Welcome back to The Water Alchemist. I don't own any of the intellectual property of Fullmetal Alchemist.
Chapter Fifty-One
A Matter Of Trust
"Ah, that felt good," Ed sighed, twisting his wrist, the creaking metal grating as it moved.
He glanced at me, giving me a sly grin, which I couldn't help but return. I did try to take on a meaningful look after, something along the lines of saying you got it out of your system, but now we've got work to do, but it was hard to keep an even visage seeing that dopey, beautiful grin of his. I'd been deprived of his smiling face for so long; letting him hit his father just once to see it again was worth it. Equivalent exchange, right?
"You could've at least warned me you were about to slug me! And with your metal hand, too," Hohenheim whined, nursing his cheek. He groaned, moving to stand, dusting his pants, gazing up at us. As he approached, that feeling in the pit of my stomach intensified, going from a dull awareness of its presence to a prominent throb. I tried to ignore it as he addressed us. "I see you've made a new group of friends." Darius looked around a moment.
"We're not—"
"It's more like we're all in the same sinking ship," Heinkel corrected, finding the words Darius lacked.
"That's right," Greedling said, jerking his thumb at his chest. "And I guess you could say I'm the captain of that ship."
"So, you're the one in charge? Then I'd like to thank you for looking after my son," Hohenheim said with the slightest of bows. Greedling grinned, obviously pleased by the small show of gratitude. Any semblance of power he had over others made him nearly giddy.
"Sure, but you know he can be a real pain in the ass," Greedling said, jerking his chin to Ed, who flared.
"Hey!" Ed yelled, disgruntled. I tapped my hand over his shoulder consolingly, and he crossed his arms in a huff, quietly fuming as Hohenheim's eyes tracked over me.
"Good to see you again too, young lady," he said, quite warmly, and I nodded, managing a smile despite my surprise. Considering how I'd spoken to him the last we met, I didn't think he'd be so cordial. "Still a spitfire?" I froze, my blood running cold at the irony of it all. The man always seemed to see right through me. I shook my head slightly and noted Ed's glare, directed at his father.
"A lot has happened since we last met," Ed grumbled, and Hohenheim seemed to understand not to press his son further on the topic, unavoidable as it was. He instead took note of Greedling's hand.
"That's an interesting tattoo," he remarked.
"Yeah, you noticed. Guess there's no point in hiding it," Greedling said, straightening, resting his hand over his hip, appraising Hohenheim. "But let's make this honesty thing mutual, pops."
"Look, we need to talk. The Promised Day is tomorrow," Ed said, and I took an uneven breath. I knew how little time we had – it was hard to not think about it – but hearing it aloud was enough to put me on edge, to put everyone on guard.
"Fair enough. I'll tell you everything," Hohenheim promised. And he kept his word. We gathered at the small fire pit he occupied, exchanging information well into the night. While Ed and Greedling explained my condition and our intelligence, I partly listened and partly worked at further decoding my father's notes. But as soon as it was Hohenheim's turn to speak, I couldn't focus. I could only listen to his tale, the fate of his people, the man he'd become. It was difficult to digest, and the information settled uncomfortably within me. Some of it refreshed what I'd remembered, and some of it was wholly news to me. Heinkel and Darius looked quite disturbed by what Hohenheim had to say, and Greedling was tense beside me, a bead of sweat forming at his brow, though his face was stony. Ed took it hardest as his father finished, curling in on himself, letting out a distressed sound as he gripped a fistful of hair in his hand, pulling at the root. I wanted to reach for him, my hand moving on its own, but I caught Hoheinheim's eye as I did, and I retracted, not sure how Ed would feel about his father knowing about us. I instead folded my hands over my father's work. It was all I could do to keep from reaching out to Ed, my heart aching for him. Hohenheim stared into the fire, the reflection of orange and yellow hues dancing off his glasses. "I was worried this might be more difficult for you to accept than it was for Alphonse."
"Wait, you told Al about this?" Ed asked, his voice wrought as he looked up at his father.
"I did. I'm sure he has his own thoughts on the matter, but he accepted it, nonetheless," Hohenheim assured us. Ed's mouth hung open, his jaw slack. Hohenheim placed his hand to his chest, looking to Ed in earnest. "If you want to use me to get your bodies back, you can." I stiffened at the offer— one I had made once when I was naïve and unaware of the implications of what I'd promised. Ed rose suddenly from the log.
"Are you crazy?" he exclaimed, his arms swinging wildly in protest. "Maybe you are a living Philosopher's Stone, but I'm not gonna sacrifice innocent souls. It's our fault we lost our bodies!"
"I'm proud my son feels that way," Hohenheim said, a relieved look crossing his face. I looked up at Ed. He still looked angry Hohenheim would even suggest such a thing, but it showed Ed's true character and how much he'd changed since I'd offered him the same out. A small smile tugged at my lips, something like pride swelling in my chest. "There will be a solar eclipse tomorrow. He plans on harnessing it for his scheme."
"An eclipse? So, that's his plan?" Ed asked.
"Listen, Edward. He has to be stopped at all costs. I need you to help me," Hohenheim asked, the sincerity in his voice palpable. Ed scoffed.
"Help you? Now look here, I'm gonna stop that bearded bastard, but I'm not doing it because you want me to help you! Our best chance of beating this guy is to team up, and that's the only reason I'm even talking to you right now!" Ed exclaimed, his fiery passion surely broadcasted to the whole slum.
He moved to storm off, and soon, our companions followed him. I looked to Hohenheim, a little torn after hearing his story. I didn't quite understand it, but I was a little jealous of Ed. To have a father, even an absent one, was more than I could say for myself. It was incredibly silly and entirely childish, but I envied that he had the opportunity to confront his father, to understand him. Even if, in the end, he still felt resentment and anger toward him. I could only imagine what kind of closure that brought Ed, and I was glad of that. It just stung a tiny bit that I would never truly have... perspective. What I wanted was perspective.
"That's fine with me," I heard Hohenheim whisper as I readied myself to stand. "It doesn't matter what your reasons are as long as you'll still fight alongside me." It took everything in me not to pity him, not wanting to betray Ed's entirely valid feelings of his father. But it gave me just a semblance of hope that I'd misjudged the man, even if just a little. It gave me hope that Ed could have something unspoken he and I both knew he wanted all along.
"Marina?" Ed asked, pausing in his retreat, and I stood, nodding once to Hohenheim before I hurried to Ed's side. He gave me a weak smile, grasping my hand, holding it a moment. I gave him a questioning look, looking slightly behind me to Hohenheim, but Ed shrugged it off, and I smiled, warmth flooding my chest, painted across my cheeks. At least he didn't seem embarrassed by me. We began walking again, but Ed paused as if remembering something. He didn't look at Hohenheim when he spoke, but his sentiment was directed to his father. "Granny asked me to give you mom's final words. 'Sorry I couldn't keep my promise, but I'm dying first.' So, there I told you—"
Ed went rigid as he turned, his grasp on my hand tightening. I looked at him worriedly before following his gaze, noticing tears streaming down Hohenheim's face. Ed was stunned, and I, too, was surprised to see his father like that. It was jarring to see someone I had believed to be mysterious and enigmatic cry like that. Ed pulled my hand, and we left Hohenheim with those final words.
