Ryulbury
The Elric brothers sat together in a well decorated train cart.
The elder brother, Edward, was fast asleep, spread out in the seat on the right; his golden hair pulled into a braid and his red coat carefully laid over him by his younger brother, Alphonse.
Alphonse sat in the seat across from Ed's and had been watching him sleep for some time now. Long enough to see the drool in his mouth pool and run over the side into the cushion he lay against.
Ed made a soft noise in his dreams, catching Alphonse's attention. He realized then that was the most interesting thing his brother did when he slept.
"I should probably find something else to focus on," he murmured. Then sighed deeply and looked out the train window, past his armor reflection and at the placement of the sun on the horizon. It must have been some time late afternoon, but it didn't surprise Alphonse at all that his brother was still sleeping like a bear; the excitement of the possibility of them finding a philosopher's stone had kept him up late the night before, despite the fact of it being a long shot.
They were going on a rumor about a priest that started a rumor about a family of heretics, (alchemists) who had a powerful but evil object (the philosopher's stone, the assumed) that they used to overrule the laws of god in a little town on the edge of the country they had never before heard of. Overrule the laws of god, Alphonse thought, that's what he and his brother were trying to do since he was eleven.
But Alphonse couldn't afford to get his hopes up too high on such a slim chance. He looked down at his armor hands, he had a lot more to lose than Edward if they were wrong.
Al glanced down at his brother sleeping peacefully once more. After they found a philosopher's stone he would never have to spend another morning like this, cold, unfeeling and completely alone.
One long, boring and lonely half an hour later of Al sitting silently in his thoughts (that wouldn't look at all interesting in print) the train came to a screeching stop. Since Al wasn't focusing on the train he was startled greatly by the sound.
He took a moment to recover before going over to his brother and gently shaking him.
"Brother," he said.
Ed was unresponsive.
"We're here," added Alphonse.
Edward shot out of his seat faster then a speeding bullet and went over to the window, but before looking out of it he turned his head to Alphonse, "How long was I out?"
Al almost burst out laughing.
"What is it?" asked Edward.
Al didn't answer, but in truth he was snickering at the imprint of the embroidered floral pattern of the train cart cushion Edward bore on his cheek from laying against it so long. I took him a long moment to come down from from his laughter enough to answer Ed's first question, "Long enough."
Edward brushed off Al's snickering with a dulled expression before turning his head back to the window.
He wiped the condensation of with his sleeve (though his warm, moist breath alone was enough to create more) and peered out it; he was instantly delighted by what he saw. It was snowing heavily, but since the sun was still shining bright the fallen snow would melt and refreeze into ice, leaving a diamond blanket over the cheerful homes and landscapes.
"Snow!" Edward exclaimed joyfully, "Actual snow!"
He pulled on his coat, grabbed his suit case and practically flew off the train, Alphonse chasing after him. At least, at this point, there wasn't any sort crowd of people left on the train to cut through.
Of course, the moment they got off the train Edward got a reality check. The second his boot hit the actual icy ground of the north he fell on his butt. For running in the north, even if there isn't a big crowd around, is a foolish gesture.
"Brother!" Al exclaimed and went over to him (slowly and carefully), "Are you alright?"
Ed stood and brushed the snow off his buttocks, "Fine," he replied, "just a little bruised."
"You know, brother, it's really not a good idea to run like-" said Alphonse.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," interrupted Edward, dismissing Al's advice with a gesture before pulling his map from his coat. He unfolded it with care and compared the landscape shown on it to the one of the town.
"Wait," he scratched his scalp, he closed the map partially and got a better look at the town, "Al are you sure this is the last stop?"
"Positive," said Al, "it only goes south from here."
Ed looked at his map again, "But, this isn't Ryulbury."
The train conductor was doing doing some basic maintenance when he over heard them, he tucked away his wrench in his tool belt and sat down on the steps going into the train, "You boys are going to Ryulbury?"
"Yeah," said Edward, turning his head to the dirty middle aged man, "why do you ask?"
The conductor looked over them closely, a tall man in a suit of armor and a little boy in fancy white gloves, long well kept hair, and, worst of all a flashy red coat with a symbol typical of an alchemist on the back.
"You boys got a relative up there or something?" he asked.
At least that way they'd have someone to protect them.
"No," they replied.
"Good luck," scoffed the conductor, spitting out the tobacco he'd been chewing.
Ed and Al exchanged curious glances.
"Anyway," said the conductor, clearing his throat, "this is as far as the train goes. No trains go into Ryulbury, but it's about a mile northeast from here."
"Thanks, but-" began Edward, but he was interrupted by the sound of the train doors closing and the train itself going back on the tracks.
They stood there, watching it.
"What do you think he meant by 'good luck'?" asked Edward.
Al shrugged his broad, armor shoulders.
The train conductor watched the silhouette of the two boys disappear behind the falling snow through a train window. He looked away, Those poor fools.
After the train disappeared behind a mountain Edward tucked the map back into the pocket of his coat.
"Well," he said stretching out since he'd spent the majority of the morning in a very unhealthy position, "if Ryulbury is a mile from here we should probably get going."
