I am back, people! I thought I wasn't going to update this week, and yeah, the chapter's pretty short, I know. But I tried. Thing is, school's been pretty hectic since the winter break is coming up and all. We're trying to get everything done before next Friday. There's been tons of assignments, tests, labs to hand in, and I thought I wasn't going to get any time to finish up this chapter. Next one will be longer, I promise. =)

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA and/or SINF.

And so, as the Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who) says, "Allons-y!"


Alphonse tapped the Leygate connecting Washington to Paris. "So uh," he began. "How does this work, exactly?"

The Comte de Saint-Germain shook his head, his slick pony-tail following the movement. "You have your father's notebook, do you not? I believe he's explained what a Leygate is and how it works."

"That's not what I meant." Al flipped open the notebook nonetheless. "I was actually talking about travelling through it. How does that work? Because although Dad's stated that you can travel through a Leygate, he never explained how or its possible side effects."

"What are you, a rocket scientist?" Gilgamesh the King grumbled from his London Leygate.

Alphonse held up a finger. "Actually—"

"You just step through it," Joan of Arc interrupted, before Gilgamesh could say something he'd really regret. "It's simple. You might feel slightly nauseous, like your insides are twisted about and you're falling down the deep hole you may never get out of." She paused, thinking it over. "It's really not that bad."

"Willst du mich verarschen?" Al said, tilting his head to the side with exasperation. Are you kidding me?

"No, she's not," Francis replied in the same language, German. "But anyway, why are you asking about this?"

Alphonse wondered if he should really tell them. "Well . . . I sort of encountered something like a Leygate once before, and I wanted to know if they are one in the same. Judging from your claims of its means of travelling, I've concluded that the two are different. Although . . ." He traced his finger over the delicate geometrical carvings on the Leygate. ". . . I can't help but feel as if they're connected somehow."

"What is up with you Xerxians?" Gilgamesh demanded. "Even your brother said that!"

Heads snapped around in his direction.

"What?" Alphonse said quietly.

Gilgamesh shook his head, as if ridding an unwanted thought. "Oops, sorry. That must be a memory. I have a lot of memories. Sometimes I forget important ones, and then they pop up again at a random time. Please excuse me. I don't know when . . ." The homeless man scratched his dirty head, probably recalling another one of his jumbled memories.

"What's up with him?" Al said to Francis.

The count shrugged. "He's the oldest human in history. When you've lived for that long, you tend to forget things. But you know it's really bad when he starts mixing up and confusing someone for somebody else. It gets worse and worse the older he gets."

"He doesn't show it openly, but we all know he wishes to die," Joan said sadly.

"My dad thought that, too, sometimes," Al said.

Joan smiled apologetically. "Then he got what he wanted, didn't he?"

"Yeah." Alphonse glanced down at his father's journal again. "He's actually got a few short biographies on you guys. The Comte de Saint-Germain . . . Master of Fire. Joan of Arc . . . Possesses a silver aura." He looked up. "What's a silver aura?"

"Everyone has their own distinctive auras," Francis explained. "Some are mixed, but the most powerful auras are the pure ones. Silver is one of the few rarest auras on earth. The other one is Gold, and together, they are most powerful. But the rarest, and most deadly some say, is the black aura. Even I don't know much about it."

Alphonse was confused. "But . . . you say it's as if we've got a magical force-field around us all the time."

"That's because we do," Gilgamesh said. "You know, kid, you're awfully like your brother. He never liked the idea of magic."

"That stuff's real?"

"You bet, kiddo."

"So . . . " Al pointed to Saint-Germain. "When my dad says that you're a Master of Fire, does he mean that you really can command and control fire?"

Francis nodded.

"But can everyone and anyone perform magic?"

"No," Joan said. "Almost everyone has an aura, but some are too weak to be able to command magic. Others either don't have auras at all, like our Gilgamesh here, or they don't know they can perform magic, regardless of their aura level. The only way to bring out one's true potential is to Awaken them. This process is dangerous as not everyone survives through it. Others don't even need to be Awakened, as they use the time they have at hand to practice controlling their aura."

Alphonse blinked, taking in all his newly acquired information. " . . . Do I have an aura?"

He found the idea quite ridiculous, but he wasn't about to voice it out loud. He wouldn't even care if the answer was no. He was merely curious, as was every alchemist. He watched Gilgamesh carefully. The man seemed to be focusing on him intently, his eyes narrowed behind his grimy hair, seeming to see right through him.

"I'm afraid not, kid," Gilgamesh said finally, shaking his shaggy head. "Sorry 'bout that."

"I don't mind. If I go through this . . . Awakening process, though, will I get my own aura?"

