Chapter 12: All-seeing, All-knowing.
NOTE: Envy will be referred to as 'it' from now on. I will be going back and changing all the masculine pronouns in the previous chapters as well. I thought it would be best to do so because it would better differentiate Envy from Edward and the human race as a whole; an alien in an alien world.
Trying to make it more human, as I have done in all the prior chapters, by referring to it in strict gender terms would do disservice to the inspiring struggle to be accepted in a world where every ounce of its being defies the socially constructed norms of human society, gender being just one of them. This is also one of the minor changes I will be making to this fic. For the rest, please check out the description. So, without further ado, enjoy the late chapter twelve! -frostysnowman94.
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It was twilight in the city of Geldberg, and only the rhythmic steps of the procession of captors and captives kept silence at bay. The purplish hue of the horizon shed little light into the main street, through which they walked, once so chaotic with life, now gravely void of its former vigour. To compensate, the leader of the silent procession held up a candle-lit lantern above its head (which he had, unseen by Envy during their heated exchange in the abandoned house, been carrying about his person since they had met). Envy smiled to itself. Things hadn't much changed in these hundred years, it seemed.
A great weight was dragging the creature's spirits despite its confidence in its ability to save itself and young Edward from the wrath of the Law, and this was the simple yet profoundly hurtful fact that the entire journey, nor since the incident in the alleyway, the boy had not acknowledged it, or spoke to him. Yes, Envy just killed a man, but it had done so on Edward's behalf. Surely its friend could understand that? Surely it would not make its friend hate it, repulse it? The very thought that this was even slightly true tore a hole in the creature's chest, pouring forth not blood but the most maddening, aching grief which haunted it now, a ghost from the dark days of its creator's sudden abandonment of it all those hundreds of years ago.
In a desperate attempt to briefly push away this horrible emptiness, Envy now dwelled on the fact that it had killed a human being. It was too vivid, too horrible an event to cast aside. It had taken a life, and no matter how often it had wished to do so while in the flask, or how often it had believed itself fated to do so, the homunculus could not remove the sensation of a cold, draining horror. The enormity of the deed, the utmost crime in the eyes of Man and his divine creator (supposedly, presuming that God truly cared, which Envy doubted), and Envy had committed it. He had used his power to strip clean a living being of its soul and left its lifeless husk dead and cold in the alleyway. No matter the ends, the means through which it had achieved them did not change, and now shouted out in bloody accusing red letters forming in its mind's eye: MURDERER.
Squeezing its eyes shut and grimacing in mental agony, biting back a heavy groan, Envy forced itself to focus on its surroundings upon opening them.
Doing so, the homunculus immediately noticed that there was not a soul about. This struck it as very odd. Yes, it was evening now, but not even the beggars, who had earlier been confined to the street's outskirts, were present in their places, sleeping or otherwise. Where had they gone? What were they avoiding?
Spurred by this nagging curiosity, Envy found reason to voice it.
"Where is everyone?"
Half-expecting no response, the homunculus was mildly surprised to hear the lead alchemist behind Edward reply.
"You're not from here, then?" its captor remarked. "The outside is off-limits past eight o'clock. Everyone, even the lowliest beggar, is required to find some shelter. Those who have no accommodation must seek refuge outside the city, under trees and such."
Envy looked turned its head sideways to look back at the man, human azure left eye intrigued. It wanted to pursue the issue, but was still in a state of great unease within itself and its current predicament, and did not trust its mind to press any given subject as of yet. Best to wait and discover in due course.
"You are awfully willing to disclose information to me," the homunculus remarked, with a tone settling somewhere in-between suspicion and admiration
The raven-haired alchemist, whose eyes Envy now clearly recognised were of two different colours—the left a metallic bronze, the other a wintery grey, regarded it calmly. But this particular human stood out in the ancient homunculus' mind for more than just his unusual appearance. His aura, the way he presented himself, was unlike any other he had encountered so far. It was sharp, intelligent, and with an individuality that transcended the bonds of superficial authority of greater powers. Very interesting, indeed.
The man looked back as his captive evenly and without arrogance.
"Well, your question is a perfectly innocent one, whether or not you yourself are. Answering it would not jeopardize any aspect of your trial or disclose any information relating to it," he replied honestly, his voice retaining the cool edge of one who held authority over the proceedings but was unwilling to flaunt this unspoken knowledge.