He ran off in a burst, Al went after him once more.
"Slow down, brother! You're going to fall again!"
Ed looked back, over his shoulder and told Alphonse to shut up, but to do so he had to take his eyes off his footing. He slipped on the ice again and slid into a tree, the impact knocked the snow off the lower branches.
Edward lay on the ground, under about a foot of snow.
"Maybe we should hail a cab," he suggested after spitting up a bit of snow.
"Told ya'," said Alphonse.
"Shut up!" shouted Edward. The force of his voice caused more snow to fall from the tree until only a little strand of his gold hair could be seen.
Alphonse laughed before helping him out of the snow.
"Are you sure we should hail a cab?" he asked Ed, "I mean, that might take a while."
"Come on, Al," said Edward with a confident smile, brushing the snow off himself, "how long could it take?"
Later...
"WE'VE BEEN SITTING HERE FOR OVER AN HOUR!" exclaimed Edward in impatience and boredom, "And we still haven't seen a single car!"
"That's what I was trying to tell you," said Alphonse, trying to keep frustration out of his tone, "I don't think cars work this far north."
Edward's face dropped, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I tried!" snapped Alphonse, but before their fight could ensue he caught sight of a horse drawn cart.
"Hey," he said, "maybe he'll give us a ride."
Edward made a face, "In his cart?"
Al stood up, "Beats walking," he said and started to go over to the front of the cart.
Edward shrugged, "When you're right you're right," he said. He got up as well and went after Alphonse.
By the time he reached him he had already gotten to the driver.
"Excuse me, sir," said Alphonse, waving his hand to catch the driver's attention, "but could you give us a ride?"
The driver smiled kindly, "Sure, where are you boys headed? Briggs?-Drachma?-"
"Ryulbury," panted Edward.
The driver's smile disappeared instantly, "Why on earth would you want to go there?"
"It's a secret," said Edward hastily putting his arm out in front of Alphonse before he had a chance to tell the old driver the truth.
The driver gave them a suspicious cross glance before looking away, "Fine," he said very reluctantly, "get in the back. I'll take you to the village's outer limits, but that's as far as I go; from there you're on your own."
"Thank-you," said Alphonse as Edward went to the back of the cart. Then went after him, but they were both startled once they had looked under the tarp that covered the cart.
"Sheep!" Ed exclaimed, startling the sheep so their bleating only got louder.
"Beats walking," said Alphonse again before getting up into the cart.
Edward shielded his nose and mouth before fallowing, resting on the side by his brother.
He thought about the driver's original question as he heard him snap his whip and felt the cart pull off,
'Where are you boys headed? Briggs?-Drachma?-'
Drachma, he thought, the cart driver had offered to take them out of the country, but he didn't seem to want to go any where near Ryulbury, Even if no one down south had never heard of it it seemed pretty infamous among the people who actually lived up here. It made him wonder what kind of place were he and his brother headed to.
The trip into Ryulbury only took about a half an hour, but to them it seemed to take hours. Especially for poor Edward, who was truly beginning to loath sheep. They wouldn't stop bleating during the whole trip and one of them peed on his leg.
"Thanks for the ride, sir!" Al said politely to driver as he and his brother got off the cart.
"You're welcome," said the cart driver, his smile finally returning, "just be careful inside Ryulbury, okay?"
"Sure thing," said Alphonse.
The cart driver looked them up and down, "In fact, I suggest a change in clothes."
"Why?" asked Edward.
"That kind of apparel isn't exactly welcomed with open arms in Ryulbury."
"Okay," said Edward, a bit confused.
"Well," said the cart driver, "I must be off."
He snapped the reigns of his cart, the horse galloped off, pulling the cart behind.
"Thank goodness," Edward released his breath after the cart was out of smell shot, "we're finally away from those horrible sheep."
"It wasn't that bad," said Alphonse.
"Easy for you to say," remarked Edward, "you couldn't smell them."
Edward tugged on his collar and looked over his apparel, "Where do you think we could get some new clothes?"
Al looked over the town; it was completely different from the town the previously visited. It was a bleak place, the buildings were crumbled and no people were on the streets. The only well kept buildings as far as they could see were a huge church and a neighboring factory that made the snow itself grey.
"I don't know," he said, "this entire place seems abandoned."
"There!" said Edward suddenly, pointing at a little shop sandwiched between two larger, but more crumbled buildings.
"Let's check it out," said Edward and he ran off into the shop, but for the first time he didn't fall on his butt.
Alphonse shuffled behind him, sighing; when he finally got into the shop Ed was already holding shirts to his chest and reviewing the in a mirror.
"Everything's so dull," he remarked.
Al shrugged, "When in Rome.
With those words the shop keeper caught sight of him and was a tad unsettled by his size and his armor, "Who-who's your large friend?" he asked Edward.
"Huh?" said Edward, for he had very much been focusing on the look of the clothes in the mirror, "Oh, that's my little brother, Alphonse."
The shop keeper looked back over at Alphonse, who waved, Little-?
Edward took a bundle of clothes and went over to the changing rooms, "I'm going to try these on," he told Alphonse, "wait here."