We ambled through the slum, Ed's stomach guiding him, but I wasn't so hungry, and I instead made my way to a vacant table, setting up a station to pick up from where I left off in my decoding. The grainy wood of the bench splintered into the back of my thighs as I shifted, thinking a change in position would somehow make the words make sense. Out of curiosity and bad habit, I flipped to the back of the book to determine how much I had left to decipher. I was nearing the end, and the closer I came to decoding it all, the closer I came to the truth. It didn't stop me from cursing my father for being so good at coding his life-altering work, though. Didn't he know I would need this eventually? And that I'd be in a bit of a time crunch? It was really quite rude of him. I brought my left knee to my chest, resting my head over it as I turned the page, my other hand twirling my pen, quickly running out of ink from all my notations.
If I could just finish the damn notes, I thought to myself, scanning over words, some losing their meaning as I did. I grumbled to myself, re-reading the lines. I didn't have much time left at all; I had to focus. But it was nearly impossible as doubt clouded my head. Had he actually finished his theories? What if he didn't? How was I supposed to? Was all this work for nothing? I had to believe it wasn't. For everyone's sake, I had to make sure it wasn't. I felt something brush my shoulder, and I jolted, nearly knocking the small container of something delicious smelling from Ed's hand. He jumped back in surprise, just barely balancing the container.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya," he said with a strained laugh. His face was drawn up, his eyes dull. He cast his gaze downward, and I could tell what his father had told him weighed on him, no matter how tough he tried to act about it. I tried giving him a sympathetic smile as he swung his leg over the bench, settling there. He placed the container on the table in front of me and motioned to it. "Still not hungry?"
He wiggled his eyebrow at me, and I sighed with a half-smile, taking the container. I swallowed hard, my mouth watering as I took in the meatballs dressed in a sweet-smelling glaze. I wondered, briefly, if I'd be able to stomach it, but the thought flitted away the second it hit my tongue. I felt my shoulders relax, and I melted as I chewed the tender meat.
So good, I thought to myself, taking another bite. For a slum, they sure knew how to cook. It reminded me of Granny and Ivey's cooking— perfectly seasoned, melt-in-your-mouth, too damn good to not finish. I chewed considerably slower, my eyes trailing over the words still left on the pages before me. Ed laid his hand over my thigh, leaning forward.
"Hey, you alright?" he asked. I sucked in a deep breath and swallowed.
Thank you, I mouthed, pointedly sidestepping his question. I moved to take another bite, and Ed watched me carefully, leaning his elbow on the table. He looked around a moment, and I followed his gaze, wondering where the others were. I had left them together, after all.
"I had to get away from them. They wouldn't stop hounding me about Hohenheim," he said, noticing my wandering eye, running a fatigued hand through his hair. I tilted my head at him, though he avoided my gaze, his face set grumpily. I grasped his shoulder gently, and he turned as I squeezed reassuringly. He closed his eyes tightly, his face scrunching as he tried to soothe the knot between his brows. "It's just… he's not what I was expecting. He… I don't know, Marina, it's all wrong. I want to be mad at him. It was easier that way— when I could just hate some guy who barely existed." I nodded slowly, knowing exactly what he meant.
I know, I mouthed, more to myself. It was easy to deal with a figment in your head. It was another thing entirely to be faced with the reality of your imaginings.
"Sorry, I know it's probably difficult for you to listen about this kind of thing," Ed began, but I put a halt to his nonsense, placing my hand over his mouth with a stern frown. Even if I still couldn't discern what I felt about my father, that didn't mean I couldn't sympathize with Ed's experience. It didn't mean I couldn't listen, couldn't be there for him.
It's okay, I mouthed. I placed my other palm to my chest before placing it to his. I care for you. I wasn't exactly sure if he was good at reading lips, but I felt a puff of air against my palm as his hand wrapped around my wrist, lowering it from his mouth.
"Alright, I hear ya. Loud and clear. Thanks," Ed chuckled, his hand still around my wrist, and he looked down, examining my palm. His thumb traced over the scar there, his brows knotting, and I clasped my hand around his, hoping to distract him from the graze. He took a breath, looking about the table, anxious to change subjects. His eyes fell over the notebook. "How's the decoding coming?" I took a breath, moving from his grasp as I pulled the notebook to me, my hand tracing over the fresh ink, smudging it just slightly. My jaw set tightly as I turned the page. We were still in the dark.
Still unfinished, I thought, my stomach churning. I felt like I was rushing a deadline for school— unsure about the quality of my work, my understanding of the material. But this wasn't some research paper on ancient civilizations and their political systems. It was the difference between if we won or lost. So many things could go wrong, each one more problematic than the last, but none of them fell so squarely on my shoulders as this did. I hadn't realized the spike in my heart rate or the unevenness of my breathing, but Ed seemed to, his touch grounding me.
"Hey, Marina, look at me," Ed said softly, his hand caressing my cheek. His touch was warm and soft as he turned my head, and his gaze had a determined intensity to it. "I believe in you. I know it's a lot of pressure, but you can do this. There's no one I'd trust more with a task like this. I'm sorry I can't help much, with all the stars coordinates and all, but I'll help however I can." A smile crept up on my face, and for a moment, I was reminded of my mom's words.
You won't be alone. Your friends, they're fighting too, right?
I nodded, affirming their faith in me. Having him by my side was encouraging enough. I hurriedly ate the remaining meatballs, except for one that Ed stole, and he watched over my shoulder as I decoded. After a while, Ed stretched with a yawn and stood.
"Will you be alright for a bit? There's something I wanted to get before we head out," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. I yawned myself, blinking away my own weariness. It was apparent none of us would be sleeping, not when the Promised Day was mere hours from breaking. There was still plenty to do. I didn't think any of our nerves would let us even if we tried. I nodded, and he patted my head, ruffling my hair a bit. I made a surprised sound, and he grinned, backtracking into the night. "Be right back! Keep at it!" I chuckled to myself, following his instructions, turning to the book, finishing the decoding. But what I found was less than favorable.
February 13, 2005
I must close the portal between worlds. The thought came to me in a dream, and I believe it to be a premonition. I've begun researching a way to close the portal between our worlds and make it so it may never be re-opened.
Close the portal between our worlds? I thought, paling. Was something like that even possible? Was that why I had two gates when Ed and Al had only ever described having one? Or was what he was talking about different? He'd called it a portal, after all. Did that mean anyone could pass through? His words led me to believe that the portal may have been previously closed. Had that meant he'd been the one to open it? And if he did, how would he manage a way to permanently close it?
May 20, 2005
The adoption papers are finalized. My research is coming along, but not fast enough. The dreams have grown worse, I fear. Black, shadowy hands, grasping for me, pulling me back to the void. Pulling me back to hell. Marina said something troubling to me this morning. She saw them too.
I shivered at the thought but pressed on.
October 17th, 2005
The time has come for me to close the portal between this world and the next. I believe if I do so, using this transmutation, it will be closed for good.
Yeah, well, hate to tell you, but I think I kinda proved that wrong, I thought dimly.
Father cannot succeed. His plan to obtain God and rule each planet cannot come to pass.
