May 17th, 1976

"Do you always have people staring while you're here?" Winry asked Riza quietly as she walked next to her friend down the sidewalk under the trees in the warm breeze and afternoon sunshine. Two twenty-somethings had nearly fallen all over themselves when they saw them coming, and stammered apologies as they scrambled out of the way.

"Of course," Riza chuckled. "Sometimes it pays to be legendary."

Winry couldn't help laughing along. "You sound like Roy."

"I'll take it as a compliment," Riza replied, smiling over her shoulder, and the rifle on her shoulder. "Though I'd like to think I still shoot better."

"Oh I'm sure of that," Winry replied as she looked around the grounds of the shooting range. Not that Roy had been a bad shot, as she understood. He just never had a chance of holding up against a trained sniper.

Winry didn't expect to do anywhere near as well as Riza today either, but the offer to spend the day together had included joining Riza for her usual afternoon trip to the range. Many days she still taught classes. Today they were just shooting for the fun of it. Riza refused to get out of practice. Given how useful her skills had been as recently as the disaster in Aerugo, Winry could see why. "You know, if we were a few decades younger, I might believe they were actually impressed by two hot chicks on the range."

Riza laughed. "I get propositioned at least twice a week by men who aren't much older than Maes. Though, usually, they're closer to our age."

"And yet the only person you go out with is Heymans?" Winry asked with a sly chuckle. She knew the two of them came to shoot together fairly often.

"That usually deters unwanted advances, yes," Riza replied, not at all offended. They reached their spot along the range, and she took the shotgun off her shoulder. "No one wants to risk offending a retired President of the Military."

"They aren't afraid of offending the wife of a former President of the Military?" Winry asked as she did the same.

"They think I'll be complimented." Riza rolled her eyes a little. "They usually don't like it when I call them little boys."

"I would imagine not," Winry agreed. "What about Heymans?"

"He doesn't call them little boys," Riza chuckled. "The terms he has are far more colorful, though he is smart enough not let them hear."

"Nice to know he has some tact." Winry watched as Riza lay down first and lined up her sights. "So you see quite a bit of each other."

"He has always been a good friend," Riza replied without nodding. It would have thrown off her aim. "It's nice to have someone to talk with who understands some things without having to say them."

That, Winry could understand only too well. She could imagine that shared loss was as strong a bond of friendship as other shared experiences. "So we shouldn't be concerning ourselves with a surprise elopement then."

At that, Riza did turn her head, and stared at Winry for a long moment before she realized the other woman was joking. Then Riza shook her head. "As I have told my caring and nosy family that is most definitely not a worry. Heymans is still not my type." Then she turned her head, aimed, and put her first shot dead through the center of her target. The second one followed almost exactly on top of it. By the time she finished, the men on either side of them had all stopped to watch. Only when she stopped did one of them whistle in appreciation, and it clearly had nothing to do with their looks.

"You're still amazing," Winry commented as she looked at her friend's tight grouping. "I'm going to look like an absolute amateur next to you."

"You said you've gone out a couple of times at home," Riza pointed out. Of course, Riza had taught Winry how to shoot in the years Ed and Al were gone, but it wasn't something Winry had done outside of target practice then, or after. She had asked mostly to be familiar with the guns, and not afraid of them.

"A couple of times over several years." Winry said as she took position, willing the boys around them to look somewhere else. After Riza, there was no way she would put on much of a show. Winry would be happy as long as she hit her target. "That's hardly keeping in practice."

"This is true," Riza said as Winry lined up her sights on the target. "But it's better than nothing. Is it something you're thinking of doing more now that you have more time?"

"I'm considering it," Winry said, then she focused, and fired.

Six shots later, her target was speckled with holes, though almost none of them were actually near the center of her target.

Riza looked at and smiled at Winry. "I think you either need a lot more practice, or a different hobby."

Winry laughed at her friend's honesty. "I think you're right."

May 20th, 1976

"Thank you for your assistance," Tore said as he signed the property release forms on the desk. "You can send everything to this address."

Krista stood beside him, looking thoughtful. Tore knew she was both excited to be able to claim her father's belongings and disappointed that they hadn't immediately found evidence of Duar Dumais' death being anything other than an accident in what had been confiscated from the house for investigation. Tore hadn't told the officers here that, from what Ed and Al could tell, all of the notes in Amestrian or Cretan were essentially fakes designed to throw off anyone looking for his real notes. There was very little in military hands that had been written in German, and they still thought it was an elaborate code. Ed said that the one document in German was actually nothing more than a real grocery list.

