Golden Scales Chapter 37
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.
o.O.0.O.o
It took a long while for me to gather myself again. I sighed as I watched the world walk by outside the small cracks of my crate. A lush, green forest. It reminded me of my time with the witches, and the forests we passed through. I curled into myself and wrapped my arms around my tail as best I could. This crate was even smaller than the one before.
Despite my pitifully crammed container, I was calm. Or more specifically, I was drained. Drained of energy, emotion, and care. I remembered feeling it all leave my body along with the animalistic rage. For the longest time I would suppress the memories of what happened down in that brig. I would force myself to pretend nothing happened. That I just magically appeared at the heart of the island, where the story would continue untampered. But no matter how hard I tried, I would never forget. The lies I told myself only made the images burn stronger behind my eyes.
It was as if the universe had marked me. As if I possessed a curse of my own. The burden of knowing just how wild I truly was. How in an instant I could snap and turn savage without an ounce of voluntary thought or action.
It made me question my resolve. How could I go about my quest if I couldn't even predict my own behavior? Was this merely a survival instinct, or was it something more?
At that point in my life, I'd only seen my wild state once. If I'd known how that particular defense mechanism worked, I may have been more accepting of it. But I didn't know. And fear of the unknown is one of most powerful feelings in the world.
I'm not proud of the thoughts that crossed my mind while Bradley's men carried me to the heart of the island. They were awful thoughts that had no place in anyone's head, much less that of a young siren's. But thankfully, they didn't stay long. Eventually, my fatigue wore on me. My mind drew itself blank and my body relaxed. I let the swaying of the crate lull me into a light nap.
And I was ever-so-thankful of the pleasant and reassuring dreams I had in those short few hours.
o.O.0.O.o
Unfortunately, those pleasant dreams had to end at some point. I woke to the lid of my crate cracking under pressure. The pressure of a crowbar prying it off. Once the lid came flying off, two hands quickly reached inside and grabbed me by the tail. Their iron grip practically choked my tail-ankle.
A yelp escaped me as the hands lifted me out of the crate and tossed me on the hard ground. My form rolled over and slid into a pathetic crumpled heap before I came to a stop. I growled and picked up my head to look around. The first thing I saw was blue. Lots and lots of blue.
The ground I laid on was decorated with tiny, blue mosaic tiles. Some patches were covered in moss and dirt, but the ring around the in-ground pool at the center sparkled clear and clean. I raised my angry gaze to find dozens upon dozens of soldiers standing in a circle around the tiles. They were armed with harpoon guns, however, most of them looked understandably terrified.
Good, I thought bitterly to myself.
Soon enough I turned my attention to the man who approached me: Fuhrer Bradley, or Wrath. Whichever you prefer.
The monster smirked. "Now. Let's get started, shall we?"
As if taking a cue, one of the soldiers stepped forward and paced over to me. He knelt next to me, then pulled what looked like a metal bracelet out of his pocket and opened it. Carefully, he shot a glance to meet my gaze, as if begging me not to hurt him. Then, like lightning, he closed the bracelet over my tail-ankle and drew his hands away. He stood again and nearly tripped over himself in his haste to return to his position on the crowd.
I stared at the bracelet, and then back up to Bradley.
Answering my mental question, he explained, "That is a tracking device, Fullmetal. If you stray from the path, I'll know. And I'll have your little mechanic friend murdered. Understand?"
I hissed at my old military name. But the anger beneath my scales didn't boil nearly as hot as when the bastard finished talking. And just like that I could feel it coming again. My hair, dry as ever, began writhing on its own accord. My vision turned red. My heart began to race. The muscle in my chest poised itself for use. My body thrummed with adrenalin.
I was about to snap.
Somehow, the fear of doing so kept the switch at bay. But my anger did not subside. My demonic, double-toned voice oozed with loathing and hatred when I growled,
"I told you to leave her out of this."
In this state, I did not notice my surroundings. But after I'd spoken, half the soldiers present dropped their guns. Bradley did not move, of course.
After a moment, my symptoms finally ebbed away. When I was no longer teetering on the edge of a snap, my body noticeably relaxed and the soldiers picked up their guns again. Bradley unfroze and scowled.
"Do as you're instructed and I won't have to resort to that."
I returned an equally malicious scowl and an exasperated snort shot out of my nostrils. The monster then began walking towards me. With the pool directly behind me, I realized that he intended to push me into the water to send me on my way. I braced myself to take a merciless hit, but it never came.
When I opened my eyes again and looked up, I saw a man standing behind Bradley, holding a sword to his throat.
o.O.0.O.o
Laughter. Cold, toneless laughter echoed through the clearing.
Bradley laughed, seemingly unconcerned of the fact that a blade rested against his jugular. The man who stood behind him paid his attitude to no mind, and pressed the blade further into the monster's neck.
The guy had mousey brown hair, green eyes, and fair skin. Merchants' attire clung to his medium build, which told me that he hailed from either Creta or Aerugo. One would figure a man of his obvious profession wouldn't think twice about standing up to a monster like Bradley; especially not in such a severe manner. Though he wasn't the most intimidating guy in the world, he looked plenty pissed.
The man said nothing as Bradley's laughs died in his throat.
"And what do I owe the pleasure… traitor?"
The man did not react other than a minuscule shift in weight. His green eyes remained narrowed in concentration on his opponent, and no excessive anger clouded his gaze.
Again, the man said nothing.
