The wind above the hills kisses and caresses my face while I walk with teacher to the area we usually practice alchemy and combat together.

My teacher would always tie her black, wavy hair up into a bun, and I did too. She told me it was to keep the hair out of our way during our training. She was always so cool and focused, but I always knew that she loved me and cared for me, no matter what had happened or what I might have done. She was understanding in even the most unknown times, where I could not think of how to pull myself together no matter how hard I tried to calm down. I don't know how I could have managed without her in my early years since I always remember her to be there. Always caring for me and always teaching me, I never knew fear when I was around her.

I laugh to myself and she looks back at me. Of course, she smiles too.

We never really spoke to each other while we traveled. She always stressed that silence was almost like a resting time for your awake mind between training. During this silence, I always thought of new ways to impress her and show her how much I've learned. She always wanted me to think of what good I could do with what she had taught me, and not just about the material itself. Doing something positive towards the greater good, no matter how small, meant the world to her.

She takes my hand and I follow her. To the spot where we train; Our secret spot.

Every day we went to that same spot, and we really enjoyed ourselves. Every lesson was followed by a really interesting example of what was taught. I'd try and get every lesson perfect the first time, but usually that wasn't actually the result. I'd cry sometimes because I wasn't satisfied with the result in front of us. Sometimes I'd even get frustrated and angry, and announce that I'd give up. That's when she would get strict and angry with me, and smack me out of it. She never wanted to hear those words. She always told me to never give up, and would compare it like this:

"What would happen if the Sun gave up on burning? The sun would die out, and we would live in darkness until we, too, died off. Everyone would just give up, since their guardian had disappeared."

It would have been morbid, saddening, and even incomprehensible to the average 3 to 8 year old, but not to me. It made sense to me, even at my youngest years with her. I would swallow up my frustration and try again until it worked. She always told me to make sure that the lessons made perfect sense to me before I pursued perfection, like the way I had so many times right off the bat.

I listen to her lessons with a soft, innocent smile. I take a lock of my hair and start to fiddle with it until she tells me to concentrate.

As the weeks turned into months, and the months into years, I held so much alchemical information in my head. I was able to draw quick, simple arrays with ease and transmute nearly identical sculptures in seconds. She taught me how to fix different objects, like radios, phones, and even cars. That's what interested me the most: as long as you understood where everything was supposed to be in an object, and had a clear indication in your mind, you could transmute that idea into reality. She inspired me to think of my own style when performing alchemy, and helped me build my own idea of what alchemy is. I feel like I helped her realize lots of things, too. She always told me I had a knack for saying the right thing at the right time.

She takes my shoulders and tells me that she's finally ready. I smile but I wonder what she means.

Later in my training, she had cancelled many upon many of our outings to our secret place. I would ask her why, but she would always say the same thing.

"My child, you'll be amazed at what I've discovered soon enough. I'm almost ready. You'll have a new friend to play and practice with."

"A friend? Really?"

"Yes, my girl. Someone your own size that you can play and practice with."

That Excited me. Another student? I was always her only student. It excited me so much. But I was taught to be patient, and so I had never felt the need to ask her about the new playmate again. I felt that her words were true. When she felt I was ready, I always thought, she will show me.

"I hope it's another girl, as pretty as you, Teacher." She simply gave me a smile, and a ruffling of my long light blonde hair. I grinned widely and ran off into the fields of tall grass.

I wanted to bring her some flowers that I had transmuted with my own style of alchemy. I was so proud that she didn't have to teach me. I figured out the concept of bio-alchemy and was so proud of myself. I couldn't stand to wait to tell and show her of what I had accomplished. All of those days spent worrying that I'd never become a successful alchemist were over. She would have been so proud. I ran to her study to show her. Except, that would never be the case.

"Teacher Dahlia? Teacher? Dahlia...Da-"

I had never seen something as terrifying and horribly painful. I wanted her back. I wanted Teacher.

