Epiphany in Blue Glass

Edward Elric ignored the smoke grey kitten that slipped noiselessly into the room, his attention absorbed by his reflection in the dusty mirror. He grunted in frustration as a tug at his collar caused the opposite side to bunch against his neck, repeating the futile performance twice more before giving up. Accepting that his collar was going to be crooked, Edward buttoned up the rarely worn soot black vest and shrugged on the matching jacket, keeping his eyes on the mirror.

Dressed, Ed reached for the wooden comb on his dresser and pulled it through his hair until he could gather it all into a neat ponytail. He frowned a little at his reflection, a touch uncomfortable in the knowledge that he was starting to resemble his father, down to the shadow of facial hair on his chin that remained no matter how often he applied his razor. A soft purr and the feel of warmth around his ankles pulled Edward's attention away from his reflection and to the kitten curling herself sinuously around his feet.

"Havoc!" Ed all but yelped when he noticed the fine dusting of white and grey hairs that now clung to his pants. "Get out of here!" Kicking at the air around the kitten, Edward danced his awkward way to the door, herding her before him. Havoc allowed herself to be led out, but as she crossed the threshold, she turned back to face him with dark violet eyes and let out a loud, pitiful meow before making her way back to the sunny patch of rug in front of the window.

"Brother!" came Al's sharp, admonishing voice, muffled by the heft of his closed bedroom door. "Don't be mean to Havoc!"

Edward gave a wordless growl of frustration as he retreated into his room, brushing futilely at Havoc's parting gift as he did so. When a few swipes only served to transfer the cat hair from his pants to his jacket, Ed stopped and gave himself another nervous glance in the mirror. Satisfied that he didn't look like a complete fool, he slid a slim, dark blue box into his coat pocket and headed for the door, yelling a goodbye to his brother as he did so.


Still self-conscious of his appearance, Ed nearly dove into his car, fumbling with the starter as he settled properly into the driver's seat. The engine finally turned over, and he allowed the almost cat-like purr to lull him into calmness as he pulled into the road and towards Sara's building.

Ever since he'd returned to this world, Edward had remembered with fondness the times when he and Alphonse Heidrich had taken their research to demonstrations across Germany. Once he and his little brother had moved to America, the lure of the American roadways had taken hold of Ed, and he felt the need to drive again as an elusive itch, only aggravated by the occasional errands he ran in Professor Roberts' car. It had taken nearly two years of saving before he had even broached the subject of buying a car with Alphonse, and then it had taken months of arguing and cajoling before his younger, more cautious brother would agree.

Still, now as he drove down the sun-warmed street, Ed admitted it had been worth the wait. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing the machine he controlled worked because he took care of it, and the speed with which he could now travel was a heady freedom. The thought flickered through Ed's mind that he used to feel a similar mixture of liberty and contentment after a productive night studying alchemy texts, and he wondered if this was how Winry had felt about automail.

The thought of Winry made Ed even more aware of the box sitting in his coat pocket, and his foot shifted on the gas pedal, speeding up the car and earning him a shout of surprise from the driver he almost hit. Sheepish, Edward eased up on the gas and edged nearer the curb as the dark brick façade of Sara's home pulled into view.


Sara opened the door after the first knock and waved Edward in with the wicked-looking hatpin in her left hand. "Have a seat," she invited as she perched a dark blue, bell-shaped hat on top of her pinned hair. "I'll be ready in a minute."

"Sorry if I'm a little early," Ed said, dropping into one of the wooden chairs that sat at her dining table. "I'm still not used to how long it takes to drive over here." Comfortably seated, he turned his attention back to Sara and added, "You look nice."

"Hm?" she responded vaguely, her attention riveted to the task of skewering the hat to her hair without piercing flesh in the process.

A smile played at Ed's lips as he watched her work. For their planned outing tonight, Sara had chosen a loose fitting dress the same shade of dark blue as her hat , with ribbons of light blue adorning both the hat and the low waist of her dress. As he watched her at the mirror, a tiny ball of ginger-coloured fur tumbled into the room, mewing. Recalling Havoc's affinity for his black-clad ankles, Edward eyed the newcomer warily.

