Author's Note: I got bunches of good reviews, so I am going to continue this story as long as I get more. Yes I know. I'm a greedy bitch. So a couple people asked about the gray eyed character. I left many hints in this chapter to who it is. It's up to you to figure it out. This is a bunch of fun, I must admit. And once you get to the second part where it's separated (after the Roy part), go play Chevelle's 'Jars'. I was listening to it while writing and it really fits the scene of the *censured due to spoilers*.


Chapter 1:

Of Fire and Horses

Hildebrand stood smiling in front of the soldiers lined up in formation. Roll call was just completed and the troops awaited their new orders. The alchemists stood in the very front while regular soldiers were in the back. He sauntered up and down the line, taking inventory on his goods. Soldiers, to him, were just a name and a number. With ARC, that was literal. Even around his left wrist he bore two stainless steel chains. He was only one of a handful of high ranking alchemists left and he took great pride in that. Since he was a loyal follower of Hakuro, he was allowed to keep his position. Hell, he was the first alchemist to sign up for ARC.

The tired faces looked to him gloomily, which made him smile even more. He'd push all of them. Make them the best. Toughen them and break them down to their bare minimums just to reconstruct them in the name of ARC. They would become the protectors of ARC. There were a special few he took favor in though, those of the rarest breeds of alchemy. The people who controlled air were some of his favorite play toys: the best for cattle herding people into a group. He snorted, earth alchemy was so overrated. It was the most simplistic and basic alchemy of all, but nonetheless, very handy. Then there were the instant killers. Very clean and very swift, the water alchemists could freeze the blood of a person. It was so boring though. Neither bloodshed nor violence took place. Just a simple breath and that's it. No more life.

Then there are his favorites: the healers and the killers. The healers were like any type of doctor, suppose to do good, but could also cause some of the most painfully slow and tormenting, suffering onto a person. The diversity of their kind was also quite interesting. They could use plants or water. Plant users were more rare and harder to understand. They had more morals and stronger wills than the water users.

Then there are the killers. Metal and fire dominated this category, but both were extremely rare. Only about one out of over ten thousand alchemists was of this category. He didn't mean metal as in a combination of things in a rock in the earth. Oh no, no. He meant the types of metals in a human body. Being able to simply rearrange a few chemicals here and there and cause internal suffering. He could almost squeal. And of course, the fire alchemists were talented in killing. It made him grin and look down the line ahead.

His darling little Flame Alchemist who had so much spunk and pride in him; he'd have to destroy that. Bend him and twist him until he finally snapped. After all, Hildebrand himself was a metal alchemist. He had a slight advantage over the other man, both with talent and of course, rank. He took great pride in his second name: the Blood Saber Alchemist.

"The earth bound alchemists will rebuild the structures in the town tomorrow. Once complete, the town's people shall move back in after all of them have been given a thorough investigation. Everyone else may take the rest of the day to rest." The lines briskly gave him a salute, then scattered to their respectful bunks. He bounced off to find his new play toy. After all, having two killers in such a close proximity with such strong egos was very interesting.


Roy was tired. No, beyond tired. He was flat out exhausted. He knew that even if his life depended on it, he could not make even a spark. Roy had to use the last of his reserve to contain the fire back on the edge of town least the whole damn forest went up into cinders. Hawkeye had commanded him softly to return to his bunk while she went to find Charles.

Charles was a basic major, fresh out of the academy, but an excellent water healer. He could cure every type of large gash possible. It would still leave scars, but chances of infection were dwindled to zero and the oozing blood was stopped unless reopened. He normally remained back at camp to cure the injured from the field, but if the necessity arisen; he could instantly become a field medic and a fighter.

Roy slide onto the cot, looking over his hands. Fresh burns stood out on his pale skin. Today, it appeared that whoever made the chimeras was not even average. Messy last minute transmutations were signs of quick protection methods. These people were not a threat. They were not mentally unstable or violently rebellious. They were just a normal community trying to live their life peacefully with the aid of simple alchemy. It bugged him to no end. It was Ishbal again. This time though, he was one eyed, without his best friend, tagged, and without any military power. Maybe he should check to see if Hakuro was a homunculus. Hmm… Charred, or broiled?

The tent flaps lifted and in came a pudgy, but muscular man with shaved brown hair. He had large brown eyes and freckles dotting his cheeks. In his hands were a first aid kit and a canteen of water. He quickly looked over Roy's figure, and then turned to the first aid kit. Setting it on the ground, he quickly uncapped the canteen. The water inside floated about in a small whip. With some help, the shirt and jacket was once more removed and the bandages, already sodden from blood, were removed. "Damn, Mustang. Out flirting with that pretty redheaded lady of yours?"

