Author's Note: Yeah, you may be wondering about this…At school, I was complaining to my friend that every FMA fanfic with a Original Character I've ever read is a Mary-Sue. I wanted to look for one, but they're very difficult to find…She told me that I should try to write one. So here it is. A story about an OC that is (hopefully) NOT a Mary-Sue. I'm trying very hard on this one. Good luck. (Why am I wishing myself luck?)
The State Alchemy Exam. Who hadn't heard of it? Do a couple of fancy tricks and win yourself a spot rooted deep within the military. And if one had ever drawn a transmutation circle and performed a simple feat like creating a polished rock from lumpy loam, could they later admit in all honesty that that never in their life had they dreamed of becoming a State Alchemist? No. What a dream it would be to walk through the street and accidentally brush against a stranger, and have them scream, spit and rage! And then you could coolly draw out your silver watch from your pocket in a slow, deliberate motion and coolly say, "I'm a State Alchemist." And then they would pale, because even a lug like them had heard of your reputation, and the newly formed crowd would gasp. Yet still they would want a fight, but with a clap of your hands, the ground beneath them would buck like an untamable mustang and they would hurtle through the air to land with a thud. Then, reverent applause. Oh, what a dream!
Yes, it was the goal of any alchemist to become one of the State, gain a long yet silky title like, "The Indigo Dreams Alchemist," and become respected and feared by everyone. Little children would be lulled to sleep with tales of your wondrous exploits, and oh, what a legend you would become! Man is not satisfied with living and dying in a corner, then being left to gather dust. He must be noticed, praised, worshipped! Then, he will never really die, but live on through retellings of his adventures! That is why, when offered fame, any given man will snatch it up. That was why it was so important to be a State Alchemist.
The young woman took a tentative step through the darkness, probing the floor delicately with her foot as she searched for opposition. There was a click; she blinked at the sudden light. Illuminated under a bright spotlight, a chair sat, the obvious focal point of the room. It was alone, solitary, and forlorn. She held her breath for a second before realizing what she had to do. She took another step.
The chair was a curious thing indeed. Every chair she had ever seen was a standard polygon four legs, one in each corner. Beneath this chair, only three legs twisted upward, winding together to meet the seat of the chair. She reached the chair, uncertain of what she needed to do next.
A voice came out of the blackness. "Balance. That is alchemy." Another light went on, but this one was dim. Sitting behind a long desk was a row of people, gazing intently at her. She stared, bewildered, then shifted her expression so it begged for help like a confused puppy. "Sit," was the command.
Would it stand? Oh, yes, "balance." Still, the woman didn't put all her faith in the chair as she slowly sat down. She sat nervously on the edge, and she could have sworn she felt it wobble beneath her, just a little bit.
"Ah, good," the voice said pleasantly. It was a kind voice. She loosened, but slightly. "Don't be so nervous."
"Yes." She murmured faintly.
"Molly Bane?"
"Yes. Sir."
"You wish to become a state alchemist?"
"Yes, sir."
There was a long pause, a shuffle of papers, and some hushed mutters. Molly coughed. Her eyes shifted to her thin hair falling down her shoulders. In this light, its pallid yellow hue was not dissimilar to bone. She pushed it back behind her ears and coughed.
"You are twenty-one years of age?" the voice asked, startling her.
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. You have moved on to the next stage of the Exam."
"Just like that, sir?"
"Just like that."
.-
A stream lazily wound through the grove. The bottom was composed of heaps of pebbles. And, there were several slender trees arching lazily into the sky. The ground was strewn with thick bushes and dead leaves. Off to the side, as if the creator of this scene of serene beauty had added it as an afterthought, was a large pile of sand.
"This is the final stage of the examination. Please, use any resource here freely. Use alchemy to create something for us."
Molly sat down on a warm rock, running her hand over the lichen clinging to it. She did her best to smile benevolently, but it turned out strained and somewhat scary. There was another man here; he was drawing a transmutation circle. What could she possible make to show them her skill? She needed to prove that Molly Bane was worthy of being not just any alchemist, but a State alchemist. It had to be big and unusual, creative and flashy. What could she do?