I wanted Mom back.

The blonde-haired girl gasped awake, holding her chest in confusion and fear. Tears streamed down her face as she regained consciousness, panting. She observed the scenery before her, which wasn't much: She had a cot suspended by chains to the wall, a toilet, a sink and a mirror. To her right of the small room were wrought iron bars, locked tightly shut. Her face had shown fear and panic when she had realized the circumstances of her actions.

She had clearly been caught, or so it seemed. Her eyes narrowed and her nose twitched in confusion as she found that her black mask had been missing. Her eyes then widened.

"They know what I look like..." her head the slumped forward.

"Great."she mumbled, defeated. She looked down to her hands, which had been snugly held between two pieces of wood. She glared at the contraption. It kept her from using alchemy, which at the time, sucked more ass than the condition the cell was in. After sighing and trying to remember how she had been caught, she arose. She began to walk over to the iron bars that held her captive.

Her inmates weren't exactly inviting. She tried to tune them out and fall into a helpless trance, but could sometimes overhear "hey girlie, come over here and I'll give you what any smart girl wants", or something along the lines of "I'll show you a good time baby". They made her sick to her stomach, although most of the human race did once she thought about it. She grabbed the bars desperately, telepathically calling for help.

Freakily on cue, she heard a metal door unlock many times and drag open, followed by footsteps of at least three grown men. She retreated to her seated position on the cot, hoping they weren't looking for her. She wanted a saviour, not a stern talking-to or something for getting the inmates all wired up. Not that it was her fault or anything. All she had done was walk up to the bars and wish that someone would come and save her.

"Miss Anonymous," she snapped out of her thoughts, "You've been summoned. Please come with me." She stared blankly at the warden and the two men behind him, and took in what he had to say. They were letting her out, perhaps? She studied their appearance. All three of them wore a blue military uniform, much like the officers guarding the database-

'They CAUGHT me!' she gasped at the fact that she had really been caught, and wished she could cross her arms to emphasize how she felt. The warden opened her jail cell, and her mood quickly changed. The two other men came in and lifted her up as if she couldn't move. She shoved them off and gave them a look that clearly said 'back off'.

"I think I can stand up on my own, thanks."

"Just hurry along. We won't want to keep him waiting. The Fuhrer is a busy man, you know." The warden growled, sparking her interest. She followed closely behind him, and in front of the two other men.

'The Fuhrer himself? I guess they really liked that library...' She then began to imagine all of the possible outcomes of her little 'meeting' with the Fuhrer. Jail time, or worse, death. She gulped fearfully.

The three officials had lead her down countless hallways and up countless flights of stairs. She tried to imagine how big this place was, and how much time it took to built. The corridors seemed to never end as she walked down them with her 'escorts', and she grew tired of the same scenery over and over very quickly. Perhaps it was just her excitement to see the ruler of Amestris himself that was overriding her usual patient composure. After what had seemed like hours of walking in a straight line, they had reached the outside air. Her eyes rushed upward to the open sky, smiling genuinely. 'Freedom!'

The warden caught a glimpse of her excitement. "Don't get too excited yet. Let's go, 'freaky eyes'."

For some reason, the comment had made her flinch. She tossed her glance down to the ground to the right of her, staring at the cross between the sidewalk and the street. If she was going to be held captive as a prisoner, she guessed that she would be treated like one, too. As they turned the corner, she refused to look up as she followed along until she noticed that they suddenly began to climb a flight of sheltered stairs. Without looking upward again, she raised her voice.

"Where are we?"

"We're still in Central Command. Like I said, we're going to have you pay a little visit to the Fuhrer."

She exhaled from her nose. "Mm" was all she really had to say.

As they climbed the stairs, she finally began to feel as if she was truly in trouble. As if there were consequences for her actions. As if there were consequences for trying to save a life. She glared at the back of the warden. What did they know about her circumstances? She came to the conclusion that since she was a prisoner, and of course, arrested, they would not think twice about mixing her in with the rest of those inmates. After a few more minutes of walking up stairs and down halls, they all reached a set of tall wooden doors.