"So, now what?" Krista asked when they had finished the paperwork and stepped outside the West HQ administrative building.

"Now we see what we can find at the house," Ed said with a confident grin.

"Do you really think we'll find more there?" Ted asked. "The military ransacked the place, didn't they?"
The group of them began to walk towards the hotel in which they would be spending the night.

"I think no self-respecting alchemist leaves his real research where just anyone can find it," Ed replied. "His journals were just a start. The information we want will be at the source."

"What if it's not at the house?" Krista asked with a worried expression.

"Then we'll check out the lab."

"Do we have permission for that?" Al asked, chuckling.

"Argyros gave me permission himself," Ed replied, looking even more smug than usual. "I'd rather not have to invoke that authority –it draws too much attention- but we have it if we need it. Not that I think we're going to find more than an abandoned building from the sound of things. They disposed of any equipment and alchemical supplies of any kind that they found."

"But there might be something they haven't found," said James.

"Exactly," Ed nodded before stopping dead on the sidewalk.

"Think of something?" Tore asked with burning curiosity.

Then there was an audible grumble and Ed nodded sideways, at the store front to their right. "How does and all-you-can-eat buffet sound for dinner?"

Tore looked up at the sign that said "Argo's Eatery – Cretan, Amestrian, Aerugean" and shook his head.

Al looked much less surprised. He laughed. "It sounds affordable."

Ed grinned. "Good. Let's eat!"

James lay on his back on the bed in the hotel room he was sharing with Ted and Grandpa Ed. Great-Uncle Al and Uncle Tore had the next room. Krista got one to herself.

At the moment James was alone. Grandpa and Ted were both talking alchemy with Tore, Al, and even Krista. James had left when the conversation got too complex even for his capable intellect, as it moved into pure alchemical theory.

It frustrated him. James hated to admit it, but he was jealous of Ted's knowledge of alchemy. The older alchemists listened to his ideas, and even if they had a counter-argument, they seemed pleased with his answers. It was an area in which James shared no expertise.

Krista, well, she seemed to hang on every word the alchemists said even that which went beyond her limited knowledge of alchemy. The way she looked at his grandfather, you'd have thought he was an ancient god or something. James wondered if Ted had noticed Krista's fascination… he almost wanted to call it a crush, which nearly killed him to think it. Grandpa? How was he supposed to get Krista's attention when his primary competition wasn't his younger cousin anymore? He knew, logically, that Grandpa would never be interested in a girl her age. He loved Grandma Winry. But that didn't mean Krista's emotions were logical.

The door creaked open, but James ignored it. It didn't matter if it was Ted or Grandpa in his given mood. James didn't really feel like talking to either one of them.

"James?"

It was Krista. Immediately, he sat up and tried not to look flustered. "Oh, hi. Did you… want something?"

"Just to talk," she said, looking embarrassed now, and a little unsure. "But if you're busy—"

"I'm not!" James blurted, feeling a bit foolish. "I mean, I was just thinking, but not about anything important. What did you want to talk about?" He felt a little thrill of hope. She had sought him out to talk!

Krista sat down on the other bed, opposite him, her knees almost touching his. "Fullmetal."

His good mood popped. "Grandpa, what about him?" Oh no. James hoped he wasn't going to have to hear her gush about him all evening.

"My father always used to talk about Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and his brother. He had endless stories of their adventures and nothing but praise for their abilities. He always wanted to meet them, but we never traveled. He couldn't be away from his work, he said." Krista swallowed. "Are all the stories true? I thought Dad was exaggerating, but being around them, I want to believe the stories, even the outlandish ones. Dad would have loved this."

So this was about her father. James felt guilty for his earlier ill feelings. He smiled. "Knowing Grandpa, the wilder the story the truer it probably is. He and Great-Uncle Al have done all sorts of crazy things… like crossing this Gate, twice."

"You have a point." Krista smiled back at him. "No wonder Daddy admired them so much."

"Well he must have been quite an alchemist himself, to come through from the other side," James pointed out. He still wasn't entirely sure how he felt about this Gate business. It wasn't exciting. In fact it was pretty unnerving. James felt some things shouldn't be messed with. The nature of the universe was one of them.

But that didn't need to be said to Krista, not at the moment. It probably wouldn't go over well.

"He was," Krista replied, though her smile faded. "But I wonder what he was up to that got him killed. I'm sure it had to do with his research."