"I thought you said I had to remain silent," the homunculus countered, one eye bright with a youthful rebelliousness.
"Rules can be bent," the alchemist stated, lips curling.
Envy smirked. Then, taking a deep breath, he said something, with solemn conviction, of cunning, that none present ever expected him to relate.
"I do not deny that I am guilty of the crime for which I am charged," he said, shocking his captors so utterly that they stopped in their tracks and turned to stare at the gentleman, aghast. Edward stared up at the homunculus in human form in utter horror. Did he have a death-wish?
Even their leader was shaken.
"You admit you murdered that man in Nochte Bahn [1] of District Thirty-Six?" he pressed, unable to believe his ears. No charged man or woman or even the youngest child had ever so easily and so speedily admitted their guilt in the city's criminal history.
"If you are referring to the man who lies dead near a fallen revolver..." Envy said, looking at the man for confirmation, who nodded.
"Yes, I killed him," the homunculus confessed, in a tone grim with the remembrance of the deed. "But I am confident I can safely attribute my actions to a just cause. I killed him not out of malice, but of defence of my friend's well-being, put mildly," he went on, unperturbed.
There was a heavy silence, riddled with disbelief at the creature that stood amongst them, emboldened by a grim dignity that most murderers recoiled from.
"...Explain," the alchemist's leader bade finally.
His colleagues were immediately in uproar.
"What? Only the Honourable Magistrate and members of the jury have the right to hear what a convict has to say!", "You will jeopardize the trial!", "Have you lost your mind?"
Their commander was deaf to their cries, and instead said, calmly;
"There is no law stating that convicts cannot confess and explain away their crimes—we are confined within the prison nearby to guard the inmates, and so have no contact with jury or magistrate. This man may say what he likes."
Envy suppressed a grin. As painfully intriguing this human and all his aloof persistence was to the ancient being, it had to remind itself that, all too often, it was individuals such as these that were the most dangerous.
First, there was a matter Envy wanted to resolve.
"Alchemists all, I presume?"
They all nodded the affirmative, and the homunculus felt a chill. Instantly Envy was repulsed at itself for feeling thus. Frustration boiled in its innards. As powerful and as bold as it had become, it was still...
"And...what is your name, then, alchemist?" Envy questioned, forcing itself to regain its composure and soften the tremors jittering down its body, directing its question at the heterochromiac alchemist captain.
The other man paused for a moment before answering.
"...Elias Amsel," he replied.
Envy nodded, slowly.
"I see."
"And yours?"
The disguised homunculus answered without batting an eyelid, dark orbs gleaming:
"Hohenheim," it said. "Von Hohenheim."
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An hour later, Envy having explained the details of the murder, they had arrived. Along the way, Envy had begun to wonder why its captors had not brought a carriage for the journey, and instead insisted on such a long walk. There were no people around to humilate it and Edward with, if that was their intention, which Envy dismissed as an insult to the captian's obvious intelligence.
What were they planning?
As they arrived at the looming giant that was the court house, Envy consoled itself with the knowledge that it had Edward to support, and so it had to calm down for his sake as well as its own. A dreadful weight dropped in its stomach as it realised that, while this was a given, the homunculus could not be certain he had his friend supporting him as well.
Envy turned its head and looked down at the boy, desperately imploring him to meet his gaze and understand.
Edward remained staring at the ground.
It was dark now, yet all the lanterns aligning the streets were out. Only the lead alchemist with lantern in hand made sure they were not walking blind. The air was cool and pleasant, and soothed Envy's anxieties somewhat. It had been a tiny flask amidst silence and blackness all its life up until now, and it knew only what its creator had told it in those brief few months together (Envy thanked his lucky stars it had been inquisitive and learnt much in that period), as well as its innate knowledge of the unknown wired in its ancient mind, imbedded from its origins—the place from whence it had been taken and brought to being on earth, a place even Envy himself did not know the whereabouts of.
Standing before the gigantic iron doors, dyed purest of black by the night, Envy was reminded horribly of the darkness of the Gate. Its pitiless grey eye flashed before its eyes and it recoiled, goose-bumps and cold sweat began to form on its body. Elias, unseen, noted this with interest.
The alchemist with the lantern stepped forward suddenly, and knocked thrice on the surface of the doors. The sound rang out dully in the night.
After a few moments, they opened with a long, grinding creak, as if having awaited them.