Woah, wait, each planet? As in multiple? I wondered bleakly. So that's Father's plan? But how's he going to do that? I needed more information, but I'd reached the last phrase my father had left for me.
If I fail, I've entrusted the stars to Marina, and maybe one day, she may utilize their significance to understand.
I went still, swallowing hard as I noticed the small, interconnected lines that made the shape of a star at the end of a sentence, sufficing for a period. Polaris. My heart thrummed in my throat. My father had given me a tall, tall order. That overconfident bastard. What if I hadn't been able to understand? Then what?
I glanced back down, noting the odd transmutation circle he'd drawn. As I looked at it longer, I realized it shared many similarities to the key; the means of which were linked to the original opening of the portal. My brow furrowed a moment, and I rummaged through my bag, pulling out my notebook. I placed the recreation I had made of the key on the table beside the rough transmutation my father drew. My eyes widened a moment as a realization swept over me. It looked as if the strange transmutation circle was meant to be the inverse of the original. The inverse of the key. Each symbol had been flipped in his less detailed version, and I realized what he probably had; what better way to close the portal than to reverse the way you opened it? But he hadn't closed it, at least, not permanently.
I examined the transmutation circles for a moment, a stark realization overtaking me. It may have been its antithesis, but opposites rarely completely canceled one another. War and peace. Love and hate. Right and wrong. Yin and Yang. There was only ever a struggle to maintain balance, to create equilibrium. There was always one that would emerge as the dominant force, but not enough to erase the existence of the other. Which meant the exact opposite of the original transmutation wouldn't be enough to erase its existence. I began writing and drawing furiously, wracking my brain, trying to diagram and translate my thoughts onto paper. I heard footsteps approach, and I looked up from my work, expecting Ed, but my eyes widened as Hohenheim appeared in the dim of the street vendor's stall lights.
"Ah, Miss Marina. I was hoping to find you. Would you mind if I joined you?" he asked, his tone polite but with an underlying tenseness to it. Truthfully, I didn't want to be alone with what I'd discovered, so having some company – even his – was better than nothing. I motioned to the opposite bench, gathering up my scrawled notes. His mouth quirked up briefly in acknowledgment before he sat across the table. "I was hoping I could take a look at your father's work?"
Mustang sat himself down on that familiar rickety bar stool, taking a good look around. The dim light shone and reflected off the bottles behind the counter, a dog barking somewhere beyond the brick. He could still smell the cheap perfume and the sting of liquor in the air. It was strange— seeing a usually vibrant and lively place vacant. He imagined it looked this way each morning when closing time drew near and it was lights out. But now, it seemed eerily quiet, like it knew the fate that awaited it. Like it knew closing time was a permanent occasion on such a night. The ice in his glass shifted. The older woman across the bar, dressed in lavish furs, her raven hair slicked into a ponytail, turned to him. She gave him that stoic look she had always given him, even when he was just a boy snooping around. He couldn't help but think his boy-hood prying had been more than helpful in his career, and she'd been the one to foster it, exchanging gossip for a bit of entertainment. Only now, his prying could be a matter of life or death. Madam Christmas placed a folder on the bar top, sliding it to him. He took it up carefully as she spoke.
"I'm afraid your hunch was right on the money. He may look like a cute little brat, but Selim Bradley's not human," she said, taking out a cigarette. Mustang emptied the folder, shuffling the pictures over the table, combing through photos of Selim Bradley.
"How old are these photos? Twenty years? This one is over fifty years old," Mustang said lowly, his hands just a touch unsteady. He'd had his suspicions, and he believed wholly in his lieutenant— but it didn't ease his mind. Knowing what they were up against was an advantage in and of itself, but it didn't change the fact that defeating a Homunculus was a difficult task, even for him. "And he's with a government official in every one of these." Madam Christmas lit the end of the cigarette and took a deep inhale before blowing smoke into the already thin air.
"I decided to check into the Fuhrer's supposed hometown as well. They've got plenty of records showing that he was born and raised there, but I couldn't find a single resident who's even seen the Bradley family," she said, and he stilled. "Their mansion is just a hollow façade, and, of course, there aren't any relatives. Did some digging into those missing alchemists, too." She shuffled below the bar, placing down a second folder. Mustang dumped it out, blinking a moment.
"There's so many," Mustang breathed, shuffling through the thick stack of pictures. He'd heard rumblings around town the last few months of some missing alchemists but none of rank or title. The word on the street blamed Scar, but Mustang knew something was off. If it had been Scar, it would have made the paper. But none of their faces, none of their stories made headlines. Some weren't even older than him. Some had families. Some had civilian jobs, regular lives, no ties to the military. But they all had one thing in common— they'd applied before at least once to become State Alchemists. He gripped down on the picture of a young man, one whom he recognized. He'd overseen his exam. He showed promise but failed to impress the Fuhrer. He'd normally think it a good thing, but considering the circumstances, Mustang couldn't find the silver lining in this situation. "Did you find out what happened to them?" Madam Christmas sighed, resting her bejeweled hand over her waist.
"I'm afraid not. There's a good chance they were taken by the military. I was able to talk to one family," she said with a shake of her head. "Poor girl looked terrified to even talk to me. Said he was serving his country, paying off his debts— and slammed the door on me." Mustang's frown deepened.
"Serving his country, huh?" Mustang spat. With so many gone, he could only speculate what purpose they served. Fodder for Philosophers Stones? Were they like the Elrics and Marina? Sacrifices? He placed the stack down with a sigh. It made his blood boil, not knowing. "I appreciate this, Madam Christmas. It couldn't have been easy to get this intel."
"Yeah, although as soon as I found out Selim Bradley wasn't human, well, my exhaustion didn't seem to matter anymore. I gotta wonder— how hasn't any of this gotten out before?"
"Because he has a father named King, who happens to be the most powerful man in the country. They can hide anything they want. Fabricate anything," Mustang said, his eyes narrowing. Just as they'd fabricated Hughes's death. Just as they likely paid off innocent citizens to keep their mouths shut. He clenched his fist over the bar. He would get to the bottom of this, and after that, he'd usurp the damn Homunculus that ruled the country with an iron fist. He looked up at Madam Christmas, placing the photos away. "Well, you ready to blow this place?"
I sat awkwardly on the bench, the questioning gaze of Hohenheim to keep me company. I looked up, gripping down on the fabric of the slacks Winry lent me, my eyes carefully picking out the constellations I could recognize. The slum was dimly lit, a few dingy streetlamps lining the main streets giving the outskirts a soft yellow glow. It made the stars easily accessible, and connecting the balls of fire and gas light-years from where we sat was all I could do to keep from worrying about how Hohenheim would react to my idea. He was essentially the messiah of Alkahestry, the equivalent to a Philosopher's Stone, and an alchemist seasoned by the sands of time. I was just some novice alchemist with an affinity for the stars. He sat quietly, flipping through my father's notes with all my musings along with it.
"Your father was an exceptionally talented man. I see you take after him," he said flippantly, and I swallowed hard. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and he made a humming sound, looking up briefly. "Ah, touchy subject, I suppose."
You have no idea, I thought.
