Chapter Seven: Born of Sun and Sky and Sea

Table City, Milos

The clarion cut through Winry's dreams like a nightmare, startling her awake. She sat up faster than her injuries could register, but pain struck, leaving her panting. Tears sprang to her eyes. Winry clutched her torso, gasping in shock. The siren still wailed, a counterpoint to her agony.

Sirens had to mean something was happening. A cacophony sounded beyond Julia's room, a jumble of voices rising and falling. Winry thought she heard fear in the noise, but didn't know what frightened the Milosians. Gritting her teeth, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood up as carefully as she could. Her skull felt like it was going to pop up off her spine, but she forced herself to walk across the room and open the door.

It wasn't as much chaos as she expected. Winry leaned her hand on the doorframe to keep herself steady, watching as the Milosians darted around. People seemed to be more focused than terrified. A man wearing a headband took charge of some kids, telling them they needed to get home, now. He glanced over, catching sight of Winry, and narrowed his eyes slightly. She raised her chin at his challenge.

"Hurry now," he said, pressing his hand into a little girl's back to urge her along.

"I don't know where Marcus is!" she complained. "I can't go without him!"

"He'll be fine, Karina," the man said. "But you need to get somewhere safe and out of the way."

The little girl screwed up her face, like she was going to let out a sob. "Would you want to wait here, with me?" Winry broke in. "I don't know what's going on, and you could tell me. And I'm sure Mister, ah?"

"Nega," he said, as flatly as if squeezed between all the stone in Milos.

Winry smiled her most disarming smile. "Mr. Nega will let Marcus know where you are." She stretched her hand out to the girl. "Will you come with me? And tell me what's going on?"

"Karina?" Mr. Nega patted her shoulder. "Can you wait with this girl in Julia's room?"

"Okay," Karina said, and trotted up the sloping floor to Winry. She took Winry's hand, and pulled her back into the room. Winry bit back her cry of pain. "You have to close and lock the door."

"Oh, all right." Winry let Karina direct her in the prescribed duties.

Once the door was locked tight, Karina hopped into a chair at the table, swinging her feet. Winry thought she should offer the little girl something, but she wasn't an alchemist, to be able to heat water for tea, and she wasn't sure if there was another way to boil water. The lanterns and candles were for light, Winry could tell. As dim as it was in the room carved out of rock, she wanted some sort of illumination. "Are there matches or a flintlock around?" she asked Karina, hopefully.

"Mm, a flint is over on the bedside table." Karina pointed Winry in the right direction.

After igniting a couple of lanterns to give them more light, Winry settled at the table across from the little girl. "My name is Winry Rockbell. What's yours?"

Karina studied Winry with a gravity beyond her years. Winry wondered if she'd looked the same way after her parents died, or maybe after Edward and Alphonse tried to bring their mother back from the dead. "Karina Milan."

"It's nice to meet you, Karina." Winry smiled at her. "Is your…brother? Marcus, is he older or younger than you?"

"Older," she sighed with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "He thinks he knows so much!"

"Older brothers can be a pain," Winry agreed.

"I could find Marcus," Karina said. "I know where he is."

Winry asked, "Where? Is he trying to see what's happening?" She wagged her finger at the ceiling.

Karina made a disgusted face. "Maybe, but he's probably in the tunnels so he can watch the dragons fly out!"

Something about the way Karina said it piqued Winry's curiosity. "No one would notice him?"

"Nuh uh." Karina stuck out her lower lip. "He's in our tunnels."

"Your tunnels? Why would that be any," her voice trailed off as the implications hit. "You have tunnels that just you know about?"

Eyes popping wide, Karina slapped both hands over her mouth. Her, "No!" came out muffled by her fingers.

Winry leaned across the table, fixing Karina with her gaze. "Do you have secret tunnels?" Before Karina could answer, she asked, "Are they dangerous?" and wondered just when she'd started sounding like her mother.

Karina blanched. "No, no! As safe as – as here!" She patted the table awkwardly.

"But they are secret?" Winry scowled at her.

Scowling back, Karina tried to stare Winry down. Her forehead wrinkled and her lower lip jutted out.

Winry fought to keep from giggling, and made her voice as stern as she could. "Are they secret tunnels, Karina?"

"Gah!"

"That's not an answer."

"Yes," she whined, all but sprawling across the tabletop in misery at giving up the secret.

"Who knows about the tunnels?" Winry asked.

Karina shrugged. "I don't know."

"Karina."

Sighing, she said, "Marcus, Antonio, me, some of the other kids." Another exaggerated exhalation. "Marcus is going to hate me!"

