Silent Song

Chapter 35: Carpe Diem

Disclaimer: You don't know how much I wish I owned this franchise. God, I need money.

Warning: Mentions of rape

Summary for teh lulz XD (let me die please):

Envy: I'm 90% sure he's gonna start writing emo poetry. Hopefully, it's slam poetry, since I'm a fan of that. Unfortunately, I'm not gonna be a fan when he's going over his angsty and confused feelings about letting Lark go and Hohenheim and dammit Dante this isn't a phase

Dante: She's me in 200 years: vain, manipulative, and really fucking salty about everything. That cougarish thing she has for Edward, though, that's not me.

Rose: Literally the least lucky of people, so I gotta be a bit serious with her. After the atrocities she's been through in Liore, she has more to suffer through. Good news is, she's not here for most of the time. That kid she has is her entire world and those FMA 2003 writers are going to get some strongly worded letters one day.

Lark Levington: I'd say luck's a lady with her, but Luck can't be a lady if it's this capricious and unstable. *self-high-fives* But really, ever since she left the city, she's got a reputation for herself now. Everybody knows and they feel left out. She's got herself down, she got herself stressed out (about the choices she has made and what she plans on making).

Edward Elric: Has been part of the world's worst Where's Waldo? game. Even when he's winning, he's not winning.

Alphonse Elric: Is the virgin in the sacrifice circle. That pretty much sums him up, honestly.

Envy was a selfish creature.

He had known this for nearly all of his existence—after all, he had been created under this same selfishness. It was this that bubbled underneath his skin, the true monster. Yet, with all his pettiness and disdain, he had rarely acted on these urges.

(Let it be known: Envy had some semblance of self-discipline.)

In the end, there was a singular thing that held him back. Powerlessness, helplessness, whatever word that defined the complete and utter lack of control in his life. Whatever desire he had, it was reined in by Dante's hold over him; she was the only person that could produce the red stones that he lived on. It may have bred resentment between the two of them—or perhaps that was how it had always been—but Envy still needed Dante as much as she needed him.

So, in all his years of serving her, why was it only now that he rebelled? He had gotten close to the brink before, but never actualized the private fantasy.

Levington. That name filled him with nostalgia, the painful pining and longing and regretting. He was in the past, yet Envy couldn't bring himself to forget.

But Lark...Her name was a flame in the dark, a song in the silence, a breeze in the summer heat. The feelings she conjured up could be disastrously interpreted as hope.

To call her Lark Levington would be combining these things, the past and the present and, possibly, the future. Did he want that to happen?

Well, you've gone and done it now.

An hour later, Lark's room was empty. He hadn't wanted to try to mince words for a goodbye. There had been no hesitation in her eyes when she'd thanked him, so he didn't know where that inkling of disappointment came from. She's taken the chance and run with it with no holding back.

Nothing like a life or death situation to stir a person to action.

Envy paced around the room, trying to come up with a lie to tell Dante in case of varying circumstances. His idiotic ass hadn't thought about the consequences too deeply and now he was left devoid of any good excuse.

(But did he regret what he had done? No, not yet.)

Without Lark around, what was his objective? Hohenheim, his mind whispered. Revenge.

But Hohenheim was gone, too. The realization hit Envy like a bolt of lightning. He had been so preoccupied with Lark for the past few days that he had completely forgotten about the bastard.

That constant fixation that had fueled Envy's rage for centuries—now he had been abandoned for good. All that searching and scheming had gone to waste. Everything he had given up in hopes of this one goal succeeding crashed down on him in one fell swoop.

Envy smashed his fist against the wall next to the bed and the entire room shook. Bits of plaster rained down from the ceiling, but he didn't care. The roaring in his ears made it near impossible to concentrate on anything physically in front of him. Why the hell would he care about a dented wall if the single thing that grounded his existence to this miserable earth had waltzed out right under his nose?

The red began to dissipate from Envy's vision, allowing him to gain some bit of calm. He had no idea what to do and that logic applied to so many things. Every single foundation in his life was crumbling. Despite his mind's complete disarray, his eyes drifted to one thing laying on the nightstand under him.

A singular ribbon made of a satiny fabric. It may have once been black, but it had long since faded to a dark gray. The width of the ribbon was about two thumbs—enough to cover up a slashed wound.