"Well, I can't say much for myself. You saw how Ed feels about me, though I don't blame him," he said, a bit breathily. He had a pensive look on his face, and though he looked at the words on the page, his eyes showed no sign of movement. He spoke quietly, almost to himself. "He needed a father. They both did. I failed them." I frowned slightly before reaching out for my pen and paper.
You're here now, I wrote, and he looked at it surprised. I quickly added. Can't change the past, but you have the future.
"Heh, well, I suppose you're right, young lady," he said, a bit soberly. He smiled at me, the corners of his eyes creasing behind his glasses with the sincerity of the expression. "I think your father would be very proud."
Thank you, I mouthed blushingly, casting my gaze to my hands folded in my lap. I couldn't imagine what it would feel like— my father's pride. I wondered if it would feel warm, like when my mom said it, or wrong, misplaced somehow. I wondered how it felt for Ed to hear his dad tell him he was proud of him after all these years, all that pent-up resentment.
"So, am I correct to deduce that you and my son are involved?" he asked, not even looking up at the book, and I felt my heart quicken, my eyes going wide, a blush climbing up my neck, burning my ears until I could practically feel the pressure of steam release from them.
Involved? I thought rigidly to myself, pressing my hands to my face, groaning. Was it really that obvious? He was more perceptive than I realized. He chuckled a moment, having his answer in my reaction.
"Sorry if that was too forward. Social graces have never been my strong suit. But I know my son won't talk to me about such matters, so I figure I might as well ask you while he's away," he shrugged slightly, looking to me expectantly. "Do you love him?" I swallowed hard, dropping my hands from my face, but there was no point in hiding it. I gripped the edges of the bench, the wood grainy and course against my palm, and nodded. An awkward silence fell between us.
He won't approve, I thought to myself the longer we sat in silence, my heart the only sound as it pounded in my ears. A part of me prepared to be lectured. I had insulted him the last time we met; I couldn't imagine he'd approve of our being together. The thought churned in my head like a pesky hamster on a wheel, over and over. I shouldn't care though, right?
"I can tell," he said finally, and I jolted, raising a questioning brow at him. "It's the way you look at him. It was there, if not just a spark when we met in Resembool, but it's unmistakable now. Your fondness for him."
How I look at him, huh? I thought to myself, letting out a somewhat relieved breath I had absently held. His eyes shone just briefly, and I worried if he'd begin to cry again, but he smiled.
"If it's any consolation, he looks at you the way I looked at my wife, Trisha," he said the name fondly, folding his hands. "It seems he feels the same way for you, young lady."
My heart fluttered at the thought. My hands began to tingle just a bit, but the sentiment soothed any worries I had at the start of our conversation, feeling a swell of vindication. It was nice to get an outsider's input now and then. It just reminded me of my own fondness for Ed, a fondness I hoped he felt as strongly for me as I did for him. I liked how we were now, exchanging small kindness, finding solace in one another— but to take that comfort and call it love, I realized, would only be calling a spade a spade. I reached for the pen and paper again.
Marina, I wrote, hoping he'd understand he needn't be so formal with me.
"Of course, Marina," he said with a smile. "If I'm not overstepping my bounds here, may I say I'm glad that my son has found someone he cherishes like I cherished Trisha. He can be a bit stubborn and abrasive, but please, don't let that deter you. Deep down, he really is a good kid."
I know, I mouthed, a smile gracing my face. Ed's father's encouragement meant more to me than I thought it would, despite their rocky relationship. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses, looking back to my father's work.
"As for this, I'm impressed with the effort you've put forth to translate and decipher it. I am dismayed at what you've found, though," he said, and I nodded in agreement. He pushed it across the table, settling the open book between us. "But your idea has promise. Would it be alright if I offered my assistance?" I inhaled sharply, and I nodded enthusiastically. I could hear footsteps approaching and looked up to Ed and the others.
"Marina, it's time we head out," Ed called, a roll of familiar red fabric folded over his arm. He was frowning, looking between Hohenheim and me.
"Edward," Hohenheim acknowledged. "Leaving so soon?"
"I don't know if you have realized this or not, but the sun's up in a few hours. We don't have time to spare," Ed said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"I've just agreed to help your friend with her father's work," Hohenheim explained, holding up the notebook.
"You finished?" Ed asked excitedly, leaning forward, the question directed to me. I nodded, suppressing an indulgent smile, and his eyes widened a moment. Ed furrowed his brow, his gaze turning to Hohenheim. "And you understand it?"
"Yes, and I believe we can finish what he started," he said.
"That's good, isn't it?" Greedling asked, emerging from the shadows. He swung his arm around Ed's shoulders, and Ed grumbled under the weight. "We need to know more about whatever the little lady's daddy was up to, right? And more importantly, how to stop my pops from using it." I bristled at the word 'daddy'— finding it especially strange as an honorific, even stranger coming from Greedling. It felt gross. Ed seemed to catch my discomfort, forcibly removing Greedling's arm from his shoulders.
"If it would be alright with Miss Marina, I propose that you all go ahead while we finish up," Hohenheim offered, and Ed visibly went rigid at the suggestion. I felt suddenly placed in the middle as Ed's eyes fell on me, worrying if I took on Hohenheim's offer, I'd be betraying Ed's feelings. His fist clenched at his side, but he sighed, his eyes relenting.
"Yeah, alright," Ed agreed, much to everyone's surprise, especially mine. I gazed up at him, wondering if it were really alright.
"I do worry that it will be difficult on the young lady," Hohenheim mused to himself, a pensive hand on his chin. "It may be better if she goes on ahead after all." I deflated a little, dropping my gaze.
"She can handle this," Ed affirmed, and I gazed up at him, his jaw set. My chest swelled, and I forgot what breathing was a moment as his golden eyes shone intensely in the light of the fire. "Don't go underestimating her. She's done this much, hasn't she?" He looked over at me, and a fond smile spread across my face without my realizing it.
"Well, good to see my son's found someone he can trust," Hohenheim remarked, and a small smirk appeared on his face, looking between us. I felt a blush creep up on my face, noticing Ed had taken on a pinkish hue as well, clearing his throat. Was Hohenheim just messing with us?
"Yeah, just don't pull anything while I'm gone. And Marina, the second you think he is, you book it and find me," Ed grumbled, arms folded over his chest. Greedling huffed a laugh, and I suppressed a giggle. Hohenheim looked quite demoralized.
"Have a bit more faith in your old man, Edward," Hohenheim whined, and Ed scoffed, striding up to me.
"Fat chance," he spat, glancing briefly at his father before pulling me up from the bench. He led me over to a dark alley, his hand grasping mine, strong and steady. I could feel his pulse racing in my palm as we came to a stop. He rested his hands against my cheeks, the cool of his automail tempering the warmth of my blush, and he closed the distance between us, placing a sweet kiss on my lips. I was grateful he took us away from the crowd— grateful I could indulge in him without interruption, if even for a moment. And I was certainly grateful he hadn't kissed me in front of his father, though he had seemed to make his own deductions regarding our relationship. Ed pulled away, and I found myself lost in his gaze before he pulled me into an embrace. "I'll see you soon. I believe in you. Be safe." I nodded into him.