"He won't," Winry said. "I'm not going to tell anyone. At least, as long as he's okay. If he's not okay, I have to tell your Mom and Dad. Deal?"

"Okay," Karina groused. She looked across the table at Winry. "Do you have brothers?"

Winry laughed. "Well, kind of. I grew up with some boys. They're the friends I'm traveling with. A few years ago, we came to Milos from Amestris, but we were only here for a couple of days before we left again, so I don't really know a lot about Milos." She spread her hands on the table top.

"What do you want to know?" Karina asked, falling back into her seat.

"Well," Winry wriggled in her chair in an attempt to get comfortable. "I'd like to know why the sirens are going off."

"Creta's attacking," Karina said, almost offhandedly, as if it was a common occurrence. Maybe it was. "They make us hide in the caves when the sirens go off, to keep us safe. The attacks don't last long, but they're scary." She met Winry's gaze. "Creta wants to take over Milos again and use us to find the Sanguine Stars! That's why all the walls here look like that." She pointed to the pock marks. "Someone dug there with a pick."

"Is that so?" Winry hoped she didn't show any of her feelings about what Karina said. She'd seen the type of alchemy that could be done with a Sanguine Star – a Philosopher's Stone. She'd watched a monster be reduced to a worm without its stone. And, more than ever, she was glad Edward and Alphonse hadn't needed to use the stone to get their bodies – well, Al's body back, and Ed's arm. "I heard you all live in the caves now."

"Mm! It's too dangerous to live up there." Karina pointed toward the ceiling, but Winry read the sorrow in her dark eyes. "I miss the sun. And flowers! Flowers don't grow down here." Her face fell at the admission.

Pressing her lips together, Winry nodded. "I had to stay in some caves before, when we were hiding out. It was hard, not seeing the sun." She thought of something. "But maybe we could make some flowers?"

Karina blinked a couple of times. "Make flowers?"

"Well, we just need some fabric in pretty colors, and some thread, and maybe some wire." Winry thought for a second. "Scissors to cut it up, and we're done!"

"Really?" Her face brightening, Karina leaned across the table again. "How?"

"I'll show you," Winry said, pushing back in her chair. "Let me just find what we need." There weren't many places for extra fabric, or scissors, or thread to hide in Julia's room, and she soon had a packet of needles and some thread. Scissors were harder to find, and she was still working on locating them when someone tried the door. Winry started at the sound of the rattle, her ribs reminding her again why moving fast was a bad idea when the pain sliced into her body.

"Winry!"

"Al?" She patted Karina's shoulder as she made her way across the room to the door. Unlocking it, Winry pulled the door open. "What is it?" From the brief glimpse of Alphonse's face, she knew. "What's happened to Ed?"

"I'll tell you on the way to the aerie," Alphonse said, spying Karina as she hopped out of her chair. "Who's that?"

"Karina, this is my friend, Al. He's a friend of Julia's, too. You stay here, and lock the door behind us, all right?" Winry asked, tilting her body best she could so it wouldn't hurt to look at her young guest.

"All right," Karina said with a frown. "But when you come back, will you show me how to make flowers?"

"Of course." Winry smiled at her, laying her hand on Alphonse's arm. "Remember, lock the door!" Waiting until after Alphonse pulled it to, she ordered, "Tell me now."

"He's okay," Alphonse said with a sigh.

"But?" She put her hands on her hips, barely even wincing.

"He's mostly okay?" With a somewhat sickly smile, Alphonse spread his hands.

Winry repeated, "Mostly?" As she read Alphonse's expression, her heart pounded harder. "The aerie, Al. How do we get to the aerie?"

"It's farther away than the medical wing."

"Then I'd better walk faster." Clenching her jaw, Winry forced her body to work for her. If Edward could remember how to do alchemy when he was bleeding to death, she could certainly find the strength to reach him, no matter what kind of looks Alphonse gave her.

X X X

The aerie buzzed with people weaving their way through the dragons. The resulting din reminded Edward of the Central City train station – a continuous rumble of noise, punctuated by some shouts and steam whistle screeches. He wanted to collapse somewhere, away from all the hubbub, and thought Petras would be happy with that, too.

Spaso had led them to a stall, warning Edward to try and keep Petras calm. There was no way it could be Petras's stall. Andrea'd said the dragas and dragons were separated; but right now, Petras was in the male dragon's aerie, in what had been a clean stall. Edward unhooked himself from her saddle, leaping off and out of her way. Landing hurt, but he could ignore the pain in his shoulder, especially when he got a good look at Petras's wound.

