Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage
Chapter 3
Nightmares
Minerva shivered as she wrapped her cloak around herself. For the end of summer, the climate in Siberia was near freezing and neither of the wizards were at all prepared for it.
"Why couldn't we apparate all the way to his house?" Minerva asked Severus as they trudged through the thick taiga forests of East Siberia. The trees hung over them, their huge canopies blocking the sky and much of the sunlight. It was difficult terrain climbing over the heavily forested mountains and Minerva was regretting ever seeing Dumbledore on the matter of the Eastern Sage. She could have been teaching her classes instead of this!
"The trees are so thick and the terrain is not navigated so apparating we might not land in too friendly of a spot," Severus huffed as he helped the Gryffindor professor up a steep incline. "It also seems that though the Eastern Sage gave up his wand, he managed to put a few wards around his house."
"What on earth would he need them for if he lives all the way out here? It isn't like anyone's going to come visiting-"
"I believe he feared that they might try," the man sighed and Minerva closed her mouth. She didn't know much about the Eastern Sage but it seemed that Albus and Severus did. She didn't know how long they have been following Mr. Elric but she knew that it was no coincidence that Severus knew where the man lived. It seemed now that with her curiosity having gotten the better of her, the conspiring men have included her in their concern with the old Alchemist. She was just afraid of where this might take her. As it was commonly said, curiosity killed the cat.
They continued on for a few good hours. For muggles traversing the countryside it would have taken a few good days but the two of them apparated where they could which cut some time and packed light. Minerva, having trouble on some of the rocky terrain, morphed into a feline part way through their trip as it was much easier to navigate on four legs than it was on two. Just as they managed to make it to the summit of one of the unmarked mountains Severus stopped as something on a nearby tree caught his attention.
"We are close," he muttered as Minerva morphed back into her normal form. She walked over to where he was analyzing the bark of the tree, wondering what he was doing until she caught sight of a strange glyph carved in the wood.
"Runic magic?" she huffed as she looked at the symbol, putting her glasses higher on her nose so she can see it properly. "It's the symbol of protection. Is this how he has hid his home for so long?" she asked her colleague who just nodded his head.
"He has a wide area encircled with these so they conceal everything," Severus muttered.
"How do you know all this Severus?" Minerva asked with concern as the two of them stepped past the tree in order to continue their journey to the ancient home but the instant they passed the trunk of the tree the cool brisk air of the taiga turned into a nice warm temperature, where summer should have been if they were anywhere else. Minerva took her heavy travelling cloak off and draped it over her arm for the rest of the journey. It seemed like even the Eastern Sage didn't want to deal with the harsh environment for the entire year. "What have you and Dumbledore been planning with Mr. Elric?"
"Flamel was concerned about Elric and wanted a few things for him," Severus said flatly. "It isn't a concern of many."
"Well it should be of mine," Minerva huffed to herself but it went unheard. They both wandered down off of the mountain top and into the depths of the forest now trapped in a summer's heat.
When they managed to get off of the mountain, there was a small clearing in the woods, not far ahead. No solid structures sat on the grass of the small meadow. Instead it was as if the earth and the grass rose up to make a small hill for the house that they were trying to find. A couple windows, a door, and a chimney, the basics for a house, seemed to be ingrained into the side of the hill, as if to welcome anyone into the depths of the earth. Minerva, as they walked up to it, studied the strange subterranean house a bit disappointed. For finding the house of an ancient being that no one has ever been able to find, she would have thought the house to be a little more pronounced. However the craftsmanship put into it was very sophisticated as simple designs seemed to have etched it's way into the wood itself. It was looked to be a woodworker's dream as all of them seemed to be hand carved and flourished.
"It's sealed shut," Severus muttered as he tried the door, noticing that the wooden plane was fused with the elegantly made frame. The man whipped out his wand and got ready to blow the door down but Minerva grabbed his wrist before he could do anything.
"Are you insane? I don't think Mr. Elric would like us blowing apart his door. We aren't guests but that doesn't mean we can just destroy everything!" She huffed at him.
"There is no other way in-" Severus started but Minerva already was walking over the top of the green grass roof and pointed her wand to the ground.
"Cuniculsulum!" she said stiffly and a hole dug itself into the earth and created a tunnel right from the roof into the Alchemist's underground home. The dirt was packed away making a clean and undisturbed entrance, ready to be put back upon their departure. Minerva sheathed her wand and with a huff descended down into the small house with the Slytherin professor regretfully following.
It was dark in the house but the light that came through the large round windows illuminated it enough for the wizards to get a good look around. It didn't seem too significant of a place. Like Minerva thought before, she expected something more flashy from a thousand year old man. The floor was made of nice thick and even larch and the interior walls were left bare for the most part, the thick clay soil being the finishing of the walls. Everything seemed to be made from the surrounding area, even then by hand. It was quaint and rather homey. It was no wonder Mr. Elric didn't like the stone walls of the castle. It seemed that he was more accustomed to his small earthly bungalow.
Tables and chairs were neatly placed however their surfaces were covered with notebooks and materials. Most of the parchments were coated in ancient scripts and maps that Minerva had to guess were part of the Alchemist's study. As Minerva looked around at the Alchemist's home, she saw cold cups sitting on the tables as if someone had been sitting there to read their morning paper. Infact, the more she looked around the place, the more she realised that it appeared as if the people living there just disappeared. Traces of living were scattered around like dirty dishes and open books. Mr. Elric must have been in a rush when he left however Minerva could only wonder why. Seeing these little disturbances in the house made Minerva feel a bit off put by the Alchemist. However, she tried to force down her uncomfortableness and do the job Dumbledore sent her there to do, recover some of his homely things.