He went into the the changing room, leaving Alphonse alone with the shop keeper. And the way he kept looking at him made him very uncomfortable.
"Is there anything I can get you, sir?" the shop keeper asked him hesitantly, rubbing his arm very awkwardly.
"No, I-I'm good," said Alphonse, he pointed to the changing rooms, "besides, we're mostly here for him."
The shop keeper nodded thoughtfully and walked away.
A few moments later Edward stepped out of the changing rooms. He was dressed in beige pants with brown suspenders and a loose peasant shirt.
"How do I look?" he asked.
"Boring," remarked Alphonse.
The shop keeper's opinion, however, was completely contrary, "A vast improvement, even if I do say so myself," he went up to Edward and fixed his crooked collar, "it's a bit big on you though."
Edward's face flushed red hot but he tried hard not to yell at the ignorant shop keeper, "I'll grow into it."
"If you say so," said the shop keeper before going over to the front desk.
After he had calmed down a bit Edward went over to the desk and bought the clothes he had tried on.
It was Al's turn to find some 'normal people' clothes. He tried on a hat and tie, but a dressed up suit of armor is still a suit of armor.
"Maybe if you took the armor off-" suggested the shop keeper.
"I can't," said Al hastily.
"Why?" asked the shop keeper.
"It's a part of my training-" began Alphonse until he noticed Ed's rapid gestures from behind Edward.
Oh, right! remembered Alphonse, Ed doesn't want anyone to know we're alchemists. That excuse won't work here.
The shop keeper was a tad confused, "What?"
Al thought for a moment until he got ea new idea, "I've got really bad burn scars all over my body, it's really humiliating," he removed the hat and tie and handed them to the shop keeper, "but, you're right, this does just look silly."
He handed them to the shop keeper and started to go over to the door with Ed.
"Oh, well," said the shop keeper, hanging the tie and hat up, "thanks for your business."
"You're welcome," said Edward hollowly before leaving with his little brother, the clothes he had been wearing before tucked in his suit case.
"Weirdos," muttered the shop keeper to himself after they had left.
"Well," said Edward, "now that we have the proper attire we can check out the church."
"That's if they're still open," said Alphonse, "it is pretty late."
They arrived at the church.
"Let's check," suggested Edward, he ran up the frosty steps- he slipped once, but recovered before looking through one of the stain glass church windows.
"It looks open," he said, "the lights are on."
"I don't know," said Alphonse, "I'm not getting a good vibe from this place."
"Of course you are," said Edward, pulling back from the glass, "if you weren't it couldn't be a church."
He meant that as no insult to Al, and he knew it. In fact Alphonse knew exactly who Edward was trying to insult with those words.
They went into the church slowly and hesitantly like the outsiders they knew they were. The place had seemed usual enough from the outside; it was a large building the color of ivory with the stained glass windows and a black tiled roof covered in snow- but the inside, that was a different matter all together. It looked almost normal, but the atmosphere was more than a tad unsettling.
The room they came into was dimly lit orange by oil lamps that intensified the eyes of the pictures and statues of their god they had hung everywhere, gawking down at the two brothers with the eyes of judgement.
And they weren't the only ones, the moment the Elric brothers walked in everyone stopped and stared directly at them.
"Okay," said Al slowly, a bit frightened.
"Don't let it bother you," said Edward through the teeth of a forced smile, "just keep smiling."
He went up closer to the priest.
"Easy for you to say," murmured Alphonse before walking slowly after him, (it's disrespectful to run in
a church) the eyes of the church goers unblinkingly piercing through them.
The priest closed the holy book he'd been reading aloud from as they approached him. He was a tall, surprisingly young man with short blond hair, standing charismatic and proud on a pedestal above all of his followers.
Including us, thought Edward, the very idea of it made him shudder.
"Ah," said the priest, returning the holy book to his robe's inner pocket, "we have new comers to the church."
"We are-" began Edward.
The priest raised his hand in a stop motion, "Hush, boy," he said slowly, "there's no need for that, only enemies of god have names here. Now are you two enemies of god?"
Yes, thought Edward, of course, he didn't say that, if he did they would probably kill them both and use their blood to baptize children; not a favorable scenario.
"No."
"Then you no longer need names, you are a part of us and the great lord himself," he looked into the small mirror above him like the light coming from it was more than just a reflection from the lamps around him.
Some how I doubt that, thought Edward.
"From this moment forward," continued the priest, looking down from the mirror, "you shall be known as 102 and 103."
"Which ones which?" asked Alphonse.
"It does not matter," said the priest, "the number just means you are one of us. It has nothing to do with who you are."
He'd never admit it to his brother, but he was a little hurt, "Oh."
the priest lifted his holy book up, in front of his face again, "What do you truly hope to gain from this venture?" he asked them.
Neither of them were truly prepared for that question, but Al, in his honest innocence almost told him the truth, Edward cut him off just in time.
"Just god and religion," he said.
"What?" murmured Al.
"And how long will you be staying with us?" asked the priest.
"As long as it takes," said Edward with a smile. That was true enough.
