Golden Scales Chapter 36
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.
o.O.0.O.o
William stood outside Selena's cabin door, debating on what he'd say to her if she let him in. He knew exactly what he wanted to convey, he just didn't know how. He also knew it was silly to be nervous. The old him would've just barged right in without knocking and demanded what he wanted from her. But now that he'd broken from those habits, he'd begun to realize how human he could be. How close he was to returning to his real self. The self without thousands of other souls marring his take on the world.
Even so, no matter how close he was to being normal again, he knew he'd have to shift back to his monstrous form at least a few more times. If only to prove his identity in the oh-so-confusing scheme of things. To Selena, he was an ordinary jewel merchant from Aerugo. The one who'd questioned their navigation to Miru Island at the last meeting. In order to convince her to help his cause, Will needed her to understand who he really was.
Which brought him here, in front of her cabin door, debating whether he should shift his form now and get it over with, or if doing so might jeopardize his audience before it starts. Before he could make up his mind, however, he found himself knocking on the door.
"Come in," the voice inside called.
Will swallowed, remaining in his merchant's appearance, as he nudged the door open and stepped inside. Once he'd shut the door behind him and turned around, he saw Selena sitting at her desk, striking a blade with a stone: she was sharpening her sword.
Her long red hair was sloppily thrown up into a ponytail. Sweat glistened off of her tanned skin. The sleeves of her loose cotton shirt were pushed to her elbows, and her vest lay discarded at her bedside. She wore her usual long flowing gypsy skirts and leather boots.
"So," she continued casually, "What brings you here?"
Will dropped his shoulders and took the plunge. He told her everything. How he and a few other homunculi have turned against Father and plotted the bastard's ultimate demise. How they needed all the help they could get in either defeating or subduing the other homunculi. How they aimed to collect the Moon Stone and sever their unearthly ties to their Philosopher's Stones.
When he was finished, Selena said nothing for a while. She just sat there, staring at her sword, a forlorn expression robbing her face of its usual slyness. Will had begun to think Selena had zoned out, but suddenly she muttered,
"I agree with you. That ass who calls himself 'Father' ought to be slaughtered with his own weapon."
Will, confused as to where she was going with this, tilted his head.
She sighed and bowed her head. "But I suppose my weapon will do as good as any."
A wide grin spread across Will's lips. "You mean—"
"I can't join you in your fight," she interrupted, "I can't put this ship through another battle. It's due to collapse any year now, and I won't put my crew at risk, either. But… I can give you this."
Will blinked as Selena handed him her beloved sword. He stared at the blade, positively gob-smacked. The smoky green Xingese dragon seared into the metal seemed to stare back at him as if to say, "What are you looking at me for? Concentrate on your fight!"
"I-I… I don't understand…" Will finally mustered.
Selena smiled. "That is no ordinary blade, Envy. Surely you've known me long enough to realize that."
Will winced at his old name, but found himself nodding.
"You'll find that this blade will always return to you," she continued, "Even if you throw it into the sea. And you can trust it to know what to do even when you're in inch from death. Guard it with your life, and it will do the same."
Twenty seconds later found him standing outside of Selena's cabin, wondering what just happened to lead him there, holding probably the most valuable thing she possessed:
The Jade Sword.
o.O.0.O.o
For once, I woke to the gentle swaying of the boat. The natural rhythm of the sea that lulled me to sleep the night before. When I opened my tired eyes, I noticed the light missing from the lanterns. In place of that light, thick beams of golden sunshine seared their way in through the windows and illuminated the brig. In all honesty, that light should've been refracted and dissipated through the murk of the seawater. But I didn't care enough to give it a second thought.
I levered myself up into a half-upright sitting position, leaning on my side as if I were going to hurl. Bones popped and muscles all but whined in agony. I hissed in surprise when I pressed a bruise on my upper tail. My hair stung from last night's investigation. Yes, I really just said that. My hair stung.
Said hair writhed angrily about my head, filling me with an odd mixture of awkwardness and guilt.
Unsure what to do, I pressed the offended strands between my thumb and index finger and stroked in the direction of growth, like how one might smooth knots out of their hair. While I did this, I thought about what I might do with these last two days until the Fuhrer came to get me. Would I attack the next unlucky person to come down here and demand to be set free? Would I play good-little-captive and strike when they least expected it? Or would I wait and bide my time?