No pictures hung on the walls for her to take however Minerva saw a few photographs lying amongst the heaps of papers. She walked over and brushed some of the notebooks and papers away to see the picture more clearly. It appeared to be a muggle family portrait as it didn't seem to be moving at all. A tall golden haired man and a shorter brown haired woman held onto who Minerva could only guess to be their sons. They were just infants at the time which put a small smile to Minerva's face. She wondered who the picture was of. The golden hair surely reminded the witch of the Eastern Sage but he was undoubtedly born before photographs were taken. She didn't think he had any descendants either. Determining it was a mystery for another day, Minerva tucked the photograph away in her pocket to take with her. She was sure that even the Eastern Sage would love a nice photograph in his room to make it more homey.
"I believe we should get him some clothes and… possibly some books-" Minerva started as she made a list of things the alchemist might need. As she opened up a wardrobe at the end of the house near a rather old yet neat bed, she noticed that most of Elric's clothes were simple muggle casuals. A few button downs and blazers filled his closet and the occasional red cloak. For a man with a complex life, he seemed to live simply.
"Severus, do you have that bag?" she asked as she started to pull a few of Elrics clothes from the closet. One thing that they had brought with them on this long trip was an old beaten carpet bag. Not knowing how much Dumbledore wanted them to retrieve for Elric they had enchanted the bag to be endless so they didn't have to worry about carrying capacity.
Hearing no response from her coworker she looked up to see Severus rather preoccupied with a door near the back of the house. The entire house was one rather large open room and yet Severus was very interested in one of the only doors. Minerva threw down the few pieces of clothes she was holding on the bed and walked over to where Severus was pulling out his wand.
"What are you doing, Severus? We are supposed to-"
"You are supposed to recover some of Elric's things. I am trying to recover something else," Severus muttered quietly. He rolled up his sleeves and silently chanted "Alohamora." The lock clicked open and Severus tried the knob. He cursed lightly as he found the door sealed exactly like the other one. Instead of waiting for Minerva's input he blasted the door down with his wand. The wood went splintering and slammed into the opposite wall, imprinting itself into the soil.
"Severus!" Minerva exclaimed as the man walked into the room. "You can't just-" she started to scold him but froze as she saw what was hidden behind the door. It wasn't one to the outside that she originally thought, it lead to a back room that must have been sectioned off from the house. It was dark, holding no windows, and dust cluttered the tables. Beakers and vials were set on top of them, old and unused. Sketches of strange gates were scattered over the walls and mysterious runes were scribbled anywhere they could. It looked like a laboratory of a mad man, for all Minerva knew, it was.
"What on Earth was he-" she muttered but stopped as she looked down to the floor boards. A giant dark brown stain on the floor near the wall. It was old, extremely old and seemed to have faded over the years but the wooden boards had soaked up the colour for permanent imprintment. Though many would have mistaken it for an old leak or a spill, she knew what it was instantly.
"Blood?" she whispered in horrified disbelief. Severus walked into the room and bent down, looking underneath the tables and benches as if trying to find something. He seemed to be studying the floor boards.
"Severus, what is going on here?" Minerva asked strictly, wanting to understand why this horrible place existed and why it was in the alchemist's home.
"This is nothing but an old crime scene I guess you could say," Severus said simply, ignoring her worry.
"But.. what are we doing here then? What are you looking for?! We were just supposed to look for his things-" she said, demanding an answer. The man froze as he seemed to have come upon what he was looking for. Near the far back corner of the room, the two wizards noticed the floorboards fused together, just like the doors were previously. Severus pulled out his wand again and Minerva looked over his shoulder wondering what on Earth he was going to do.
"Peribit!" he casted and Minerva saw a large section of the floorboards get cut out around the mysterious malformation. Severus knelt down and with all of his might heaved the heavy boards away from where they laid, opening up the wooden foundation.
"Oh my god," Minerva muttered as she stared into what lied beneath the floorboards. In the dark underlay of the house lied one thing that the Professors of Hogwarts thought that they would never see again. Glistening in even the dark lighting of the back room, laid the ruby encrusted sword of Godric Gryffindor. It's long silver blade, mightily sharp and strong, layed coated in a rather fine layer of a brown crumbly matte. More blood. Severus leaned down and picked the sword up gently in his hands, staring at its goblin craftsmanship. "Severus, what is it doing in Elric's house-"
"Minerva," the man sighed as he handed the sword to her gently. She grasped it, careful not to touch the dried blood that remained on the edge. A thought in the back of her mind told her that it had to do with the stain in the back of the room but she didn't think she could handle the connection at that point. "Flamel, since last year, has been telling us a few things about his old mentor and Dumbledore sent me to come recover a few relics."
"A few? But where did Elric get these? The sword of Gryffindor? He's a Ravenclaw!"
"According to Flamel… it was given to him-"
"By who?!"
"Godric himself," Severus told her as he bent back down into the foundation of the subterranean house and looted around for something else. Minerva looked back down at the sword in disbelief. How old was the Eastern Sage? Severus grabbed a hold of something out of Minerva's line of sight and pulled it out from the floorboards. He seemed a little dissettled which scared Minerva even more. After all they saw that day, the man didn't look too disturbed until now. Minerva leaned over his shoulder trying to see what he was holding, her curiousity getting the better of her.