Perhaps the kitten noticed the scent of a foreign cat or it possessed an uncanny sense to identify those most uncomfortable around itself, but it made directly for Ed, sniffing carefully around the young man's shoes. Ed growled low in frustration and wagged his foot, but the motion did nothing to deter the inquisitive cat, who simply moved to explore a more stationary part of his leg. "Shoo, you dumb cat," Ed muttered, flicking his hand at the kitten.

"Are you picking on Ginny, Edward?" Sara asked as she turned away from the mirror, satisfied that the hat was in no danger of falling off.

"No!" Ed replied, rising to his feet. "I just didn't want her to get me even more covered in fur. Havoc already did that." The diminutive Ginny gave Edward's pants one last curious bat, then darted behind Sara, curling against her stocking-clad ankles. "You and Al are both completely convinced I kick cats when nobody is looking," he grumbled. "It's not my fault that they pick bad times to jump on me."

Sara laughed as she stepped into her shoes. "They just love you, I guess," she teased, brushing her lips against his cheek in a brief kiss. "Sorry if I'm being uncharitable."

Ed felt the familiar tingle of warmth on his cheek at the momentary contact. Though it had been more than half a year since he and Sara had begun this awkward, shuffling shambles of a courtship, the faintest blush of pink still rose in his skin at the quick fleeting kisses they shared. While Sara found his discomfiture endearing, he continued to be annoyed, though still grateful, that by now the reaction had subsided to a weak flush instead of the bright red and stammering wreck he'd been initially.

Shaking his head to clear the rambling thoughts that had sprung up like ivy, Edward offered her his left hand as he gestured to the door. "You're almost as tall as I am in those shoes," he said, a trace of indignation in his voice.

Sara paused in the doorway and looked down at her feet, then up at her companion before speaking. "Come on," she teased, "if you're going to complain all the way, we'll never get to dinner."


Sara glanced around the dining room, her eyes drawn alternately to the caricatures that sprinkled the cream-coloured walls and the parade of finely dressed men and women. "I feel a little under-dressed," she remarked, nodding ever-so-slightly at the couple that walked by their table, the woman fairly dripping with sleek fur and sparkling stones.

"You—You look beautiful." Ed stumbled over the compliment and felt his ears warm, but relaxed at the pleasure in her eyes as she giggled softly. His thoughts brushed the box resting in his pocket and he wondered whether he should give Sara her birthday present now, or wait until after dinner. While the jewelry decked woman had given him the perfect opening, Ed felt nervous, still unsure of whether the gift was appropriate despite Alphonse's continued reassurances.

Edward's internal debate was solved by the appearance of the waiter, bearing their orders. With silent efficiency, he set a plate of red-sauced pasta in front of Sara and a breaded cutlet covered in sauce and cheese in front of Ed before disappearing. With a relieved smile, Ed dug into his meal.

As he chewed an overenthusiastic mouthful, Sara wiped sauce from her lip and shook her head in amazement. "I still can't believe you're eating veal."

Shrugging, Ed made a visible effort and swallowed successfully. "I learned to likeschnitzel when I was in Germany," he explained. "This isn't the same, but it's good. You should try some." At her almost panicked expression, he laughed and shook his head. "Suit yourself. You don't know what you're missing." In response, she ignored him, pointedly returning her attention to her own meal.


Edward toyed with the white linen napkin in his lap as the waiter discretely removed the empty plates from their table and Sara murmured her thanks. "I suppose I should say happy birthday," he said, suddenly shy as he drew the flat pasteboard box from his pocket and set it on the table. Sara looked taken aback by the gesture, and her eyes flickered between the box and the man sitting across the table. When she said nothing, Ed gave a nervous cough and added, "Well, happy birthday. It's not much, but I thought of you when I saw it. Al thinks it suits you too."

Still hesitant, Sara removed the top of the box with gentle hands, and a smile blossomed over her face when she saw the contents. "Ed, this is beautiful!" The necklace was a simple piece of brass and blue glass, done in geometric curves that still managed to evoke the sense of a growing vine with blooming blue flowers. Sara lifted it out of its box, and the glass beads twinkled like small blue stars as they swayed.

"Go ahead and put it on," Ed encouraged, his nervous expression metamorphosing into a wide grin as he watched her. She nodded and unhooked the clasp, draping the necklace around her throat before refastening it behind her. It was shorter than the long ropes of beads currently in style, but Ed thought the necklace suited Sara perfectly, resting on her smooth skin with the central bead falling right at the neckline of her dress.

