Prelude: Day of Terror

Fire was raining from the sky as if Ishvala herself was judging them for some kind of short coming or betrayal. A small boy stumbled across the rubble covered streets, breath coming in sharp gasps and white hair flopping with each step. The frightened screams and wails of people he'd grown up around seemed to be chasing him, driving him down the street towards his home where his mother and little brother were. He had to warn them of the coming danger before the alchemist spreading destruction across the town reached them.

The Elric house was situated on the outskirts of town with a generous space all around it that separated it from the rest of the houses nearby. This was because Trisha Elric had been declared unclean for marrying an outsider and, worse yet, having children with him. She and her two sons lived alone, only tolerated by the local people because the outsider had long since vanished into the heat of the desert, never to be seen again. The only reminder she had of her lover were the physical similarities her two boys shared with him. Edward, the older of the two, took after his father. His hair was the brilliant gold color of the sun, so bright that it was difficult to look at, and his skin was light enough, that it set him apart from other Ishvalans. Only his eyes, red as the blood that rushed through his veins, identified him easily as one of Trisha's people. Her younger son, Alphonse, took after her more than Edward did. His skin was a warm, rich brown and his hair was pale, though not as pale as most Ishvalans. His golden eyes were the only obvious feature that set him apart from those around him. Those differences, which had the Ishvalans around them turning up their noses in scorn in disgust, might actually allow the Elric boys to survive, if they managed to escape the coming massacre.

The boy pushed himself faster, knowing that he was running out of time to get his family out of the path of the relentless flames. He was so focused on his destination that he didn't notice a spot in the road that had warped and twisted upwards during the initial bombardment by the Amestrians. His foot caught on the edge and he stumbled, crashing hard onto the ground. His hands, which he'd flung out in front of him to stop his descent, skidded across stone, tearing the skin on the heels of his palms. The boy struggled to pull in air to fill his aching lungs only to have what little breath he'd managed to regain come out of him in a gasp when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt. He thrashed weakly, black dots dancing across his vision from lack of air, as he was dragged backwards into a rubble strewn alley between a building that was already blazing and one that hadn't yet caught fire.

Moments after he'd been pulled out of the way, a wave of white hot centered fire blasted down the street in such a way that it would have incinerated the boy had he still been struggling to get off the ground. He gasped, red eyes going wide, and then scrambled to his feet as the building on the other side of him burst into flames, sending shattering glass flying outwards. The heat was unbearable and the boy bolted towards the main road, focusing on escaping the flames. A hand grabbing the back of his shirt again stopped him short, feet slipping out from underneath him. He was dropped and he turned his head to take in the sight of the figure looming over him. It was difficult to tell whether or not the figure was male or female. Its slender form was dressed all in black with dark, spiky strands of what the boy suspected was hair to spread sharp shadows across the alley, flickering in the firelight. The hair was held back by a thick, black sweatband that didn't seem to do much good in controlling the wild strands. Violet eyes gleamed and lips were pulled back just enough to reveal sharp canines.

"Don't be in such a hurry to die, little brother," the figure said with a toothy smile, voice low and vaguely threatening. The boy opened his mouth to protest being called little only to have a hand quickly clapped over his mouth. "Shh, shh," the figure cooed. "You don't want that nasty alchemist to know you're here." The boy whimpered, then watched in frozen silence as a man in military blues with fire spilling from his white gloves, which sparked every time he snapped his fingers, made his way past their hiding spot. The figure waited until the alchemist was out of sight before releasing the boy. "Now run along home," it said, giving the boy a shove that sent him stumbling forward. "You don't want anything to happen to Mommy and little brother." Then the figure leapt away, vanishing across the burning and crumbling rooftops. The boy stared for a moment before the groaning that signaled the building was about to collapse startled him into running again.

The boy shoved his front door opened yelling, "Mom! Mom!"

