A/N: A short un-beta'd fic based off the prompt 'write a fic using a different POV or tense than you usually use". This is very far outside my comfort zone because it is a) A first-person POV, b) my first FMA fanfic to not include Riza Hawkeye and c) An attempt to write from God's perspective. Anyway, I hope you like it.
I hate those stones. Crimson stones like poison berries, stay away stay away. Trap the souls that should be on the other side. And those made incarnate with borrowed deaths, hate. Hate. Hate.
My stone is much bigger, the stone they walk on. The stone where everything lives. Souls that grow and learn and part of me in each one. A gate for all, to pass when their borrowed atoms are ready to be reshaped. Perhaps not fair person-to-person, but overall the scales balance. I exist because they exist, they pass because I let them. I am the stone that follows the simplest rule - give and take. Everything there already, only to be reshaped, never destroyed never created. Every atom accounted for. I give, I receive, just as they do. Even I am not exempt.
But those stones!
Using those that don't belong the living side of the gate as a loophole, bargaining with someone else's entropy, how dare they? Removing a soul from its conscious vessel into their own. Taking what already belongs to me and using it for themselves. And for what? To stay on my stone, to rule me and lay claim to something that cannot be owned. And nothing I can do, not from here.
The humans are my only hope, and those that know about the soulless creatures have helped them. They have performed the unholy rituals and taken souls, created stones. Everybody wants to take but nobody wants to give what belongs to them in return. Humans want power, ha! As if power is real, quantifiable. As if power is more important than fairness.
Roots grow the opposite way but they still grow. Lovely, twisting roots that anchor themselves, even they cannot hold forever. No death without life, but the opposite is also true. Them, the inhuman, the superhuman, their life depends on the death of thousands, that is not equivalency. They keep them deaths for themselves, that is not equivalency. If everything is taken from one side of the gate, if the scales tip down, if the circle becomes a line, how will that work? How is that fair?
Souls from the red stones don't pass intact. They swirl and melt into each other and when the energy comes to my side it is morphed. Reshaping I can understand but this is different. This is mutilation. I love each soul, they are me, the entropy that cannot be measured. I try ease their suffering when they come to my side. I soothe and I wait until I have enough to make something whole, something painless and beautiful.
What's this?
A new soul comes, intact. A natural death? No. This soul is unconscious, but not restful. Not just a soul, a vessel too. An entire body my side of the gate! Only one way to travel here alive. The forbidden ritual. Almost like last time. Last time, her, she who thought that she could take what belonged to me. That it was hers somehow, by virtue of birthing it. That tiny, precious, perfect soul, so peaceful and whole. She thought she could do better by it. I took from her, took away her organ so she could never assume to own another's soul again. She saw truth but she was blinded by grief. That is equivalency.
This creature must have seen some truth too, before his mind was too full and his body shut down. Such a small body, such a clean soul. Who did you want to take from me and bring back to my stone, little soul? No matter, the price is to be paid. I will take your entire vessel while you are still clean. Perhaps not fair, but you will not be harmed. I will give you peace, little soul. Now what to do with the vessel.
Wait.
Another. So soon? Small too, intact too. But conscious! A strong one. Could he have used the despicable stone? No. He is awake by pure force of will. How interesting!
That means…
He has seen all that passing through the gate can show. He Knows! He doesn't know he Knows, but he has learned. If he were to return, he need only re-learn. Re-learn about the stones, about their terrible cost. Re-learn about the inhuman vultures of death among the living. Would he betray me too? Would he help them for his own gain?
Perhaps not.
Humans crave power, but this is more than human. This is child. A clean soul, and strong enough to Know. This soul does not care for power, only fairness.
I will give him the chance to re-learn, I think. A clean soul keeps the simplest rules. Right and wrong. Fair and unfair. Give and take. Yes, he may be just what I need.
Still.
His first re-lesson is the price to be paid. I will take something small. A limb, something that can be reshaped. Something that will keep his soul clean.
The strong-willed child sways on his feet, confused but alive. I will speak to him! This is not the place for entropy, only light and its absence. I will take shape in shadow.
I take human shape, stay his size. He is still human, he will not comprehend anything less simple. I will be blank, I need only be seen. To be seen, and a mouth to speak.
Stumbling, stumbling through empty space. My space. He should not be here, yet he is.
"Al? Huh? What was I doing again?"
Intact, conscious, clean. I will keep it simple.
HEY
The child barely hesitates, chooses curiosity over fear. "Who are you?"
Ha. This will be interesting.
OH. I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED.
A/N: Follow me on Tumblr at 1st-time-caller if you'd like, I post short unedited pieces there sometimes that I don't put up here. And feel free to send me a message or ask if you want me to respond to a prompt or if you have any questions!