Saint-Germain nodded. "Yes. It's extremely rare, but not unheard of. Thing is, no one has done this before because, well, it's dangerous and don't forget lethal. The stronger the aura, the more chances you'll have. But since you don't have one . . . Well, there's a 5% chance you'd get through it alive. So I don't recommend it, Alphonse."

The young Elric bowed his head, feeling slightly disappointed, which surprised him. He continued to read the profiles in his father's notebook. One particular person caught his eye, and he realized he'd seen the name before. And he had only met the man hours ago, too.

"Who's this Dr. John Dee?" he asked.

Judging from the expressions on everyone's faces, Alphonse knew this Dee man was bad news. He had a feeling before, talking to the English doctor, but now he was certain.

"You really don't want to mess with him," Gilgamesh said.

"Why not?"

"Just don't. Trust me on that, kid."

"What, is he dangerous?"

Joan of Arc nodded gravely. "More than the history books say. Actually, they leave a good quantity of his exploits out of his biography because all of the records have either disappeared or burned. And for good reason. Dee is a mad-man. Never associate with him."

"Is he an Immortal?" Al wondered.

Francis stared incredulously at the boy. "I'm surprised you know. How'd you find out?"

Alphonse quirked his eyebrow. The answer was really that simple; there was no need to ask. "Dr. John Dee was born in the 15th century, Mr. Count. If you're talking about the John Dee, then I'm assuming he's lived that long because he's immortal."

"Just like your brother," Gilgamesh muttered from his Leygate. Everyone ignored him.

"But what I want to know," Al continued, "is how he's acquired that immortality."

"Well, if you haven't guessed," Joan said, gesturing to Gilgamesh, "he's also immortal, which is why he's the oldest human on earth right now. He's about ten thousand years old, is that right?" She looked over at Gilgamesh, and the King nodded. She turned back to Alphonse. "Well, there you go."

Alphonse shut his father's journal with a snap. His eyes suddenly became hard and cold. "You haven't answered my question, Jeanne."

Joan of Arc sighed. "Listen, Al. Some have acquired immortality by their own means, but most of the time, an Elder grants them the gift—or curse, depending on how you look at it. You either do that, or uncover the secret of immortality itself."

"And what would that be?" Al asked softly.

". . . I honestly have no idea."

I know.

"I bet Flamel would know," Gilgamesh murmured from the other Leygate.

Alphonse's eyes widened. "What did you just say?"

"I . . . I don't know."

"You said Flamel!" Al rounded on him. "This Flamel wouldn't be a man that goes by Nick Fleming would it? Nicholas Flamel?"

"Why?" Francis said, making Alphonse turn back to him. "You've met him before?"

"No!" Al shook his head vigorously. "When Ed disappeared, I did a little searching and I found out that Ed knew this Nicholas Flamel and deemed him important. I've been trying to search for him, but I ended up meeting Dee instead!"

The count's jaw dropped. "You've met Dee?"

"Yeah, just a few hours ago!"

"That's really not good," Joan mumbled to no on in particular. But everyone was thinking the same thing.

"Did you just leave him? Did he follow you?" Francis demanded frantically.

Alphonse shook his head. "No. No! I left him. He didn't follow me. Actually, he thought I was someone else. A rocketeer by the name of Alphons Heidrich. Ed warned me to hide my true name, unless, I'm assuming, from those he trusts. That's you guys."

Saint-Germain nodded. "Yes. Listen to him. He's a hot-headed boy, but he's wise."

"I know that," Al said exasperatedly. "But Dee. What was he doing in the Library of Congress? That's what I'm worried about."

"Knowing him, it can't be coincidence," said Joan. "But we all know he has a general motive."

"He's trying to destroy humanity," Gilgamesh said, crossing his filthy arms. "He wants to bring the Elders back from their Shadowrealms—specifically the Dark Elders—and in order to do that, he wants to wipe out all those that oppose the Dark Elders' return. He's ruthless and reckless."

"Wait, wait!" Al said. "Back up. Why does he want to destroy humanity? And who are these Dark Elders?"

Francis pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oi . . . I feel like this is going to take a lot of explaining." He disappeared out of the Leygate for a while, and then came back with a stool. He sat down upon it and cross his legs. "Alright, I'm comfortable. It seems that, Alphonse, your father hasn't explained anything to you."

"He hadn't got the time. He was dead before I arrived on—" He bit his tongue. "He was dead before I found Ed. We were separated for a while."

Saint-Germain nodded. "I can understand that. And even if he couldn't talk to you, he could have at least written it down."