"It's perfect," Sara said, unconsciously running a finger across the gift at her neck. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Ed answered as he pointed again to the box. "It's a set. There is a pair of earrings in there too, if you like earrings." Sara nodded her acknowledgement as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and Ed noticed with a start that there was no jewelry adorning her earlobe, that in fact the flesh was unmarred by any piercing. "Your ears aren't pierced!" he exclaimed, surprised.

Sara's hand reached for her earlobe and she fingered it absentmindedly. "No, I never got it done," she answered. Misunderstanding the sudden change in Edward's expression, she added, "Your gift was perfect, Ed. The necklace, the earrings, they're all beautiful."

Something unreadable flickered through the warm gold of Edward's eyes, but in a moment it was gone and his lips curved into its familiar smile. "I'm glad you liked the necklace," he said as he placed several folded bills on the table. After catching the waiter's eye and giving the man a wordless nod, Ed stood up and offered Sara his hand. "Come on, we should get going or we'll be late."


Edward remained distracted as he drove south, following Sara's directions and bringing the car to a stop outside a tall, pale-coloured church on Avenue B. He followed as she entered the building, stumbling against his companion as she paused at the entrance to the nave to cross herself. "You brought me to church?" he asked in surprise, his voice echoing loudly through the great room as he took in his surroundings. He had the grace to blush as Sara glared and grabbed his elbow, steering him to an empty pew.

Her grip still firm on his left arm, Sara forced Ed to sit down before she spoke, pitching her voice low to avoid sending her own words soaring through the vaulted space. "We're here for a performance that Mrs. Halifax invited me to." At his blank look, she added, "She's the mother of the red-headed child… Bee Boy, as you are so fond of calling him. They're hosting a visiting sister from some convent outside the city, and she's agreed to perform for them; that's why we're here." Sara gave the arm beneath her hand a warning squeeze before letting go and added, "Don't think I wouldn't drag you to church if I thought it'd do you any good."

An exaggerated look of wounded pride on his face, Ed pulled away from the young woman next to him, rubbing his pinched arm. "So we're here to listen to some tone deaf nun sing? This is how you want to spend your birthday?" he asked in disbelief. "Anyways, I didn't know you did that whole," he interrupted himself in order to wave his hands in a complexly incorrect imitation of Sara crossing herself, "thing."

Sara sighed and snuck a look around the church, but Edward's act of sacrilegious mimicry went unnoticed by those gathered within. "My grandfather was very devout," she answered primly, "I learned when I was young how to act in church." Ed ignored her pointed jab and began gazing around the interior, his eyes tracing the web of dark ribs above their heads.

The great vaulted ceiling with its network of spreading ribs gave Ed the distinct impression that they sat within the belly of a capsized boat and he dropped his eyes back down, disoriented. He glanced at the woman sitting next to him, her hair twisted and pinned beneath her hat. She absentmindedly tucked a loose blonde strand behind her ear, and he was reminded of the same gesture from a younger woman, physically identical but whose personality and essence were a world away. He remembered how she would repeat the gesture as she bent over the masterpieces she created, hands slick with sweat and oil as she pushed away hair the colour of corn silk to reveal the multiple twinkles of silver that had been his gifts to her.

Edward wondered if Winry still wore those earrings he had given her, or if in the last six years they had been lost or put away. Perhaps another man, faceless in his mind's eye, had seen what he had been too blind to see, and Winry was now happy and loved, sporting a band of glittering gold on her left hand. The thought twisted something deep within Ed, and he shook his head, trying to dispel the mental image.

The motion caught Sara's attention and she touched his hand, concern written on her face. "Just hoping Al doesn't work too late," Ed lied.

Sara's brow wrinkled in worry at the mention of the younger Elric brother. "I wanted to ask Al and Evangeline to come with us tonight," she said. "I feel like I haven't seen Alphonse in months."

"The Times has been keeping him busy," Ed answered. "He's even been bringing articles home to finish after work. But it's a good thing you didn't ask him. He and that Evangeline girl haven't seen each other in weeks. I think they've broken it off."

Sara gave him a lengthy sidelong look at his response, scrutinizing his expression for a clue as to how he felt about the new development, but Edward remained impassive. She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment the lights that illuminated the church began to dim, and an expectant hush spread through the crowd.

