LOL, sewing life, you're not the only one who mistakes royal with royai sometimes. Another quick update? Sure, roy-fan-33, I'm trying to update three times a week. You have no idea how interesting things are about to get...

Thank you for the feedback, it is very much appreciated. If you are reading and enjoying the story, I would love to hear from you.


Falling Rain

Chilled droplets plunged from the night sky above, pelting everything unfortunate enough to be in the path. Puddles had turned to pools as the rain continued the onslaught on East City. For some, the rain washed away the old and the bad that had collected, but for others, the rain was merely an irritation, something that had to be, but was not loved.

Rain could be dangerous, turning into floods, it could be cruel, ruining a picnic and it could be a pain, making hard jobs even more difficult.

For Roy, the rain served another spirit dampening purpose, that it made his flame alchemy all but useless in the lousy weather.

Heavy black boots splashed through the puddles as Roy marched toward the second cordoned area of the evening. His coat offered little shelter as the cold rain soaked into the cloth, his hair and darkened the front and neckline of his uniform.

Two soldiers, their blue uniforms dark from the rain guarded the entrance to a narrow alleyway. The straightened slightly as he approached but he offered them barely a glance. He did not have to enter the alley to know he would not like what was waiting for him.

He had already visited the other crime scene where two security officers had been viciously beaten to death. It looked as if a riotous mob had attacked them.

What fate, he wondered, befell the one who had fled the attack?

The wind howled as gusts blew between the buildings, rattling awnings and the men standing guard. It buffeted against him, as if trying to knock him into a muddy puddle or keep him from seeing what had happened to the third officer.

A part of Roy did not blame the wind's efforts. This was a part of the job he did not enjoy.

Thunder rumbled low and menacing overhead as he approached the two men who quickly snapped to attention. Brushing off the formality, he entered into the poorly lit alley.

Ahead stood a man with a lantern, casting just enough light for him to navigate over the trash and debris strewn across the floor.

The rain would wash the evidence away, he growled to himself, if there was any. Where the other soldiers had met their fates there was little to go on. Tracks lost in the rain and the few eyewitnesses said the attackers seemed to just fade into the shadows. Such whispers only promoted fear among the men.

And fear was the enemy.

No matter how much rain fell, it could not take away the smell of death. Blood, fear, and agony all seemed to mix together into a poisonous miasma that lingered in the alleyway.

A single lantern lit the scene, giving a strange life to the shards of glass that jutted from the stone floor. Orange and yellow flickered about, mingling with the thick flow of blood from the body, pierced dozens of times, and held just off the ground.

"Sir!" a private snapped jerking to attention as he saluted when Roy pushed passed him. In the lantern light, Roy's shadow danced like a demon against the high brick walls.

The three men had been on patrol, checking some disturbances near one of the army's storage facilities but they never returned. Though the East was still riddled with violence, such things were unheard of in East City, Roy's backyard. Nor would he stand idly by because of it.

He would find out what happened.

There was something in the air, something foul and dark.

Snatching the lantern from the young soldier who kept a distance from the heart of the scene, Roy approached. Kneeling, he held the light close, examining the ground where the shards had erupted. They had been formed from the contents found in the alley floor. Searching his memories, he tried to remember ever reading or hearing about a glass alchemist.

All he could think of was the Spinning Glass Alchemist but that man's creations were considered to be works of art. He was also a scientist dedicated to creating safer forms of glass. He would also be an elderly man living in the west.

These shards possessed jagged edges, sharp and angry, designed to pierce and maim.

To kill.

Narrowing his gaze, he studied the various wounds the officer had suffered, the rain and blood making the black uniform glossy, reflecting the lantern light. Just a boy, he thought.

"Why this fate?" he wondered out loud.

The dead man's pale hand stretched up to the sky as if imploring the rain to stop falling. Water splattered against the exposed palm, flowing down and mixing with the blood from dozens of deep cuts. The wounds were not immediately fatal. He had been left to suffer while he bled out.

Standing up, Roy met the wide, horror filled eyes of the young man. At first he looked away, not wanting to face the damning glare but then turned back. A gentle brush of fingertips over cool, wet skin closed the man's eyes for the last time.

"We humans can be despicable creatures."

Roy offered a bitter grin as he turned to greet the source of the familiar voice. "I was thinking the same thing, except about alchemists."

Maes Hughes leaned up against the brick wall. He was without a coat and his uniform dark from the rain. Shrugging, he said, "We're all human and it doesn't take alchemy to do terrible things."

Looking back at the dead officer, Roy said, "That does."

Pushing off from the wall, Maes approached. The even look he offered was more than enough for Roy to know something bigger was up. He stepped close to his friend. Maes frowned. "I was hoping to get here first to warn you."

"You knew about this?" Roy growled.

"Let's just say I don't go traveling the southern and eastern regions for my health. I'm on strict orders from General Hakuro to investigate similar killings to the south. There was also a killing two weeks ago in Gyali just like this."

"What?"

"All of them have been random, as far as we can tell, save at least one person killed during each attack had served during Ishbal." Maes closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. "We didn't know what to make of it until the killings in Gyali."

"That's just an outpost."

"One under the command of the former Lt. Colonel Soham."

That name sent a chill through Roy. "Former?"

Nodding toward the dead officer, Maes said, "Dead just like that plus one of the men on patrol with him. What the locals called a group of armed men beat four others to death but the witnesses refused to offer any other detail. Seems they aren't too broken up by the deaths. One soldier survived it. Said there were a dozen Ishbalan men with crude weapons and tattooed faces like the Hareti. We're almost positive Hirada was among them."

"He's dead."

The light flickered as the lantern shook from an unsteady hand. Maes pulled the lantern from Roy's fierce grip, nearly dumping it in the rain when it was not immediately released.

"This is why I didn't tell you over the phone," the Lt. Colonel said sharply.

"Odessa Rhodes is alive," Roy whispered as he retreated a step. "She couldn't be."

"You and ten of your people survived Medes. Soham survived somehow."

"I killed them—"

"There were hundreds of burned and crushed bodies, not including what may have been incinerated when the weapon storehouse obliterated the temple. No one knew for sure. They just assumed Rhodes and Hirada had died with his followers. It's been years, Roy, with no sign of them. Everyone just thought—"

Standing with his hands clenched to his sides, Roy closed his eyes but all he saw was Medes.

After the initial explosions, it was easy. There were flames everywhere; he just had to feed them. And that red stone, that damned, cursed red stone made it all so simple, extending his alchemic reach so much further than he had ever imagined.

It was almost intoxicating as he threaded the flames through all the buildings, setting them ablaze. Listening distantly to the agonized cries of the burning as the buildings erupted around the rebels.

The flames were hungry, feeding on Medes without his help. All he could do was stand back as they licked at the sky and reached for the ancient temple. A woman and a small child raced from the doomed building.

Then more.

Dozens of women and children whom had sought refuge in the temple, raced down the steps as the ravenous flames claimed it.

They would not get very far.

"Roy?"

Hughes had a strangely worried look. It did not suit him, Roy thought as he blinked into the glare of the lantern that was held close to his face.

Pressing a hand to Roy's shoulder, Maes looked him right in the eye. "This isn't Scar, Roy. She's not after every State Alchemist that comes along. She's pissed and she wants a special kind of revenge and she's got Hirada helping her. I'm not just speaking as an investigator here, I'm speaking as your friend—"

"She will kill anyone who gets in her way." He could read the concern in Maes' eyes. Why endanger others if all Rhodes and Hirada wanted was him?

"Roy," came his friend's soft reproach.