Chapter 3
Ed trudged along with his hands shoved in his pockets, the one sleeve of his sweater bunched around his right wrist and the other sleeve leaving his left wrist exposed. He didn't really want to be here, but he couldn't very well back down from Scar's subtle challenge. He also would probably never quite shake the uneasiness, however slight, at the idea of Winry being alone with the Ishvalan. Yes, fine, he had become a respected leader of his people, a devoted husband and father, a damn hero, but Ed had a hard time letting go of the past. He always had. Now the respect that was slowly and grudgingly growing for his former enemy was warring in his mind with the animosity that he was unable and, perhaps a little unwilling, to release. It made him feel sullen and put upon.
Winry had managed not only to shed her bitterness and hatred, she had embraced the killer of her parents, both figuratively and actually. Well, that was Winry. It was impossible not to love someone with that capacity for goodness. Maybe some of it had rubbed off on Scar. It had sure saved his life. Lucky bastard.
That being the case, it perhaps shouldn't have been so unlikely for those two to be drawn together. Perhaps it was just some sort of weird hiccup in the fabric of space and time that flipped fate upside down, or whichever way it was now facing. Maybe justice considered itself served. Maybe it was still waiting. Maybe it had thrown its hands up in exasperation and moved on to something that made more sense.
Anyway, here they were, on the road to the cemetery to perform some sort of Ishvalan mumbo-jumbo. Ed was not into that sort of thing. He didn't think Winry was either, but it seemed like she and Scar were somehow doing each other a favor by going through with this. Ed didn't see the point. Uncle Urey and Aunt Sara had been buried years ago. On the other hand, it was only right for Scar to come and pay his respects for having put them in the ground in the first place.
But somehow, something was rankling, poking Ed in sensitive areas of his brain. He walked a few paces ahead of the others. Behind him, Winry and Scar were engaged in light conversation with Danika joining them from time to time. Ed could feel his face grow warm as he realized that what he was feeling was jealousy. Scar was certainly not a rival for Winry's hand, but he had come to hold a special place in her affections. Sure, Winry's heart was as big as the world and had plenty of room, but Ed wasn't sure he liked sharing even a small portion of that capacious space with the former alchemist killer. He felt embarrassed and childish to harbor such thoughts. He told himself that what made Winry happy should make him happy, too. They were getting married the very next day and Scar would be going home where he belonged and the weave of the fabric of time and space would align itself back to normal.
"So how come Stanno didn't show up?" Winry asked, a touch of humor in her voice.
"He stayed in Ishval," Scar sounded a little evasive.
"Well, yeah, I figured that," Winry went on. "I'm not exactly heartbroken that he's not here, but he seems like the kind of guy who likes to be included."
"He is," Scar agreed. He paused a few moments, and when he spoke again, it sounded like the words cost him his very soul. "I…appointed him lieutenant governor."
Winry drew in a dramatic gasp, and even Ed looked back over his shoulder in surprise at Scar, who quickly added, "Temporarily! He has no authority to make policy decisions in my absence, and I told him that I would be checking my desk for his heel marks."
"He won't put his feet up on your desk," Winry assured him. "He's too much in love with the stuff he builds to leave scratches in them. But you might want to check your phone bill when it comes in. He might make some long-distance calls on the government's cenz just for fun."
"Any damage he causes he'll pay for, one way or another," Scar growled in a tone that reminded Ed of his old nemesis, and an icy finger tickled his spine.
Winry just laughed, dispelling the momentary chill. "Or maybe it'll teach him some responsibility," she suggested.
"I despair of that ever happening," Scar said, dismissing the subject and moving on to another. "Is Alphonse coming? I would have thought he'd be here by now."
"He's supposed to be," Ed replied. "He said he and Mei were coming for sure."
"I expected them to stop at Ishval with the Chang caravan and go on by train," Scar said. "But they didn't."
"I wanna meet Mei!" Danika piped up excitedly. "Papa said she's really, really nice!"