In his hands he held an old iron mask that seemed to be delicately hammered and engraved by an excellent blacksmith. However aside from the handiwork put into it the mask was absolutely frightening in its detail. The face was distorted into one of pain, the mouth opened and down turned as if it were screaming, the eyes open and scared. The mouth, though open, had a funnel in the interior of the mask that would have pried the wearer's open, silencing them from talking but not from any other ungodly noises the person might make if forced to wear it. Minerva felt a cold shiver run down her back as she noticed that the clasps that held the mask on and in place were strong iron and weren't made to break however it seemed that they were bashed open as they hung limp and distorted from their original form.
"What… Severus, what is it?" Minerva whispered as the man held it, just a entranced and horrified as she was. Whatever the mask was made for it wasn't meant to come off. Minerva couldn't imagine the pain and torture that the person behind it had to live through. Severus flipped it over a few times, still studying the design of it. There was a line of runes around the mask's interior holding some sort of ancient magic to it Minerva couldn't figure out. Whatever it was, it had to be dark for what else could have been carved into a device to devastatingly horrid?
"This is what Dumbledore wanted me to pick up," Severus mumbled absentmindedly as he stared into it. "It is the only thing that can stop the Eastern Sage."
….
Edward let out a strangled cry as his body, scortched and burnt black, was pulled off the pile of embers that surrounded the pyre. The chains around his wrists and legs were bright orange from baking in the fire's heat and ate away at his skin and cooked him down to his bones. His lung hurt from the smoke and his muscles were charred like a pig left to roast too long. It hurt so bad! With as much pain as he was in he should have been dead. Any normal person would have been but around him was the alchemic crackle of energy as his skin slowly regrew, shedding the burnt meat off like a layer of skin.
Edward gasped for air as his lungs were healed from inhaling the hot smoke. He felt cool tears of pain and terror fill his eyes and drown out the firey pain of burnt skin on his face. Sobs wracked his chest as the soldier's carried his limp body off of the burning pyre and onto a small stage that was set up for the execution. This was the seventh day he had been pulled onto that stage. It was the tenth failed burning. The number of beheadings were of a higher count.
The soldiers forced him down on his knees but he didn't even have the energy to stand. He pleaded to them with the breaths that escaped his terror filled sobs but his words fell upon deaf ears. A raging crowd swarmed around the small stage, fists pointing angrily at him like he was vermin carrying a plague. Screams roared like the fire that had once consumed him as people taunted him with fear in their own eyes.
"He's a witch! Fire should have killed him!"
"A demon! Immortal!"
"Burn him again!" Edward heard the angered cries call forth. The priests beside him muttered prayers and consulted amongst each other their concerns about the demon they have captured. They listed different forms of torture, blades, fire, and water that were the most effective against witches. Edward shook his head as he constantly denied their accusations.
"Please, please," he sobbed, tears were running down his face but it seemed little to hold anyone's concern. "I am not a witch. Please. Magic doesn't exist." His mutterings only earned him a hard whack on the head which sent him curled down onto the rough unsanded planks of the execution stage. It only made him cry harder.
"Edward, calm down. We are here with you," he heard a soft familiar voice call to him in his ear. He tried to turn his head to see who it was but there was no one but the raving priests and executioners around him.
"The Duke wants to see the immortal. He offered us instructions on-"
"Brother, everything will be alright," he heard the unforgetable voice of his brother whisper in his ear drowning out the conspiring priests. A shudder ran down Edward's chest and he tried to choke down his sobs. He quieted down as he listened to the soothing nonsense that his friends were telling him. They were all there, he had to remember. They were all there with him.
"Brother, you are never alone, remember that. We will figure out a way to help you, but know you are not alone." Edward didn't have words for his brother. He didn't think he could talk without begging once more for the pain to stop. He simply nodded his head tiredly as his body still shaked with fear. However just as he seemed to be calming down, orders sprang up from the soldiers around him.
"Get him up. Get the witch over to the block. Keep his head down-" Edward' body was jerked as the soldiers lifted him up. His heart leapt and he pulled and fought against them, no matter how weak he was. A terrified scream rang out through the air as they shoved his head down on a cold iron anvil. A dirty man with a smile filled with too much pleasure loomed over him.
"Just his size," his scratchy voice hummed and suddenly, blocking his vision was the inside of a thick iron mask. Intricate runes were carved delicately into its iron body. They glowed red with the heat of the fire. It was an iron mask of infamy. Edward pulled and wrythed under the arms that held him down to the stone but they wouldn't budge even as the mask came down closer towards his face.
"N-no… No!" Edward screamed as he felt his heart beat furiously in his throat. Edward closed his eyes as felt the cool metal slide against his face and the iron bit slide into his mouth allowing him to release one last scream before the mask could silence him forever. He fought but the mask was locked in place around his head, a heavy weight for the end. He sobbed loudly as he shook his head and banged it against the anvil trying to get it off of him. The people inside him, his brother and his friends who had promised to be there for him were gone. He only heard the shouts and scream from the angry crowd around him, taunting and laughing at him. They blended together into a harmony of rage which quickly filled his heart with a fear that he knew would never leave until the day they finally figured out how to kill him.
"Edward-"
"He can't die-"
"Edward-"
"To the dungeons!"
"Kill him!"
"EDWARD" a loud voice shouted and Edward shot up out of bed as he tried to break free from the invisible binds against him. He reached up to his face and frantically began clawing at it to get the cold metal trap off of his head. A hand gripped his wrist trying to stop him but he fought as hard as he could. He needed to get it off.
"Edward, stop… STOP!" the loud voice ordered him and suddenly Edward felt his eyes shoot open and light blinded him in absence of the dark abyss. He blinked the blindness away and he saw the concerned steel face of Mustang kneeling before him. The man was holding onto his trembling wrists, stopping him from clawing his own face off with his hands. The man's gloves scratched his skin as they were rough from the flint that Edward intertwined in them when he created the body. Edward looked down at his own hands to see that he had drew some blood as his fingers were stained a light crimson color. However there wouldn't be a scratch or a scar. There never was.