Petras held her right foreleg off the cave floor, blood dribbling down from a ragged wound to puddle beneath her claws. "Easy," Edward said, touching her neck. She made a noise, something like a whine, pressing her head into his chest. Wrapping his good arm around her muzzle, Edward cradled her head against him. "They'll fix you up, girl." The smell of her blood reminded him of copper laced with cinnamon, and made his stomach curdle. He glanced away from her to the activity outside the stall.

People milled like ants in a disturbed nest, darting this way and that, calling for help. Andrea lay slumped over Helios's neck, still harnessed to his saddle, and Edward could see blood coating her suit. He couldn't tell if it was hers or her dragon's. Spaso and Alion seemed to be in better shape, though Spaso limped, and his boot left a bloody print with each step he took. Alion held one wing out away from his body at an angle, hissing and tossing his head. Edward watched as a couple of people unhooked Andrea from Helios's saddle, gently prying her up and off of Helios. The dragon swung his head around to nuzzle her and she cupped his chin. Edward thought she might've said something, but there was too much noise for him to make it out. Her hand dropped abruptly and Helios keened, nudging her with his nose, trying to get a reaction from her before she was carried out of his reach.

To Edward's eyes, Andrea looked too pale, her skin almost glowing in the dim light of the cavern. "Medic!" one of the men holding Andrea shouted. He took her weight, carrying her to a table and using his elbow to knock the items off the tabletop. Setting Andrea down, he placed his hands on her body, yelling again.

Edward couldn't make out the words through the buzzing in his own ears. He clung to Petras, locking his automail knee in an attempt to stay upright, cursing that there was nothing he could do to help Andrea. Taking a deep breath, he let go of the dragon's muzzle. Maybe he could staunch the bleeding on Petras's foreleg, if he could figure out a bandage. "Let me see your leg."

The saddle blanket looked like it could work. Edward grunted as he reached for the strap to unbuckle the saddle. His shoulder burned like a son of a bitch, and he ground his jaw to keep moving his wounded arm. Managing to loosen the saddle enough to drag the blanket out from under it, Edward wrapped it around Petra's bleeding foreleg, putting pressure on the wound. The blood soaked through the blanket faster than Edward liked. Petras let out a funny little croak and sat down abruptly, nearly knocking Edward down with the way her leg flailed. He dodged back out of the way, waiting until Petras settled, lying down and curling her neck around so she could nose the blanket out of the way and lick the bleeding wound.

Edward sank down next to her, losing control of his descent and landing hard. Still, he grunted, "No licking. I need to stop the bleeding." As he tried to put the blanket back over the wound, Petras blocked him with her muzzle, her lip curling back. "Okay, fine! Just bleed." He leaned against her thigh, letting his head fall back. His shoulder alternated from feeling like it was packed with ice, then scorched with fire. Someone ought to look at it, but Andrea and Petras needed medical care more than he did.

With that in mind, he turned his head, searching through the people running around to the table. It looked like Julia might be over there, and maybe that asshole, Hoffman. Damn it, Hoffman would probably want to look him over, too. Edward huffed, wondering if anyone else could check his shoulder. Maybe whoever took care of the dragons? Probably would have a better bedside manner. Even Pinako treated him…well, maybe not better than Hoffman did. And if she knew the daydreams he had about her granddaughter. Edward stopped that thought right there. The way Pinako teased him about Winry, she knew. And Alphonse teased Winry about him. "Geeze."

The repetitive sound of Petra's tongue rasping over her wound soothed him in some way Edward didn't want to think about. He knew it was probably the adrenaline rush fading, but he wanted to curl up and sleep. Even all the racket going on around him did nothing to keep him alert, and he gave up, closing his eyes.

"Ed!"

Jerking awake, Edward raised his head, smiling a little at Alphonse before he realized Winry was with him. "Damn, I – I'm sorry, Winry! You got out of bed and – and – don't you dare cry!" He pointed at her as she pushed away from Alphonse, rushing over to drop on her knees in front of him.

"Ed, shut up!" Winry slapped his hand away, or maybe to get it out of her way, since she lunged at him, crushing herself against his chest.

"Ow! Damn it, Winry!" Edward struggled in her rib-crushing hug, wincing as moving ignited his shoulder again. "Let go! Al, help me."

Alphonse squatted next to Winry, letting out a low whistle. "Julia said you were in bad shape, Ed, but." He shook his head.

Edward glowered. "I'm fine! It's just a little wound – Petras is in worse shape than me." He didn't even want to think about Andrea and Helios. What was happening with them? He couldn't see past Alphonse's and Winry's heads.

