Hello there! I know I should be working on the others, I just couldn't get this one out of my head. This fic is inspired by the Prayer of the Children by Kurt Bestor and FMA:B episode The Ishvalan War of Extermination. This story is basically another of my "What if..."s. What if the war reached and decimated Risembool? This story will answer that question. I will put the verse of the song the chapter is based on at the start of the chapter. This chapter is just set-up, so that's why this chapter's verse makes no sense with its contents. Italics are present day (Ed is telling the story). Enjoy!

I own neither the song nor FMA. Darn

Dali cujete sve djecje molitive?

(Croatian translation: 'Can you hear all the children's prayers?')
Can you hear the prayer of the children?

Prayer of the Children

We were at school when the first shots were heard in Risembool. I knew there was a war going on, but I thought it would never reach there. School ended early that day.

"Brother," Al asked on the walk home, "Will we have to leave?"

Alphonse Elric, in all his 6-year-old cuteness, looked up at Ed with pleading eyes. Edward, Al's 7-year-old brother, continued to stare straight ahead, focusing on the path before him. Ed didn't know. He hoped their mother would tell them it would be alright and they could stay. But Ed knew better. He knew better than to get his hopes up.

"I don't know Al," Ed replied with a twinge of sadness.

Ed wanted to reassure his brother. He truly did. Ed also knew that he could never lie to Al. Ed knew what lying would do to Al and refused to hurt the young boy.

"I hope we don't," Winry, the boys' friend and neighbor who was Ed's age, said, looking at Ed over Al's head, "I like it here."

Since their houses were relatively close, Ed, Al, and Winry would often walk home together. Winry's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Rockbell, had been friends of the boys' mother, Trisha. However, Mr. and Mrs. Rockbell were doctors and the military asked them to help with the soldiers. They died only six months after their departure. Winry cried for days.

More gunshots rang out just then, scaring the crap out of us. We practically ran home after that.

"See you later Winry!" Ed shouted. Winry only waved in response.

"Brother, I don't want to leave," Al cried.

"We're not gonna leave, Al," Ed reassured the boy, "The guns are gonna go away and we'll never hear them again."

"Ok."

The sounds of war only moved closer. School had been suspended indefinitely when more gunshots were heard in the night. Al was too scared to go to school anyway. The farthest we ventured from the house was to go to Winry's. Mom and Granny Pinako seemed to be going and talking privately more often after the first shots sounded through the valley. The three of us were clueless as to why for about two days. Mom and Granny told us their plans after dinner the third night of war.

"We're leaving!?" Winry shouted.

"Winry, calm down," Pinako attempted to calm her granddaughter, "We'll be fine. There's a-"

"Calm down?!" Winry raged, "So, what? We're supposed to leave everything that we have here?"

"Yes," Trisha sternly answered her, no room for argument in the woman's tone or expression.

Winry immediately quieted and sat back down. Ed and Al looked at her sadly.

"As Pinako was trying to say," Trisha continued, "There is a camp just outside East City set up for Amestrians fleeing to safety. It's too dangerous to take the train so we're going to have to hike through the mountains to get there. We leave in two days. I think it best you three start packing. Bring only what you absolutely need, nothing more. We have to carry everything we take."

So we spent the next two days packing and re-packing our stuff. There was so much that we wanted to take, but we knew that taking all of it would be too much. Mom checked over our things and gave her approval after we had our final decisions made. Mom also cut down on the food she gave us in an attempt to save it for the journey.

All through that time, the war got ever closer. Explosions were heard on the fifth day. We saw many people pass our house, which was unusual for our village. We all knew what it meant though. They were leaving, escaping to the safe haven in East City. We were set to leave for East City on the sixth day.

Somehow, there was an air of hope when morning dawned that day. My guess is that we were not worried about the trip and that things would be better when we arrived. Oh, how wrong we were.