PART I: THE ROYAL FAMILY
1. Saint Edward the Vicarious
Alphonse stared out the window of the train. It was something he found himself doing far too often, watching the trees go by, taking in the scenery of whatever place the train was passing through … it was mesmerizing enough to make him fall asleep, which he did, a lot. His wife had always pestered him about falling asleep on the couch during the day; Edward was certain that Al's body was making up for the sleep he lost while bonded to the suit of armor that had been his one-man prison for years. Al didn't care. He loved the afternoon nap as a concept, and he wished it were more well-respected.
Of course, neither his wife nor his brother could criticize him now. His wife had passed several years prior, not that it didn't sting his heart just as much now as it had the day after. But Edward … Edward had been a part of his life since its beginning, the other half of the duo that adventured around Amestris and its neighboring nations, battling evil and discovering alchemical secrets … and he was gone. And as much as Al knew from his years upon years of experience that there was no way anyone, ever, could resurrect the dead, not even with a Philosopher's Stone, he still wished in the back of his heart that he could just speak with his brother one more time, just to see his face and exchange a few good-natured jabs at each other.
"Great Uncle Al?"
Al turned away from the window. Having been lost in the past for a moment there, he had almost forgotten what year it was. It was 1976, and he had two new generations of Edward's family to support him and carry on Ed's legacy. "Yes, Mira?" he asked Ed's granddaughter.
"Wouldn't it have been faster to fly to Darius? They have an airport in Lampton. It's pretty big."
"Well, Mira, you know I don't like airplanes. They always give me motion sickness."
"Would it hurt too much to take a couple of pills and drink a couple glasses of wine and pass out during takeoff?" asked Xander. Xander was Mira's twin brother, though she'd never let him forget that he was the younger of the two, by a few minutes. They were twins in age only; though they both took a lot from each side of their family, Mira was much more like her mother, while Xander definitely took a couple of pages from Ed's book himself.
"I mean, I could, but at that point it would be better to just take a train. I've heard that taking pills with alcohol is bad for your long-term health."
"You're 75," said Mira.
"Yes, and I'd like to make it to 76 if possible."
Xander chuckled under his breath. Al sighed. After all, they were still teenagers. "Kids," he said, "you really have no idea what I've been through. The things I've seen … they change the way you look at life. They've made me want to be sure never to hurt anyone again unless absolutely necessary, and they've made me feel lucky to have the family I have today. So I want to make sure I have time to spend with you. That's one of the reasons I was happy that you wanted to come along on this trip … though I wish your parents were here too."
"Well, you know them," said Xander. "Dad's always doing his office job, and Mom perpetually has things to do around the house."
"Plus," Mira chimed in, "they always have us around to take care of. So they're both probably really happy to have us out of the house for a while, so they can have some time to themselves …"
"Mira! Eww!"
"What? I wasn't talking about that, you dummy. I just meant that they'd probably enjoy being able to go out without finding a babysitter."
"They shouldn't even call them 'babysitters' anyway. I mean, we're seventeen years old! We're not babies."
"It's just a word, Xander, don't get your pants in a bunch about it."
Al could have stopped the bickering, but he just watched and smiled. These were Ed's grandkids, all right.
After some time, the train stopped. They were nowhere near the station; they were, however, crossing the border between Creta and Darius. Several officials boarded the train and began asking to see passports. Their uniforms indicated their home country, Darius, and their job, customs enforcement. One of the officials, a rather lanky man with a brown mustache, approached the seats where Alphonse and the children sat. "Passports, please," he said.
"We were told that those wouldn't be necessary," said Al as he stood up and began rummaging through his belongings for them regardless.
"Everyone has to show a passport to cross the border, sir. That's the rule," replied the officer.
"Well, the Queen told us that she would make an exception in order to make the journey easier."
"The Queen … you're the Elrics?"
"Yeah," said Al with a grin. "I'm Alphonse, Edward's younger brother. And these are his grandchildren, Mira and Xander Elric." Mira and Xander stood up and smiled.
The officer pulled out a folded paper from his pocket, looking at it, then at the Elrics, then back at the paper, verifying that the pictures on it matched the people he was looking at. "Oh," he said after a moment. "Terribly sorry about that, Mr. Elric. Let us know if you need any other accommodations."
"Thanks, officer. Oh, uh—" Al tried to warn the officer about a man quickly walking toward him from behind. Before Al even processed the fact that the second man was also wearing the same uniform and therefore was probably not a threat, the man spoke up.
"You're Alphonse Elric?!" he asked excitedly.
Al smiled. "Let me guess, you want my autograph?"
"Oh, I mean … if you would?" The man held out a sheet of paper and a pen. Al took them and quickly scribbled his name before handing them back.
"I'm really that famous around here, huh?" said Al.