Edward's head quickly snapped around as he tried to figure out where he was. Soft white blankets covered him and a middle aged witch hung over him in nursing garb with as concerned face as Mustang's would have been. He was in the Læcedom Rum, the Hospital Ward. It was only a dream.
He closed his eyes tiredly and collapsed back into bed, a wave of exhaustion escaping him. A thick layer of sweat coated him and he felt like his skin was on fire, as if the flames in his dream were all real.
"You had a nightmare," Roy stated flatly, snapping him out of his wonderings.
"Yeah, what gave that away," Edward retorted breathlessly, trying to sound annoyed but the fear of the dream seemed to have stuck to his voice as it quivered with every shake of his breath. He brought his hands up to his face and saw that they were shaking terribly. He quickly clasped them together as to try and cover up how badly it had shook him.
"It was about the mask wasn't it," the man asked, seeing through his facade easily and Edward silently nodded his head.
"Among other things," he mumbled vaguely. Roy sighed, knowing full well the tortures he had lived through as, he too, had to live them inside of the stone. There was a gap of silence as the man waited for him to continue, even though he knew that was the last thing he was going to do. It wasn't something Edward was ever going to talk about.
"Wh-why is it so hot in here?" Edward complained as he tried to divert the conversation. The witch, who Edward didn't know the name of, rounded to the other side of the bed and gently placed her hand on his forehead as if to check for a temperature. Edward fought his urge to fight it as he was still squeamish from anything touching his face.
"That would be the invigoration draught. Feeling warm will be a side effect on many. Your friend here told me you needed it… rather angrily," the woman said giving the armor her own glare. He guessed that Roy must have forgotten that they didn't speak old english and tried to tell the nurse what happened. Edward could just see the argument rising now. Though he didn't know the nurse, he could tell she wasn't one to lose a fight. "You seemed to have overworked yourself. Those pixies can be mighty nasty. But it seems you did more than a fine job with them. There doesn't seem to be anything left but ash," she hummed as she seemed to have found nothing else wrong with him aside from him being unconscious for some period of time. Edward groaned as he waved her away, desperately wanting his space.
"I-I'm fine… I'm fine now. Just… a bit dizzy that's all. Guess I hit my head," he mumbled, giving Roy an effective glare. The armor shrugged lightly not seeming to care too much on his opinion of hospitals. The nurse rolled her eyes as she uncorked another bottle of draught and poured a rather large glass of the distasteful drink. Edward grimaced as he saw the thick blue liquid settle in the glass. She handed it to him and he reluctantly took it.
"This is the last glass, once down you can leave. You needed triple the dose just for it to appear to work," she said curiously. "You are the easiest patient to heal I ever had, let me tell you. However I don't want to see you in here ever again." The woman waved her wand and the blood off of his fingers and face disappeared. He lightly touched his face where he clawed at it. It really did feel like the mask was still on him. It was cold, suffocating. He remembered the long years trapped behind it. He didn't even know magic like that existed, that was, until it was already on him.
"Edward," Mustang scolded him lightly as he felt the armor pull his hand away again."It's not on you. It's gone." Edward snapped out of his thoughts and noticed that he lightly was scratching his face again. He shivered as he dropped his hand back down to his lap and wrapped his fingers around the potion glass firmly.
"So drink this and I can leave?" he asked sheepishly and the nurse nodded her head. Taking a deep breath, Edward lifted the glass with his shaking hands and downed the nasty contents. Tasted like overly tart raspberries. An instant feeling of vitality filled him and his trembling slowed down ever so slightly. His skin heated up and he felt horribly hot, like he was boiling on a summer day. But he felt awake and the more energy he had the farther away the horrible dream seemed to be. He slowly kicked his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Mustang's armor clacked forward to help steady him. Though he still felt lopsided and his legs quaked a bit, Edward waved him off.
"What time is it?" he asked quietly as he lightly moved forward to grab his cloak which was laying on the bed next to his. He picked up the thick fabric to put it on but thought differently and just draped it over his arm. The fire was too hot for that.
"The Great Hall should be open for breakfast, dear. I would go get some if I were you," the nurse ordered him gently. "That's not a suggestion." Edward nodded his head and softly thanked her before heading towards the door.
"Bastard, you are good for a few more hours I guess?" he asked as he passed the metal suit. It nodded its helmeted head. It has been a while since Edward had placed him in the suit and he guessed he really did over do it if the bonds that kept Mustang in the armor still held strong. Knowing that the man would find him if anything went wrong, Edward continued his silent walk towards the door. Mustang didn't follow him and he didn't expect him to.
"Are you going to be alright?" Alphonse's voice asked him, deep worry laced into it.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "I just need some space for a while."
….
"I never saw anyone so scared from a dream before," Madam Pomfrey said lightly as she stripped the bed that the alchemist was laying on moments before. Roy sighed as he bent over in his huge armored body and started to pick up some of the potion bottles from the bedside table and set them on a tray to be put away. It had been hundreds of years since Edward learned how to forge temporary bodies for the souls in the stone but he still never got used to being in it. He was big, bulky, and he couldn't feel anything.
"Yeah, well, he just had a lot happen to him," he muttered as he picked up the tray and took it over towards the potions cabinet. The glasses clinked together as he moved and he was afraid he might break them.