"This is where we drop you off. Go in," he ordered, "and you better hold any bit of tongue you may have saved up along the way." She gave him a dirty look, and he simply gave her one that said 'you'll be sorry'.

Turning, scoffing, she went to open the doors but realized it would be hard with the awkward handcuffs she had been wearing. Turning around once again to ask for them off, they were already halfway down the hallway in this maze they called Central Command. Huffing frustratingly, she tried to open the door, ignoring her awkward position. After a moment's effort, she managed to move it open, and walked inside not knowing what to expect.

As soon as she set foot into the room, hands cuffed and still dressed in her black gear, the conversation between various military officials and a secretary to the left had ceased. The secretary eyed her up, and surmised that she was the prisoner to be questioned.

"Miss, you should be headed right in those doors ahead of you," she began, pointing with her pen to the wooden doors at the end of the office, equally as large as the ones she just entered through, "and I'd advise you to-"

"-hold my tongue, don;t stare him in the eyes, and don't speak unless asked." the girl casually finished for the secretary, who simply returned to her work and kept pointing at the door. The girl hobbled along, handcuffs and all, across the room and to the doors in front of her. Once again awkwardly opening another set of doors, she entered, now truly not knowing what to expect of the Fuhrer that had so kindly summoned her. 'Here goes...'

The room was extremely spacious and silent, unlike the room she had set foot in beforehand. At each side of the room were shelves lined with books, files and important documents. In the center was a table and chairs, two sofas facing each other with a coffee table in between them, and at the end... a mahogany desk. She gulped as she met eyes with who she expected to be the Fuhrer, and immediately she broke the would-be staring contest between them. He motioned to her to come towards the desk he sat at, so she did exactly as she was told. This wasn't like her to be so stiff and controlled, but she felt quite intimidated by the presence of the man before her.

"So, you're who's caused all that damage and distress down at our 2nd district database library, am I correct?" he asked with a dark, deep voice. She felt through his voice that he had seen a lot in his life.

Glancing to the right, looking down, she simply game him a small "Yes."

"Hm," he began, linking his hands together in front of his face, "the document you attempted to steal... do you realize the importance of such a document to be kept under such tight security?"

She kept hard her stare to the floor, and gave a simple nod. She could sense his mood take a turn for a more serious one than before.

"Do you truly realize the importance of protecting it?" She gave another small "Yes". He exhaled slowly.

"Let's approach this... differently. Do you understand the penalty for one, breaking into military property, two, sabotaging access to and from military facilities, and three, stealing a top-secret document that could potentially jeopardize this country?"

She did not answer, as she did not know what to say to best avoid more trouble. Why was he talking to her directly, to some delinquent thief like her? He was treating her like a child through the way he spoke to her, and she hated it.

"If I was smart and true to the laws of Amestris, you should be locked up for life." Her eyes widened. That was definitely not good.

"But... To be frank, I'm curious as to why you'd need such a document." She clenched her teeth and looked upward towards the wall beside the window behind him.

"I'm even going to go so far against the rules as to treat you like a guilt-free citizen," he continued, and this had pained her pride ever so much, "your name?"

She looked once again down to the side, shifting her shackles. She had only wanted information. Why was everything needed to accomplish for something worth knowing always so hard?

"Sadie... Sadie Brisbane, sir." he smirked at her sudden turn for the meek side. This guy gave him the creeps.

"Alright, Sadie," he made her name flow off his tongue disgustingly, "why did you try and steal that document?"

"I need to undo something that I've caused to happen," she answered quietly, "but now it does not matter since I'm going to be-"

He abruptly cut her off, holding out his hand as a signal to stop. "You wouldn't be talking about human transmutation, would you?"

Her clenched teeth turned into a full-out grimace. She looked off to the other side of the room, unshed tears welling up around her eyes.