"Well," explained the other officer, "your brother did introduce our country to several previously unknown branches of alchemy, propelling the kingdom into a new golden age of prosperity expected to last far longer than the sixty or so years it already has. And he always made sure to mention that he would be nowhere close to the level of knowledge he was at if not for his brother's collaboration. So you're a bit of a celebrity, and understandably so."
Al smiled and sighed.
"So what you're telling me," Xander interjected, "is that we won't be able to go anywhere in this kingdom without a mob of fans following us around. Great."
"Hey," Mira said, "fame has a price. And more importantly, in my opinion, it has its benefits too." Xander could tell she was already planning a detailed list of expensive restaurants to visit on their Darian vacation.
"And all of this is why you two should be sure to stay near me when possible," Al said. "I don't want you kids getting caught up in anything."
"Caught up?" Xander replied. "What are they gonna do, swarm us with so much appreciation that we pass out or something?"
"No," Al said, "they could try to threaten to hurt you as leverage to get something from me."
"What, you're saying they're gonna kidnap us?"
"Well, this might just be my prior experience talking. Ed and I did get separated by evildoers a few times, and they were the most stressful times in my life."
"And that was when the country was brimming with Homunculi. Take it easy, Great Uncle Al, we can hold our own against whatever lowlifes are hanging around the alleys in Lampton."
"Well … okay, that's probably true. But your parents would kill me if anything happened to you. I want to live to 76, remember?"
Xander sat back down, as if to say "fair enough." His sister followed suit, and Al slowly seated himself with a sigh, reminded of his age.
A harpsichord was playing cheerful music as the two children and Alphonse walked into the grand ballroom. Sunlight shone through wide stained glass windows and, scattered by the crystals in the large chandelier hanging from the center of the dome, created such dazzling patterns on the tile floor that it almost appeared to glow. A large double staircase in the back of the room led up to a balcony upon which was located an elegant throne, in which sat Queen Mary of Darius, dressed in an ornate teal gown. To her right sat her heir apparent, Prince James; to her left, James's wife Princess Anita kept a close eye on the queen's two grandchildren, Prince Michael and Princess Gabriella.
In front of this royal array, on the elaborately patterned tiles, several wooden chairs with purple cushions had been set into place as was often done for royal (and religious) occasions such as this one. An usher led Alphonse and his two grandniblings to the front row, where they were silently directed to occupy the first three seats on the right-hand side. "Well, they certainly are concerned with appearances," whispered Mira as they sat.
"This is how most of their royal events are set up," replied Al. "I've watched a few of them on TV. The Queen is also the high priestess of the Church of Darius, so the ballroom in her palace doubles as a sanctuary."
"So Grandpa Elric is going to be a saint now?" asked Xander. "Do they know that he, you know, was agnostic?"
"The followers of the Church believe that everyone eventually sees the truth about God," Al replied. "They think that when you die, your soul goes to be with God, and once you meet Him you get to watch over the rest of the people in the world."
"And who exactly are the saints, anyway? Is that just the heavenly honor roll or something?" Mira asked.
"Saints are people the Church wants you to pray to," Al said. "Each saint is given a topic, like clothing, shelter, or even alchemy. You pray to a saint if you want help with their specific topic."
"So does that mean—" Mira didn't get a chance to finish the question, as everyone suddenly went silent, including the harpsichordist. The Queen slowly rose from her seat and addressed the crowd.
"Dear friends, nobles, and treasured guests, we are pleased and grateful to see you all in our palace this bright Sunday to celebrate and recognize the life and achievements of one of the most honorable men to walk this country's roads. This man, Edward Elric of Amestris, has set examples that we all ought to follow in our own lives, and in addition, he has distinguished himself by making unparalleled contributions to the Kingdom of Darius and to the lives of its citizens. He relentlessly committed to enlightening the citizens of this kingdom as to the nature and practices of alchemy, while maintaining that he himself could not perform a single transmutation, so that his mastery of the subject would only become clear through the acts of his students. He has brought about a golden age of alchemy in this country, and for this reason we have decided that it is only fitting and proper to grant him patronage over the domain of alchemy in our great Canon of Saints. No longer will he be known in this kingdom as Edward Elric of Amestris; henceforth, he will be recognized and venerated as Saint Edward, the Vicarious."
The Queen cleared her throat and relaxed her shoulders slightly. It was subtle, but it became clear to Al that she had finished the scripted portion of her speech and was now about to give a more personal perspective.
"I first met Edward when he came to our country several decades ago. The brilliant light in that man's golden eyes immediately made it clear to me that his intellect and talent far surpassed those of his peers, and the way they shone betrayed to me his heart to share his knowledge with the world. He came to Darius for one reason, to collaborate with our researchers and further the world's comprehension of alchemy. In this he was successful: we have since attained a level of alchemical knowledge and technology beyond that of which our forefathers could have dreamed. But I am not an alchemist myself, so I feel that I need not say any more as testament to his skill. For this reason, we have asked his younger brother, Alphonse Elric, to speak about his brother."