"In the letter Al sent," Winry put in, "he said that since it was winter and not so hot, they were taking a straight shot through the desert." She gave a little shrug. "Whatever that means."
"Well, however he gets here," Ed said, "he'll get here, no matter what. He's my best man, after all."
The road rose a little, then leveled out to reveal the cemetery. It had never been a gloomy place, and on this crisp, clear winter day, it almost had a welcoming feel to it. Ed always thought it wasn't a bad place to get buried. He led the way through the gate and past the rows of tombstones until they reached the plot where the Doctors Rockbell lay.
Scar stood at the foot of the graves, gazing somberly at the headstones that gave names and humanity to the lives he took in an inhuman rage. Ed studied the Ishvalan's face out of the corner of his eye, waiting for him to perhaps turn away out of shame and guilt. His look was a quietly heavy one, no doubt about that, but if there was any shame, he was hiding it well. That irritated Ed a little.
Then Scar took a few steps back, and Ed wondered if he had suddenly chickened out, unable to ultimately face his victims, even when he couldn't see them. But then Scar lowered himself to his knees, and then he bent forward, pressing his palms and his forehead to the ground. The others stepped back a little to give him some room and a little privacy, if only by a few inches. Ed felt vaguely embarrassed by this display. He couldn't help wondering if he would have felt better seeing Scar huddled in that same spot, bruised and bloodied. Now he just wished he'd get up and get on with it.
After several moments, Scar straightened back up, dusting off his forehead and brushing his palms. Winry stirred and looked up at him with curiosity.
"Did you sense anything when you had your hands on the ground?" she asked. "Like when you found that river? You know, with the…" She held out one of her arms and traced an invisible design with her finger over it.
Scar considered his hands and his tattooed forearms for a moment. "Such as?"
Winry shrugged. "I don't know. That's why I asked you. I mean, this is a graveyard, after all."
"You mean do I sense anything from those buried here?" Scar asked with a lift of his eyebrow then answered his own question kindly. "They're not here, Winry, only their physical remains."
Winry looked down at the graves. "I know that. I just…wondered."
Ed had been intrigued by the account of Scar's unique ability, and his curiosity got the better of any diffidence he felt. "What did you sense just now? Does the dragon's pulse, or whatever, actually sound like something?"
Scar frowned slightly. "It's not something I've taken the time to analyze. I did feel a kind of flow, not of consciousness, but of…life, I suppose."
"Like the earth is a kind of life form!" Ed added with growing excitement. "That's what—"
Scar shook his head and raised his hand. "Another time, Fullmetal. That's not our purpose here."
Ed shrugged his shoulders. "Just saying…" he mumbled.
Scar turned to his daughter. "Hold up the box, Danika."
Danika had been carrying a small wooden box made of reddish-brown wood burnished to a satiny sheen. She raised it up and Scar opened it and removed two small, shallow brass bowls. He bent down to set one on the grave of Urey Rockbell and one on Sara Rockbell's. From the box he then took a box of matches and a small bag and loosened the drawstring at its opening. He poured out some small chunks of earthy-colored material into each bowl, then he struck a match and held it to the clusters in each bowl. Smoke began to rise from each bowl, giving off a slightly sharp, slightly musky fragrance.
Scar straightened up and raised his hands, palms facing up. He drew in a breath and began to chant in a deep, resonant voice. Ed almost gave a start. He never would have imagined a sound like that coming out of Scar's mouth. The words, in Ishvalan, were completely alien to Ed, and they seemed to flow together. Being a prayer for the dead, it was, not surprisingly, in a minor key, but it was not melancholy.
Scar came to what seemed like the end of a long phrase, then he continued on to a shorter one, this time joined by Danika, her high, childlike tone contrasting yet blending with her father's. They went back and forth like this, verse and response, for several minutes, the tone of the chant changing periodically.