"That's what we're here to find out," James pointed out. "And we won't leave until we do."

"Thanks, James." The smile returned to her face, and James thought he might melt. She was so pretty when she smiled. He resisted the urge to lean across the space and try to kiss her. That would be too much too fast, and he doubted she was in a receptive mood at the moment.

Instead he reached out and squeezed her hand.

Krista squeezed back. "I did have another question," she broke the quiet after several moments. "But it's about you."

"Me?" His stomach flopped again.

"Yeah. I was wondering what you wanted to do, you know, after high school. For some reason I've never asked."

James shrugged, regretting when Krista let go of his hand. "I haven't really decided," he admitted. "I've thought about joining the military police, or maybe the military as an officer and aiming for investigations."

"Really?" Krista blinked. "Somehow I figured you for the college type."

"And I've thought about that too." James had spent quite a lot of time thinking about it. "I just don't know what area of study I would want to focus on." There were so many that interested him.

"Brainiac."

"Yep," he grinned. "I just want to apply whatever I study and do something worthwhile with it. I'm not really into politics or medicine. I don't really want to teach either."

"Why not?" Krista asked curiously.

James stretched out his legs. "Because I don't have any patience for stupidity and slackers."

Krista chuckled. "Actually, that sounds like Mr. Hiller."

"It does." She had a point. Their history teacher was an absolute grump when students didn't behave or do their work. James, who was acing the class, was never on the wrong side of those lectures. "But it just doesn't call to me as a profession either."

"And the military does?"

"Is there anything wrong with the military?"

"Well no." Krista looked slightly uneasy. "You just don't seem like the type. I mean, you're not really aggressive or physical. I can't see you shooting someone either."

James had to keep himself from feeling disappointed. He wasn't really offended. She was right. He did well in Phys Ed in school but he didn't play sports much. He avoided activities that would get him beat on –the fight with Ted being a notable exception- and he didn't really like violence. "Then shouldn't there be a few more people who don't attack everything with violence in the military?" he suggested. "Dad's not really the violent type, but he works for President Rehnquist and he's a decorated war hero. No one in my family responds violently as their first response. Well…except Grandpa sometimes," he admitted. And Grandma, if some of the stories were true. "His temper is legendary."

Krista chuckled. "I've heard, though I haven't seen it."

"Something about Xingese meditation techniques," James replied. "So what do you want to be; an alchemist?"

"Maybe," Krista replied. "I mean yes, I'd love to learn more alchemy, I just don't think I want to make my living that way."

"So what then?" James was happy to steer the conversation in another direction, one more focused on Krista.

"Well, I'm good with kids. I thought it might be fun to teach pre-school. I'd really like to work helping kids without families too, or those with family problems. So I might be a councilor instead of a teacher."

How selfless. "Wow, I think that's great," James replied honestly. "So we both want to make a difference. Though I think your plan is better than mine."

"For me anyway," Krista replied. "Not for you obviously. Little kids need more patience."

"That's the truth." James had seen her with Tore's kids, and Krista was much more patient with them than he was, even though Dare had always said he liked having James as the occasional babysitter and they got along fairly well. "I'd rather deal with someone old enough I don't have to worry about scarring them for life."

The doorknob turned and James looked up sharply. A moment later, Grandpa Ed entered. He stopped when he saw them both sitting there, and grinned. "Sorry. Looks like I've interrupted something."

James could have killed him.

Krista's face went bright pink and she stood bolt upright. "Oh, not really. We were just talking… sir. I should get back to my room, really. It's getting late umm… good night." And as Ed moved into the room, she bolted past him and out the door.

Apparently his legend had not been dimmed this evening.

James glowered. "Thanks, Grandpa."

He wasn't expecting the scowl that replaced his grandfather's grin. "Just remember why you're here. Now let's get some sleep. We've got a long day of traveling tomorrow."

Why he was here? James pondered that statement as he got ready for bed, and even after Ted returned and the lights were out, he was thinking. He was here for Krista. So what was Grandpa's problem?

May 21st, 1976

The house on the hill outside the little border town of Quixal might have been picturesque once but now, only three years later, it already had a feeling of long abandonment. The peeling paint was dirty and gray. Wild vines clambered up the walls as if trying to consume the house like a green-tentacled squid. A broken window had let in the rain, and small wild animals, and inside the forlorn structure the wooden floors were worn and weathered.

