"I hate school assemblies." Fourteen year old Roy grumbled, grabbing his school bag and trudging through the halls to the school auditorium.
His ever present eleven year old companion rolled her eyes. "We have them every month. Why don't you just face that fact and quit complaining every time they come around?"
"Because, Riza I don't know if you've realized this yet but, THEY'RE BORING AS HELL!" Roy yelled, throwing his hands in the air to show the extent of his frustration. Everyone in the hall turned to look at them.
"Thanks for attracting unwanted attention." Riza mumbled, casting a slight glare in the direction of said attractor.
Roy sighed, walking into the auditorium. "Why can't we just skip these dumb things and come back when they're over?"
Riza sat down, setting her school bag neatly in her lap. "Because, unlike you, I don't find it fun nor worth it to get in trouble." That made Roy shut right up.
The principal walked up the stairs to the stage and onto the podium. "Well, I have some exciting news! This year, the school board has decided to reinstate the annual Fall Festival! You all will be required to preform something of your choice, be it a skit or magic tricks or anything in between. The festival is in a month, so you better get practicing!"
Roy had to suppress laughter and Riza had to suppress a groan. Performing (known to Roy as showing off) was something that they both knew was going to be a challenge, especially for Riza with her social awkwardness. While other girls Riza's age were already trying to impress boys and wearing the showiest clothes that were allowed by the school's dress code, the blonde girl had just become more awkward and introverted. This was going to be bad.
"You are dismissed." The principal told everyone. Both Riza and Roy were relieved for that, and for the fact that school was over for the day.
"What the hell are we going to do?!" Riza groaned as Roy entered the attic that was their hideaway way past midnight after training with Riza's father.
"I know what I'm going to do!" Roy grinned. "Just a bit of bing bang boom snap snappity snap...ALCHEMY!"
Riza looked unsure. "You better practice that so you don't burn the whole school down, along with everyone in it!"
Roy pouted, looking jokingly hurt. "Your words wound me, Miss Hawkeye! And her I thought you had faith in me!"
"Of course I don't." Riza said simply, sounding serious even though she wasn't. She was very good at bluffing, and often used that ability against her very gullible best friend. Even though the Hawkeye girl was younger than the Mustang boy by three years, people often forgot that. The Mustang himself included.
Roy sighed. "Anyway, what are you planning to do? Don't argue when I say this, because we all know you're the most awkward performer ever." Riza didn't argue. She was asleep, but she didn't need to hear him. She knew that she was, and she knew what she was going to do.
For weeks they practiced. Berthold Hawkeye helped Roy in every way with preparing for his act, wanting to make him look better than anyone. He didn't even seem to care that Riza had to preform. He didn't even ask her what she was going to do. Riza didn't really mind. She practiced quietly, in the dead of night or even outside when everyone was asleep or on the rare occasion that she was home alone. The hawk liked it that way. She could focus.
Finally, September 1st. The talent show had arrived. Before the event Berthold had boasted that Roy would blow the whole show in his own words 'on it's ass'. That he did, wowing everyone by transmuting fireworks of different colours and shapes, even ones that moved. Riza didn't care about showing everyone up like Roy or her father did. She just wanted to get the damn thing over with.
Riza was the last person to preform that evening. Keeping a straight posture and emotionless face, she walked out onto the stage. She had sewn herself a sort of costume, a flowy white dress made of chiffon with a wreath of flowers and white gauze as a headpiece. She hated wearing the girly outfit, but didn't want her father to be mad at her for 'not making a good impression for the Hawkeye family'. She had put together the outfit herself with what little sewing skills her mother had taught her before she had passed away. It was crude, but from far away it looked alright.
The lone wolf, or hawk, of a girl walked to the front of the stage and stood up straight, speaking clearly. "Hello. My name is Riza Hawkeye and tonight I'm going to be singing for you The Valley Song in the North Amestrian language, the dialect of the Gondor region." Riza's music started and she began to sing.
"Pour toi, je suis l'ignorante sauvage,
Tu me parles de ma différence,
je crois sans malveillance.
Mais si dans ton langage,
tu emploies le mot sauvage,
C'est que tes yeux sont remplis de nuages,
de nuages...
Tu crois que la terre t'appartient toute entière,
Pour toi, ce n'est qu'un tapis de poussière!
Moi je sais que la pierre, l'oiseau et les fleurs,
Ont une vie, ont un esprit et un cœur.
Pour toi l'étranger ne porte le nom d'Homme,
Que s'il te ressemble et pense à ta façon.
Mais en marchant dans ses pas, tu te questionnes,
Es-tu sûr, au fond de toi, d'avoir raison?
Comprends-tu le chant d'espoir du loup qui meurt d'amour,
Les pleurs du chat sauvage au petit jour?
Entends-tu chanter les esprits de la montagne,
Peux-tu peindre en milles couleurs l'air du vent?
Peux-tu peindre en milles couleurs l'air du vent?
Courrons dans les forêts d'or et de lumière,
Partageons-nous les fruits mûrs de la vie.
La terre nous offre ses trésors, ses mystères,
Le bonheur, ici-bas, n'a pas de prix!
Je suis fille des torrents, sœur des rivières,
La loutre et le héron sont mes amis.
Et nous tournons tous ensemble, au fil des jours,
Dans un cercle, une ronde à l'infini!
Là-haut, le sycomore dort,
Comme l'aigle Royal, il trône impérial.
Les créatures de la nature ont besoin d'air pur,
Et qu'importe la couleur de leur peau.
Chantons tous en Chœur les chansons de la montagne,
En rêvant de pouvoir peindre l'air du vent...
Mais la terre n'est que poussière,
tant que l'Homme ignore comment,
Il peut peindre en milles couleurs l'air du vent!
L'air du vent.."
The auditorium erupted into applause, especially Roy, Maes, and Gracia who were sitting side by side in the very front. As Riza expected her father remained completely emotionless and still, but she couldn't care less.
Weeks later, no one seemed to remember Riza's performance. In fact, only one person besides Riza herself did. Roy remembered, and he remembered his entire life. He remembered that day, and the day Riza sung that song to their newborn son, and the day she sang that as he lay dying. He smiled down from Heaven as she sang that as he was laid for his final rest.