I believe in you, too, I thought, tracing his jaw with my fingers as we pulled away, and he placed a quick peck to my forehead. We returned to where we'd left our companions, and soon after, they were off, leaving Hohenheim and I to it.
Hohenheim and I worked surprisingly well together, and in about an hour, we had a brand new transmutation circle. I checked and double-checked, and triple-checked my calculations, forcing him to check it a fourth time. He huffed a laugh.
"Young lady— Marina, I know you're trying to be precautious, but I believe this will do," he said, looking drained of energy. I gave him a sheepish look, glancing down at the circle. When I looked back up at him, there was a serious look on his face.
What? I questioned with a look, and his gaze settled down at our work.
"I must be candid with you. That day, in Resembool, I noticed the stone lying dormant within you. I wasn't aware of its significance until a little later. But picking up some new intel and reading your father's work has confirmed my fears."
What's wrong? I mouthed, disliking the tone he was taking. It was far too formal. Too stiff. He pinched between his brows, letting out a disgruntled sigh.
"I believe his plan involves you in opening this portal," he said, and I stilled. The air was eerily quiet. I couldn't even hear the occasional call from the birds or the croaking of the frogs.
How? I mouthed. They'd called me a sacrifice before, that was nothing new, but there was a disquieting look in his eye that suggested something more sinister. He stood, ambling to my side of the bench, motioning for me to stand. I complied, though confusedly, and he gestured to my shoulder.
"May I?" he asked, and I nodded a bit hesitantly. His hand rested over my shoulder, and I jolted from the contact, that same spark of electricity shooting through me, congregating at my very core. I cried out, and he was quick to pull away, and I slumped over the table, bracing on my arm, breathing heavily. The shock was much stronger than it had been the last time we'd shaken hands. I looked up to him, and he frowned, gazing into his palm. "Marina, are you aware that you still harbor the key within you?"
Within me? I wondered, blinking slowly at him. I had used the circle to cross, but— the lines traced on my skin. The stone absorbed into my chest. I figured it was a one-time deal, a fluke reaction. Hohenheim continued.
"Alchemists around the country have recently gone missing, following the time it was presumed you and Edward had disappeared. They've done well to cover up, but based on my intel, the key your father mentions— I believe the Homunculi were trying to imprint it into other alchemists. From what I can tell, they themselves cannot open the portal. His efforts thus far have been in vain, but you— you've hosted the transmutation without issue. You've crossed between worlds. And I believe the Homunculi will attempt to utilize you to open the portal to your world," he said, and my heart sank.
No, I breathed, a whistling sound escaping me instead. That couldn't happen. If it did, if he managed to activate it through me, everything I cared about would be lost.
"Please, don't worry. We'll stop them before they get the chance," he said. His words were meant to be assuring, but all I had in me was doubt, and apparently, the key. My eyes caught the transmutation circle we'd configured. I scribbled something down, letting him read. He frowned. "I don't think that would be necessary—" I shook my head, writing.
Can you do it? I emphasized, staring him down. I didn't care if it hurt. I didn't care if there were a chance it'd be an unnecessary precaution. I wasn't going to let fate toy with little impossibilities this time around.
"You're intent on this," he said, and I nodded firmly. He sighed. "My son won't like it, but— I can do it. But I can't guarantee what may happen to you. Are you alright with that?"
I nodded. This was how I could fight. This was something I could do.
"Are you alright?" Hohenheim asked, hovering.
Other than the residual sting, I felt perfectly fine. I nodded, and we made our way through the slum, with our work finished, ready to play catch up. We passed the logs and fire we had previously occupied, and I trotted over, holding my father's notes over the fire, a feeling of déjà vu surging in me. I had torn out the entry he'd mentioned my birth in and had left it with Elias, along with the photo of my mother. I wanted them to be safe. There was a moment of hesitance.
He entrusted this information to me, and me alone, I reasoned, letting the book fall into the fire. Just then, the lights in the slum around us surged, and the fire crackled as darkness descended over the settlement. I looked around for Hohenheim, my eyes adjusting as the townspeople scuttled around.
"What happened?"
"It's a blackout," a man called.
"Who shut off the lights?" another shouted. Worry swelled in my chest until Hohenheim's voice sounded beside me.
"Well, I suppose we should check on our companions," he said, his voice a bit strained.
I nodded, and we made our way to the woods they had entered, our intentions to follow them, but the further into the forest we got, the lower my stomach dropped. I swore I heard fighting a little ways off as we filtered through the brush, passing a stream, my heart racing in my chest. Just as I was about to tug on Hohenheim's sleeve, there was a rustling in the clearing before us. I squinted to see what it was, instinctively taking a defensive stance, barely making out two large figures heading toward us.
"Hey, Marina, is that you?" a familiar voice called, grunting. I lifted from my crouch at Darius's voice, hearing the scraping of metal against dirt follow him. He came more clearly into view, and my heart stopped, seeing Al dragged behind him, unmoving.
Al? I called, my voice still grainy, allowing only for a squeak of sound to pass through my lips. Hohenheim and I pushed forward, meeting them.
"What happened?" Hohenheim demanded, immediately removing Al's helmet, handing it swiftly to Darius, and I held my breath as he inspected his blood seal. I exhaled when we realized it was undamaged.
"He was captured by the Homunculi. Some shadowy one called Pride took control of his body," Darius explained.
I looked up at him, horrified, a chill running down my spine. Pride was the Homunculi I was most afraid of. He reminded me far too much of my encounters with Truth. I crouched beside Al and took his upturned hand in mine, squeezing gently. If there were ever a time he'd feel something, anything, I wanted it to be now. Hohenheim looked off in the direction I was sure I heard conflict from now, worry blooming in my chest.
"Wake up! Alphonse!" Hohenheim grit his teeth, shaking his son by the shoulders. He called and called for him, and Al didn't respond for a long while.
"What? Dad?" Al said eventually, his voice timid as he finally snapped to.
"Hey," Hohenheim sighed with a wave, a relieved smile on his face. Al moved his hand, and I with it, and the resistance must have drawn his attention as he turned to me.
"Marina?" he asked, a bit of excitement in his voice. He grasped my shoulders, startling me as he leaned in. "I thought you were missing! I'm so glad you're alright!"
Me too, I thought with a grin, glad he was awake and livelier than ever. He pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, and I laughed, patting the point of his armor. He never failed to radiate warmth even through the cold exterior he sported. He pulled away, his giddy laughter dying off, but he still held my shoulders.
"You okay?" he asked, and I opened my mouth to close it again, averting my gaze. "Marina?" His armor clinked as Hohenheim pat his shoulder.
"She can't talk, I'm afraid, Alphonse," he explained, and Al dropped my shoulders. I curled in on myself, grasping my arms over my chest tightly.
"Why? What happened?" he asked, his voice marginally quieter, looking between Hohenheim and me for answers.
"I'm afraid the explanation may have to wait, Alphonse," his father said diplomatically, standing, holding out a hand for Al to take.
He took it, his body still facing me, and even without his helmet, I could tell he was trying to gauge me for answers. Answers I wanted to give him. But from the sound of things, we didn't have that kind of time. Darius handed Al his helmet as I stood, and something seemed to occur to Al.
