Prompt: One Word Micro Story- "Silent Fury", for BleedingCoffee on Tumblr.
Character: Roy Mustang
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The first time he heard the Ishvalan language, he had thought it alarming, brash, like the barking of stray dogs in blackened alleys during the late hours of night. His heartbeat spiked everytime the sound touched his ears, leaving him fearful of a tongue he did not understand, and a people he did not know.
After time, however, he grew accustomed to it. Whispers of Ishvalan prayers crept into his ears at night during his time as a trainee, and though it caused him sleepless nights in his early years, those harsh syllables turned into a rhythmatic lullaby. They became a part of his daily life, like the rocks that make up the the walk to home. Not vital, but they were there, and in some small way, they aided his journey.
But, the extermination took that all away. The once calming rolling of the tongue had turned into horrifying screams, hateful curses spat at his feet, and bloodied cries for mercy. The red eyes of his childhood nightmares were back, but not as the monsters he had so foolishly thought them to be. They were the bodies that fell at his feet, staring forever into the empty void where his soul should have been, chanting that once innocent prayer. The language haunted him, forever playing over and over and emover/em until he thought he'd go mad.
Now, the liquor numbs the ache of those crisp and throaty syllables. The sound doesn't ache behind his ears, all that is left is the silent fury burning in their eyes.
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