But when Bradley moved to stand, he sank the blade deeper in one quick jerk of the arm, piercing the vein. Not blood, but clear fluid poured from the wound. Bradley's trained expression broke away and scrunched into one of intense pain. The circle of soldiers around us drew their guns and trained them on the merchant.
Now, I knew practically nothing about the homunculi at the time. All I really knew was that they've been around forever, so I figured they must be hard to kill. I didn't know that this meant they could heal themselves with a little help from their Philosopher's Stones. I didn't know that in the event of a physical injury, red lightning would appear around the wound to mend the damage. And I still wouldn't know this until a few minutes later.
Right then, Bradly's wound did not heal as it should have. No red lightning appeared to mend it, and I tilted my head, confused as to why blood was not oozing from the cut. I drew in a quiet gasp when green smoke rolled off the merchant's blade like fog and formed the shape of a Xingese dragon.
The merchant took a step backwards, as if startled by this, but he did not remove the blade from Bradley's neck. Just when I thought the situation couldn't get any tenser, the man yanked the sword away, reeled his arm back, and ran it through Bradley's chest.
The soldiers opened fire.
o.O.0.O.o
In that moment, several things happened all at once. My slimy hand slipped out from under me, sending me face-planting into the tiles. Bradley's wounded form fell to the ground in a useless heap, ribbons of green light circling around his soon-to-be carcass. Most of the soldiers' harpoons found their target and sank into the merchant's torso. A canon on the other side of the island fired a projectile into the sea, which had nothing to do with the events taking place at the heart of the island.
When I hauled myself up again and raised my gaze, my eyes widened in horror as I took in the kneeling figure of the merchant. Both of his hands were wrapped around the handle of his sword, which he'd stabbed into the dirt. His head lowered, I had a clear view of his back, and the many harpoons sticking straight out of it, like a porcupine. Bewildering me further, red lightning crackled across his form. The harpoons seemed to pull themselves out of the man's flesh. They fell to the ground and the wounds closed over.
The soldiers then dropped their guns and ran for the hills.
I turned my gaze to the one-eyed bastard. He lay frozen on the tiles, real blood pooling beneath him. That same red lightning I saw on the merchant crackled at his own wounds, but it was obviously weak and getting weaker. Eventually, the lightning stopped. The green ribbons of light dissipated into the air, and the monster's skin paled in death.
This left me alone with the merchant. My stomach still churning, I swallowed. But before I could say anything, the man (or whatever he was) rose and unearthed his sword. He began to make his way over to me, and for a terrifying second I thought he intended to kill me as he did Bradley. But my worries were relieved when he sheathed the sword and stuck his hands in his pockets in a mock-casual manner.
"W-Who are you?" I finally mustered.
Ignoring my question, the man muttered to himself, "I can't believe that actually worked…"
It was now that I noticed his shaking legs, his unsteady posture, and the exhaustion in his expression. His body quaked as he lowered himself into a sitting position a few feet away from me. Here he took a few shaky deep breaths in an effort to calm himself, assumedly.
"Who are you?" I repeated patiently.
The man jumped and looked up at me, as if noticing my presence for the first time. He blinked.
"William," he answered, "My name is William."
His rough voice varied in tone, as if he were almost unsure of his words. But then his expression cleared. He nodded to himself and rose to his feet.
"You have to leave. Beth is waiting for you in Shea City."
I straightened, surprised to hear that name again. "Beth? Why? Is she in trouble?"
The man- no, William looked down at me with a half-glare. "No. You're in trouble. We need to take you somewhere safe. Somewhere Father won't find you."
Now it was my turn to blink. "We…?"
Again, he ignored my question. He closed the distance between us and scooped me into his arms. Alarmed, I pulled the muscle in my chest, sending a shock-wave through both of us. Yet he seemed unphased as he started walking.
"We don't have much time. You need to find Beth and go with her."
Then William broke into a light jog, heading back the way the soldiers brought me.
Hours passed as I sorted my thoughts and settled into the idea of being lugged around by yet another almost-stranger. He didn't seem to want to hurt me, and he knew Beth. I supposed that this was good enough for me. And so I relaxed into his grip and impatiently awaited our arrival to… wherever he was taking me.
Wherever he was taking me turned out to be the northern shore of the island. I knew north because of the westward setting sun. A setting sun which bleached the sky in an impressively bright array of colors. William stopped, not to marvel at the sky, but to drop me into the sand.
I hit the ground with an "oomph" and angrily wheeled around to face him. He cut off my rant when he said,
"Swim due north from here and you should reach Shea city in about seven days. If you want to see your 'mechanic' again I suggest you listen. We can't defeat Father without you."
William looked me right in the eye and spoke in an earnest tone. I could tell just from his voice that my arrival in Shea city was crucial to his plan. Half of me wanted to obey, but the other half suspected him. Bradley called him "traitor," and that same red lighting tried to heal him. I'd connected some dots on the way to the shore and concluded that he was the same species as Bradley: a homunculus.
"Uh-huh…" I answered emotionlessly.
A scowl scrunched William's face. "Listen, siren, we've worked our asses off to keep you safe thus far! You may not have noticed it, but we've been following you this whole time. Greed sent you on your way to Resembool! Martel gave you the map and saved your sorry ass when you were pinned to the bottom of the river! Beth told you the witches were safe and gave you relief! I followed you here and killed Wrath! It's about damn time you've paid us back!"
Suddenly my thoughts were sent into a jumbled frenzy. But I wasn't given the opportunity to sort them.
"Meet Beth in Shea city in seven days' time." William commanded.
Then he stepped forward, grabbed me by the tail, and tossed me into the sea.