"Hohenheim wouldn't take the risk," Joan said, also grabbing a chair from nearby and sitting on it. "He's much too smart for that. He must have suspected that the Washington Stronghold wasn't secure. It also explains why you encountered Dee near the Stronghold's entrance. Hohenheim was right to withhold the information."

"You talk as if he's still alive," Al said.

Joan smiled knowingly. "Death isn't the end, Alphonse."

"Anyway," Gilgamesh interrupted, "Ed was supposed to protect the Stronghold, but where's he gone? Disappeared, he has, leaving you all by yourself. Some big brother he is. If you haven't come along while you did, Dee could've taken the Washington Stronghold and gotten hold of the city Leygate."

"And even worse," Francis continued, "Washington is the site for half a dozen Leygates. If he takes the Stronghold, all of our strongholds would be exposed to the Elders to take. Alphonse, I realize you have to find Edward, but you need to protect the Stronghold first. It's your priority. It was Hohenheim's, before he died, and since Edward, the eldest of you two, is missing, you would have to take the responsibility."

"But I have to find Ed!" Alphonse objected.

Saint-Germain held up a hand. "I realize your situation, and I want to find him too. But thing is, the whole world, the entire civilization, practically hangs in the balance. It's in your hands. You can find your brother and doom the world, or you can protect the world and find Ed later."

Alphonse clenched his fists. Was it fate that he arrived here, in this Stronghold? Did Ed somehow know the danger the world was in? "Who exactly am I—we—up against?"

"The Dark Elders," Joan said. "And Dee."

"What's Flamel got to do with all of this?"

"Last time I checked, he was in Paris. But he's disappeared now. I have no idea on his whereabouts." She looked over at Gilgamesh. "What about you?"

"I live on the streets. What do you expect?" the King said with a gruff deadpan.

Joan turned back to Al and shrugged. "Sorry."

"But do you know anything about him?"

Francis spoke up. "No one knows anything about the Alchemyst. He's my friend, but he's never told me much. He's always been a mystery, even six hundred years ago."

"So he really is immortal," Al said in a quiet voice. He looked up. "You say he's an alchemist?"

"No. The Alchemyst."

"What's the difference?"

"I'm with the kid," Gilgamesh said. "Never really did like that Flamel fellow. He tried to kill me before." He barked a laugh. "See how that turned out. I'm still here!"

Francis sighed, as if he'd gone through the same conversation with Gilgamesh a hundred times before. "Look, he didn't really try to kill you. You're just mixing some things up because of that memory of yours. That's your fault for forgetting your papers when he showed up. Why did you forget them? You never do!"

"It's my memory!" Gilgamesh retorted. "I forget, I forget. That's it!"

Joan rubbed the heel of her palm against her forehead. "Can you two please stop? This isn't the time for bickering."

"I'm with Ms. Arc on this one," Al said. Jeez, sometimes I think I'm the adult. When Francis and Gilgamesh settled down again, he asked his questions. "First thing I want to know . . . Who are the Elders? Are they different from the Dark Elders?"

"I like the kid," Gilgamesh remarked casually. "He doesn't start spamming questions at us like the last person to discover our cause. Poor lad." He shook his head sadly. "He was forced to be locked up and watch over the Mumbai Leygate."

The Comte de Saint-Germain sighed, trying to ignore Gilgamesh. "A long time ago, the Elders were considered gods. If I told you a few, you would recognize them from legends and mythologies. But they are far from it. Elders were not here on this plane first. There were others before them, and they fought for control."

"The Elders won," Joan said, taking over the explanations. "But this world was in complete turmoil. So a few Elders chose to recreate this earth, naming this Shadowrealm what it is . . . Earth."

"What's a Shadowrealm?"

"They are different dimensions connected to the main one, which is the planet we are standing on right now," Francis said. "And that's why you'll find most of them modeled after everything on this planet. Do you know about the Bermuda Triangle?"

Alphonse sighed. "How can I forget?" That was an unpleasant experience he did not want to mention.

"Well," Francis continued, "the reason why ships and planes disappear when they enter there is because there's a Shadowrealm connected to that place, and it's controlled by an Elder. There are many more places like it."

"Do those people ever get out alive?"

Gilgamesh shook his head. He looked almost . . . sad. "I'm afraid not, kid. Some eventually do, but they're locked in a world where time is a standstill and everything is layered with fog. There's no getting out. They are forced to forever drift, or fly. If they are found by the Shadowrealm residents, then they are forever lost. Some made it out because they managed to avoid them."

"That's horrible," Alphonse whispered.

