Hello dear readers! I've been gone for a while now, but I had my reasons. Head over to Tumblr to read all about it. So this is a new story I submitted for this year's FMA Big Bang (#fmabb17). The talented Dzioo created the art for it and the amazing Bayalexison, my beta, is helping me iron out the wrinkles in the story. They are both amazing people that you can find in Tumblr and/or AO3. All related artwork will be posted on Tumblr and AO3 under hirstories and le_confidant, respectively. You can find specific tags for this story on AO3.
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Abraca—switch! Or The Tale of Edward Elric vs. the Mischievous Body-Snatcher
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Chapter 2
The crackling of firewood was starting to annoy Edward. He bent over and picked up a long stick from the ground. He gave it a quick look thinking that Don Paco might've used it to stir up the fire already; he did the same and stirred it up some more. The crackling calmed. Seconds later, Edward tossed the stick away and sat in front of the bonfire. No seats or mats were available so he had to make do with sitting on the red sand. At least the surface soft on the tush.
After finding a comfortable spot on the ground, Edward pulled his State Alchemist pocket watch from his vest. It was thirteen until midnight. Edward snapped the watch close and brought his knees close to his chest. He folded his arms over his bent knees and rested his chin on his right forearm. Two, maybe three beats had passed by before a proud smile adorned his face. He couldn't help it though, he still couldn't believe that flesh and bone had replaced metal and wires. A little over two years had passed by since he got his arm back. He supposed, though, he was going to catch himself smiling until he put his past behind. Lingering on the past for too long always had a sobering effect on him.
Edward straightened; he flipped open his pocket watch one more time. It was now five until midnight. Edward flipped the watch close but this time he slipped it back in his vest pocket. He glanced around but found the area as immutable as when he arrived.
The thin plume of smoke he saw at a distance was still crowing Don Paco's hut; Edward groaned.
The man specifically told him to be there one hour before midnight.
"Guess the old fart was just being a control freak," Edward mumbled to himself.
He looked around some more. Still no crazy old man in the vicinity. He sighed.
Edward returned to his previous sitting position, with his arms folded over his bent knees, though this time he didn't rest his chin on his right forearm. He scanned the area some more looking for any signs of the old man and found none. He was going to give Don Paco a couple of extra minutes before going back to town.
Edward groaned in irritation.
He hated waiting, he hated waiting in silence, mostly he hated silence because his voice of reason liked to strike in the dead of silence.
Like a drill sergeant, the likes one could find in Fort Briggs, his voice of reason got on his case the day before while he made his way back to Little Big Canyon.
The rest of the night, and pretty much the better part of the following day, it barked at him to forget about Don Paco's offer. But Edward was born a scientist and scientists are curious beings. Besides, he has never liked to be told what to do. "Lack of common sense" as many had told him throughout his life. So alchemy or no alchemy, Edward figured that there was much he could learn from that crazy old man.
Wasn't that the whole fucking point of his trip to the West?
Edward thoughts returned to the moment when Don Paco told him about Alphonse's feelings and his supposed guilt.
"And here I thought Al was making up excuses to travel East so he could play house with Li'l Miss Bean," he said, bursting into a guffaw.
But his attempt at sarcasm faded fast.
Edward's expression turned dark. He exhaled a frustrated sigh.
If Alphonse would've been with him right now, he might feel more confident about committing himself to what Don Paco was offering—
"Cano, didn't I tell you already that wandering like that can get you in trouble around these parts?"
Edward's face twisted into an annoyed glare when he heard the stupid comment.
"I wasn't sure you were going to come," Don Paco added as he trudged towards Edward.
Even with the full moon shining brightly above them, it was hard to distinguish figures in the dark. Edward thought the old man was coming from the direction of his adobe hut, but he appeared from the opposite direction.
The flames finally shed light on Don Paco. Edward blinked like a man waking from a dream.
The old crone was wearing a full regalia consisting of the same clothes he was wearing the day before along with long loops of shell necklaces beaded together with serpent skulls. Don Paco's Sanguine Star was the center piece amongst his gruesome neck ornaments.
The way the red stone shined amongst the skulls reminded Edward of Envy's stone.
He tried to control the rise of bile his throat as best as he could.
The huge backpack on Don Paco's back made him look like a shriveled up tortoise.
In his right hand, Don Paco held a long wooden staff; he cradled a cat in his opposite arm.
Edward wasn't an expert in cats like Alphonse, but he was pretty sure the cat Don Paco held was a golden short-haired cat.