A girl, no older than sixteen, appeared at the front of the church, her youth and diminutive size emphasized by the voluminous habit she wore, which gave the impression of drowning her in somber blue cloth. She curtseyed to the gathered crowd, and light from the jewel-like stained glass windows behind her head turned her pale hair a striking shade of lilac. "She's just a girl," Edward hissed, appalled. "Whose bright idea was to force her into a convent?" Before Sara could answer, the nameless girl began to sing, and both Sara and Edward were silenced, their attention now riveted to the rich notes that hung shining in the air like drops of gold.


The child nun sang in Latin, her bell-like voice soaring and tumbling through the notes and giving the ancient words a lilting melody, but even though Edward had studied Latin since he was young in attempts to decipher his father's alchemy books, he understood none of what was being said. Still, Ed allowed the music to break like a wave around him and felt a sense of clarity return to his mind as she sang, as if the jumble of thoughts that had rattled through his mind all evening suddenly fell into place.

Before he knew it, the performance had ended, and a heavy silence fell over the audience. He blinked owlishly and turned to Sara to find the same expression on her face. The room seemed to draw a collective breath in that heavy silence before it shattered with the sound of applause. Edward gave Sara a smile and rose to his feet, applauding. Others soon followed his example, and the girl on stage turned bright pink at the reaction, curtseying deeply in acknowledgement before scurrying off-stage. Ed continued clapping for a few moments more before he touched Sara's arm, nodding at the exit; she understood and followed as he began weaving his way through the crowd.

"She's hardly tone-deaf, don't you think?" Sara asked as they exited the church, Edward hurrying her towards his parked car.

Ed dug in his pockets for his keys and shook his head. "I was wrong, I admit," he answered. "She had an amazing voice. Do you know who she was, or is she just some nun?"

"I don't, but I'll ask Mrs. Halifax the next time I see her," Sara promised, sliding into the passenger seat as Ed opened the door. "Thank you for tonight," she added as Edward settled into the driver's seat and started the car. "It's been a very happy birthday."

"You're welcome," came Ed's embarrassed answer, though he immediately busied himself with the task of driving. "Happy birthday, again."

The two rode back uptown in companionable silence, with Sara making an occasional comment on the people they passed. During a lull, when Ed had the car stopped at an intersection to allow pedestrians passage, he spoke, his voice hesitant, "Sara?"

"Yes Edward?" She seemed to sense that something was on his mind and said no more, content to allow him his own pace.

"About your birthday gift," he said. "I hope you won't feel obligated to do anything drastic for those earrings. The necklace is beautiful on you, and there's no need to wear the earrings if you're not comfortable with that kind of thing." A loud honk from the car waiting behind them jolted Ed out of his speech, and he fell silent, returning to the task of driving without another word.

Perplexed by his words, Sara gave her companion a searching look, which he ignored as he turned right and found enough space by the curb to park. She allowed herself a silent sigh and touched the necklace at her throat involuntarily as she opened the door. Another day, and another mystery that she suspected would remain tantalizingly unsolved was added to her knowledge of Edward Elric. "Why don't you come on up," she invited, "and stay for a cup of tea?"

Edward stared wide-eyed at her for a moment, startled by the unexpected invitation. "I—I'd be glad to," came the stammered answer as he followed her up to the familiar brick building.


Never-ending Historical Notes

the dining room, ... the caricatures that sprinkled the cream-coloured walls and the parade of finely dressed men and women - Founded in 1926, The Palm restaurant is one of the most famous historical restaurants in New York City. It started out as a simple Italian restaurant and gradually became a world-renowned steakhouse. There are still cartoon caricatures on the walls of the original Palm restaurant from when the owners would trade poor cartoonists a plate of spaghetti for a doodle on the wall.

a tall, pale-coloured church on Avenue B - St. Brigid's, also known as Famine Church, is located on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Built in 1848 by Irish shipwrights who came to the US to escape the Great Irish Famine (1845-1849), the church boasted seven 25 ft tall stained-glass windows (estimated to be worth $100,000 apiece), which were unceremoniously destroyed when the Archdiocese of New York disbanded the parish in 2006. The vaulted ceiling of St.Brigid's has often drawn comparison to the hull of a boat, undoubtedly due to the former occupation of its builders.