Edward resisted the urge to quip about cozy cottages or make some other sardonic comment. Krista looked like she was trying very hard to hold back tears. Three years ago, this had been her home, the one she had spent her life in with the father she loved. That life was gone.

Looking at it, Ed could probably have restored the house in no time with a little alchemy, but they were trying not to call too much attention to themselves. Hard to do out in small towns like this one.

"So where do we start?" Ted broke the quiet that had fallen over them.

"Daddy's room was this one," Krista moved across the open living room to the short hall in the back and opened a door to the left.

"Which means it's probably picked clean," Ed pointed out, "But we'll start there anyway. There may be something hidden they didn't find." He followed Krista into the room.

There wasn't much of anything left; an empty bed stand, a broken chair. The closet stood open and empty. It only took a couple of minutes to give the room a thorough look over and determine that there were no hidden compartments, nothing shielded with an alchemical lock, or hidden away. Not in this room. "Let's search the rest of the house."

They broke up into teams. Ed teamed himself up with Krista. It made the most sense. He paired Al off with James, and Tore with Ted. It seemed the most efficient use of man power, and the best way to balance experience.

It also meant that in only another hour, they had scoured the rest of the house and find little to nothing of interest. Most anything that had not been taken by the military for examination, or sent with Krista to her Grandmother in Central, was gone, or falling apart.

So it was a stroke of luck –and stubborn perseverance- that they found anything useful at all, stuffed under a loose floorboard, under a scrap of throw-rug so old and faded it looked almost part of the wood itself.

The box was metal, snug tight, and locked, but alchemy was an easy fix for that problem. Al transmuted it open as James rounded them all up, and so Ed was leaning over his brother as Al opened the box.

The contents seemed to be those not particularly atypical of a personal lock box. There was a diamond ring inside, the deed to the house they were standing in, and –a bit oddly- an old metal cigarette case.

"Dad didn't smoke. Neither did Mom," Krista commented, puzzled. "But the ring is Mom's."

"So what's this for then?" Ed knelt down. He picked up the case, turned it over, and examined the pattern etched lightly on the outside. He stopped less than a quarter of the way through tracing the faint lines. "Al, check this out."

Al leaned sideways to get a look at it, and squinted. Then his eyes widened. "Why would he scratch that on a cigarette case?"

"A good question," Ed replied, looking at the transmutation circle. Would it have worked? It didn't look like it was complete, when he looked closer. There were a couple of elements missing that he knew were required to open the gate. Maybe Duar Dumais had just been trying to work it out on something no one was likely to look at twice. Or maybe, maybe he was hiding it. On a hunch, Ed opened the case.

Immediately a folded piece of paper fell out. Al picked it up, and opened it. "We're not going to find anything else here," he said aloud.

"What does it say?" Ed asked impatiently.

"It says, The way to Truth lies along the road where fire lights the way at first, but darkness brings you home."

"And you deduced there's nothing here from that?" James snorted.

Ed gave James a scowling look. "The Truth. I didn't know anyone from the other world would call it that name. I wonder where he uncovered that little piece of information." He wondered, without speaking aloud, what Duar had given up on his way through the gate. Chances were, he knew about Truth, because he had met it. "Clearly the answers aren't here. That means that they're where ever this road ends."

"Well, if fire lights the way at first, wouldn't that mean the road heads east?" Ted suggested, then scowled. "But there's nothing East of here. And didn't you say his workshop was in Creta? That's west."

"Unless the road leads into a volcano," Al suggested thoughtfully.
"But what about the darkness?" James asked.

"Under a volcano, not inside it, would be pretty dark," Tore pointed out. "Or, the road really does head East, and it's a long enough walk that it's dark when you get there."

Ed thought furiously, puzzling over the exact meaning of the words. He was almost certain they were a map of sorts, that would lead them to the answers. "What if the starting point isn't the house," he said at last. "I think the road probably starts at the workshop."

"Those mountains are littered with roads and trails," Krista looked excited, but thoughtful. "If Daddy didn't want even his colleagues to find his work, near the end, maybe the important stuff is in those mountains."

"It's worth a shot." Ed grinned, and refrained from ruffling the girl's hair, like he might have his grandkids. His smile had the effect of making her blush, and that was as much as he was willing to embarrass her. "We'll head to Creta tomorrow. For tonight, I suggest we find someplace to stay." He reached down and closed the box, with everything inside it, and handed it to Krista. "These belong to you."

Krista nodded and took the box without a word.

"All right." Ed stood up and dusted off his knees. "Let's go."