Molly was hoping the man's transmutation would give her an idea of her own, but no, he used the water and stone to make a fountain. A fountain. How unoriginal that was, Molly couldn't express. To reword that, that was what Molly thought of when she noticed the stream but not yet anything else. Molly stood, smiling apprehensively, and brushed off the nonexistent dust dirtying her skirt. She smiled again, but larger, phonier.
First thing to do, ready the transmutation circle…
Done…
Gather the resources…
Done…
And now for the alchemy itself.
A flash of inspiration swept over Molly. She put her hands of the edge of the transmutation circle and initiated her performance. The sand rose into the air, writhing like a shapeless, ghastly spectral form, but soon it began to shape itself. It was arranged into the shape of a swan, a giant swan, one with its wings outstretched to either side, neck up, head held proudly. It was a wonderful swan. Now, a lucent, pearly coating began to form over it. All of this took far less time than it took to explain.
Her statue was nearly done! Molly crowed inwardly. She was going to become a State Alchemist! The elegant bird dwarfed the unoriginal fountain! She won! She won! She won!
And then, a tightening in her chest. Molly automatically tried to gasp, but her throat was too tight. Her breathing was rapid, but little air made it in. A wave of nausea swept over her. Her brain was foggy, she couldn't think. What had gone wrong? She had exerted too much energy. Oh…
Without warning, the pearly coating on the statue dissolved, leaving a towering mass of sand above the hyperventilating woman. She couldn't move, couldn't do anything as it collapsed onto her. Sand sprayed into her mouth; she was choking. Her eyes stung, and the rain of sand grazed her skin. Before she could do anything, she was buried alive. Molly could feel the weight of the sand pressing onto her. She would die from simultaneous crushing and asphyxiation. And all because of a foolish alchemic dream. As her firmly shut eyes began to emit tears, the sand became water, which fell away into a harmless puddle Molly was now kneeling foolishly in.
Molly gasped. Had she somehow managed to transmute the sand to water? Without using a transmutation circle? Yes! She had done it! Her dream had been salvaged! This remarkable recovery was sure to bring her triumph.
As Molly stood and walked over to the group of people, grinning widely, she heard, "Well, we have our newest State Alchemist."
"Thanks," she said proudly, only to hear disapproving titters.
"Oh no, not you, Miss Bane."
What? No? Surely this was wrong!
"But…"
"You collapsed from exhaustion before your statue was finished. State Alchemists must have strong endurance."
"But…I was saved…"
"By Tom."
Molly gaped at the fountain man, who had a silly grin plastered on his face. No, no, no! Her swan was twice as great! He had saved her and stolen her spot! He had snatched his victory from her covetous jaws! NO NO NO!
Her moist eyes lost their resistance, and a waterfall of tears cascaded down her cheeks. Everything she had worked for! She had trained for years! Her efforts, her boasts….all in vain! No!
Molly turned and ran away from the group. She tried to follow the path she had came here on, but in truth, she didn't really care. She crashed through the forest blindly. She stumbled over a rock, but kept going. It wasn't her fault! She had deserved to beat that stupid Tom!
It was her parents' fault, always encouraging her, lying to her that she would be great.
"No!"
It was the fault of her alchemy books that told her anything was possible.
"No!"
In fact, they had given her the wrong transmutation circle. That was why it failed!
"No!"
Or it was the dirt, which ruined her meticulous circle.
"No!"
Or maybe it WAS her parents, for giving her weak, endurance-less genes.
"NO!"
Whoever had brought the fault, it wasn't her.
In her hurry to run away, Molly's stepped on a tangled bush, then tried to take another leap, only to have her foot stuck in the dense foliage, causing her to fall to the ground. There she lay, crying, blaming the whole world, and beating her hands against the ground like a rotten child.
A/N: It's not done. I'll do more when I feel like it.