"Well, if that turns out to be a long time I have to ask you, 103," he set down his holy book, "to remove your helmet."
So that's which one I am, thought Al, "I'm sorry, Father, but I can't do that."
"It's disrespectful to wear something associated with combat in the presence of god," said the priest.
"I know, but..." Al rubbed the back of his helmet, "I have burn scars all over my body- my face especially, it's really embarrassing and disgusting to look at. It would probably upset the other members of the church."
The priest made a soft noise deep in his throat, almost a growl, "Very well, take a seat and we'll continue."
"Where?" asked Al, "All the seats are already taken."
That they were, but the church hadn't been over crowded until they intruded upon it, it had been at the exact capacity, not one over or under- not until they intruded.
The priest chuckled softly, "Of course!" he exclaimed, slapping his forehead, "Number three, could you please get out a couple of chairs for 102 and 103?"
A girl in the front row, 'number 3' stood up and bowed in the manner of a servant, "Yes, Father Malik," she said and walked off.
How come he gets to keep his name? wondered Edward, although, he was pretty sure he knew the answer.
The girl, 'number 3' returned a moment later with two fold out chairs and they were finally able to get a good look at her; she was a small girl with flaxen ponytails, deep brown eyes and other soft features, in a small summer dress despite the cold, she looked like the sort of innocent half grown boys dream of but never get.
She set the fold out chairs up, gesturing Edward and Alphonse to sit with a small hand before returning to her own seat. They were a bit hesitant to listen, though.
"Go on," said Father Malik, "take a seat."
Ed and Al obeyed.
"Does anyone remember where we left off?" asked Father Malik.
Number 3's hand shot up.
"Ah, yes, number three, where did we leave off?" asked Father Malik.
Three lowered her hand an mechanically replied, "We were discussing the heretics of the world."
Pretty though she may be, Edward knew she was no different than anyone else in this church.
"Correct," said Father Malik as if he'd known the answer all along and only wanted to check if they were paying attention, "we discuss them often because they are everywhere," his cheerful- even if a tad
disturbing demeanor darkened instantly, "we live in a country of heretics."
Ed's eyes widened, only then did he truly begin to realize the type of church he and his brother had trapped themselves.
The other church goers clapped in agreement with Father Malik.
Al hesitantly raised his hand.
"Yes, 103?" asked Father Malik.
"I-umm... I was just wondering what you meant by that."
"We live in a country that rewards people's choosing of the devil's path in the form of paying state alchemists for their tainted research," recited the priest.
The other church goers booed as they always did, Edward and Alphonse, however, only sat there.
"Alchemy distorts things from there original form," Father Malik continued his rant, "the form which god intended! And who else would want that but the devil?"
"No one!" shouted the voices of the daily church goers.
Isn't it disrespectful to shout in church? Thought Edward, grinding his teeth.
"Right!" said Father Malik, "And some alchemists even have the sheer arrogance to try and mess with the most sacred of all god's creations, the human body. They commit human transmutation and pay no cost for it.
No cost? Edward squeezed his auto mail knee so hard that even through his pants it cut into his hand, NO COST?
Edward thought about the night he and his brother committed the taboo of human transmutation. They
weren't devil worshipping heathens as Malik seemed to think; they were two scared little boys who wanted their mommy back, for she had died of illness. Ed and Al used alchemy to try and bring her back to life, but they failed. The thing the created... wasn't even human, and even that failure came at a great cost. In order to create that creature Ed's leg was taken and Al... But the most precious thing they lost that night was their innocence. They knew the truth and the were damned, they would never be able to return to being little boys again...
And there Father Malik stood, acting as if he and every other alchemist who had made that choice enjoyed it!
Edward had to lower his head to prevent the father from seeing the look of anger and hatred that came across his face with those thoughts.
"Some people," said father Malik, "and even a few select churches will tell you that alchemy is only evil when used for evil purposes, they are all wrong. What I am telling you is the only truth, there are no good reasons for distorting god's plan."
Even if his plan is to let everyone die and ruin your life? wondered Edward.
"All alchemy is the same, as are all alchemists and each and every one of them has damned themselves
forever."
Edward had closed his eyes, trying to shut out his surroundings as much as possible, but he forced himself to look up when father Malik started to give out specifics.
"Our own Violet Flamel is proof of this, alchemy has brought her family nothing but misfortune," he said, "the Flamel family has lived here for 7 generations and each has left more destruction in their wake than the last-tell me, is that something are god could ever forgive?"
"NO!" everyone around Edward and Alphonse shouted together.
"Violet herself lives alone, away from the church and away from god, because she desperately fears them both."
I can't imagine why, thought Edward sarcastically, they both are so kind to her.
"But can we truly blame her?" asked father Malik, "All alchemists fear god, so it shouldn't surprise us that someone who has the amount of Satan himself pumping through her veins in place of human blood
from her murderous forefathers," hate became an ugly expression glued on his once inviting face, "I think it's safe to say no amount of holy water could wash the blood off her hands. For she, like all other alchemists has the hands of the devil."