Lark had left her ribbon here.

The realization shouldn't have disturbed Envy so greatly. After all, with that scar gone and her voice back, why would she need it? But his hand was drawn to it and he seemed to have no control over his body (or anything else in his damned life). The fabric was soft and cool to his touch, smooth when his fingers rubbed back and forth.

It looked so easy to leave something useless to her behind. Envy was not foolish enough to miss the symbolism of the ribbon, whether it was intentional or not.

(Perhaps she had left it for him as a reminder.)

(He was almost foolish enough to believe that.)

He found Dante in her private chamber, applying lipstick in front of her vanity. She barely acknowledged at him when he approached and capped the rouge with an audible click.

"What are you preparing for?" Envy drawled as she dragged a brush through her hair. "It's not like there's anyone to show off to down here."

Her eyes narrowed but she didn't respond to his remark. Annoyance swelled within Envy. He knew that her game was to make her words have as much as an impact as possible—to make every action mean something—and yet, it still had its effect on him.

Instead, he leaned against the wall and stared up at the ceiling as Dante continued primping. For a person literally rotting, she was much too vain with what she had left. She always picked the prettiest girls she could get her hands on when she switched bodies. The woman before Lyra had been beauteous enough to possibly compete with every incarnation of Lust, something that Dante had used to charm the richest man in town into marrying her. He'd died of mysterious circumstances a year later.

"Come out if you're done, Rose," Dante called to the shadow behind the partition Envy just then noticed. "I need to see how that dress fits you."

Obediently, Rose stepped out with her child cradled in her arms. Envy recognized the dress as Dante's, with its plunging neckline, tightened corset, and voluptuous skirt. Decades out of fashion but no one ever said that Dante cared for modern styles.

Dante frowned. "It's still a little loose. Really, you must fill out before I switch over."

Rose nodded blankly, her attention on her child's grasping hands. Envy only could stomach a few moments of that before he turned back to Dante. "What's with this game of dress up?"

This time, Dante answered. "We have a guest coming soon."

"Again?" Envy should've known who she was referring to, but his mind automatically jumped to Lark. "Who's gets to have the pleasure of your company?"

Dante ignored the sarcasm, choosing the dramatic route instead. "Prepare the ballroom. Nothing but the finest for Edward Elric."

The underground city frightened me almost as much as the thought of being caught.

It was hauntingly empty, the blankness of it stretching out beyond what I could clearly see. Not a sound could be heard anywhere save for my own breathing and footsteps. Dust was piled on every surface and rock crumbled. I might not have had Allie's love for architecture and design, but I knew that the buildings were centuries old. The electric streetlights illuminating the underground city were jarringly anachronistic. They had been added much later, I realized. I wondered if the electrician had ever gone back up.

I wracked my brain for anything in history that described an entire city disappearing. This was all an urban legend, something told by old men in bars seeking to find thrill in some young person's eyes. These legends were somewhat roots in truth, but I had never imagined to this scale. An entire city vanishing overnight hundreds of years ago. And unmentioned in any historical account...just how far back did Dante's influence reach?

I had been running east for more than an hour and my body screamed in protest. Up ahead, I saw a taller building that I could easily climb to the roof to get a better view of the city. Alchemy was not an option at this point, with Dante's apparent all-seeing eye when it came to that.

Tentatively, I pushed open the door. The wood was in surprisingly good condition for being there for centuries. Light was shining through the windows in the house and I could see the dust drifting in the air from my disturbance.

As I made my way upstairs, I half expected to see rotting carcasses of the residents. Impossible, I knew from the lack of the decaying smell, but the empty city sent shivers down my spine. It was just as unlikely that a human body could decay completely and disappear within a few centuries without any environmental elements. So, what had happened here?

Through a window on the third floor, I scrabbled onto the roof. Dust kicked up and parts of the roof crumbled underneath my feet, but overall it stayed as it was. I slowly made my way to the higher ledge, catharsis flooding through me as my balance stabilized.

A walkway was built around the city, slowly spiraling up to ground level. There were many slopes built for entry points to the walkway, but the main attraction seemed to be a grand theater. Not far from it was the mansion I had just escaped from. Up east ahead of me was one of the roads leading up to the walkway. Envy must've sent me this way to avoid drawing attention to a lone figure dashing around in plain sight.