Why would he need a cat? Edward turned to Don Paco, his golden eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"Relax, muchacho. I'm not going to kill this cat, if that's what you're thinking," Don Paco snickered.
"You said it, not me," Edward spat.
Don Paco cut him off. "But you thought about it!"
Edward flashed a hard, cynical smile. "No offense, but you don't strike me as a cat person."
Don Paco pointed a finger at Edward, and said, "So sharp!"
He chuckled as he walked past Edward, then gently deposited the cat on the ground.
"Domingo is a crucial part of the ritual," he said as he turned to Edward. "Cats act as guides between realms."
The cat meowed as if he were in agreement with Don Paco.
Edward kept to himself.
Don Paco took the opportunity to place the backpack near the bonfire. He then sat crossed-legged next to it and motioned for Edward to move closer.
But Edward didn't move an inch.
Domingo sauntered toward Edward. He looked at Edward with his big golden eyes before rubbing against his side. Alphonse would've loved this little guy. Domingo meowed then returned to his owner's side.
Don Paco leaned forward to pick up Domingo. "Did you tell anyone in town that you were coming?" he asked as he put the cat on his lap.
Edward smiled that cynical smile again and said, "Do you have some nefarious plans for me or something?"
Don Paco's eyes widened in surprise. After a pause, he let out a loud, boisterous cackle.
"¡Ay qué muchacho este!" he hollered, making Domingo jump away.
Don Paco gave a hardened glare at the cat when it decided to keep his distance.
He turned to Edward, and added, "No, I'm not planning on doing anything of the sort. I just wanted to make sure that you informed someone of your whereabouts, that's all."
Edward answered with a deadpan stare. He had to appear cold and aloof in front of Don Paco; the man was much too astute for his liking. He didn't say anything for a moment. He was angry at himself for not telling anyone about his whereabouts. It would've been wise to tell the innkeeper. The man had been genuinely worried about him ever since he first asked him what he knew about Don Paco.
"It's okay, cano, you can turn tail and run back to town. I won't judge," Don Paco said with a mocking smile.
The fucking bastard did it again.
Edward shook his head. "Naw, I'm good," he said, making sure his tone overflowed with manly confidence.
Don Paco stared at him for a moment, then out of nowhere, he smacked one of his thighs and grinned wide.
"Let's commence the ritual!" he hollered.
Don Paco leaned forward to drag his backpack closer to him. He untied the braided leather laces and stuck his knobby hand inside. With careful measure, Don Paco took out a small gourd which he placed to his right. He moved the bag to the opposite side then picked up the gourd.
Edward watched in silence while the man uncorked the gourd and took a whiff of its contents.
Don Paco swirled the gourd like a master maître d' of some expensive Amestrian restaurant and took another sniff.
The man struggled to stand up while holding the gourd, but once he was up, he walked to Edward.
"You need to drink this now," he said, shaking the gourd slightly so Edward would take it.
At that, Edward was unable to contain a scoff.
"And why do I need to drink this?" he asked.
Instead of being angry, Don Paco smiled. "I need to open up your energetic pathways," he said, and his smile grew.
A long pause followed Don Paco's answer, mainly because Edward was searching for signs of deceit in the dark pits of the old man's eyes.
"Are you going to drink from it too?" Edward challenged when he came up empty-handed.
"I already did," Don Paco replied with what was probably his most impish smile so far.
Edward stared at the gourd then glared at Don Paco.
"You could be serving me poison for all I know," he chided.
Another smile, a bigger one slid across Don Paco's wrinkled face. "That's always a possibility, cano," he said, to Edward's surprise.
He paused to smack his lips, then added, "I got a question for you too." He pointed a finger at Edward. "Are you willing to take that gamble?"
Were all the people of the Far West so overly dramatic?
Edward moved along to more pressing matters, like what that man could gain from this encounter.
It wasn't power, Edward quickly deduced, because he didn't have any. Knowledge? That's certainly a possibility but the old fart had proven to be quite knowledgeable about many things in his own right.
Edward stared at Don Paco with unblinking eyes while entertaining an idea he'd been keeping at bay since yesterday: Does Don Paco actually have good intentions at heart?
Since an early age, life has drilled into his head that anything was possible. An old man in the middle of nowhere claiming that he can help him restore his alchemy by convincing Truth to give back what he'd willingly offered in exchange for his brother's life could be just as credible as a homunculus planning become a living god. And he already lived through the latter.