Winry leaned back just enough to take all of him in. "You're bleeding, you – Al! Get something we can bandage him up with!" Glaring, she said, "I'll sew you up myself if I have to."

Alphonse snorted, but stiffened when Winry shot a look his way. "Yes'm. Don't move, Ed. You still need to explain what happened."

"Nng." Edward bared his teeth at Alphonse's reminder. He'd rather wait to do that until after they were all patched up, but knew he couldn't hold out. Julia would probably want to know, too, so he'd have to tell his story at least twice. Unless Spaso, Andrea, and he were all questioned together. Hearing a cheer, he tried to crane his neck, but couldn't see anything. "What's going on?"

Winry rocked back, turning slightly. "I don't know. There're too many people over there."

At Andrea's table. Edward let out a relieved sigh. A cheer ought to mean she was going to be okay, or, at the very least, live. "Sorry I wasn't there to bust you out of the hospital room."

Her flat look took in the dragon he leaned against. "Looks like you found something better to do than wait on me."

Petras raised her head, eyeing Winry the same way Winry eyed her. Edward wondered if dragons got jealous. "Winry, this is Petras. Petras, this is Winry." Maybe introductions weren't so stupid; look at how people offered dogs their hands to sniff.

"You're bleeding, too," Winry said, with a worried note in her voice. "Ed! Scoot over so I can look at her wound."

"She's worse off than me," Edward said, resting his head against Petras's flank again. It was getting harder to hold it up. "Yeah, look at her first, I'll keep." He was just going to close his eyes for a few seconds. It'd be okay. Alphonse and Winry were here. They'd make sure Petras got taken care of, then they could worry about him.

"Idiot," Winry said in that half-annoyed, half-caring way she had, and Edward smiled in response. If she wasn't freaking out, he figured they'd be okay. It was the last thing he heard as he drifted off on a wave of darkness.

Thessalia, Creta

Eirene ran down to the pad, field glasses bouncing against her chest hard enough to leave bruises behind. She'd watched as much as she could from her vantage point, but the damned dragons destroyed this flight. Nine airships she'd sent out, five bi-wings and four airships, and too few returned. The radios had chattered about the dragons appearing up out of the valley, and their surprise attack. The bi-wings hadn't been prepared for a battle, and had been torn asunder by the dragons. As the attack happened, Eirene shouted for her men, ordering crews to ready for a defensive attack, but the dragons left the field before Eirene's men could launch the ships.

"Launch for recovery!" she shouted, climbing into one of the airships. The problem with the ships was they weren't particularly fast, especially with a headwind. She thought Lamonan needed to work harder at designing larger engines and propellers to give the ships better speed. As it was, the airships moved at about the speed of an automobile, but the dragons traveled so much faster. The bi-wings sped along like bees, but they couldn't land on the ground without a runway, and the airships could.

It took about fifteen minutes to reach the wreckage. A smoke plume rose up out of the canyon floor, pinpointing where they needed to go. Eirene leaned on the railing, using her field glasses to try to locate any survivors below. The canyon winds blew against the ship, forcing her to widen her stance to keep her balance. She tried to keep from imagining the fall from the heights, and how her men might've felt, following their ships down to the ground so far below. Stomach clenching, she fought to keep from vomiting.

"Descending now!" the airship captain shouted, and the ship began its controlled fall to the canyon floor.

Eirene trained her glasses on the broken shell, hoping someone might still be alive, that her men had been able to use the shoulder wings to soar to the ground safely. Steeling herself, she swept the lenses toward the battered bi-wings littering the canyon floor. As fragile as they were, she had less hope the pilots would've survived, but there was always a possibility. The ship descended farther down into the canyon, the sun vanishing behind the cliff wall, making Eirene blink. Her eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting, and, for an instant, she almost wished they hadn't. The damage below made her stomach twist tighter.

The attack destroyed her men, leaving behind only wreckage. Eirene dropped the glasses on her chest, wrapping her hands around the railing. The cold metal burned her palms, giving her something else to concentrate on as the airship finally bumped lightly on the ground. The crew bustled around her, anchoring the ship to make sure it didn't take off without them, and throwing the gangplank down into the damp soil. The plank squelched as it landed.

"Colonel?" Captain Therrel laid his hand on her shoulder. "We'll go together."

Eirene straightened her spine. "Thank you, Captain." Pulling a pair of gloves out of her pocket, she pulled them on, adjusting the cuffs. "This is a rescue, not a salvage. If there is any life, we'll be bringing our men home. If not, we'll bring the bodies back for a proper burial. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" The four men shouted their agreement, and Eirene nodded, leading the way off the airship, expecting the worst, but still, allowing herself a smidgen of hope.