I edged off the roof and back into the third floor to rifle through my bag. The compass had been located in a side pocket, so I hadn't yet had the chance to inspect what was inside. The bag wasn't too heavy on my back and it slid off with a slight thump.

I found a few changes of modern clothes, some bread and cheese, a canteen of water, a map of Amestris, a pocketknife, a bag of money, and a gun. The last item made me pause. It was small and compact, with maybe five bullets. All these seemed very Envy-esque, with his pessimism and simplicity. However, he hadn't packed me any cartridges, perhaps in hopes that I wouldn't have to use the gun at all. In my hands, I clicked the safety on and off while I got used to the heft of it. With a sigh and a swig of water, I packed the items back in, opting to tuck the gun into the back of my pants.

For once, I was glad that I had a sense for the Philosopher's Stone, as sick as it made me. It would be impossible for any of the homunculi to sneak up on me. It wouldn't place me on equal footing as them, but I needed all the advantages I could get. Still, I worried at the thought of being caught. Was anybody on my trail just yet? Or was Envy distracting Dante?

But Envy...Why was he doing this? What he possibly get out of this other than a sense of morality? From the looks of him, he'd been indecisive, but was I truly enough to sway him? Could I count on his connection (affection? friendship? interest?) and his hatred of Dante to overwhelm his need for revenge? Or had I unwrapped yet another layer of him?

Most of all, would I ever see him again?

(Did I want to see him again?)

As much as I hated to admit it, Envy had become a part of my normal life. I'd known him for three years, and yes, only infrequently. But his presence was one I looked forward to when I was in Percole. My time with the Elrics had cut off my contact with him and my discoveries had fostered bitterness against him. These past few weeks I had learned things about him and also enjoyed his company tirelessly. Still, I didn't know if I had forgiven him or not. He'd kidnapped me...yet he'd also set me free...

(In another world, in another lifetime, perhaps we could've been something else)

Get out of here and find Ed first, I thought. Envy can wait.

Three more breaks later, I was running across the main walkway. The feel of the ground was much more concrete, a new piece added after the city had sunken into the earth. Hopefully, it had been Dante who used her monstrous alchemic strength to build it, rather by manual labor of slaves.

From there on, my anxiety skyrocketed. I had previously been surrounded by buildings with multiple places to hide. Now, I was completely out in the open, running for the only apparent exit. It was a strategic design that could be a trap. I could only hope that Envy hadn't sent me out to only be captured again.

My mind began playing tricks on me. I swore that I could hear an eerie music playing faintly in the distance. There were yells and screams coming from elsewhere. I jolted around, searching for a source, only to find none. By the time I made it to the exit, I was covered in a cold sweat.

There seemed to be an endless amount of stairs within the darkness. I hovered along the wall, trying not to trip. The steps were frighteningly steep; just one missed step could lead me to my death.

It was only after a few turns that I found candles flickering on the walls. The fixtures on the walls were strangely ornate and I couldn't help but inspect them while I stopped to catch my breath. There were three holders for the candles, yet the first one I had come across was missing one. It had been broken off, I realized, when a person had been descending into the city. It wouldn't have been a homunculus, with their enchanted abilities, nor would it have been Dante, with her aversion to travel—Envy always brought me to her, not vice versa.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering who it could've been. My first thought was Ed and a sense of panic grabbed my heart. The prodigy that he was, it wouldn't have been surprising that he could figure this out. If that were possible, then he'd already be down there. What if he needed my help?

Then the rational part of me stepped in. There could be so many explanations for this—the candle could've just melted down, or they could've just run out of candles. If I had to, I could ask around town to see if Ed had been there.

My survivalist instinct pushed me up the stairs again, though at a much quicker rate. I stopped taking so many breaks and only stopped when my legs cried in protest. The stairs were torture to me, but they had to end sometime.

I found myself in perhaps the strangest place to exist underground—which was a lot to say after what I'd seen. It looked to be a ruined temple of sorts, eroded by vines and waterfalls. The lighting was almost like sunlight and bizarrely unknown to me. I wandered around in a daze through the fallen statues and creeping vines.

I was cutting across the water towards the exit of this other world when my spirit ripped from my body.

Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but the pain and otherness I felt was I describable. One moment I was walking, and then I was seeing red. It was the helplessness of a panic attack combined with the physical agony of a stab wound. At the same time, I was disconnected with my body and in one hundred different places. By the time I became coherent again, I was collapsed in the mud, nearly foaming at the mouth.

Something had happened down in the city, something related to the Philosopher's Stone.

My eyes focused and latched onto one thing—a footprint left in the sand. I knew that pattern of ridges. I'd seen it stamped by dust across dark carpets in military buildings, seen it swelling up a man's cheek after being kicked for using the wrong words, seen it propped up next to me on a train heading to the next adventure.

I nearly fell again in my haste to run back. But my intuition was piecing everything together in the most horrid fashion—Ed was here in the city and he was in trouble.

Surrounded by the glow of the transmutation encircling Alphonse, Envy half-expected a rush to go through him. Yet, he was almost disappointed his inability to feel.

He should have been happy, giddy, high. Edward had gone to join Hohenheim past the Gate, body and spirit split forever. Alphonse was to be sacrificed within Gluttony's stomach. He had accomplished nearly all of his goals and exacted his revenge. Everything he had worked for in these four hundred years had finally paid off.

So why did he feel so empty?

He thought about tearing Edward from limb to limb—his automail first, then his flesh—but the glee he had once been able to feel was gone. That burst of anger he'd felt earlier seemed to be the dregs of his emotion. What had driven him his entire existence had disappeared.

That prickling at the back of his neck was Dante's glare. He avoided it and she turned it to Gluttony.

"Eat him, Gluttony," she said loftily. "Make him the complete Stone inside of you."

Gluttony almost seemed to ignore her, wandering around with the manner of a lost puppy. "Lust...What happened to Lust? Lust!"

Envy watched the helplessness of Gluttony. Something soured inside of him. Was this what he was going to end up like? Would he become this pathetic just because of one person's disappearance?

"What's the matter with you?" He snapped. "Eat him, right now!"

Gluttony continued his aimless staring. With a child's voice, he babbled for Lust, his Lust, where is she? Dante crouched down in front of Gluttony and he walked into her embrace. Almost awkwardly, she patted his bald head. "I'm sorry, I know it was sudden."

But there was never a moment where Dante could be consolatory. Lightning-quick, her hand snapped up Gluttony's tongue from his giant maw, baring the Ouroborus. To Envy's astonishment, it began to glow.

"Gluttony?" He asked. A sickening sensation roiled in his stomach as Gluttony slumped over.

Hearing the sound of Envy's voice, Gluttony whipped his head to Envy with bared teeth and foaming spittle. Envy flinched.

"Be careful," Dante called. "Right now, he possesses nothing but his appetite. He was originally going to be the homunculus I used to refine red water. He doesn't need a mind."

Shit, I forgot about this. Envy watched numbly as Gluttony approached Alphonse. Rebellious homunculi were unreliable to Dante, so of course she'd found a way to deal with them. The first few experiments had simply blown out their brains until finally, she'd figured out how to erase their conscience. The recipient had been the second Lust, who had seduced a woman and actually fallen in love with her.

It had been nearly two centuries ago when such a relationship was kept quiet out of shame and fear of persecution. The girl was the daughter of a general who had a tendency to dissent. The relationship was meant as a way to blackmail him, but Lust had gotten in too deep. The girl was found murdered one day under mysterious circumstances after the general ruined an attempt at the Philosopher's Stone. Lust went on a rampage to avenge her and Dante would not stand for the insurrection. Lust was contained, experimented on so that her mind was no longer there.

(She only survived a few months. The late Greed, pitying her state, had ripped out her heart over and over until she turned to dust.)

How had he forgotten? Lust, of all people, was not meant to fall in love. He was Envy, made of seething resentment. He thought he'd learned that lesson before, but apparently homunculus was the synonym to cognitively impaired.

"Envy!"

He jolted at Dante's voice, only to spot Wrath rushing towards them. Envy easily intercepted. Wrath clawed at his arms, crying, "Mommy! Bring Mommy back!"

Dante reached for Rose's child. "You can't let him use alchemy."

"You idiot," Envy hissed at Wrath between gritted teeth. "What the hell are you doing back here? Didn't you learn your lesson?"