"I guess with such a… long life he must have seen a great deal of things," she huffed. With a whip of her wand the dirty blankets sailed off to somewhere unknown and a new freshly folded set came out. She started to make the bed slowly as Mustang set the potions away in the cabinet. "Every scar has a story yet… for a man who can heal from anything he sure has a lot of them."
"Most of them came before he had the stone," Mustang answered honestly, knowing that Dumbledore had told the faculty who Edward was. "When he expected to have a short life." With the stone instantly healing Edward's body, scars and fatal wounds just didn't exist. However the few that he did manage to sustain over the thousand years bearing the stone, Edward would never talk to anyone about them. The nurse looked at him curiously, pausing in her housekeeping to raise an eyebrow at his statement.
"And the not 'most' ones?" she asked gently as if not to pry too hard into the boy's life. Roy sighed as he set the tray down and quietly closed the cabinet. He could tell that the nurse, as tough as she might be, really did care for every patient that entered her ward. With Edward being such a strange case, she must have taken a liking towards him, which was really tough to do. The kid's rude, tough, and obnoxious behavior mixed with his intimidating presence of being an ancient and genius man, pushed most people away. The fact that his hundred years of self induced isolation destroyed any and all of his social skills also wasn't helping either. Roy could already tell that most of the faculty were wary of him even after one day. However, the nurse wasn't intimidated, either because she dealt with many rowdy patients before or because she didn't care who Edward was. She treated him like a normal patient, and seemed to be really concerned for him even though the dangers of his nightmares were long gone.
"Before Hogwarts was made… we didn't know much about the relation of magic and the normal world," Roy told her hesitantly. His voice rang in the hollow metal entrapment he was in as he tried to think of how to explain to her what had really scared Edward so much. The nurse stayed quiet and listened intently. "Most of the dutchies in Europe were fine with the thought of potions and spells but… others… not so much. We just ended up in the wrong one and they… mistaken Edward for a witch."
"But… isn't he a wizard?"
"He doesn't like to be called that," Roy said a little too quickly Pomfrey was a little taken back.
"Oh, I am sorry-"
"No… no. It's just… well we didn't know magic existed at the time. And he was put to trial as a witch yet…" he muttered but his voice trailed off as he remembered the horrible screams his subordinate had let out as the fire ran up his feet and burned his body on the stake. Roy couldn't help him. No matter how hard Edward screamed and cried out, Roy could do nothing to help him as he was stuck inside the stone. The only thing he could give Edward was his voice as a reminder that he wasn't suffering alone, but even that was taken when the villagers had used that damn mask. Masks of infamy were made to humiliate people trapped behind them. The one that Edward bore was made to restrain him. Roy didn't know how they made it, how they knew it worked. Runic Magic was not something muggles knew how to use but they were on the mask that they forced around Edward's head. They blocked the tectonic energy from him, much like how Father did to the whole country of Amestris. He couldn't use alchemy with the mask on and because of that he couldn't use the stone. Without it, Edward was alone.
A sudden hand resting on his forearm snapped him out of his memories and he looked up to see the nurse looking sympathetically up at him. Even though he was an expressionless suit of armor, it seemed that Pomfrey knew when he was hurting. Without finishing, she seemed to understand.
"He's safe here now, that is what matters," she told him softly. Roy nodded his head knowing it to be true. Out of everything that Edward went through in his years on this side of the Gate, he was at least still alive and healing. Though the memories of the pain and the torture of the trials and crusades still hung over him like a cloak he was unable to shed, Edward was alive and pushing through. That was what mattered.
"Yeah, well, if only he knew that," Roy said clearing his throat, even though he had nothing to clear in the armor. It was just a habit he had even when he was just a soul. "Um… thank you for the miht drenc. Edward has a tendency to forget his own limits."
"The Invigoration draught?" the nurse asked as she suddenly snapped out of her stupor.
"Oh, yeah, that," Roy answered awkwardly. "Sorry about before I am just so used to speaking the old tongue-"
"Don't worry about that, lad," the woman chuckled absently. "It doesn't take much to forget-"
"Unfortunately not for everything," Roy mumbled. He thanked the nurse one last time with a little bow and silently left the ward. He needed to find Edward.
…
Edward stumbled through the Entrance Hall in a daze. He knew he needed to go to the Great Hall for some breakfast but he wasn't quite up to fighting the staring eyes from the faculty. He just needed to be alone for a little bit.
"Brother, you should talk to someone. It might make you feel better-"
"I am fine I just… need to get some air," Edward stuttered as he found that his own feet were leading him straight for the entranceway. The doors were open, beckoning sunshine.
"You know you cant-"Alphonse started as Edward tried reaching his hand towards the barrier to test it again. He knew he couldn't go but with Alphonse obvious statement he felt his false hopes crushed. He felt a tightness in his chest and he grabbed his shirt trying to ease the pain he felt there. He tiredly rested his head against the invisible wall to the outside and closed his eyes. A tired defeated chuckle escaped his lips as he felt a cool summer breeze rush past him. Air was able to pass through and yet he was stuck on this side of the doorway.
"Edward," Winry's soft voice said.
"Hmm?" Edward hummed quietly, unable to speak at the moment.
"You are still shaken up-"
"Obviously," he huffed. "It isn't something you can easily forget. Even after all these years..."
"Try to talk to someone. Please," her voice of reason spoke.
"I have 50,875,621 people inside me. I am practically a social butterfly," he sighed tiredly.
"It's not the same now is it?" Edward glanced back behind him where the doors to the Great Hall hung open. He heard a bunch of chatter and laughing coming from it. It wasn't like the voices in his dream, it was light hearted, happy. Edward frowned as he felt a tug in his chest from the thought of it. He had that many people inside of him yet he knew he would never be able to see their faces ever again. They would never be able to interact ever again. Armored bodies were limited to only the stronger souls who would last in them for that long. Without spirits to attach their souls to their bodies, others would just float away into oblivion, back to truth. Some of his friends had learned that the hard way. Even then though, an armored body can only do so much.