"So, uh… wait, I thought you were in— is this Kanema?" he asked.
"That it is," Hohenheim affirmed.
"But I was in the East, so how did I… that's right! Pride! Dad, the Homunculus Pride, he took control of my body!"
"I know. Mr. Gorius told me all about."
"It's Darius," he sighed, and I pat his shoulder, recoiling a little at how hairy it was.
"It was… it was like he was manipulating my soul. I feel violated," Al said, crossing his arms.
"The Homunculi are basically your relatives. They're like second-generation clones of me," Hohenheim explained. He grasped his chin in thought. "So, they might be able to interfere with your seal since we share the same blood." There was a sudden rustling in the bush again, and I stiffened, preparing to go on the offensive, but Darius grasped down on my shoulder, halting me. I looked to him questioningly a moment before looking out at the rustling bushes, a very beat-up Heinkel slouched over an old man I remembered well.
"Old man Fu?" Al said, albeit confusedly. They stopped before us, and Fu looked around at our group.
"Can you clean and dress this man's wounds?" he asked, setting Heinkel down.
I hurried over as Heinkel leaned back, grasping his arm. Darius took Fu's place, holding his friend up while I examined his injuries. The worst of the damage had been to his left arm, and it seemed on his side as well, and I hurriedly threw down my backpack, preparing the necessary tools. I pulled out gauze and my knife, as well as some cloth and my canteen.
"How's everything going over there?" Hohenheim asked behind me.
I listened to their conversation as I tended to Heinkel. I rolled up his sleeve, exposing the worst of the wounds, and untwisted the cap of my canteen, placing it down. I clapped my hands, pulling water from the canteen, and carefully flushed the wound out. He hissed as the water contacted his skin, but after the initial jolt, he steeled himself, staying as still as a statue.
"I'm guessing you must be Edward's father," Fu deduced. I wrung the blood particles out of the water, removing the iron and any impurities I could feel out before running it through the wound at his side, repeating the process. I wrung the water out again as I finished, replacing it within the canteen, twisting it closed.
"That's correct," Hohenheim said.
I clapped my hands again, still a little numb from the previous transmutation, noticing the wound on his upper shoulder and side weren't as superficial as the rest, already starting to ooze blood again. I touched my hands to the outside of his wound, blue sparks flying around us, focusing on closing the fibers of skin and nerve. Heinkel looked at me with surprise, to which I just smirked. My alkahestry lesson from Mei Chang may have been rushed, but it served its purpose well enough. I finished, grabbing up the gauze and my knife. I began wrapping, cutting the gauze as I went. I was lucky Ed had hung onto my old bag and subsequently my precious knife, which was proving to be quite helpful.
"That shadow monster devoured the fat Homunculus whole, and he's overpowering us. Greed and Edward are doing everything they can, but I don't know how long they can last," Fu said, and my hands stopped a moment as I turned to them. "The fires have given him all the light he could wish for, and I'm out of flash bombs. We need a new plan, and fast."
"And not just for us," Darius chimed in, and I turned back to them, finishing the wrappings. "The slum dwellers are gonna be headed straight for Pride any minute now."
I frowned, tying off the sling I'd configured from a torn cloth, the scent of burning wood catching my nose. After helping Heinkel stand, it was easy to see the fires blazing over the horizon, like a hundred suns all trying to rise at once. Al stared out over it, the orange of the flames catching over his armor in faint flicks of light. He turned determinedly to Hohenheim.
"Hey, dad, you're a pretty brilliant alchemist, right?"
"I guess. I know a thing or two," Hohenheim said humbly.
"I got an idea, but I'm gonna need your help to pull it off," Al said, and Hohenheim tilted his head in listening. "I want you to trap me with Pride."
"What?" Darius shouted, and if I could, I would have too. Hohenheim furrowed his brow but didn't interrupt his son.
"I can sneak up on Pride, and when I do, you can encase him in a ball of earth. He can't run away if I'm there to grab him, and he won't be able to use his powers in the darkness," Al explained, and my heart sank, thinking of Al stuck in a dirt-dome with a monster like Pride. My brief encounters with him were always fraught and left me on edge. I couldn't imagine being trapped with him. I didn't want to. There was a moment of strained silence. "Please. This is all my fault. I can do this." Hohenheim sighed, removing his hand from his pocket, scratching his cheek.
"Well, I can do it," he said, and Al let out a happy gasp.
"Thank you, dad!" Al cried, hugging Hohenheim. He looked a little surprised at the sudden contact but hugged his son back nonetheless, looking like he was relishing the moment. "Oh, and don't tell brother until you've done it. He won't like this idea, but it's the only way." Al added, and Hohenheim agreed. I couldn't help the weary smile that I wore, though I was troubled still by the growing threat that was the fires. Hohenheim hummed before turning to me.
"Marina, I noticed you did something with your alchemy earlier. There was a stream we passed— near the tree line. Do you think you could work on putting those out?" Hohenheim asked, tilting his head toward the ever-growing light. I nodded, realizing he meant my water alchemy, kicking myself for not thinking of it sooner. I hurriedly gathered up my bag, and Darius took it from me, agreeing to hang on to it until I returned. I nodded in thanks, hooking my knife to my thigh. Hohenheim turned to Fu. "The fires are quite close to our foe. Would you mind escorting the young lady?"
"Of course," he said, bowing slightly. "Please, hurry."
Ed sputtered and coughed, having had his ass thoroughly handed to him by that stupid shadow brat. They were out of flash bombs, and the light from the growing fires only made him stronger, and Ed could tell. He was exhausted, and Greedling didn't seem to be in any better shape, just a few feet away, banged and scraped up just as bad as he was. Ed panted a few breaths as the two exchanged snide words, wiping his cheek of the blood and sweat gathered there. They needed a plan and fast. They couldn't go on much longer.
"So, you've chosen to show yourself, ay, Hohenheim?" Pride called out, the name ringing in his ears as he watched the bastard cross onto the battlefield. Why the hell was he here? Where was Marina? He was supposed to be watching out for her. Better yet, could he take Pride down? That would solve a few problems, actually, he thought briefly to himself.
"The hero always waits until the last second to make his move," he asserted smugly, and Ed couldn't help but cringe.
"Hero? Interesting. You must think you can defeat me," Pride called.
"No, I'd never think that," he said, and Ed rubbed the bridge of his nose frustratedly. So much for that, he thought indignantly. "I'm not dumb enough to try and fight you."
Hohenheim just stood there a decent distance away, and Ed watched him with bated breath, trying to figure out what he was planning. He noticed Pride receded most of his shadows toward himself, preparing for whatever Hohenheim could dish out. The moment Hohenheim took a step forward, clanking rung out in the clearing, and Ed realized that Al was the source of the sound. He ran at Pride's back at full speed, letting out a battle cry as he held his arm out, looking to grab Pride. But Pride – without even turning – captured him swiftly with his shadows, subduing him. Ed clamored to stand, running toward Hohenheim.
"Are you joking? This was your pathetic plan?" Pride asked incredulously as Al struggled against the shadows. "You should have run when you had the chance!" Al's helmet clamored from his head defeatedly.