"Ed!" Trisha Elric had tears in her eyes as she swooped down to pull her oldest son into a quick, tight hug. "You're safe." Her arms trembled when she released him, as if she was barely resisting the urge to cling to him and never let him go.

"Mom, we have to leave now," Ed told her, tugging insistently on her skirt. "The alchemist is coming."

Trisha nodded, nudging Ed forward slightly. "Go get your brother and head outside. I need to grab something and then I'll meet you there in a minute."

Ed nodded and then sprinted into the next room, yelling for his brother. Trisha kept her eyes fixed on the doorway, listening for the sound of the back door slamming. Her ruby eyes welled with tears, shoulders shaking as she silently cried for all that her boys would have to face without her. The world would be a terrible place for two young, half Ishvalan children, even in a world where the order calling for the massacre of all with Ishvalan blood was rescinded, as she knew that it inevitably would. They would struggle just to survive, but Trisha was convinced that any future where her boys might survive would be better than one where they were murdered here, burned alive as a punishment for a crime they'd never committed, all because she was their mother.

She would not be escaping with them. Trisha knew that if she tried to run with the boys then they would all be killed. The alchemist might not stick around to see if anyone attempted to escape from the burning building, but the soldiers following him would be under orders to do so. They would notice that the well maintained Elric home, or what would be left of it, was mysteriously empty by either the lack of screaming or the missing stench of burning corpses and begin searching. Meanwhile, with two small boys in tow, Trisha would not make it far enough to escape the sweeps. The three of them would be shot and killed, their bodies left to rot in the scorching sun. Instead of condemning her sons to that fate, Trisha would remain behind. She would die, leaving her corpse behind to convince the military not to look any closer, and her boys would survive. Maybe they would even stumble across their wayward father one their journey away from Ishval. A bittersweet smile crossing her tear streaked face as she imagined her boys and their father back together again, Trisha turned to face her fate.

A wave of heat made china rattle on the walls and shattered every glass window. The door exploded, splinters having a brief moment to sink into her skin before the flames washed over her. For a brief instant, Trisha felt agonizing pain. Then her awareness drifted away as her charred corpse crumpled to the floor of her blazing home, dissolving into nothing more than ash. Far behind the house, scrambling up a sand dune, two boys froze at the sudden sound. Ed and Al Elric turned and caught sight of the blaze that had once been their home. There was no sign of their mother and, in that moment, they both understood that they were now truly alone. "Mom?" Al whimpered, watery gold eyes focused on the house as his older brother struggled to hold in tears. He would cry later, when they were far away from the foreigners trying to kill them.

"Al, come on. We have to go," Ed insisted, steeling himself and stumbling to his feet. One hand latched onto his younger brother's arm and he tugged, trying to get Al to move.

"But what about Mom?" the younger boy protested, gold eyes welling with tears that hadn't yet spilled over.

"Mom's gone," Ed replied. "And we will be too if we don't hurry."

"We can't just leave her there," Al practically wailed and his older brother cringed, half expecting to see Amestrian soldiers coming after them when he cast a furtive glance down the slope of sand they were perched near the top of.

"We'll go back later, when the soldiers are gone," Ed said, knowing that they would do no such thing and, even if they did, that there would be no body left for them to recover. "If we stay here we're going to die." He tried to tug Al forward again but his little brother seemed frozen in place, red eyes fixed on the blazing wreckage of their childhood home. Ed slumped in the sand, staring miserably at the smoke rising from the town, and then felt a wave of dread wash over him when he noticed there was a single figure standing down the street from the Elric home. He or she was on top of a hill and although it was too far to know for sure, Ed was positive that they were looking right at them. Cold despite the intense heat of the sun, Ed scrambled to his feet and tugged on his little brother's arm again. "Al, please," he begged, sounding so desperate that his brother actually listened. The two of them stumbled to their feet, slipping and sliding over the sandy ridge before tumbling down the valley between the dune they'd been on and the one after it. No one followed, but they ran like all the devils that Ishvala had vanquished were nipping at their heels.