On the way out here, Scar had explained that it was the duty of the head of any Ishvalan household to perform this ritual for the family's dead at least once a year. Sure, it sounded nice, but Ed couldn't help wondering just whose benefit it was actually for. Once someone was dead, that was pretty much it. Memorial services were common pretty much everywhere, but it didn't make the departed any less departed. Scar said something about a spiritual connection between the living and those who had found rest in Ishvala's bosom, whatever that meant. Ed didn't show enough interest to hear more, so Scar had given up. Now if he could just get him to elaborate on his particular brand of alchemy, then Ed would listen.
Ed turned his head a little to watch Winry. She stood with her arms crossed, a thoughtful, solemn, slightly sad look on her face. Maybe she needed this. It was like she was able to experience her parents' funeral as an adult who could make sense of what had happened, not a scared, bewildered little girl. So if she was happy, he was happy. But when Scar finished his ritual and stepped away from the graves, Winry went up and hugged him, and Ed felt an annoying tingle along the back of his neck. He almost hunched up his shoulders like an irritated owl. Why didn't she hug him first? Why hadn't he thought about it in time?
"Thank you!" Winry said to Scar, giving a little sniffle.
"Thank you," Scar replied, holding her tightly.
"How did I do, Papa?" Danika asked. "Did I do good?"
Scar smiled and placed a hand on top of the girl's head. "You did well," Scar corrected her gently. "You did very well, indeed."
Danika gave a little pleased jiggle. "Uncle Dejan says I'm a really good singer for a little kid. He wants me to go on tour with them next year!"
Scar scowled slightly. "He has to ask me first."
"He will!" Danika replied with bright confidence, walking past her father toward the road.
"Don't you want to get these bowls?" Edward asked as Scar and Winry started moving away.
Scar shook his head. "The incense hasn't burned out yet. I can collect them tomorrow."
Ed considered the bowls dubiously. "I dunno. Somebody might take them."
Scar looked back at him. "I can't believe that even in a place like Amestris, anyone would rob a graveyard. No one in Ishval would do such a thing."
"It's okay, Ed," Winry assured him. "Let's just get back to the house."
"Fine," Ed mumbled, hurrying after them.
This time, Ed and Winry walked in front, leaving Scar and Danika to take up the rear. Ed still felt out-of-sorts. He gave a restless roll of his shoulders. "I've gotta take this sweater off! It itches!"
Winry scowled at him. "You never told me it itched before!"
"Well, I guess because I've had it on so long, I just now noticed. Honestly, Winry, it itches and it's just not cold enough for it."
Winry blew out an exasperated breath. "Fine! Go ahead! Take it off!" She gave him a shove and strode on ahead. "See if I make you another sweater!"
Ed was in the process of struggling to pull his head out of the neck opening, so he was occupied enough to not make the mistake of expressing relief and glee at Winry's remark.
888
"Hey, Papa?"
"What, little blackbird?"
Danika frowned at the young couple ahead of them. "How come…" Her frown deepened in concentration and perplexity. "How come if Winry and Edward are getting married…how come they're not more like you and Mama?"
Scar watched the exchange up ahead. "How do you mean?"
"Well, when you and Mama were gonna get married, you were…y'know…all huggy and kissy." Danika pronounced this observation as something that was all right for other people. At her present stage in life, she recognized the particular type of hugginess and kissiness practiced by adults was something necessary, but vaguely distasteful.
"I think the word you're looking for is 'affectionate'."
Danika nodded. "Yeah! That! Winry and Edward aren't being very 'fectionate."
Scar lifted his shoulders slightly. "We haven't been here that long. Perhaps you simply haven't noticed."
"Oh…I dunno…" Danika remarked ominously with a shake of her head.
Scar tried not to smile, because it really wasn't funny. For a young couple to be bickering on the eve of their wedding was not a good sign. He would have expected Edward to behave on the childish side, being of a hotheaded nature, and familiarity, it was said, tended to breed contempt. Perhaps it was just nerves. As little as it was his place to say so, Scar couldn't help thinking that Winry deserved better. But she had made her choice. All Edward needed to do in his remaining day as a bachelor was grow up.