"Al, no!" Ed cried, lunging forward, thwarted by Hohenheim's extended hand. He looked up at the man, ready to chew him out, but there was a harsh look on his face that stopped Ed in his tracks.
"It seems as though your son enjoys being held hostage. It's either that or he's supremely stupid," Pride snarked, jerking his thumb toward Al, and Ed nearly jumped in, but Hohenheim spoke for him, lowering his arm.
"That's crossing a line, Pride. Don't ever mock my son," he said, his demeanor shifting.
Ed had never seen Hohenheim in action, so watching the red energy spark in an instant at his feet and grow far beyond him left Ed speechless. He watched in unwitting awe as the red scorched the ground in scarlet, and the earth shifted beneath them. Hohenheim just stood there, collected as ever amid the chaos he caused, his hands in his pockets. He hadn't even needed to use his hands to transmute, it just happened. He carved massive triangles into the ground, and they came thundering to life, rising to converge around Pride. Pride looked around at the dirt walls closing slowly around him, momentarily releasing Al from his bonds. Al took advantage of his unguarded body and lunged forward, holding Pride in place. Pride's eyes met Ed's a moment, desperate and searching for a way out. He looked away just as quickly, and Ed thought he noticed something strange cross Pride's face as he sent out his tendrils of darkness through the slits in between the triangles, what Ed assumed to be a last-ditch effort to free himself. He tried desperately to escape the slivers of earth, but he screamed out Hohenheim's name in vain.
"Hohenheim!" he cried, the walls closed in around him. The tendril sent out at them seemed to be the only left of his outburst, just barely stopping at Hohenheim's chin before halting, the stone finished converging. The tendril turned to dust. Ed looked to Hohenheim, realizing Al was still in there, his awe forgotten.
"What the hell are you doing? Al is trapped in there with that monster! How could you do something like that!" Ed cried, rage spilling from him.
"It wasn't my idea. Al was the one who suggested this," Hohenheim said curtly, turning to Ed. "It would have been nearly impossible to defeat Pride, and it was only a matter of time before the fight spread to the slums. Since we knew we couldn't defeat him, I acted as a decoy, and we imprisoned him. We bought ourselves enough time to figure out how to destroy him." Ed grit his teeth, his clenched fists trembling.
"Well, you could have at least told me what you—"
"Your brother told me not to. He said that you'd be against it, okay?" Hohenheim said, and Ed exhaled weakly. "Al came up with this plan because it was the only way to make sure everyone would survive. Try to understand. Now, let's help Marina in putting these fires out."
Hohenheim turned to address the fires, passing Ed, but Ed couldn't move. He was stuck to his spot. He could rationalize his father's actions, but he still had trouble wrapping his head around them being on the same side. It was hard to look past the caricature in his mind to see the real thing be so... different.
"Mr. Hohenheim!" Fu cried, drawing their attention. They both turned to him, and Hohenheim furrowed his brow.
"Mr. Fu, what's wrong? Is there not enough water at the stream?" Hohenheim asked. Fu stopped before him, shaking his head furiously.
"No, I'm afraid it's not good. It's Miss Marina," he said, his gaze locked beyond them. Ed tensed as he pointed to the dome. "She's in there."
"What?"
Mr. Fu kept an eye on the blazing trees as I prepped myself for the largest transmutation I had ever performed. I took a deep breath, clapping my hands together before touching them to the cool water in the stream. I stood slowly, the water forming into a gradually building bubble as I did. Holding my arms above my head, I gathered the water in the stream until it was a large enough mass to douse the fire among the trees. I cut it off, and the stream fluctuated, splashing back and forth before settling, and the mass of water above me swayed. I took a step back, my arms shaking under the weight.
"Alright, they're occupied," Fu assured, waving me forward to the edge of the tree line. We had to meander into the open, the trees that were aflame difficult to reach from within the woods.
Alright, easy now, I thought to myself, concentrating on maintaining the transmutation. I made my way to him, slowly counting the seconds in my head. It'd already been three minutes. There wasn't much time before I would lose the transmutation and would have to start over. I reached the tree line, entering the clearing made by Pride, the heat of the flames fierce in my face. It was funny; the last time I attempted a transmutation like this, flames had been involved then, too. I glanced over to see Hohenheim emerge from the middle of the fires while we focused on the left side, halting its spread. Ed was there too, and I was glad to see him alright, but he looked in bad shape, as did Greedling. I could only hope that Al and Hohenheim's plan would work, and we could all get out of here and do what we had set out to do. Five minutes. I maneuvered the water over a burning tree, a vat of steam rising from the singed oak, drowning out all sound. My hands were pulsing, my eyes stung, and my breath came in hurried huffs, trying to minimize the inhalation of the smoke, and I managed to douse another row of trees before I heard Fu calling out for me.
"Miss, watch out!" he cried, and I turned my head to him confusedly.
I felt a twinge run up my spine, and I turned toward the feeling, noticing the shadow of Pride's power rush toward me. I slammed the water transmutation in front of me, freezing it into a thick block of ice. I panted, my vision spotting before I booked it into the woods, into the raging flames. I heard shattering ice, flames licking at my heels, and Fu grunting as he was sent flying across the forest.
No! I tried to call out to him, but I couldn't as I pivoted to check on him. I was halted by shadowy bindings that wrapped me up and dragged me into the open and – I realized very briefly – into the rapidly closing dome of dirt Hohenheim was constructing. I reached out a hand at the crack I'd been dragged into, only to watch the light disappear, and I was plunged into darkness. I slammed into the dirt, skidding across the ground before hitting the other end of the dome, catching my shoulder on something. My head swam, and I let myself lie there a while, feeling something warm and sticky ooze beneath me.
"You fell for it!" Al's voice rang out, echoey in my ears, a chuckle in his cadence. "You can't use your powers in this darkness." I attempted to sit up, sucking in a sharp breath as I realized my shoulder was still caught on something. I reached out to feel around it, identifying a tree root that must have been dug up with the transmutation, realizing bleakly that it had plunged into my shoulder.
"I don't see why you're laughing. You're trapped inside this thing, too," Pride said, his voice a little more stable above the ringing in my head. "As soon as you try to make an opening to leave, I'll slice you into little pieces."
I grabbed ahold of the root with my viable hand and managed to pull it out of my shoulder, a gross squishing sound nearly sending me into further blankness, but the pain kept me aware, and I let out a gurgled cry as I dropped the root, panting heavily as more blood oozed down my arm. I grasped at the gash, applying pressure as I sat up, trying to ascertain where everyone was inside the dome. It was so pitch black I couldn't even see a few feet in front of me.
"I don't remember saying anything about leaving. Let's have a little test of endurance, Selim. Oh, sorry, would you prefer to be called Pride? You see, Pride, my body doesn't need oxygen or light or food," Al crooned, and I heard the clanking of metal as he moved about. I managed to stand, limping toward the sound of his voice, the familiarity of his movements. "I'm perfectly comfortable right here until the Promised Day is over, and I'm going to make sure that you stay put, no matter what."
"Well, you may not need those things, but what about her?" Pride snickered.