"Not as horrible as what the Dark Elders are going to do to the humans," the King said. "I forgot who they are, though . . ." His eyes darted upwards, as if trying to see into his brain. "Nope, it's gone. Can someone else explain to this . . . ?" He squinted at Alphonse. "What's your name again?"

"With your memory problems, I'm surprised you don't have a shorter attention span," Alphonse said.

The Paris Leygate shimmered. "The Dark Elders were originally just Elders," Jeanne d'Arc said. "But they became separated because their cause was different from the others. The select few Elders wanted nothing to do with their plan, and retreated into their Shadowrealms. Over the next few millennia, some had chosen to side with the Dark Elders, and others remained neutral. A brave few even agreed to join our cause."

"What do the Dark Elders want, exactly?" Alphonse asked curiously.

"They want to return to this earth. They want to resume control over it, to put the humans under control. But that's not all. Once they come back, they will either use the humans as slaves . . . or food. If they're nice, they'd even fix all the problems we have caused this planet. But I do not guarantee survival."

Alphonse bit his lip.

"Will you help us?" Francis asked him.

"I don't know," he mumbled. "I realize these Dark Elders—if they return—are going to cause more destruction than they can fix. Especially when they have someone such as Dee working for them. But I have to find my brother."

"How can you say that?" the count demanded angrily. "Do you realize how much lives you can help save? Why must you say such a thi—!"

Alphonse shook his head slowly, eyes shut. "No, you don't get it. Francis, I can definitely help you, but we must find Ed first. Because if he is found, you are going to save a lot more lives. The world can wait." He opened his eyes, hazel orbs brimming with determination. "Will you help me?"

Saint-Germain was about to object, but he stopped himself. He nodded. "…Yes, I—we shall help you. But in turn, you shall help us."

"I expect nothing less."

"Are we done talking?" Gilgamesh interrupted. He glanced behind himself in his Leygate. "I sense someone coming. I have to see if Palamedes kept his word. I certainly hope you didn't bring along that stinkin' William Stinkspeare," he muttered to no one in particular.

His Leygate rippled and turned black.

Alphonse turned to the Paris Leygate, pointing at where Gilgamesh was just a moment ago. "What . . . ?"

Joan waved her hand. "Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's saying. That hypocrite."

"Did he just call William Shakespeare—Stinkspeare?"

"Long story."

"Really." Alphonse stood back and studied his father's notebook. "So what do we do now? Do I just step through your Leygate?"

The warrior nodded. "Yes. It's no problem. I recommend holding your breath before coming through. We'll be here to catch you."

"Wait," Al said, holding up his hands. "I would need catching? Where is your Leygate—on the ceiling?"

Joan looked sheepish for a second. When she spoke again, her French accent was slightly noticeable. "No . . . not exactly. You'll be really disorientated when you get here, so you'll stumble around a few times. We don't want you falling off the roof or anything"—insert nervous laugh here—"so we'll be here to make sure nothing goes wrong!"

"That's reassuring," he mumbled. "Okay," he said, raising his voice, "let's do this."

Both Joan and Francis stood up and placed their stools to the side. Then they moved to either side of the Leygate, beckoning him through.

Alphonse stepped into the shimmering mirror and disappeared from reality. He fell through the black vortex, a nonexistent wind ripping through his coat. Vertigo gripped his insides and churned them around. Nausea tore through his skull, making his head pound.

Before he knew it, it was over. He tumbled into a brightly lit room. Then he realized it was the sky. It was orange and red and purple. The sun was setting.

He tripped, but someone caught him. Thin, but strong arms. His eyes felt heavy, and his arms and legs were lead.

Ironic. His brother was the one with the metal limbs.


Hekate's Shadowrealm was beautiful and lush, but prehistoric. Creatures from long ago that were supposed to be extinct were not. Plants that seemed to have died out millennia ago thrived here. It was nothing like this on Earth.

It wasn't Earth.

The Great Tree watched over them all, its branches reaching the ends of the sky. Its trunk was massive and ancient, pulsing with alien-like energy. A few yards from it parked a broken down van littered with millions of holes. Its wheels were popped and its batteries had died.

It wasn't going anywhere.

On the branch of the Yggdrasil grown like a balcony sat the immortal Nicholas Flamel and The Goddess of Three Faces, Hecate.

The immortal was carving around a giant apple, while the Elder was drinking tea. It looked nothing out of the ordinary, except where they were drinking tea, of course. The subject they were talking about, however, was far from your average weather-talk.

"I still don't understand how you could have lived," Hecate was saying. "The Morrigan is a formidable enemy."

"That's what I was saying!" Flamel exclaimed. "I don't understand how we could have gotten out of there alive. I was ready to use my aura to fend off the crows. But then that boy came." He uttered the last words quietly, as if it was going to offend the goddess.

