"There she goes!"
"Don't let her get away!"
Men shouted, adoned in blue uniforms, running down the streets of Amestris' Central City. A flash of light and a bunch of throwing knife-like blades were flying at the girl's persuers, then another flash and a wall of stone was erected between her and them, but she couldn't stop running. The men would just find another way around. She had to disappear.
She scaled the building, and kept running, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. She lost her footing and barely caught herself on the side of one, pulling herself up. With a sigh, she sat on the side of the building. She had lost them, for the time being.
Ameria looked down at her tattooed hands, then down at the alleyway. She ran a hand through her long, dark hair, then stretched her arms out above her head. It was a constant, uphill battle. Ameria had made one mistake when she was just a few years younger and now here she was, on constant run from the military. It was as if they were always looking for a reason to bring in Alchemists. They were becoming a lost breed, even the underground Alchemists who enjoyed their work despite the prejudices of the world, were becoming even more scarce.
Before she stood, Ameria was able to see the tattered leg of her pants, the automail was shining in the moonlight. The girl sighed, a simple transmutation to repair the fabric of the pants, and she got to her feet.
She tied back her dark hair and covered her red eyes with sunglasses. She was a quarter Ishvallan on her father's side. Her Ishvallan grandfather was the only family she had left.
She climbed down from the building, and continued on her way, as nonchalant as before the chase, the girl had been able to pass without detection. Apparently the military soldiers hadn't paid close enough attention to her appearance.
"Grandpa! I'm home." Ameria called as she entered their home in what could only be considered the slums of Central City.
"There have been reports on the news of a female vigilante with dark hair and red eyes using weapons alchemy and flame alchemy in conjunction with each other." her grandfather said, "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you now Ameria?"
The girl sighed, "No, not at all."
"Ameria. When you told me you wanted to become an Alchemist after hearing the stories of the Elric brothers that your father told you, I tried to keep you from it. For many years, people have held a prejudice against you all based on events you had nothing to do with...much like my great grandfather after the Ishvallan civil war. I only want what is best for you...but if you continue to do this, you're going to end up getting yourself killed...like your father." Her grandfather said.
"I want to make a difference. The country's leaders are being ignorant right now, and making the people believe that way. We all know that Alchemists didn't condemn this country, they saved it. There's going to come a time when they need us to do so again, and I'm going to be there." Ameria said, "Now, where's Raven? I need him to adjust my leg."
Her grandfather simply pointed towards the basement, and she simply nodded, going downstairs. Money was tight, but even now Automail Engineers were still in demand, and Ameria got her's for free.
"You were out gallavanting about, trying to play the hero and becoming the villian instead." he said, "And you've messed up my work of art." he complained.
Ameria rolled her eyes, "Raven, don't give me that. Just need a bit of an adjustment. Noticed it after I finished running for my life."
"They are calling you a Vigilante." he said
"The title, The Scarlett Alchemist, hasn't caught on yet." she retorted
"You know as well as I do only State Alchemists used titles back then...and they don't exist now." he said
"Times can change." Ameria believed this wholeheartedly.
She sat and stretched out her automail leg.
Four years prior, she had suffered effects of a rebound from a transmutation. It hadn't been human transmutation. No, not even she was foolish enough to believe she could bring anyone back from the dead. No, but she had pushed herself beyond her limits.
It was a revenge attack. The military had been the ones who had stolen her father from her, and she was overwhelmed with grief. She had failed to care about the law of equivilant exchange. Then, in the most painful of feelings, her leg was gone.
Ameria had just barely managed to make it out of that situation alive. Lucky for her, her brother was already a skilled Automail mechanic by that point. It had been quite painful, but she had been fitted with the best work money couldn't buy.