Edward closed his eyes in exhaustion. He didn't feel like he had the energy to move let alone talk. He just wanted to get away.
"It's been ages since you actually talked to anyone. Ever since Sir Porpington died you became kind of a hermit," Alphonse said lightly though his voice was filled with concern. "You don't know how to talk to people anymore."
"Yeah well, I don't want to," Edward huffed under his breath as he stood up away from the door. "Why would I talk to them… especially about this? The only people that would understand, the only ones that I care about-"
"Are inside of you," Winry finished with a whisper. Hearing her say it out loud was like a stab into his heart. He closed his mouth for a bit as he took in a deep breath to try and contain himself.
"Yes, or… gone," he finished stiffly trying to end the conversation.
"Brother-" Alphonse started to say but Edward shook his head massaging the back of his neck tiredly.
"Just… not now," he sighed tiredly as he turned back towards the great hall. He stared at the open doors and watched some of the students walk out of it chattering happily to each other. Groaning to himself and massaging a headache away before it would be able to bloom, he started towards the hall for some breakfast that the nurse had ordered him to get.
He stumbled into the great hall to find that he had much the same effect as the previous morning. Everyone's happy chatter quieted down as their eyes locked on him when he passed. A sudden self consciousness grew over him as he strode down the aisle towards the High table. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out to ease the nervousness that grew inside of him. Edward quickly filled a plate of food like the previous day, the eyes of everyone in the room on him, and turned to leave with the intent of going back to his room, but before he could get to the door he had a few students walk up to him nervously. They were a couple ravenclaws from his second year class.
"Professor, we… we think we understand the first law-"
"Tell me during class-" Edward sighed as he tried to push past them but they were persistent.
"But we don't have class today and… well-"
"We would like to see if we are right-"
"You're not," Edward said curtly, making the students frown. The looks on their faces was filled with hurt as their hopes were squashed by the teacher they were trying to impress. Edward looked down at the ground quickly so he didn't have to see the children's torn expressions. Nervous and scared as they already were, the two students from his own house stepped back and cleared his path, their hearts broken. Not even looking at them he walked past, out of the great hall and towards the staircase.
"Edward," Winry scolded, her voice thick with disappointment. Edward tuned the rest of her lecture out as he marched through the castle in solitude. Even with the 50,875,621 other people inside of him, he still couldn't help but feel alone.
…
Harry watched as Professor Elric exited the Great Hall leaving the two Ravenclaw students in his wake. He was never too close with any ravenclaws let alone those from a grade higher than he was, but he felt some sympathy for the disappointment that they held. The Professor was cold, he was cruel, and he didn't seem to be the one to give second chances let alone first ones.
"Reminds me of Snape," Ron muttered as if he read his mind. "Sulks around all day, muttering nonsense to himself-"
"He does tend to talk to himself a lot, doesn't he?" Hermione asked as if she was suddenly aware of it. "I saw him just outside the great Hall when I was coming in. He looked… upset-""
"Not the word I would have used," Ron complained just to earn a stab in the side. He rubbed his ribs in pain and glared at the offender. "I am just saying, he's probably so rude he offended himself. He didn't even give them a chance. How are we supposed to learn alchemy if he doesn't even let us try to answer the three laws? I really don't know how we are supposed to do this."
"I was looking into the library for some books to try and figure them out but there is just not enough out there on alchemy-"
"Why don't you use the one you had before. He took it from you. He might just be hiding the answers so he doesn't have to teach us."
"I did actually but… I think he was right. That alchemy seemed wrong. It required wand work and what the Professor did yesterday..."
"He didn't even have a wand he just claps his hands," Harry said remembering the previous evening in Lockhart's classroom when the pixies were wreaking havoc everywhere. Lockhart proved how incompetent he was as a teacher even more than he already did. Hermione still thought that it was all for 'hands on experience'. However they didn't know what they were doing, neither did Lockhart it seemed. And what came to their actual fright was the fact that the last teacher left in the room didn't even have a wand.
"How can you be a wizard and not even have a wand?" Ron announced loudly.
"Because he's not a wizard," a rough voice said behind them. The three gryffindors spun around in their seats and stared wide eyed at the black suit of armor that their professor had created to defeat the pixies. Though for being a large clunky suit of armor, it moved near silently. Harry had heard of magic being able to animate suits of armor, but he never actually had a conversation with one. They weren't conscious. They didn't have a voice, but this one did. Their Professor was able to create and give life to a suite of armor all without a wand. That was impossible.
"You-You're," Ron stumbled as he tried to speak in the presence of the intimidating armor.
"Colonel Roy Mustang," the voice in the armor rang out, "And I would respect it if you didn't talk behind my subordinate's back. He has it hard enough as it is." The three of them looked at each other guiltily. They weren't expecting the armored man to overhear them. However instead of scolding them farther the man seemed distracted. He looked around the Great Hall as if searching for something. "You were talking about Elric. You must have seen him. Where did he go?" Harry pointed towards the door and the Colonel looked over his shoulder as if expecting to see the professor standing there. Seeing as that wasn't the case he let out a long sigh and thanked the three of them. He turned to leave and his armor clanked with him.
"Wait… um… Mr. Mustang what do you mean that the Professor isn't a wizard? There are muggle wards everywhere, if he wasn't a wizard-" Hermione started but the black armor froze and the red glowing eyes of it glared back at her.
