Firstly, this is a fanfiction, yes. I will get no sort of recognition for writing this. This will never get me published, I realize this. I have written original stories. Very many of so. Most of them are, in my own words, decent. Nothing amazing. Nothing fantastic enough to be published. And I also realize that there are many other authors out there with the same skills that I have and there are also many who can write much, much better than myself. I am not the best. But I am no where near the worst. However, here is the difference than myself and most writers. I spend as much time writing a fanfiction as I do on an original piece and any of my poetry. Maybe this is a godsend. Maybe this is an omen. One never does though. But since I put as much time into a fanfiction as I do into an original, know that I put my heart and soul into it.

And if you steal anything I write, I will chop off your little fingers. :D

Secondly, I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do own Kristoph Mistan. Take his personality or anything about him or the make-up of this story and read the line above this small section. Please and thank you.

Don't forget to rate and review.

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Prelude:

YOU MUST READ THIS.

(Although, I can't make you I suppose.)

Do not skim it over as if it is merely garbage and not worth your time.

These few lines may be the ones that later on save your life.

Do not make the same mistakes that I have.

Learn to trust those you normally never would.

Learn to see what affect your actions have on others.

Tamper with the things that you know nothing about.

It is really the only way to learn anything of worth.

Learn to live on the edge of life.

Sometimes it is vital to walk in the streetinstead of on the sidewalks.

Do things that you normally never would attempt.

Have a heart and realize that others have one the same as yours.

Do not put up your walls and allow no one to see you.

But also know that false personas are sometimes the best move.

Rarely, but at times, they'll save your life.

You can tempt sin as much as you want.

Just know that it will just as quickly tempt you back.

And you will fall for its temptation before it will fall for yours.

Never regret your mistakes, but...

Learn to learn from your mistakes.

Don't think of yourself as one person.

See yourself as if you are an entire city, and so you shall be.

Don't be afraid of what you don't know.

Learn the value of being pure hearted.

Learn to long to have those days back.

And most of all know,

You can walk back from Death.

You just have to know the right time to go back to It.

Be prepared to sacrifice it all if the right time comes.

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Yes. I often write preludes to my own journals.

And these preludes are often multiple pages. Odd? Yes. Uncommon- for me? Not in the least.

I'm just going to tell you that all of the things that you read in this journal, they all were, are, and forever will be true.

If this isn't true, then you are reading the diary of a criminally insane person, who is living on the brinks of Hell and Earth and made this entire story up. Which, while not completely wrong, should be quite as interesting as the real thing, don't you think?

I really knew the infamous boy now called a Mister Edward Elric. I knew his brother. his friends, his superiors and his underlings. And I knew them all well, as much as I now wish that I hadn't known them at all.

I've had encounters with all of his mistakes- my adventures with Envy were one of the kind. And while I await my judgment before the final gates, I write this all down on paper, as so I don't want my life to be eternally forgotten in the sands of time. So, perhaps that this may be found by someone in 20- 50- 100 years, and it will let someone know of the life that I left behind and my marks on humanity. And they were quite huge marks left if I do say so myself. And I do.

So, you may call this journal a tale of lies- the incessant ramblings of a feeble mind- whatever the case may be in your case of course. Only you can determine whether these tales told are truths or lies because by the time that it is read by anyone of whom will be influenced by this writing, I will be completely disintegrated into dust or a molded corpse in a coffin somewhere. Morbid, but true.

As I write this now, my mind is completely stable. In my old age, I have not wearied. (Mind old in my case is only mere elementary years for others.) I can still remember these conversations with my friends and enemies as if they were as fresh as today's in my mind. Not that I've had any at all today, but this, again, is beside the point that I was attempting to make.

Over the years, I have managed to find contact with my closest of friends and even the lovers that I thought that I had managed to be rid of. I've come to see what they saw in these very same times as my own. By seeing their points of views, I have been changed. I've seen my wrongs ever the more clearly. But one cannot change the past, so one shouldn't regret mistakes.

I have seen war, my dear. And know that it is nothing near as beautifying as people make it out to be in the movies and stories. I know that heartbreak comes along just as easily as happiness, if not easier in certain cases.

Okay, maybe I do manage to ramble and become off topic. But, alas, this is the way that I've always managed to be. This is but life. And life is much too short to worry about the little things.

While bearing all of the things that I have said in mind, you may begin now.

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