Al noticed early on the anger swelling in his brother, but didn't dare to confront him for fear something as small as tapping his shoulder would set him off. But at this point, as father Malik droned on with his rant about alchemists being the devil's friends and family Ed looked less than a degree below his boiling point. So Alphonse set his hand gently atop his and when he looked up at him he gave him a nod to remind him to stay calm. Edward returned his nod to tell him that she understood.
Both Edward and Alphonse managed to survive the rest of the sermon without loosing their tempers, but they were both shaking.
Around seven the sermon had ended and the church goers began to leave, Edward and Alphonse included.
"Three," said father Malik, "could you help and clean up before you go?"
Three stopped walking and bowed, "Yes, father Malik."
She got down on her hands and knees and began to clean, drying the carpet of melted snow with a small cloth and using the water to rinse off the soot stains. Ed and Al walked past her as they were leaving. They were talking to each other, having a simple little conversation-wait, what did 102 just say?
"It took every ounce of my will not to use my alchemy."
3 gasped smally, watching them out of the corner of her eye until moment they had left the church. The second they were out she stood up and ran over to father Malik.
"What's got you so spooked, 3?" he asked her.
She knew it was disrespectful to grab a priest in such a manner, but she grabbed father Malik by his collar, pulled him close to her and whispered, "102 and 103 are alchemists!"
The father's eyes widened and his expression hardened, "I see."
Edward and Alphonse were half way down the church steps when father Malik burst through the church doors.
"102, 103!" he said loudly but friendlily, they turned around when they heard his voice, "may I speak to you two alone for a moment?"
"Sure," said Edward, "I don't see why not."
Father Malik smiled.
He lead the two brothers to a room hidden behind a tapestry in the main one where he held his usual sermons, it contained nothing but three chairs, a flickering fireplace and a small metal table with a basket of wood beside it.
"Have a seat," said father Malik.
Ed and Al hesitantly obeyed.
Father Malik sat down himself after whispering something into three's ear that made her eyes widen with horror, but then, as usual, she bowed and left to do his bidding.
Edward cleared hit throat to brake the awkward silence, "So, father, what did you want to talk to us about?"
Father Malik grabbed some kindling from the basket beside him and threw it into the fire, "You two seemed especially affected by today's sermon."
"We're just new to some of your church's customs," said Edward hastily.
"I imagine so," muttered father Malik.
"Huh?" asked Ed.
"Nothing," said father Malik. He rubbed his brow with his fingers anxiously, "So," he said "where are you two boys from? I haven't seen you around Ryulbury before."
"Well, we're actually from the south," said Alphonse.
"And what brought you this far north?" asked father Malik.
Ed and Al looked at each other, "What's this all about?" asked Edward.
At that moment three returned holding a branding stick, a daunted look in her brown eyes.
"A distraction," replied Father Malik slowly as Ed and Al were seized from behind by two muscular men. He stood up, laughing cruelly, "did you really think you could fool me? Messenger of god!"
He patted Edward's cheek.
Edward immediately began to squirm in his holder's grip, now that father Malik knew the truth he didn't have to hold back.
"Messenger of god!" he shouted, "Preaching hate to children? Forcing people to give up their identities? How come is it, that you, the person supposedly closest to god, get's to keep your name?"
For a moment Father Malik did nothing, but then he smacked Edward so hard with the back of his hand that his head snapped back. 3 winced, but didn't dare to come out of her corner and face father Malik for what he was doing.
"I didn't keep my name, you filthy heretic!" said father Malik, "I was the first priest's assistant, and for most of my life I was referred to as number 2, until the last priest was slaughtered by the likes of you creatures,"-at that moment he smacked Ed again, so hard this time blood ran down his mouth, three clutched and twisted the bottom of her dress-"I took his name and became the new priest, so that my master could live on through me."
"You mean so you could take revenge on all alchemists for what happened," mumbled Edward, panting softly from the physical abuse, "I wish I could say I didn't believe it... Using a real family to justify your religious doctrine."
"Trust me," said father Malik, he walked over to number three and yanked the branding stick from her nervously clenched hands, he then walked over to the fire and stared at it a long moment before sticking the tip of the branding stick into it, "there is nothing real about Violet Flamel or her heretical family."
"Please," said number three softly, stepping forward and finally daring to speak her mind, "he's only a child."
Father Malik had said something similar to his master once in a similar set of circumstances, She's only a child.
The very thought that he could have been so naive made him utterly furious, "It doesn't matter!" he screamed at 3, "Children can serve the devil as well as adults!"
"But, father-"
"Shut up!" he swung at her so hard he sent her to floor, sobbing.
The cross shaped tip of the branding stick began to glow bright red from the heat of the fire. Father Malik pulled it out and made a gesture with his head to the men holding Edward and Alphonse.
The one holding Edward tore his shirt up at the neck, showing the seam of his auto mail arm where it connected to his shoulder. The one holding Alphonse jerked off his helmet, he let go immediately afterward. Father Malik gasped, 3 screamed.
"The armor's empty!"