Stepping inside, meeting silence and showing it grave discourtesy with their loud footsteps. Lights overhead in the form of a single grand chandelier, and the room in all its detail and clarity burst before their eyes. The dock for the accused to stand, the stand which the defendants and witnesses took to voice their statements, the high seats of the judge and his assistants, the clerks station in the corner to make notes, and finally the pews for the jury on either side of the spacious and grave-toned room.
But this did not surprise Envy in the slightest. It and, it assumed, Edward as well, had expected this.
What it did not expect was that every seat it saw was already occupied.
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All the seats, right down to the lowly clerk, were filled by its appropriate occupants. Envy was speechless, and filled with a building dread. This was madness. It was...it was as if...
The old judge, sitting high above the rest in his long, curled wig and black robes, face lined with years and years of brooding on the notions of justice and crime, watched the procession as they filed in with sombre grey eyes.
Envy and Edward, released from their restraints by their former captors in a harmless burst of red energy, took their place in the dock, and stared at the judge with both anxiety and curiosity. Neither knew what to expect now, or how everything would follow from now on. They only knew they had to fight to persuade Fate to work in their favour. The only reason Envy had accepted their current circumstances so readily was due to the conviction it now felt, like rekindled flames, burning in its stomach. It was tired of running and hiding away like some hunted animal, and it staunchly refused continue thus for the rest of its life while knowing it was still deprived of the joys, sorrows and opportunities the thoughtless, ungrateful humans indulged in. Besides, it had Edward's quality of life to consider as well. What kind of a friend would Envy be, if it allowed itself to have Edward suffer with it without doing all it could to bring them both happiness? It would be monstrous to neglect the boy thus, even if Edward probably hated it now.
Their lives depended on persuading these strangers of their good intention and plight without betraying their identities or origins.
The old judge regarded the alchemists and Elias.
Elias nodded silently.
The judge waved his hand to dismiss them, and they promptly turned and exited the courtroom without another word.
Elias Amsel, the last to leave, paused a moment at the great threshold, and turned to cast his mismatched, piercing eyes on Envy, who, sensing them on him, also turned to meet his gaze.
Something passed between them in those mere seconds of contact, an invisible connection of the minds that none could, at that moment, fathom. There was intrigue in their looks, a desire to understand each other, both knowing the other was blatantly out of the ordinary, and each were wondering subconsciously where that desire would take them, and what it could achieve.
Breaking away, Elias turned on his heel and brought the doors closing on him with a loud, groaning whine, and a final, painful crunch.
Envy was snapped back to reality as the judge's slow, husky voice spoke out in the newly-laid silence of the expectant courtroom.
"You know why you are both here, do you not?" he said.
Envy took a breath, preparing himself for a long, arduous battle.
"Yes, your Honour. I do."
The judge was unimpressed.
"I shall rephrase my question," he said, expression like stone. "You know why you are here, do you not,homunculus?"
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My lily feet are soiled with mud,
With scarlet mud which tells a tale
Of hope that was, of guilt that was,
Of love that shall not yet avail;
Alas, my heart, if I could bare
My heart, this selfsame stain is there:
I seek the sea of glass and fire T
o wash the spot, to burn the snare;
Lo, stairs are meant to lift us higher:
Mount with me, mount the kindled stair.
-'The Convent Threshold', by Christina Rossetti
IMPORTANT NOTICE: I plan on revising a bit of chapters one and two of this fic-only some of the things Envy says. Thinking about it now, and considering realistically what he would be like in this early stage made me think I'd made him out to be too much 'holier than thou', if you know what I mean.
For example, when Edward comes to rescue him on the second occasion, gets upset, and Envy says 'oh what have I done, you know what, don't worry about me, just go home, I'll spend the rest of my days in this flask'. No. Just no. I've got to revise that, and a few other things...Under the circumstances, Envy would be far more selfish than I initially made him out to be. He would be desperate enough to take advantage of a child, no matter his/her feelings. He would use him/her to give him a body, and never once say 'go back home, I'll be fine in my parasitic form', at least until after he gains his human form.
So yeah, you might be interested in checking out the early chapters soon, as there will be some alterations made. Nothing plot-centric, just character-centric, purely on Envy's part. I don't think I've done him justice (at least, in those first few chapters).
EXTRA NOTE: Also, I'm going to confirm the time and place of the first chap IN the first chap. I can't believe I just didn't mention it until freaking CHAPTER 11! 8O Wtf?