"Fine, I'll drink the damn thing," Edward said as he yanked the gourd from Don Paco's hand.
"A wise decision, muchacho," Don Paco muttered while he watched Edward uncork the rustic container. When Edward curled his nose in disgust, he added, "It tastes worse than it smells but it'll make things easier."
Edward looked up, scowled, and snapped, "Gee, thanks for the heads-up."
"I don't sugarcoat things, pendejo," Don Paco snapped back.
Edward ignored the man.
He tried to peer inside the gourd but couldn't see anything in the darkness of the night; it made him groan inside. As he let out a huff of air, Edward thought for the umpteenth time about the two main reasons that drove him to seek Don Paco one more time.
Alphonse...Winry... He wished they could be right there with him to support him—or to stop him from committing an act of stupidity—but they weren't.
He raised his eyes to Don Paco.
Physically, that scrawny old man didn't pose a threat; the Philosopher's Stone hanging from his neck was another matter. But even if the man somehow managed to pull off some idiotic stunt on him, he had his strength and his youth on his side. Besides, Izumi did teach him some amazing combat skills.
So with that boost of self-confidence, Edward sucked in a breath and pressed the gourd to his lips. In a one-two, he guzzled the contents down before his throat closed up.
"Ah, eso es...drink it to the last drop," Don Paco said while he watched Edward down the potion, and smiled in utter satisfaction the moment he finished.
"Ugh—! Fuck!" Edward spat as he put the gourd down on the sand. He swallowed slowly to avoid upchuck—which probably would taste even worse than what he just downed—then added, "That thing is vile!"
"Give it a couple of seconds," Don Paco said as he picked up the gourd and brought back with him to his backpack.
Edward watched the man pick up the golden-haired cat, which he cradled in his arm with utmost care. Don Paco then walked back to him.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
Edward felt as if the question had been asked ages ago. He also noticed he had a hard time putting together a proper answer.
An indescribable sweetness suddenly replaced the nasty aftertaste that lingered in his mouth.
"Wha—" Edward slurred but couldn't finish piecing together what he was trying to say. His mouth felt as if it'd been stuffed with cotton. Then a sensation of weightlessness hit him. He wasn't sure if he was sitting, standing or had fallen to the ground. All sense of gravity was gone in an instant.
"Fu—!" he tried to say but he somehow had lost the ability to speak.
Edward focused his attention on Don Paco's feet, which were now in his direct line of view. He mustn't be paying attention because it was Don Paco's face what he was looking at. Then, after a couple of seconds that seemed to stretch a lifetime, Edward came to a terrible realization.
"F—fu—cker—" he finally managed to slip a word past his numbed lips.
Don Paco's mouth curled into a Cheshire grin that eerily reminded him of Truth.
Edward tried to stand but he couldn't. His eyes focused on Domingo who'd replaced Don Paco's face.
"That's it," he said, "Concentrate on those golden eyes that look so much like yours."
Edward tried to shut his eyes close but couldn't. He wanted to look away but found himself unable to do so.
"These will be your eyes from now on, Edward Elric," Don Paco continued.
"He knows my name...I never gave him my name..!"
Cold dread washed over him.
"No-no-no!" Edward wanted to say but at this point, he wasn't sure if those thoughts were even his.
Darkness began creeping up on him. Edward fought against this sensation and lost.
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The world was spinning faster than a merry-go-round.
Edward blinked a few times to see if it would it stop; it didn't help much, though.
His thoughts were a mess too. The only thing he remembered well was that he'd passed out.
Edward tried to get up when the dizziness wasn't so overwhelming. And when he did, he noticed that Don Paco wasn't there with him anymore.
Then he noticed that he was standing too close to the ground.
"How—?" That can't be right... He looked down to see if there was something wrong with his legs and found two golden-haired paws instead of his feet. His eyes instantly rounded.
"What the fuck—?"
Edward tried to bring his hand to his head but lost his balance. His chin hit the ground. A jolt of panic ran up his spine; the surge somehow propelled him high into the air.
"Wha—what is going on?" Edward muttered as he landed safely on his feet.
His eyes darted in all directions. He began breathing loudly but he couldn't help himself.
"What the fuck is going on!" he screamed into the dark night.
And then he heard it. The sound was muffled by the thumping in his ears, but he heard it alright.
He had meowed.
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I forgot to mention, there's lots of swearing in this story. Chapter 3 should be posted sometime next weekend. n_n
Would love to hear what you think, so please R&R!