"Yes, sir. Couldn't help myself. She was just so fiery today." The two men set into a round of laughs.

The water moved over Roy's wounds carefully, spreading a cold sense of relief through his aching body. Wounds were instantly cleaned and scabs formed. His sore, reddish burns turned sickly pale and hardened. "Ya gotta be careful out there, bub. I know that little fire lady of yours is ya friend, but look atcha. By the time we' back in Central, ya be one hell of a circus side show. They gonna have to change your name. 'The Scarred Alchemist'. You'd put that old serial killer to shame."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Roy shrugged feeling the muscles tense from stress. "I'll be just fine, just need a lit-"

The sound of the tent flaps lifting interrupted him. Both men inside quickly stood and saluted as Hildebrand walked in. "Ah, Mustang. Getting your wounds treated?"

"Yes, sir." The two men stood at ease. Charles eyes flicked over to his whip of water as he hid it behind him.

Hildebrand walked over to inspect Roy's back, letting his fingers gently run over the newly formed bruises and scabs. "Looks to be going well." His fingers could feel how Mustang's muscles tensed. He gently tapped his fingers against a rather nasty looking whip slash. "I heard you took care of the fire in the town."

"Yes, sir." Roy twitched, but kept his face schooled as best as he could.

"I heard instead of letting it burn, you eliminated it." He fingered some of the other cuts. His eyes locked on the man's back.

Instead of giving an answer, Roy looked over his shoulder to the other man, waiting for him to continue. He slowly swallowed. The fingers on his spine worried him. With just a thought, his body could become his worst enemy. The man behind him could rip out certain metals in his blood stream to create thorns that would protrude from his skin.

"Next time, be a good mutt and let the fire kill everything in its path." Hildebrand grinned. The ends of his finger tips left little glowing red spots on Roy's back. Roy's breath hitched and his face drained of colour. "After all, Mustang, we are killers." The man chuckled and walked around. He patted Mustang's head and left.

"Don't move, Mustang!" Charles darted the water from behind him turning it deadly. It sliced lines where the red dots appeared. Small little plops and the relief of pressure being taken away, alerted Roy of the small iron balls being removed from his back. "That sick sonovabiatch." Charles moved the water to comfort again, healing the new wounds.

Roy took in shuddering breaths and the colour returned to his cheeks. The cold sweat stopped and his shoulders fells. Hawkeye and Havoc moved into the tent and supported him. Both knowing what happened instantly by the half dozen silver balls on the ground. "Sir?" Hawkeye started.

Roy just nodded, giving her a small wave. "Just let me rest." He sat on the cot.

"Lay on your stomach, bub. Keep of 'em wounds. I'll be back 'bout an hour." Charles laid the water on Mustang's back and it slowly absorbed in. "That'll be an ice pack for a bit." He nodded to himself. "And that there first aid box has some of 'em cooling creams if need be." He smiled gently. "Take care." He headed out the tent.

Roy groaned and buried his face into the rock hard pillow. He ached so much. He was tired and furious. Not used to having his hand tied like this, he didn't know what to do. Hawkeye sat on the edge of his cot while Havoc took to sitting on the other cot which happened to be Fuery's. Fuery was still stuck in the hospital tent until his eye sight returned. He lost it from a flash bomb just a few days before. It wasn't major, just a hassle.

The three stayed quiet for awhile, not knowing where to start. The two blonds knew that even a simple comment could take a wrong turn with their afflicted commander. Roy's eye scanned the little silver balls on the ground. Perfect marble sized, glimmering in the sunlight that snuck through the flaps, and made from his blood. Gently nudging Hawkeye, the woman reached down and picked them up, handing them to him. He rolled them around in his hand and closed his eye.

"We're sorry, sir." Hawkeye said, softly. It wasn't really an apology, because neither one was at fault for the wounds, but it was an implied apology for not being able to help him like Hughes would have been able to, or the fact that they could not protect him from the higher ranking alchemist.

He gave a grunt, and rolled his shoulders. Slowly relaxing with the two watching over him, he silently started to drift to sleep, dreaming of gold and crimson.


"They're moving closer by the day." Gunmetal eyes glared at the horizon. He looked back towards the towns people gathered in the General Store. "As long as no one practices any alchemy, we should be able to hide under their radar for awhile."

Mumbles broke out in the crowd. "We should continue living our lives normally." An elderly man spoke out. A group mutter of 'always' and 'we're stronger than to let them push us' rippled through the building and into the waiting crowd outside.

"Everyone should keep a look out on the eastern horizon. We've got at least a few days until they come storming over the edge into Resembool." His blond hair moved slightly in front of his right eye as he looked over the worried group. He looked over to his younger brother who stood in a doorway to the back of the shop, an older blond lady stood next to him. Both looked grave and frightful.