After the Queen sat, Alphonse stood and walked to the front of the room, where a lectern had been set up. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and set it on the lectern gently, smoothing it out a bit before raising his head and addressing the crowd.
"I want to start by saying that I am extremely honored to be here. Her Majesty the Queen has done everything to make this journey speedy and pleasant for me and for Edward's two grandchildren. For the hospitality we have been shown, we thank you all.
"Edward was, without a doubt, my closest companion for the seventy-five years our lives overlapped. Our father left us when we were young, and our mother died not long after. So Edward was almost like a parent to me. We never left each other's sides unless absolutely necessary, and we shared almost everything with each other. So when he passed … it was like half of me had gone with him. My life will never be the same without him, but his two children and two grandchildren are still with us, and every time they smile … I think of Edward.
"Edward was, as you all know, a brilliant alchemist. When he was only twelve years old, he passed our country's exam and became a State Alchemist, and he stayed the youngest ever to pass the test for decades. He always impressed his superiors with his skill, and even I was often surprised at what he was able to accomplish, despite being the one person who knew him the best. So I fully agree with the Queen's decision to recognize his contributions with a canonization, as it is the recognition that his level of alchemical mastery deserves.
"There is one thing I do want to make clear, though. You have all been highly influenced by Edward's knowledge and techniques, so I feel like you deserve to know the truth about why Edward never used alchemy himself. The reality is that …" Al took a deep breath. "The reality is that he couldn't, not after the end of the war in our country. You see, when we were very young, we made a mistake and tried to perform a transmutation that we didn't know wasn't possible. As a result, I lost my body and had to live as an empty suit of armor for several years. Edward was able to save me and get back my body, but he had to give up his ability to do alchemy in the process. He could still teach other people what he knew, but he could never transmute anything by himself again."
The crowd was intently watching Al as he paused for a moment to let the information sink in. He was slightly surprised that they didn't all already know the story, but it had been sixty years since Ed's last transmutation, and this was another country, after all. News really spread these days, but there were still details of people's former lives that weren't yet common knowledge. There were a few hushed murmurs as people told one another that a rumor they had heard had turned out to be true.
"So if there is one thing I remember about Ed, it is his heart. He cared deeply about the ones he loved, even more so than he cared about alchemy. He cared about every human being he met, and he did everything in his power to make sure that his alchemy was a tool for good, to change people's lives for better and not for worse. And he gave up his ability to transmute, his greatest asset, in order to ensure that one human being, his younger brother, could have a long and healthy life. It is because of Edward's sacrifice that I am able to stand here today, and that sacrifice is the reason I see it as only fair to call him a saint." Al bowed his head, left the podium, and sat back down next to Mira and Xander.
"Wow," whispered Mira in Al's ear. "That was a beautiful speech."
The rest of the ceremony was uneventful, mostly liturgical formula and tepid, businesslike words about the meaning of canonization and what it implied going forward. When the ceremony was finished and the last rays of sunset had shone through the glass, the chandelier was lit (electrically, much to the chagrin of Mira, who had wanted to see dancing flames on the fake candles), the chairs were set aside, and the ballroom was used for the purpose of its namesake. While the Elrics, not particularly enthusiastic dancers themselves, looked on, the nobles in the room shared several different varieties of dance. As a servant carrying a cheese platter passed by, Xander saw it fit to snatch a handful of cheese cubes at once rather than use the toothpicks provided. Al merely smiled and shook his head, knowing he would have done the same at Xander's age.
Then, the lights went out.
It happened in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, all of the electric lighting in the room went dark, and the night sky provided hardly any illumination to the room below. The harpsichordist stopped playing, unable to read his notes off the page. People stopped dancing. There were some nervous laughs, the guests sure that this was an honest mistake or technical difficulty.
A girl screamed. Chaos ensued, with everyone attempting to find the exit. Glasses of champagne shattered as nobles tripped over one another's hems, and panicked voices asked questions to which nobody present knew the answers. Just when Al was about to perform a transmutation to shed some light on the situation, whatever individual was in charge of the breaker box flipped a switch and brought the ballroom back into plain view. Everyone squinted at the sudden change in brightness.
The ball was in disarray. Dresses and suits left and right were soaked with champagne and red wines and smeared with creamy cheeses. Many of the partygoers were lying on the floor. Shards of broken glass and china, mingled with the crumbs of debased breads and crackers, were scattered throughout. And at the side of the room but the center of everyone's attention, Princess Anita stood, crying tears of frightened anguish, clutching her teenage son, with the crown prince at her side trying to comfort her or at least provide company to her misery.
Princess Gabriella was nowhere to be seen.