A Soldier's Final Song

"Run Edward, run!" the wounded General pleaded with the petrified boy tending to him.

"Roy!" the younger soldier yelled as he watched his comrade's brain matter plastering the dirt covered forest floor where he lay.

Fumbling with the battle-scarred assault rifle he fired blindly into the dense jungle foliage whilst scrambling to his feet. Fighting off the urge to run away, he took pleasure in the roar of his rifle, as its bullets tore through the bark, dirt leaves and anything that got in their way. Then after taking a glance at his fallen sergeant, he froze once more. The resolve to stay and fight left him. No longer stood the battle-hardened and rage-filled warrior, but a scared and lonely child that's just watched his parents being murdered.

First a trembling step backwards then another, as his sergeant's final words rang in his head telling him to run away. Until finally he was running away as fast as his legs could carry him

"I don't want to run. I want to fight. I want to avenge them; Mustang, Fuery, Falman, Havoc, Hawkeye, Breda, My brothers my comrades, my family". Unable to stop he tried to blink away the cascade of tears flooding from his eyes.

Due to eyes stinging from the salty tears, his foot got caught on a root and was sent tumbling down an embankment. Crushing the crisp, autumn leafs beneath his rolling form. As he lay there to allow his ragged breathing to slow after running for what felt like hours to him, but was only mere minutes. Closing his eyes he listened to the world around him, the birds chirping a morning tune, a stag bounding away in fright and the heavy gait of the Soviet soldiers searching for him.

He could hear the thundering of their boots against the soft, dirt forest floor as they ran past where he lay. A rustling in the bushes made one of the soldiers stop, his hawk like eyes scrutinizing every detail of the forest around him for the battered man, not even five meters away. Deciding there was nothing wrong the Soviet began to move off, failing to notice the faint footprints he was standing over that would have giving away the injured soldier's position. Edward's eyes scanned the greenery, not daring to move unless he wished to make a noise and alert his pursuers. Once he was convinced the Soviet was far enough away he released a cautious breath which he didn't even realised he was holding. Slowly rising up on his elbows where he lay, trying not to disturb his injuries as much as possible. Looking down to inspect his injuries as he could feel his pain flaring up, he couldn't help letting a dry chuckle escape from his bloody, cut lips. There were cuts and small gashes littering his body, bruises the size of tennis balls only beginning to make their presence known now, his clothes were torn and caked in mud from his fall. He couldn't help chuckling again thinking he has seen better days.

Finally deciding it was time to move he carefully stood up to avoid making his wounds deeper. Once certain there were no others soldiers nearby he stumbled his way whilst using a tree to support himself towards the clearing close by where he fell. Then there in the centre of the clearing was something he wasn't expecting at all, a piano. Worn by the weather its seat was in tatters, the wood was rotting and caked in mud. Raising a curious hand and gently pressing a key. What followed was not a sound of damaged strings from years of abandonment, but a soft and gentle sound like that of one which is treated every day in a pianists shop. He could remember the day almost as if it was yesterday when he first played the piano for his then girlfriend; it was also the same day he proposed to her. Glancing down to the silver wedding band around his finger – it was plain save for the small engraving on the inside hidden from view saying "Forever and Always" – he couldn't stop the lone tear from falling down his scarred cheek as he reminisced about the happy memory.

Making the final decision he ever will. He tossed his assault rifle to the side the one he had when he first became a soldier, the one that saw him and his comrades. No. His family, through so many close calls and saved them time after time. However, now it no longer held a purpose. The young soldier shakily sat down on the ruined sear that barely held his weight.

Then after taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady his nerves, he began to play. What followed was a tune so sweet it could make angels and even callous demons smile at its beauty. It was a slow song, soft and melodious. He could hear the shouts of the other soldiers as his own tears began to freely fall from his eyes. They weren't rushing down his face like a waterfall but like a gentle stream flowing over the rocky riverbed without a care.

Feeling a pressure on his shoulder as light as a feather in a raging storm, he slowly turned his to look over his shoulder whilst still playing.

"Roy?" the young soldier managed to get out in barely a whisper between his silent tears.

"You did good kid but it's time to come home. We are all waiting". Looking around he could see them, the ones that took him in and made him who he was. As they formed a close circle around the piano he couldn't help but let the tears fall even more and putting more passion into the song. Slowly scanning through the smiling faces of his comrades he could feel a smile tug at his lips as he felt safe, but instantly froze when his eyes landed on her, Riza Hawkeye.

"Riza, I am so sorry. I let you down, I failed you" he just managed to get out in between choked sobs as he hung his head. As she played with the silver ring on her finger identical to the one Edward wore, she gave him a blinding smile. Then speaking in a voice as soft and as sweet as cotton candy she said

"You have nothing to be sorry for Edward. You have done your best, now it's time to come home like John said. I'll be waiting for you". The young soldier once again raised his head slowly to see the figures of his comrades have disappeared.

"Zamorazhivat', Podnyat' ruki vverkh!" yelled a voice from behind the crying soldier playing the piano.

"I said, freeze and put your hands up!" came the voice again in a heavy Russian accent. But the young soldier ignored him and continued to play, in his silent reverie. As the song seemed to slow down as it was coming to the end, the Soviet soldiers began to surround him. He could see some of their eyes shining as their own eyes started to water and threatened to spill at the beauty of their enemy's songs.

Smiling, the young soldier lowered his head as his final tear fell from his eyes and the final note was played.

"Finally, I'm coming home". He could see them once more placing their hands on his shoulders and smiling at him, and then he was at peace.

Hope you enjoyed - Ranger_McAleer