"He just doesn't like to be called that. I would hate for you to figure out why," the armor said quickly. "Now if you will excuse me I need to find your teacher." The three of the watched the strange suit of armor stride out of the room with strict steps. After the man was gone Hermione leaned in, hoping that no unexpected visitors would pop into their conversation.
"So he's a wizard he just doesn't want to be?" she asked them curiously.
"Who doesn't want to be a wizard?" Harry asked innocently. Magic was his salvation from the Dursleys and boring normal life. It was wondrous and amazing. He couldn't imagine anyone not wanting any part of it.
"I don't like that guy," Ron muttered as he glanced back towards the door where the armor disappears. "To be able to do all of that… without magic? Something has to be going on-"
"Creation of conscious life by magic is physically impossible. I highly doubt Alchemy is able to do it too-" Hermione mumbled as she started to think.
"But the professor just did it! The result was standing right in front of you-"
"How isn't it possible? We don't know anything about alchemy yet," Harry asked cutting off Ron's outbursts.
"Well," Hermione started as she tried to process all of her thoughts. "It just doesn't sound equivalent now does it?"
….
Edward sat in the empty window of the middle courtyard with his breakfast plate in lap and his legs dangling over the edge, toeing the green grass of late summer. The courtyard was the only place in the foundation of the entire castle where he could be outside for even a short time. It was the small length of grass trapped between the four walls of the castle with a small roofed walkway overhead incase it rained. It was small, cramped, and nearly packed with students all the time which was why he never went there. But being so early in the morning, Edward guessed that the students had better things to do than to sit in the courtyard and jabber on about pointless nonsense. Frankly he was quite relieved. Though it was practically a dog pen that the headmaster gave him for some run space, like an obedient puppy he took it. The feeling of being trapped was so overwhelming him he just needed to get outside, even if he still was surrounded by four walls. Though it eased his panic a bit, Edward still found his hand twitching to reach up and scratched his face every now and then. He wished more than anything just to leave the stupid magic castle and to get away from all of the horrible memories but he couldn't. He was a prisoner though Dumbledore refused to call him that.
Edward sighed as he poked at his food, not really eating it, but taking in the color of the well kept grass. The sun wasn't up high enough to cast light past the walls and into the courtyard so it was ridden with shadows. Even the wind couldn't get into the small green. It was just a mimic of freedom, a false hope. Edward could feel the souls inside of him try to comfort him. Winry and Alphonse were probably worried about him, but he tuned them out, blocking himself off from the concern of the stone. He just needed time, but that seemed to be the only thing he really had left.
Taking a small unsatisfactory bite of his pumpkin bread, Edward gaze out across the yard to see a figure moving in the opposite walkway. At first he thought it to be a student, the first in a swarm of many to come and he got up on his feet to leave but stopped. As he looked closer to the figure he noticed that it was white, pale white, and nearly transparent. He felt his heart skip a beat when he realised it was a ghost. The woman's hair flowed down to her waist and her long dress moved effortlessly in her pale appearance. His heart beated slow and hard in his chest as he stared at the figure floating across the way.
It can't be, he thought in shock as the woman's appearance was all too familiar. The sharp look in her eye, the tall purposeful strides. It just can't be her. As the ghost rounded the corner gracefully Edward found his heart freezing up as he stared into the face of his old professor.
"Professor Ravenclaw!" Edward shouted out suddenly in fright of himself. He was quite literally staring at a ghost from his past. Though he knew the poor woman to be long gone, just seeing her was a shock to the heart. Having not seemed to hear him, Edward set his plate down and sped down the walkway towards her. "Professor Ravenclaw, wait! Please!" he begged her and the apparition halted for a fraction of a minute just so that he could catch up.
"I am not who you think I am," the soft voice of the ghost said stiffly, though it wasn't cold at all. Edward stopped to catch his breath and listened to her. She turned slightly and Edward stared as he got a better look at the woman he was chasing. His heart dropped in dismay as he realised that it wasn't his old professor, the one person who really helped him in the first few years he had landed in this crazy and miserable world.
"Oh," Edward mumbled to himself as he straightened out, his shoulders still slumped in defeat. "Hello Helena."
"Hello Paracelsus," the founder's daughter replied. She looked so similar to her mother Edward unfortunately mistook her but he knew that they couldn't have been any more different. "You don't look well."
"Um… yeah… well that happens to people-"
"Not to you," she said flatly, her voice smooth and her eyes piercing Edward glared at the woman. He remembered her at hogwarts when she was first born. She was intelligent, everything a ravenclaw should be, but she was extremely jealous. Edward saw the way she looked at her mother's diadem when she grew older. He finished his schooling and then was just studying under the professor for years as an intern. He watched Helena grow up and she watched him as he didn't. He remembered the day that she found out about the stone. He refused to teach her and turned to a fight of the ages, though unheard of by many. It was only when she ran away that the fighting ceased. It was when Rowena died of heartbreak when it began again ten fold.
"You could have saved her, you know. Healed her," Helena started. Edward felt his chest tighten up as he remembered the death at the bedside of the old woman. It was his first encounter with the shock of not aging; to watch all of your friends die while you stay the same. Hohenheim had told him about the burden before the promised day, but before Rowena Ravenclaw, he didn't know how much of an impact it had. "Instead," the young woman continued, "you keep it all to yourself, not even sharing the knowledge that makes you great-"
"It doesn't make me great!" Edward scolded her. "Your mother died of a broken heart. She couldn't stand being without you and yet you stayed away-"
"Ha! You can't die of a broken heart! Though I bet, to you, it sure feels like it sometimes," Helena started out mocking but her voice went soft as Edward felt his chest tighten with her words. He looked down in shame. He gripped the collar of his coat tightly as if it was suffocating him.