That it was, for the cost Alphonse had payed to create the creature that was supposed to have been their
mother was his entire body. In fact, the only reason he was still around at all was because Edward had sacrificed his right arm to save him; he drew a seal with his own blood to bond Al's soul to a suit of armor.
Edward pulled away from his holder who was shocked by the empty armor, "Do you see the cost of human transmutation now, Malik?" he asked.
Father Malik only stood there, the branding stick in his right hand, his mouth open wide, shaking all over.
"Demons!" he screamed suddenly and swung his branding stick at Edward. Al grabbed him and took the brand himself- he couldn't feel it without a proper body anyway. As he did that Edward slipped out of his brother's arms, coming around quickly as he gave father Malik a hard right hook in the face- this hurt especially because that fist was auto mail, solid steel, knocking him into the carpet.
"And by the way," Edward said to father Malik in the few moments before he passed out, "my name is not 102," he smirked, "it's Edward Elric, the fullmetal alchemist, enemy of god!"
As Edward did that, Alphonse went past the two men who had seized him and his brother and over to number three, who hadn't left the floor or stopped weeping since father Malik struck her.
"Are you okay?" Alphonse asked her.
On hearing his voice 3 sat up and backed away until she hit the wall.
Alphonse walked up to her in the most gentle and nonthreatening way one can when they are in a open, empty suit of armor, "I wasn't going to hurt you, I just wanted to know if you were-" he reached down to help her up.
She batted his hand away and shielded her face,"Stay away from me!"
"But I-" began Alphonse, until he caught sight of his own reflection in her eyes. At that moment he could see himself through her eyes, he hated it.
"C'mon, Al," said Edward, suit case in hand he tossed Al his helmet, "she isn't worth it."
Al looked at three again, weeping harder than ever, before putting on his armor head back on his shoulders, sighing, "No, I suppose she's not."
He stood up and started to leave the backroom, once they were a decent distance number three crawled along the floor to father Malik. She studied his face closely, cradling her unconscious abuser in her lap, the tears still flowing. Questions racing through her mind: Why did it have to be like this? Why was the father like this? Who could she blame? There was an answer to that question.
Ed and his brother were almost out of the room when they heard a harsh voice behind them.
"You!"
They made the mistake of looking back, it was number three, of course. Her eyes were still tear filled but glazed over with hate. Edward looked away.
"Look at me you filthy heretic!" shouted number three, "This is all your fault! It's you alchemists who made him like this! Who made him angry, who made him hate!"
Edward's eyebrows furrowed, he resisted the urge to fling insults back, "Is that what you really believe?" he asked, his voice low.
"Of course!" she shouted, "Because it's true! Father Malik was right all along about you, all of you! He said that you're inhuman, that you don't value human life. Well, just look at yourselves! You aren't even human anymore!"
Al gasped, Edward's pupils dilated with anger, his voice actually shook, "If that's what you really believe, then your hopeless."
With those words he left the church with his brother, leaving the priest unconscious, the missionaries whimpering and the priest's assistant, three, teary and fuming.
Just another typical day at the church, thought Edward as they went down the last church step and into the icy road.
"Now let's get that awful thing off your back," said Edward, Alphonse turned around, showing the cross father Malik had singed into his armor.
Edward pressed his hands together, then to Al's back, transmutating the metal thinner to smooth out the mark.
"That's better," said Edward, he pulled away, opened his suit case and pulled out his bright red coat and put it on to cover the dull clothes he'd only put on to fit in- only to fit in.
"Well," he said, "one good thing did come out of this."
"What?" asked Alphonse.
"We've got a name now," replied Edward, "Violet Flamel, she's the only name Malik gave so I assume the rumors are about her."
"I suppose," sighed Alphonse, he looked over at the sun, "you know, brother, it's getting late, we should probably get a hotel room and look for her in the morning."
Ed nodded in agreement and off they went, but the only thing they could find within a mile radius outside of Ryulbury was a little, run down, motel. They checked in, the manager was a tad surprised that they wanted a room with just one bed but said nothing. As judgemental as he was, business was business, even if it was to a pedophile gay couple.
Once they were in their room Edward shuffled straight to bed, this was probably for the best because his surroundings were revolting.
"Good night, Al," he said to Alphonse before turning off the light, kicking off his boots and collapsing into bed.
"Good night, brother," said Alphonse softly.
Edward thought about father Malik again, And some alchemists even have the arrogance to commit human transmutation and pay no cost for it.
No cost, thought Edward, that's a laugh. He closed his eyes and his mind slid directly into reliving that night.
He remembered adding the ingredients that make up a human body onto the transmutation circle. Then he and Al, when they were still just little boys, cut open one of their fingers and let the blood drip onto the middle of the transmutation circle, for they both had the D.N.A. of their mother.
"You ready, Al?" he asked his little brother.
"As I'll ever be," said Al.
And they did it, they pressed their hands together and then to the transmutation circle, but the light from the transmutation didn't stop at the ingredients they had laid out- it spread to each of them.
"No!" exclaimed Edward, "A backfired transmutation!"
After that everything went black.
Edward awoke in a strange, white place with a human shaped blank canvas.
"Tsk, tsk," it said suddenly.
