Hey guys! This little story makes me reflect on... everything really. It's kind of healing. I didn't really think that writing fanfiction would make me feel like that. I write all the time just for myself, but for some reason, this comes so much easier. It's a weird thing, and as this is not my diary, I won't write much more about that.
Revisited on the 24th of May, 2019.
Alphonse Elric sat by himself under one of Risembool's many large chestnut trees. Nearby was the remains of the house his brother and himself had grown up in. The branches of the old tree hung near the ground, worn out by the weight of the years.
The big suit of armor clutched his pointy knees tightly to his chest plate and sighed.
...at least, he imitated the sound of one. He hadn't drawn a breath into his lungs for the past seven months. He didn't have the need to breathe anymore, now that he possessed no inner organs with the need for oxygen.
A gust of wind rustled through the trees and the boy trapped in the suit of armor tried to imagine that he felt it brush against his chrome skin. His body was so big now. So burly and scary. That was not how the 11-year-old felt on the inside.
-His hollow empty insides-
He chuckled as a thought struck him. He really wished that they had a little sister. Not like Winry, but a real one that had lived with them inside the burned-down house they used to call home.
She would probably have had many dolls, that Edward could have transmuted his soul into, instead of this giant piece of metal. A small and fragile porcelain doll, that would be carefully handled with gentle hands.
But that was not the reality of his situation. The two boys hadn't even really owned any toys. They had been too busy studying alchemy since their father left and their mother died. Playing had not been a part of their lives in such a long time.
'This is stupid', Alphonse Elric thought. He should be grateful that he was alive at all. He should be grateful that he could not feel pain, like his brother who was lying in bed most of the day with half of his limbs gone did.
Edward was in pure agony all the time and absolutely refused to show it. Only his older brother would feel guilty about being in pain. And, here Al sat, wishing he could feel it too.
Edward only blamed himself, which made Alphonse feel even worse. Because he should have been stronger and not let his body have been taken that night. Or, he should have actually voiced his concerns about what they were doing. Been more persistent, so that maybe- just maybe- this whole catastrophy could have been avoided.
Edward had been too blinded by the overwhelming sensation of being the soul provider of his little brother, not to mention grief-strucken by their mother's passing- to see the true risks of what they were about to do that faithful day.
Al looked to the sky, slightly comforted at the sight of the clouds, darkening dangerously in warning of a storm on the rise. His surroundings started to darken little by little.
After losing all of his other senses, Al had learned to appreciate the beauty of anything within his view. It was amazing how the mood could switch so swiftly with a blink of an eye, going from summery bright colors to the gloomy essence of autumn within minutes.
A pink butterfly flappet innocently through the air, catching Al's attention. 'Had he even seen a butterfly this year?' The summer had been very much present for at least a month now, leaving the grassy knolls of Risembool in a healthy and nurturing green.
Al watched in awe as the astonishingly mesmerizing butterfly made its carefree journey through the thousands of the individually beautiful leaves of the old chestnut tree, looking for just the right leaf to settle on. Maybe it was looking for shelter from the storm?
Al laughed. If such a small and gentle creature could make its own way in this world, so could he and Ed.
After all, even though Ed had been shorter than Al for the past couple of years now, at least since they started training with sensei, Al should be big enough to take on anything in his new form. All of the scary stuff he used to fear, like wolfs, bears and criminals. And that military officer that had come to visit a couple of weeks ago.
Was Ed really going to join the military when he got his automail? That was the scariest thought of all. And to be honest, Al wasn't sure if he could protect him from that.
He startled, as a pink apparition cluttered his view. The butterfly. It landed peacefully on Al's gauntlet, and Alphonse froze.
'It's not afraid of me?'
This captivatingly enthralled and pure little being, resting its weary wings on his own rigid and heavy hand. A symbol of freedom and color, on his body of metal- meant for protection and pure brutalism.
"Hey, Al!" A voice forced him out of his daydreaming and the butterfly frantically flew away.
On top of a little hill, stood his older brother- leaning heavily on a crutch and clearly worn out by the effort of moving around, as his forehead was drenched in sweat.
"Brother! What are you doing out of bed?" Al exclaimed, with a combination of surprise and concern.
"I got bored," the much smaller figure frowned, as he dropped heavily down beside Alphonse. A pained look painted his face was revield as he hit the ground.
"Did granny allow you to go out?"
"No," Ed stated defyingly, and looked to the ground, as the first droplet fell from the sky. "Argh!" Ed gnarled, looking defeated when he realized his prison break was cut short.
"Come on brother, let's go inside." Al picked his brother up carefully, his small and damaged body fitting perfectly into Al's large arms.
On their way back to the house, Al stopped to glance towards the tree he had just been sitting by, wondering if the butterfly had found its shelter from the brewing storm.
Al chuckled again, clutching tighter onto his reluctant bother.
Yeah, they'd be alright.
Oh my God, I can't believe I actually finished a story! This was a shorty, but I enjoyed writing it very much. I dedicate it to my little brother, who was the main inspiration for this. Myself being 5'3, I will never in my life stop being the big sister, even if my brother is towering over me at 6'3.
And I'll bet ya that there is no one in the world that can make him feel more like a little kid then I can.
For what looked like
storms and heavy rain
became a nice and quiet summer day
thanks to a gust of wind
from a random stroke of a butterfly's wing.
"Sommerfuglvinger (Butterfly wings)" by Anne Grete Preus
Translated from Norwegian to English by me.
Thank you for reading, and
stay awesome!