Wrath seemed to ignore him. "Please! Bring Mommy back!"

The air around them became excited and when Envy blinked, he was staring into the eyes adorning the Gate. He leapt away from Wrath, not taking his focus off of the Gate. Before he could react any further, the Gate cracked open and the arms of the Gate children snaked out.

Wrath shrieked as the arms tore at his skin. "No! Mommy! Help! Mommy! Glory!"

With a sickening spray of blood, his arm was ripped away, followed by his arm. Dante was saying something about how using alchemy would destroy their plan, but Envy could barely hear her over the howls of "No! Glory! Please! No!"

He watched the shadows retreat and the Gate slowly fade into space and time, leaving behind a whimpering Wrath. Dante sighed. "And here I let you live, because I thought you were still of use to me."

"Mommy, help," Wrath mewled. "Glory...Glory, where are you? It hurts. It hurts so much."

Glory Levington? That registered in the back of Envy's mind, but he stared at what was in front of him. What the hell?

He scrambled away, crying out. "The Gate...The Gate is still here!"

Before his eyes, a phoenix rising out of its ashes, Edward Elric pushed his way back into the world. Envy's body went cold as Edward fell on to the ground and the Gate disappeared.

"Al?" Edward breathed. He looked at his mannequin hand, a haunted expression appearing. "I'm back...So that's it: the other me over there died. I've used another life from the other side, haven't I?"

Envy didn't give a damn on what Edward was babbling about. His vision colored red and all that flashed through his mind was: Why is he back? Where is Hohenheim?

A burst of anger went through him. Yet, it wasn't red-hot magma flowing through his veins, controlling his every move. Morphine was coating his emotions and he felt almost nothing.

Envy realized that Dante had been staring at him, expecting him to do something. He knew what she wanted: Envy to lose control of everything, to destroy as he always had. He had never betrayed her, so why start acting his way now?

You're being irrational. After what happened to Lust, to Greed, to Gluttony, what's your excuse?

"Envy," Dante snarled quietly. "Take care of this interruption."

Edward became aware that he wasn't the only one in the room and clapped his hands together. Dante turned her sneer onto him, saying in a chiding voice: "Don't do that, Edward."

"You've got no right to order me around!"

Edward's indignant voice jolted Envy back into character, something familiar to hold onto. "Makes no difference to me, but there's no telling what will happen to your brother. You're free to try, though. We'll sit back and watch."

Envy's blasé tone seemed to make Edward hesitate. He made a motion to brandish his arm but then stopped. His eyes darted around and some invisible detail leaped at him, prompting him to demand, "Where's Lark?"

Envy very nearly started. Edward had not questioned them about Lark since he had arrived and Envy preferred it that way. His mouth went dry for a moment and he spat out, "How would I know?"

At the same time, Dante said, "She's safe and finally herself."

Envy turned to glare at her and she returned with a sweeping look that told him she had not missed the hesitation. She bore her eyes back on to Edward, who was predictably alarmed. "What does that mean?"

"She's not to be bothered," Dante replied. "Envy's taken care of her and she's alive for now."

Edward turned to Envy with alarm in his eyes. As his gaze slid over to Rose, Envy realized the ambiguity of Dante's words and what could be implied from them. With a sinking feeling, he saw Edward's face pale. Behind him, Alphonse gasped.

Before Envy could explain anything, Edward leapt at him with a renewed blood thirst. He clipped the side of Envy's face and pain flared up. Distractedly, Envy swept a leg under Edward to destabilize him but somehow Edward caught his ankle and yanked him to the ground. His head scrambled from the fall, Envy couldn't react when Edward held him to the ground and started punching.

It was harder to escape his grasp this time. Edward's anger seemed to increase his strength tenfold; Dante had done this on purpose. She'd seen Envy's reluctance to attack and she needed him spurred into action.

Red tinting his vision, Envy transformed body after body to loosen Edward's grasp. Sloth, Tim Marcoh, Maes Hughes, Roy Mustang. He could barely get a word in before Edward delivered another blow.

"Show me your real face!" Edward growled. "Is using other people's faces and taking advantage of others the only thing you can do?"

Envy spat out a mouthful of blood. "You want to see it that badly?"