"Yes," he whispered softly and Helena looked down on him in pity, eyes full of sorrow. Edward shook his head, trying to beat the intruding thoughts away. "Why are you here Helena, what do you want?"
"I wanted to talk to you about your class-"
"Yes, it's what you wanted all of these years right? For me to actually teach alchemy-"
"No," the woman cut in. "You aren't teaching alchemy. You are just pretending to. I see how you ran your classes and talked to your students."
"When they understand the three laws I will teach them in full but they haven't done that yet-"
"They try and you insult them without giving them a chance. I watched you in class. You couldn't have been any worse. You pushed the students away and never gave them right answers to their questions. You don't give them a chance like those two ravenclaws."
"They don't have the right answer they couldn't-"
"Paracelsus," Helena scolded him, cutting him off. "One thing you have lost sight of was the purpose of the house of Ravenclaw-"
"It's for the wise, knowledgeable,"Edward muttered starting to recited the house summary.
"Wrong! Don't you remember my mother at all?"
"Of course I do! Along with the Ambrosius family she was the one who helped me get away from that wretched dutchy. I couldn't forget her-"
"And yet you have!" she yelled at him. "My mother fought for you to stay in the school not because you had a knowledgeable mind but because you had the passion to learn. She taught you because you held the essence of the Ravenclaw house in you. It isn't about being smart it's about understanding the power of learning. How could you forget that?"
"I haven't forgotten that I just don't care anymore!" Edward retorted. If the ghost could have blushed in anger she would have but unfortunately spirits were just images of the past and had no physical body. Helena, though have aged to a nice young woman, glared and pouted at him like a child, cheeks puffed ever so slightly turning a dark silver from her ghostly flush. Edward remembered that face from when Rowena was tutoring him and she wasn't allowed to join in. He closed his eyes in aggravation and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a hot breath of air. "I don't mean that. I just… I-"
"In the stone's youth you have become a bitter old man. Teach your students like they are your peers. They have the will to learn. Don't deny them any longer," she ordered him.
"I don't want to teach alchemy. Even if they do want to learn…," Edward muttered. "You know I didn't choose to do this. I didn't choose any of this-"
"And so your life continues on a path that isn't your own," Helena sighed as she stared at him, eyes filled with pity. "We never choose anything we just have to make the best of what we got. Living with the stone has made you forget how to live as a person. You want so little but only what you can't have. It has made you angry and you push the very things away that might just make being here all the better-"
"And that is?" Edward asked impatiently. Helena looked absolutely disappointed that he hadn't figured it out yet. She shook her head in dismay and simply said.
"People." Edward frowned as Helena repeated what Alphonse and Winry were trying to tell him earlier.
"But how are people supposed to help if they just keep finding new ways to torture me-"
"Remember you old fool," Helena said sharply, mimicking her mother's strict voice that she used to use all the time in his tutoring sessions when he was in Hogwarts. He shut his mouth quickly as she continued. "You don't get to choose what happens to you. You just make the best of what you have. Now teach your class and help the school or else I will see to it that you remember where you were before Hogwarts helped you."
"I don't think I need your help with that," Edward hissed coldly under his breath as he remembered his overhanging nightmare he had in the hospital wing and Helena just smirked after her threat.
"I know, but I sure can make it a lot worse," she said before she spun around and glided off to wherever her ghostly form was heading previously. Edward watched her as she disappeared out of the courtyard and her body's illuminescence faded into the depths of the castle. She reminded him so much of her mother and yet she was hell to him. Edward muttered some ungodly curses under his breath as he marched back to where he had left his half eaten breakfast plate. He picked it up and flopped back down in the crook he had wedged himself in before.
"You know, sometimes I wish I could have strangled her," Edward growled as he angrily took a few bites of his breakfast.
"Brother, she's… already dead," Alphonse muttered, stating the obvious.
"Looks like someone beat me to it-"
"Edward!" Winry gasped at him.
"I am joking," he grumbled flatly. "She's just…"
"Right when you are wrong and wrong when you are right," Winry answered for him. Edward nodded his head just for Winry's satisfaction. "That's just how women work," she smirked.
"Of course it is," he muttered in disbelief.
"But… Helena is right, Edward. Just try to teach your class-"
"I just-" Edward started to retort but cut himself off. "I don't know if I can."
"Brother, you have been learning alchemy your entire life," Alphonse stated. "You can do this."
"I know but what if… what if-"
"It won't happen again, Edward. Flamel was a wicked man. You are working with children. They aren't like him." Edward groaned as he massaged his brow. Everything from the past few days was so overbearing to him it was driving him insane. If he could he would be back in his home finishing his research, hopefully finding a way back home. Even thinking about Amestris just made him home sick, giving him a headache upon the many he already had. However as he had to keep reminding himself, he couldn't leave. He was trapped in the stone castle, unable to even go outside for a walk. It was too much like back then. Edward suddenly felt a hand grab his wrist and pull it away. He looked up to see the clanking armor of Roy standing next to him, concern flowing through his soul fire eyes. Edward glanced down at his hands and realised that he must have started scratching his face again. How long was this nightmare going to hang over him?
"Edward, your classes are starting," Roy said sternly, avoiding the obvious questions that were floating through his head. Edward knew that he just wanted to ask if he was alright, tell him to go talk to someone, but he knew that Edward wouldn't listen.
"I hate castles," Edward muttered as he got up from where he was sitting and made his way towards the Dark Arts tower, the hollow suit of armor following behind him.
….