"What?" Al asked, and I pivoted, grateful for the sound, as horrified as he'd said it. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm surprised you hadn't noticed," Pride chuckled. I reached my hand out, relying on the creaking of Al's armor as he shifted. "Though it is dark enough, and you were quite occupied when I pulled her in. She's been quiet, too. Maybe she's dead."
"No," Al breathed. Just then, my hand finally rested against the cool familiarity of his armor, and I tapped him lightly, alerting him of my presence. He gasped, his hand clasping desperately around my arm. I winced. "Marina?"
"Oh, there she is," Pride nearly laughed, taunting us. I narrowed my eyes at the slightly darker spot of black where his voice resonated from. "Is that blood I smell?" Al's armor clanked as he turned to me, worry evident in his voice.
"Blood?" he asked, gently releasing me.
"Must've been quite the gash, considering how strong the smell is. How long do you think you could go untreated? Well, little alchemist?" I frowned, anger bubbling in my chest. He was so sure he could use me for his own gain.
"Damnit!" Al cursed quietly, banging his fist to the ground. "This is all my fault, Marina, we have to open—"
I knocked on his armor, stopping him from doing anything too rash. It was a good plan, trapping Pride. It was the best option we had against him until we could buy some time to figure out his weakness. Heinkel had a hard enough time facing off against him. We couldn't risk him wreaking havoc over the slum or the people we cared about for a stupid cut. I knew that. While I hated the idea of being stuck in this dome with him, I wasn't alone. Al was there with me. I couldn't let my fear outweigh the lives of everyone on the other side. I clapped my hands together, blue sparks flying momentarily. I watched Pride's face drop in the faint residual light as I pressed my hand to my arm, closing the wound enough to stop the bleeding. Pride grit his teeth and seemed to rear back for an attack, his shadows appearing just briefly before I finished, and the light was gone, along with any threat he posed.
"Heh, how bothersome," Pride breathed out, and I heard a thump, assuming he'd seated himself. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're human. You'll need to be released at some point. And when you do, I'll strike."
"Al!" Ed cried, banging against the exterior of the dome feverishly.
"Brother!" Al called back, his voice muffled by the dome's thick wall. He heard hurried clanking and soft footsteps following. Footsteps he hoped that, for one reason or another, belonged to Pride.
"Hey, Al!"
"Sorry, brother!" Al called, his voice pitcher than usual. "Not much of a reunion, huh? This is all my fault, and Marina, she—"
"I know, Al. I need you guys to stand back, okay?" Ed called, ready to clap his hands. Something banged rapidly against Al's metal, echoing even outside the dome, halting Ed.
"Marina, you have to get out—"
Al was cut off by more banging. Hurried, upset banging.
"I know your arm is okay," Al said gently.
"Her arm?" Ed asked, but he was drowned out by another bang on Al's armor. There came a quiet after, and Ed waited anxiously. His nerves got the better of him. "Al?"
"Do you not want brother to open the dome?" Al asked quietly, and Ed's chest tightened.
"Marina, you can't expect me to let you stay in there!" Ed called, his balled fist to the earth. She banged on his chest plate some more, and Al cried out.
"Okay, okay! No more banging!" he exclaimed. "How about, one knock for 'yes', two for 'no'. Okay?"
One knock. Ed's lips pursed into a tight line.
"Marina, I'm going to open the dome," Ed announced, clapping his hands.
Two rapid knocks.
"Why not?" Ed called, exasperated.
"Brother, only 'yes' or 'no' questions, please," Al reminded. Ed sighed, banging his forehead against the dome frustratedly. "Marina, are you trying to say you want to stay in here?" The question shouldn't have been asked. Ed frowned as a knock echoed without a follow.
"Look, I know Al's idea was good, but it didn't account for you," Ed tried to reason. He just got her back. He just got them both back after so long. "You won't last more than a day in there."
A single knock. Yes. Yes? Ed's eyes widened, and he looked up at the dome, a realization washing over him. The knock wasn't just a yes— it was an affirmation. I know.
"No!" Ed yelled, clapping his hands anyway. Something caught his shoulder, and he turned angrily to Hohenheim. "This is all your fault, old man! Now, look what—"
"Didn't you tell me not to underestimate her?" he said, and Ed went rigid, dropping his hands. Hoheinheims face softened, just a touch. "I understand you're worried about them. But a day won't kill her. She trusts that we only need a day to figure out a safer solution. She trusts you, Edward. Isn't that right, Marina?"
One knock sent Ed stumbling backward. He didn't like it. Of course, he didn't. But she made a good point. They were all plenty hydrated, and she'd eaten. Given the height and width of the dome, there was probably enough air for two people for two days. She trusted him to get them out before then. She trusted him.
"Marina," Ed called his palm flush to the dirt in front of him. He grit his teeth, steeling himself. "Are you sure about this?" One solid knock and Ed exhaled a rueful laugh.
"I promise it'll be okay, brother. I'll look after her. It's only one day," Al tried to reassure him.
"Thanks, Al," he said softly, his nails digging into the dirt. "I promise, I'll figure out a way to get you guys out. So just hang in there. Okay?" Al affirmed the request, and Marina knocked on Al's armor in understanding.
"Ed," Hohenheim called, having given Ed some space, and Ed turned to his voice.
He motioned for Ed to follow, and he did, though reluctantly. They finished dousing the fires Marina had left behind, and Ed took notice of the block of ice, rapidly melting and sliced in half by the looks of it. He'd find a way to get them both out. He'd find a way to make Pride pay. Once they finished, their party reconvened, and Scar and Marcoh showed up, ready to strategize. They laid the groundwork of their counterattack, and soon, the brink of day shone over the horizon. Ed walked back up to the dome, where Darius had explained Marina's muteness to Al through the wall, the frog Chimera accompanying him. Ed noticed a flash of red on the ground and stooped to pick up the coat he'd dropped during his bought with Pride. He shook it out, the dome illuminated from the sun beginning its ascent behind it.
"Your younger brother and Marina sure got some serious guts," the frog Chimera commented.
"Trapped in total darkness with that monster? I think that I'd lose my mind if I were in their place," Darius nodded.
"Yeah. They're doing everything possible to keep us safe," Ed said tightly, his coat free of dust and debris. He looked fixedly to the dome, then to the brightening horizon. The Promised Day was here. "The rest of it is up to us."
One thing I'll never forgive is this story requiring me to be smart. I can't begin to explain how many hours of listless sitting and thinking I did to come up with some of this shit. My brain is so smooth now. So smooth. This should explain my tardiness, so my apologies for that. Though, I think I'll make Thursdays the new official upload day, as that seems to be when I manage to get everything done and polished. I had a blast writing the chapter, nonetheless. It just took way more energy than I was expecting it to. But the notes are deciphered, there is a little cute moment between Marina and Hohenheim, and her and Ed, and now she's stuck in a dome as the Promised Day dawns. I'm excited to finally get into this final arc, though I'm also dreading it because that means this year and some change-long project is ending. But I think it'll still be rewarding all the same. I just wanted to say thank you again to everybody who has followed or favorited, everyone who reviewed, and to the silent people who read this story. Seeing the numbers is always such a mind-boggling thing to me, and I'm grateful for each one of you who has given my story a chance. I couldn't be more grateful! I hope you all have a good week and 4th of July if you celebrate, and I will see you next week!