But Hecate seemingly ignored him. "You should not use your aura. You no longer have the Codex, isn't that right? That means the more you use your aura, the faster your aging process goes. I thought you knew better."

Nicholas sighed. "Yes, but I didn't. Anyway, the only reason why we're even alive is because . . . someone assisted us."

"You mean rescued you."

"No, we could have done this on our own."

"You previously said you don't know how you could have lived. So how can you say you could've taken care of it?"

"We couldn't have, but we would have succeeded if we tried."

Hecate put down her wooden tea cup crafted from Yggdrasil itself. "Put your ego out of the way, Flamel. It could kill you one day."

"Please," the Alchemyst begged. "I need you to tell me who that boy was."

"And how should I know?"

"I told you of his description. I'm assuming you know who he is. No one is older than you."

The goddess shook her head. "I'm afraid it's not your place to know, nor is it mine to tell you. If you want to know, find out for yourself."

Nicholas put down his knife. "Wait… You don't know, either, do you?"

Hekate's expression became annoyed. "Of course I know."

"Then why won't you tell me!"

She sighed, as if she were speaking to a little child. Well, technically, she was. "You say this boy fended off the Morrigan by himself? He produced a blade from out of nowhere and held it to her throat with skilled precision? Please. I think you already know."

Flamel narrowed his eyes. "Fine then. Don't tell me. But I think you need to know something, goddess. For the brief while I've watched the boy fight the Morrigan and her allies, I didn't see an aura around him. It's as if he doesn't even have one."

"Nonsense," Hecate said with ridicule. "One cannot simply fend off the Morrigan without an aura. With the skill you claim he'd displayed, he should have an aura. And a strong one at that." She sipped from her tea cup. "But it wouldn't matter then, anyway. There's little chance you'll meet him again."

"But I saw it with my own eyes. Or, rather, I didn't see it. That boy isn't normal."

"And why should you care?" Hekate asked. "You've got the Twins of Legend, or so you say you did. The boy is nothing compared to the power they will have. It's your old age, Nicholas. It's getting to you."

Flamel didn't know whether to be glad or offended.


I don't know why Hekate's name is written this way. It's supposed to be "Hecate" but I dunno. Maybe the author wrote it like this on purpose. Saint-Germain is also supposed to be "Saint-Germaine". Again, I don't really know. He's supposed to be French, right? I'm not an expert, but I don't think "Saint-Germain" exists in the French language. Does it?

Please review! It will make me very happy! BTW, thanks to all the favourite-ors, and reviewers so far. You guys keep me going with this fic!

Rinnala writes:

nice. For some reason I really do like the storyline Ed follows a lot more
than the one Al follows. Also it is contradictory if Hekate says everyone has
an arura (stating it to be common knowledge) and the those in the mirrors
taking it casually when it turns out Al doesn't have one. And awakenings (if
everyone has an aura even if not magically active) then an awakening would be
impossible because Al has nothing to awaken in the first place

but I suppose... no this couldn't really be overlooked. it'll maybe cause
colatteral damage later on... then again it's your story. please look it over

You are very observant, aren't you? The SINF universe isn't really complete. There are only five books so far (at least in my country), and the author hasn't explained everything in full detail. That leaves amateur authors like me and others to expand on these little things I call 'loopholes'. And please remember that I do not have the books. I'm working from memory.

Everyone is supposed to have an aura, yes. But there are exceptions, like Gilgamesh. And since Joan and Saint-Germain know Gilgamesh, they aren't surprised Al doesn't have an aura. In fact, there are only a select few people like Perenelle that can actually see a person's aura without said person releasing it. When one starts flaring it out randomly, then it's visible to the person, because it's intentional. Other times, an aura is 'visible' because others are able to 'sense' it. So really, no one really knows how much people have no aura, and that's why there is no surprise. But everyone is supposed to have one, no matter how small.

Hekate's line has been fixed though.

For Alphonse's Awakening request. Since it hasn't been confirmed that one cannot be Awakened because they have no aura, I'm stating it's possible to get an aura after an Awakening. Think about it.

If I remember correctly, Gilgamesh LOST his aura after his Awakening. If one can lose their aura after an Awakening process, then it should be possible for a person to receive an aura after going through with it. But it's so unlikely they'd survive after it, the theory hasn't really been confirmed. (This paragraph has been lampshaded for future content.)

Remember Awakening doesn't just heighten a person's aura. It also raises all the five senses.

I hope that cleared everything up. If you didn't read it, well... It'll be explained a little bit in the chapters anyway.

Edit: Still rewriting . . . It's a common occurrence now.