I snorted. Yeah right. Like I had enough patience to wait. Even so, they were all fair questions. If I had my legs and my alchemy, the first plan would be a no-brainer for me. But now that I had neither, how would I even go about "attacking?" How would I manage to convince them to listen to me? I couldn't very well threaten to end their life. That wasn't my style. I didn't kill people.
Yet, sitting around and pretending to be a defenseless little rabbit didn't sound like an ideal route, either. I doubted they'd trust me enough to drop their guards around something like me. After all, I had electricity. With my shark-like teeth, I had one hell of a nasty bite. And, if I wasn't mistaken, the muscles in my tail-fin were more than capable of knocking someone unconscious.
At the time, I knew I wasn't something to sneeze at. But I was still naive to the one thing sirens were known best for. My most powerful advantage still laid undiscovered in my biological arsenal. Had I known of its existence at the time, my fate may have unfolded in an entirely different direction. Long story short, I'm glad that I was raised ignorant to magic and fairy-tales. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't be here to tell this story.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, still thinking in the brig. Right. Well, it most likely won't be surprising to know that I eventually settled for the third plan. My least favorite, but it was also my only solid hope. However, despite my decision, I acted quite differently when the Fuhrer came down to get me. You see, I'd thought since the sailor told me three days that that was a perfect number. But in reality, with the weather perfect as it was, and no obstacles blocking the path, the ship had traveled three days' worth of distance in half that time.
When I finished my mental decision-making process, the door atop the stairway slammed open, and soldiers poured into the brig by the dozen. I panicked. And I pulled the muscle in my chest.
o.O.0.O.o
On the deck above the brig, down the hall, a random crew member was dutifully performing some maintenance work on a wall panel. So far, his day had been relatively dull. He woke up at his usual appointed time, completed his daily list of chores, and sat in the crow's nest for a couple of hours. Now, under the instruction of Selena, he mended the cracks in the walls as best he could in the second lowest deck of the ship.
Fortunately or unfortunately, his day got more interesting after that.
He just about finished his last transmutation circle when suddenly the deck started to shake. The lanterns rattled and the lights flickered. Finally, the crew member gasped as he watched a whole squadron of soldiers dressed in blue marching down the steps and pouring onto the deck. His heart began to race once he noticed that they were all heavily armed; though something wasn't quite right with their guns.
Nonetheless, the crew member took a generous amount of steps backwards.
Rightly so, too, because the world ripped yet another rug from under his feet when a very large, very intimidating one-eyed man followed the soldiers down the stairs. This one, the leader he figured, pointed a sword towards the door to the brig and ordered them forward.
Obeying the man's command, the group of soldiers squared their shoulders and plunged forth. The leader then followed the last row down, leaving the door open.
At this point, the crew member wanted nothing more than to scram and hide in his cabin for the rest of the day. But he couldn't. He was paralyzed. As if his muscles consisted of solid lead, his limbs were glued to the ground by gravity.
"AHHHGGHHH!" a voice from below screamed.
It startled him, but not as much as the sound of crackling. The bright light reflecting on the still open door. The horrid stench of ozone and burning flesh. And the screams. So many screams…
The crew member's stomach churned at the smell alone, but he actually vomited at the mental notation of those men being electrocuted. He'd witnessed electrocution plenty of times without doors and walls blocking his view, but it was still upsetting.
When his limbs turned into flesh once again, the crew member reluctantly rose to his feet with the help of the wall. From then on he tried to mind his own business and continue patching up said wall. He remembered when he'd first boarded the ship and Selena had drilled him on how he'd behave himself. She let him know ahead of time that a researcher, some soldiers, and the researcher's "specimen" would board the ship at the next port. She also told him that anything and everything he sees regarding them is nothing to be alarmed of.
He tried. He really did. But he couldn't help it when his mind wandered to an earlier conversation with a sailor. The sailor who'd visited that "specimen."
"I'm telling you, that thing is no 'specimen'! It's a siren!"
Suddenly, he found himself believing that preposterous claim. Because when the soldiers returned, carrying a scorch-covered wooden crate, they too were littered with scorch marks. Not only that, but some of them even sported bleeding wounds. Wounds that looked suspiciously similar to shark bites. The crew member could hear the thing inside the crate struggling to break free. He could see the soldiers struggling to hold the crate still.
Finally, the soldiers managed to leave for the upper decks. The leader then reappeared at the top of the brig's steps, not a scratch littering his skin. He shut the door behind him and looked the crew member dead in the eye.
"Say nothing of what you saw." he ordered.
The crew member swallowed the heavy lump in his throat and nodded his head vigorously in agreement.