"Everyone who can perform alchemy needs to keep low. Hide if you have to, but show no signs of suspicion when they get here. This is the military. They're nothing but overgrown egos. We shall continue on with the festivals preparation. That will surely confuse them." He rallied the people in the shop, feeding their sense of security.

Hopping down from the counter he stood on, he careful darted between people over to his brother and the lady. His six foot height made it easy to tower over people in his way. The flood of people quickly dispersed into the town. He nodded to the two people and walked into the alley out back.

"We need to get the farm house prepared. They will defiantly come snooping around." The young lady mumbled.

"Winry, you head home. I'm going to take the horses up to the hill again. Take my little brother with you and go inform the other two." He brushed his shoulder length hair out of his face. Winry nodded and patted the smaller blonde's shoulder.

"Be careful, brother." The younger man tugged at his green hat, the tassels dangling on his shoulders.

He nodded and left the alley. Climbing onto the wagons bench, he steered the horses out of the town and onto the dirt path that led to the hilly side blocking the town from the military. They could see the smoke that had risen to the sky from the nearby town. The blazes of blue that shimmered along the town's horizon alerted of alchemy. Tossing his hood up on his brown cloak, he pushed the horses onward wanting a better look.

Keeping an even gaze at his surroundings he grew closer. The horses ran at full speed. The cart he sat on wobbled and clanked at every large bump. Sudden movement caught his eye to his left as a tower of ground rose like a snake and dashed across the land, heading to the town. There off to the side he saw three very muscular men mending buildings with solid bedrock from under the ground. Without warning, a small circular piece of ground shot up to his right, causing the horses to veer from their set path.

Keeping the horses even, he darted from the men. One man gave chase with the pillar of earth. Taking one quick look around the cart making sure it was clear; he jumped onto the wooden bar keeping the horses together. In haste, he pulled up the metal pin attaching the horses to the cart. The horses lunged forward with the excess weight now removed. The cart rolled into the pillar of ground, smashing most of it to small rocks.

He silently cursed to himself. This wasn't what he was expecting. Seeing a nearby tall hill, he raced the horses towards it. With a leap, the two horses side by side jumped over the top and onto the ground beaten dirt where they halted.

Many pairs of eyes gazed up at him, but could not spot his face from the darkness of the hood. Readjusting his feet on the wooden bar, he got ready to sprint out of the way of danger. Tents littered the ground and formed a small city. People started shouting behind him and the hill of ground spitting sharp poles at him and the horses.

The horses took off with a start further into the city of tents. Leaping over open flames and around scattering people, the horses went deeper into the city. Figuring he had a better chance at escape, he saddled the black stallion on his left. Reaching down to grip the wooden bar, a green light erupted from the edges, releasing the bar to be left behind. The brown mare to his right was released from his hold. She took off to the right and headed for home by instinct.

He held the reins tightly in his grasp. Taking in every detail he could, he noticed that there was at least twice the amount of soldiers they had figured. That was defiantly not a good sign.

His thoughts were interrupted as the stallion stopped and reared back, giving a shrilling screech. There in front of him was a lady glaring pointedly at him. Her hair pinned back tightly and her hand reaching for her gun. "Don't move!"

Another wave of ground bars sprang from behind him. The horse spun around to face the bars before scooting back. They would hit him and the lady on the ground if he didn't act fast. Reaching down he grabbed her and swung her onto the back of the horse. The horse immediately moved to the left, dodging the projectiles.

Backing the horse up farther and taking a right, he darted around tents. The lady automatically clinging to him for balance as they winded through the maze of tents.

"Sorry about that." He shouted back to her. "It was safer to come with me than be impaled by flying dirt sticks."

She grunted her approval and hung tighter.

They had gotten closer to the hill again as they circled back when a large wall of fire flared to life in front of them. The horse went to a dead stop and away from the flickering flames.

"Release my lieutenant." A coarse voice commanded.

He looked to his right and there stood a man with deep raven black hair, fingers poised to snap. He instantly knew who the man was. After hearing so many stories about him, it was impossible not to know who he was. "Relax, Colonel Mustang." Bending around, he helped the lady down.

"Who are you?" A dark onyx eye questioned him warily.

"I am simply no one." He bowed his head to Mustang. "Take care, Flaming Pony." With a chuckle he snapped the reins and took off over the flames and across the hill.

Both Mustang and Hawkeye watched after the hooded figure, confused.

"He saved me." Hawkeye said after a few brief moments.

Roy dropped his fingers, staring speechlessly. "It can't be..."


I love cliff hangers. Anyway, review because you love me.