Edward's eyes widened, "Who are you?"
"I'm the only thing in the world that's real. I'm the truth behind all the lies," it chuckled conceitedly again, "but you can just call me god."
"What do you want- where's Alphonse, what did you do with him?"
It chuckled conceitedly again, "That's for me to know and for you to find out."
It waved it's hand and a huge stone door appeared behind Edward, "I'll see you on the other side."
It snapped it's fingers and the door swung open, long, black arms shot out of it, grabbing Edward and dragging him inside.
The moment after that was even stranger, he found himself in a place where all the knowledge of the world swirled around him like rolls of film, pouring into his head. Just when he thought he could take no more and began to scream, "It-it's too much!" he found himself on the other side, back with emptiness that called itself god.
Edward pressed his hands to the door, "All the answers are in here, aren't they? All the secrets to human transmutation- everything..."
He turned to god, "Please, I'd like to see it again."
"Sorry," it said, it's smile widened into a grin, "but you've seen as much as I can show you for the toll you've payed."
"Toll," repeated Edward, "what to-" his eyes grew wide with terror as his left leg began to flake apart and blow away, each part that disappeared reappeared on the blank slate where it used to be on Ed.
Before Edward had a chance to protest he awoke in reality, his leg was gone and he was bleeding everywhere, but that wasn't what he really cared about. What he was really afraid of was the possibility
he might be all alone.
"Mom! Alphonse!" he wept, "Somebody please help me!"
He managed to force his head up off the ground and looked at the transmutation circle where his mother should have sat. But what he actually saw, would give him nightmares for the rest of his life.
The creature they had created had four arms, black, leather skin and hair and all sunken in as if it was already dead and no pupils to the eyes. She made one and only one attempt to take a breath, but all that came out was her own blood. She bled herself to death in seconds this way.
"Mo-om?" Edward whispered, he was so afraid it hurt to speak, tears came into his eyes, "This—this wasn't supposed to happen-"
No, he couldn't waste his time mourning, he had to find Alphonse.
"Alphonse! Alphonse, where are you? Say something!"
He crawled around on the floor, through the blood of the creature and leaving a trail of his own behind him from his leg, searching for his little brother that was no where to be found, but he might have kept searching until he bled to death if he hadn't come across Al's clothes.
"Alphonse," he wept harder, "no, not Alphonse..."
He buried his face into his baby brother's clothes and wept harder than he ever remembered weeping.
He was going to die here, cradling his brother's clothes, he thought, and for a moment he almost submitted to that thought, until he noticed a fallen suit of armor beside him out of the corner of his eye. He threw down Alphonse's clothes and forced himself over to it, determined now more than ever.
Once he got there he jerked the helmet off and dipped his pointer finger in the blood coming from what was left of his leg.
"No, not Alphonse, not either of us!" he drew a blood seal inside the armor, "Please, he's my little brother, he's all I have left! Take my leg, take my arm, take my heart! Just give him back!"
He pressed his hands together.
It took his right arm but he got Alphonse back.
Edward opened his eyes a crack, There's always a cost, nothing comes for free.
He looked over at his little brother, unable to sleep because he had no flesh body to rest, And Alphonse payed a dear one.
Alphonse turned his head to Edward when he noticed that he was still awake, "Edward," he said, he only called Ed by his name when he was really upset, "did you say you were an alchemist in front of number three on purpose?"
"I wanted to see what they did to alchemists," said Edward, he couldn't bring himself to lie to Alphonse right now.
He turned away, "Oh."
Edward rolled over, he thought about the way number three had cringed and pulled away from Alphonse, called him inhuman, he knew that that had shaken him, reminded him of what he was.
Don't worry, Alphonse, thought Edward, once we find a philosopher's stone no one will ever look at you like that again, I promise.
The next morning he and Alphonse set out to look for Violet Flamel, but it was different now. Since the incident with father Malik they were no longer seen as strangers; they were seen as monsters.
Ed knew they would be outcasts here from the beginning, but as they stared at him and his little brother like demons on earth and his fists clenched, he would never accept.
Close minded bigots, he thought.
"What kind of alchemist would live in a place like this?" muttered Edward through his teeth.
A desperate one.
Al shrugged, "Maybe father Malik made the whole thing up, he did say there was nothing real about them."
"I guess that's a possibility," said Edward, "but I sincerely doubt it,"-he tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat- "priests don't usually make up people to hate," he chuckled wryly, "they just make up people to believe in."
"Well," said Alphonse, "we've been walking around for over an hour now looking for her, I think it's time we asked for directions." He should have remembered from number three's reaction how people here thought of people like them.
Ed was about to explain why that was a bad idea, but before he had a chance to protest Al stopped a young woman on the street.
"Ma'am, could you tell us where Violet Flamel lives, please?" he asked quite politely.
The woman's response, however, was not as courteous.
She screamed, "Monster!" smacking him so hard in the face with her purse she sent him to the ground before running away.
"Wha-what was that for?" asked Alphonse, the woman didn't answer.
Edward winced and went over to him, "I tried to warn you," he said, "Malik is probably already spreading rumors about us."
