Disclaimer: If I owned FMA, I would be god.
---
Colonel Mustang stared at the ring on his finger. The band was plain silver. The stone was the colour of blood. It glowed faintly with an internal light. He knew that it shouldn't exist. It was a myth. But it was real alright. It was right there, sitting on his finger over his sparkcloth glove, and that was real enough. There was only one way to test its reality. Mustang held his hand out in front of his face. His fingers curled into their familiar positions. Time seemed to slow; he felt the friction between his fingers. The stone flashed. With a large crash the buildings in front of him erupted into flames twice their sizes. Mustang staggered back a step, staring wide-eyed in horror at the stone on his finger. He glanced up at the fire, then back down at the stone. His mind was racing. How could something so small create so much destruction? It didn't seem like a fair trade.