He wasn't sure if he was glaring at Edward or Dante. He'd never forgotten his original face, though it had been centuries since he'd last seen it. When he'd worn it before, Dante refused to look at him for longer than what was necessary. She hated his face but Envy couldn't blame her.

"Show to me, if you can!"

His true face, huh? Perhaps he was a bit tired of hiding all the time. "I'll show you!"

Everything changed to gold: his skin, his hair, his eyes. He felt his jaw square; his body become stockier to fit the physique of a young man. It was ingrained inside the bones and the scraps of memory he held.

The golden boy, pride and joy of Van Hohenheim.

Edward's fist landed on the marble floor. Behind him, Dante's eyes widened and, for a moment, she looked human. She hadn't expected Envy to do this.

"What's the matter? You wanted to see what would happen, didn't you?" He was directing this at both Edward and Dante.

Edward didn't blink. "Father?"

Envy bared his teeth. "I was the first homunculus. I was supposed to be the son they lost, but it turns out I'm just a failure. So he abandoned me."

"'They'?" whispered Edward.

"She's right behind you."

Dante was shaking—with fury, with loss, who knew? Edward didn't dare to take his eyes off of Envy but the horrified expression said it all. His bloodied fist still lay on the marble, unmoving. Could Edward stand to still attack Envy, his half-brother?

"Envy," Dante's voice was the coldest it had ever been. "Kill him."

Edward and Envy's eyes met. Edward's eyes narrowed but Envy remained motionless. When he had revealed his past, the words he had been saying were merely facts. Facts with almost no emotion behind him. And without fury...

Envy had no reason to kill Edward Elric.

Envy lifted his head to directly look at Dante and said, "I'm not your damn puppet."

"What?"

"No, I'm not your weapon."

Edward's head swiveled back and forth. "What the hell is going on?" He lifted his hand again. "Whose side are you on?"

Dante interjected, completely ignoring Edward. "Are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten what I can do?"

"You can't use alchemy now," Envy said. For the first time, he had the upper hand. "There's no way to hurt me here."

Exhilaration swept through Envy. This was it, his moment of freedom. Dante had no pawns left in her sick game and could not drag him back to be tortured and brainwashed. There was no familial connection that pulled them together; only a common goal. Envy, just now realizing that, saw possibilities opening up around him. No matter what, he had nothing to lose.

Carpe diem. He thought deliriously.

Dante's eyes blazed and she opened her mouth to respond—only to be interrupted by Gluttony's excited grunt directed at the hall leading to the south wing. A figure that had been creeping along the passage jolted to a stop.

Envy squirmed under Edward's grip but Dante was moving at an impossible speed (for her) to grab the newcomer. The stranger avoided her by feinting and then running forward into the ballroom. Before they could get too far, their steps faltered and collapsed.

Too late, Envy shoved Edward away. Dante had caught ahold of the person's hair.

"Well, isn't this interesting?" She said. "How did Lark escape from her room?"

"You idiot! I-" Envy stopped himself belatedly.

Lark wasn't even listening. She had turned whiter than snow, probably just as cold. Her eyes were glazed over like a fevered child's. She didn't even fight against Dante's grip on her hair. What was happening?

"There's no way to hurt you here, huh?" Dante glanced behind Lark and smiled. She used her free hand to slip down Lark's back, dislodging something.

Blood roared in Envy's ears. That chance of freedom he had seen had disappeared along with Lark's. He'd wanted her to get out with minimal help. He could provide her with supplies, but that was all he could do. She wouldn't want it any different. Lark was perhaps the most resilient and forward thinking girl he'd ever met and for the first time, Envy cursed that.

Dante pressed the gun to Lark's temple. The safety clicked off. "You know your choices here, Envy. Choose the best one."

carpe diem: Latin for seize the day.

God save the children now. However, a reminder that I am the god of this universe and I've decided the torture has not ended yet. On another note, how funny would it be if I just stopped writing now? In this world, nothing is predictable and I intend on proving that.

I changed a few of Dante's reactions to maintain a semblance of consistency, something the FMA 2003 writers have seldom heard of. It'll be more plausible for motivations and actions in the future, I hope.

Of course, it's been wonderful to have you guys sticking with my lack of scheduling. Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews, as always! Nothing gets me more motivated than those, so please leave me more for next time!