Alphonse stood up, sighing, "I know, but you gave your real name to father Malik and introduced yourself as an enemy of god, how come no one hit you in the face with their purse?"
"Sorry Al," said Edward, rubbing the back of his neck, "but my face just isn't as recognizable as yours."
Al sighed again, "I guess you're right."
"So we agree that I should probably do all the talking?" said Edward.
"Sure," Al agreed.
Edward took a step forward. When he heard Alphonse's footsteps behind him he sighed deeply and turned around, "Without you, Al."
Al tried not to sound hurt, "Oh," he failed.
"Sorry Al," he said again, "but no one will talk to me if you're standing behind me. It's just until we find out where Violet Flamel lives, I doubt she goes to the church."
"Meet back here once you've found her?" suggested Alphonse, brightening slightly.
"Count on it," said Edward with a smile before running off.
"Don't run, brother, you'll fall!" Al shouted after him and was returned with a distant,
"Shut up!"
Al smiled inside himself and found a place to sit on the tagged and frozen solid, fountain in town square. He sighed gently and closed his eyes, patiently awaiting his brother's return.
Edward ran through the slippery, ice covered streets of Ryulbury, searching for someone to ask about
Violet but that crazy lady who hit Al with her purse seemed to be the only one around.
Everyone was either at church or at home, it gave the town an abandoned feeling. And without Alphonse beside him he was beginning to feel all alone in a ghost town, the abandoned buildings everywhere didn't help.
The only noise that could be heard was the sound of the nearby factory's huge machinery at work and his own footsteps on the ice.
"There's just nothing here," he said to himself. That was the moment he realized why this town was the
way it was; there was no education here, no transportation in or out, it was completely cut off from the rest of the country. People came here would only come here because they didn't have any where else to go.
"What kind of alchemist has no where to go in Amestris?" he wondered.
Ed was just about to give up on his search when he noticed a little old lady in a floral dress and afghan
returning home early from church
He ran over to her and tapped her shoulder gently.
"What is it, little one?" she asked, slowly and clumsily turning around to face him.
"Is that a short joke?" accused Edward.
The old lady seemed genuinely confused, "What?" she asked, struggling to hear him she cupped her hand to her ear.
"I-I was just wondering if you knew where Violet Flamel lives?" he stammered.
She definitely heard that, her sunken eyes widened and her mouth fell open, suspicion creeping into her tone, "Why would you want to know that, little one?"
Edward thought up a lie quickly, "I was thinking about throwing a brick through her window," he said, "gotta show these heretics we mean business."
The old woman nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, like those two demons who broke into the church a few days ago," she looked over at the church, "poor father Malik, he invited them back after the sermon for a cup of tea and out of the blue they tried to kill him and his assistant. That's what happens when you try and speak the truth, I suppose."
Edward halfheartedly feigned agreement, "Yeah."
The old woman turned slowly back to Edward, thoughtfully stroking her afghan, "But Violet's much worse than those two were."
"Ah," said Edward dismissively, "how bad can she be?"
The old woman looked both ways and leaned close, "Look, you seem like a good boy."
He wished her thinking that after he said he wanted to throw a brick through Violet's window surprised him.
"So be a good boy and listen to your elders, Violet isn't just any old heretic. Horrible things happen to people who cross her or even go near her. She's a sick, demented woman, she doesn't care about or respect anything and fears nothing. She'd kill her own mother if she came too close! I don't want to see you get hurt so take my advice and pray you never cross paths with Violet Flamel." And with that, she hobbled away.
Edward just stood there for a long moment. He couldn't say what she said surprised him, father Malik had said worse about Violet, but still... the thought of either of them being right terrified him.
Edward talked to several other residents in town throughout the afternoon, but they all had the same reaction when Violet's name came up, complete and total terror, even people who weren't church regulars.
He really began to doubt the wisdom of coming here. Many alchemists were prosecuted as devils- him included, but not like this.
Edward sat down on the steps going into what remained of an old abandoned building, rubbing his temples with a glove covered hand.
"What kind of horrible things does this alchemist do?" he wondered, "This whole thing could be a suicide mission."
He'd heard of truly awful alchemists- of what alchemy can really do when used for truly evil purposes, but even in all his adventures as a state alchemist he'd never encountered one in real life. And if she really did have a philosopher's stone it would be worse then anything he'd ever encountered before.
Edward was on the verge of giving up completely when he remembered the tone of shame that came into his brother's voice when he saw his bodiless reflection in 3's eyes, and the promise he'd made to him, Don't worry Al, as soon as we find a philosopher's stone no one will ever look at you like that again.
Edward pounded the ice that blanketed the step he sat on ground so hard with his auto mail fist that it split and shattered, "I don't give a damn who she is," his voice quaked with emotion as he stood up, "she could be the devil himself for all I care! As long as there's a chance she has a philosopher's stone that's all that matters!"
He ran off faster than ever, the fire for this search beyond restored. But he should have heeded Al's warning, for he had scarcely traveled a yard before he slipped on the ice and slid into a poor passerby carrying her groceries. They spilt everywhere as they flung back from one another.