.
"Please tell me you didn't stay up all night," Elicia's voice cuts through my thoughts.
"I didn't stay up all night," I grin at the pointed look, "There was a few points throughout the night that I laid down to read, sometimes I paced."
"You are incouragable," Elicia's huffs between soft giggles, "Did you manage to figure anything out?"
"I think the Gate of Truth is broken," I state, watching as her eyes widen, "Truth is a passage between two worlds, that much we have learned due to the invasion. I came across notes written by Elric, one that explained the souls of the dying on the other side of the Gate is brought here to use as the energy we use for Alchemy. In turn, when an Alchemist dies on this side, they are taken into an Alchemy-free world. Think of it as a sense of Purgatory for Alchemists."
"I'm following you so far," Elicia murmurs.
I smile gently before turning toward the kitchen area, making myself a cup of coffee (a special treat I usually stock up on while in Resembool), "Well, if both sides of the Truth was sealed, that means the passage way for the energy we use for Alchemy is closed off. Any Alchemy used after had to have energy coming from somewhere, so Truth was forced to balance out and use souls from this side of the Gate."
"Hence the sudden break out in fueds and wars," Elicia's eyes grow wide with horror, "Do you think there is a way to fix Truth?"
"It's possible, maybe the right kind of sacrifice can fix it and maybe we can stop living in a world full of hate," I reply, sipping my coffee, "but first, I must prepare for everything. Give these notes to Ryan when she wakes up and then tell her to get ready as well. I won't be able to do this alone, and I'm not sure how this is going to work."
I have to dress for mobility and comfort. I'm not sure what I'm about to get involved in, but it has to be done. The black (soft) leather skirt decorated with areas of red lace stops just above the tops of my knees, giving me an ease of mobility and kept my modesty intact. The red peasant top acts as a comfort barrier between the skin of my stomach and the (soft) leather corset, the red fabric draping gently over the swells of my breasts. Gauntlets made of (soft) leather, covers the expanse of both of my forearms and hands, act as protection (not that its needed for my automail) but also as a weapon (the hidden blades running along the underside of my forearms). Bronze tipped the toes and heels of my flat-soled boots and matched the style of my bronze-accented goggles I usually keep on the top of my head.
Creating the correct array, I only hope that I'm write about all of this. I would hate to screw this up before I get a chance to fix it. The chalk-lined Transmutation Circle was decorated and inscribed with symbols for Truth. Standing upright, I turn toward the sound of someone coming out onto the roof. Ryan, dressed much like myself with accents of green and bronze, pauses on the other side of the array.
"Riana," she stands straighter, knowing that I am serious by the use of her full first name, "You cannot help me if you are not one-hundred percent sure you want to. The slightest doubt or hesitation could cause this to rebound and do even more damage. I also cannot be sure what will happen if we succeed."
Ryan smiles, giving me a mocking salute, "I, Riana, will follow by own will, no matter where you, Quincy, will go. Quinn, we are a package deal. In the off-chance that Truth does do something, it will have to be the both of us, or neither. I won't live in this world without you in it."
I say nothing, and I'm sure the discomfort I feel is showing on my face. Don't get me wrong, I care so deeply for Ryan, as any sibling would, but I'm not exactly the best with 'family' moments. Shaking my head, I give her a half-assed smile before placing my hands flat against the array, Ryan mirroring my actions. Closing my eyes, I focus on the plan.
What do you want, child?
I want to fix it.
By 'it' you mean me?
Yes. Our world cannot sustain much longer on this path.
So it is my fault.
No. Please Truth, I only wish to make things right. Please tell me, is there a way to fix it?
I can only be fixed by those who did this to me.
I want to help. I want to fix all of this. I don't care what needs to be done.
You will be forced to give up everything -
- Just not my sister. Ryan is all I really have.
No. If you wish to do this, you and your sister will give up everything, and I do mean 'everything'. Are you sure you are willing?
Yes.
"Quinn!"
Snapping my eyes open, all I see is endless white and dancing shadows, Ryan fading in the distance, "Ryan!"
A shadowed hand grips me by the shoulder, forcing me to turn around and I feel my eyes widen at the sight of the delapetated Truth. Opening my mouth, to demand where my sister is, a sudden flood of burning pain seers through my body. For the first time, in many, many years, a scream of agony leaves my lips and my world floods with darkness.
A steady, annoying beeping pierces through the dark void of my mind. Realizing I am coming to awareness, I struggle to open my eyes and am met with stark white walls. A hospital room. Resting back against the pillow, I wonder why I am in a hospital. What happened? I remember performing the Alchemy, Truth and Ryan disappearing-
"Ryan!" I shriek, shooting upright before a hiss of pain escapes my lips, "Damn it!"
A thud sounds from my left and I look over to see an older man, sprawled on the floor, the chair he was sitting in on its back. His black hair appeared to have subtle green undertones as he sits upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before adjusting his glasses. Cautiously, I watch as he moves to his feet before turning toward me. The smile on his face feels familiar, and I'm not entirely sure how, seeing as though I've never seen this man in my entire life.
"Thank goodness you are alright," I remain silent as he fixes the chair before settling in it once again, "I nearly ran you over when you fell into the street. You looked pretty beaten up."
"Who are you? Where am I?" I demand, finding my voice as I stare into his olive-green eyes.
"You are in Central, Amestris and I am Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes," he states proudly.
Hughes? Maes Hughes? Shock fills every part of my mind and body. You've got to be kidding me! Why would the Gate send me here?