"I am." Silence filled the room for a few moments until the Fuhrer rose from his seat, facing the window. His back turned to her, he exhaled almost nostalgically.

"This story starts to get old by the time you've heard as much as I have about it," she was about to speak but he turned around, "It's the ultimate taboo. Yet, you still pursue it. Do you not understand that it is not absolute?"

She looked downward, her shoulders raising. Her small bangs covered her eyes even more than before.

"No matter what, once a person is dead you can't bring them back. No matter what relation you have to them."

"Mustang..."

She heard a familiar boyish voice try to stop the Fuhrer from saying anything more. She had not realized that the two boys from the previous night had been listening in from the other side of the room near the doors.

He stood in front of the desk and placed his hands down onto the desk. "I saw how you performed your alchemy a few days before before I had knocked you out,"

Tears rolled down her face. It was him that knocked her out cold for that long. What has she delved into?

"I think she's realized the importance-"

"Edward, Alphonse." He looked ahead of her to their faces, which were full of empathy and guilt of their own, to silence their tongues. He continued what he was trying to prove.

"Sadie, I had seen how you performed alchemy. It was like the alchemy of the brothers Elric behind you, wasn't it?"

The girl remained still, yet up close you could see that she began to tremble. Fuhrer Mustang's fist pounded the desk in frustration. It jolted all three teens in the room.

"You've seen the truth. You know of the equivalent exchange for an impossible transmutation like that. Don't you?"

Sadie had had enough of this infernal torment. Her bloodshot eyes shot up at the Fuhrer in ultimate anger, frustration and sorrow.

"You don't think I know what happens to those trying to produce an artificial human life?" she took a step back, her hands so clenched that her knuckles were as white as light. THe two boys were shocked at her outburst but Mustang stood his ground, almost wanting her to lash out at him.

"I want to undo the fact that I caused my...someone I loved dearly to perform such a beastly act! I inspired her to create with the devil's transmutation," she paused, "I need to pay her back! I need to bring her life back, because I owe it to her-"

"That's a foolish and childish way to think."

Both of the boys eyes widened at the situation at hand. She reminded them so much of themselves, in a way. Desperate to get a loved one back, even if it meant sacrificing part of yourself to accomplish it. The only difference between them and her... was that she both knew and accepted the consequences, where they had not known the consequences.

Sadie's tears kept falling down her cheeks, her lip bit at a lack of what to say. She fell to her knees.

"You have no idea how it felt to..." Mustang grunted.

"To what, Brisbane?"

Her vocal chords could not formulate the words she mouthed. She choked up words instead, and after a moment of silence got back up. After a couple more, she gave a long bated breath.

"It was my fault that she had done it. It made sense at the time to bring her back, no matter what the consequences," she began, not afraid of him looking into her eyes, "I knew that I was going to lose something, be it my leg, my arm, my heart..."

Edward's throat began to choke up silently. 'I said those exact same words...'

"...It didn't matter to me what was going to be taken away. To live with such guilt and conviction on your shoulders is to feel like you've truly let someone down in the ultimate fashion."

She locked eyes with Mustang, showing him her true pain and frustration through her angry, determined eyes. He was taken aback for the slightest moment by her eyes, but regained his superior composure.

The Fuhrer gave out a long exhale, like the one from before. He turned up to her with a slight smirk. She was baffled at how he must have found the situation funny, or at least amusing.

"How would you like to become a state alchemist?"

The opportunity he had just presented in front of her, a convict, did not quite register right away. Her eyes remained locked, but held more shock than anything from before. Was this a joke? Did he find her situation to be comical? She began to severely dislike the ruler of Amestris.

"Or, at least cooperate with us. With me," he suggested an alternative, "it's the least you can do to make up for stealing." He didn't bother to wipe off his cocky smirk, but to emphasize it even more.

All three teens stood stiff and shocked at what the Fuhrer had suggested.