Something Fishy
Prologue: Fire At Will, Though He Had Nothing To With It
The dark slate grey clouds let loose rain that fell in torrents. A thirteen year old boy with light brown hair and blue grey eyes was gleefully
splashing in the puddles that seemed to hang around all year round. Lagging behind, a young man of eighteen with golden hair caught up in
a long tail with dark gold eyes, avoided the puddles and tried to keep out of the rain as much as possible. His eyes warmed as he watched
his brother play, the last time he'd seen Alphonse so happy and carefree was before their mother died.
Al was having fun, delighting in the pounding of the icy rain on his body, the taste of the muddy water that splashed on his face, the stink of
the mud he'd stirred up from the road he ran down. Looking back, he beamed at his big brother, Edward who was following behind him,
trying to stay as dry and clean as possible.
Al's grin turned mischievous as he slowed to let his brother catch up. Ed hated this kind of weather. Judging the distance between him, Ed
and the deep muddy puddle, Al leaped.
It was perfect; the time, the place, the angle. A large spray of dirty muddy, cold wet water headed strait for Ed. Ed's gold eyes widened a
split second before he got hit in the face. Spluttering, Ed stumbled back, tripped and landed on his butt in another puddle. He stared
blandly at his hysterically laughing brother, feeling the cold water soak into his clothes.
Al really should have been expecting that Ed would retaliate, but he caught him off guard in a tackle and they both went sprawling into that
large deep puddle. Using his auto-mail, the mud was just as cold, if not more so, then the water, he scooped up a large handful of mud
and threw it strait into Al's face.
'Take that Al!' Ed grinned triumphantly, only to score a handful of mud in his face. With that, the mud fight commenced.
Al was stoking the fire before he went to bed. Having found the Uranium Bomb, the brothers were now hiding in a remote part of Europe
in a small run down cottage. They'd decided they would try and find a way home without leaving power hungry psychopaths a way to
follow. They'd been living in the cottage for nearly a year now, and had already got a routine down. At this time of night, Al would look
after the fire, and Ed would have his nose in a book.
'Come closer to the fire Brother, you'll ruin your eyes if you keep reading in that kind of light.' Al wasn't surprised when Ed didn't
answer; getting Ed away from books was like sticking your hand in a bee hive and you didn't know if it had been smoked or not.
'It was a good day today, wasn't it?' Al knew if he kept taking, Ed would eventually answer.
Ed looked up from the book and glared at his brother. As with most of their fights, real or otherwise, Al had won.
'Do you have any new ideas on how to get back home brother?' Al continued, now having Ed's attention.
Ed sighed and put the book aside. 'Some. I'll tell you in the morning. We should get some sleep.'
'Sure brother. Good Night.'
