Mirage

Chapter Two – Without a Soul, Part One

Alphonse, 12; Edward, 21

Rizembool 1917

Alphonse wiped the tears off his face in frustration, squinting at the horizon. The sun wasn't even up yet, and he was already crying. He had left Central because the military had frightened him, and run to Izumi in Dublith. He had left Dublith when he argued with Izumi, and run to Rizembool. And then, in his own special place by the river, he had argued with his best friend, and was left with no where else to run.

He flicked open his pocket watch and stared at the picture he kept inside. Pinako had given it to him when he left for Central, and when he made State Alchemist, he put it on the inside cover. There was his father, Hohenheim, who he barely remembered, and his mother, Trisha, who's death he remembered as painfully as if it had been yesterday. Then there was Edward, a little boy with a mop of blond hair, and finally Alphonse himself, a tiny baby, still innocent.

After their mother died, Edward always told everyone that they had no family. But these days Alphonse was of the mind that a family is something you can have even if it isn't there.

Something rustled under the porch, and Alphonse sighed as he made his way up the steps. Some animal, probably.

Some animal with a metal hand that reached out and grabbed his ankle, sprawling him across the stairs flat on his face. "What the-" he started, cheek pressed to the floor of the porch, staring into two round eyes a most unnatural shade of violet. Alphonse scrambled to his feet. "You!" he exclaimed.

"I thought you were the other one," came the whiny voice from under the porch. "The one who killed my mother."

His grey eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here? What do you want?" he demanded.

"I only hate the other one," the creature said again. "Not you. I came to find the mechanic girl, this is her house, isn't it?"

Only because he was able to keep in mind that the boy was in some way Izumi's son, Alphonse crouched down and said gently, "Wrath, if you come out from under the porch, I can help you. If you stay under there, Winry won't even know you're here." He rubbed his elbow where he had banged it on the porch railing.

Wrath crawled out, and the two eyed each other suspiciously. In the two years since they had seen each other, Alphonse's dark blond hair had grown long, and he tied it back now. He was dressed in black, and wore his brother's red coat, and carried a pair of white gloves in the pocket, just like his brother had worn.

Wrath wore a white shirt and dark pants, having abandoned dressing in a way that identified him as homunculus, but he was barefoot, and as he stood there, Alphonse realized why the creature came to Rizembool. A very small giggle escaped his lips. "You grew," he said finally.

Wrath glared.

"I didn't know homunculus could grow," he added, pleasant enough.

Wrath sneered. "You grew," he said smugly.

"I'm not a homunculus," Alphonse protested.

"You're a created human, the product of a human transmutation. You're a homunculus, same as me!" Wrath jeered.

"I'm not a failed transmutation," Alphonse said angrily, knowing he was being unkind. "I have a soul."

Wrath folded his arms, one flesh, one metal. "Your brother died, didn't he? That sounds like a failed transmutation to me."

Alphonse lunged at the creature, swinging his fist as he spoke. "He isn't dead!" His fist collided with Wrath's cheek, and the homunculus howled in response.

Wrath swung back with his too short metal arm, and Alphonse ducked, the blow grazing the edge of his ear.

"What is going on?" came a mighty roar from the doorway, and the boys stopped to see a very tiny, very angry old woman in her bathrobe watching them from the front door.

"I'm sorry, Auntie," Al murmured, embarrassed.

"I'm not," Wrath piped up.

"Get up, both of you!" She ordered, eyeing Wrath's metal limbs. "Alphonse, where is Winry? This is her project, not mine!"

Alphonse turned even redder. "I don't know. We got in a fight."

Pinako shook her head. "You're becoming more like Edward every day with that temper," she said, turning to go in the house.

"I'm not like Ed," Al protested.

Wrath rolled his violet eyes. "Sure you aren't."

Munich 1921

"Daydreaming again?" said a voice.

Edward blinked, becoming once again aware of his surroundings. He focused on the rows of books in front of him, looked down at the cart of books at his side, and slowly met the eyes of a young woman named Greta, who's expression was of one who was trying to look stern but struggling, since the corners of her mouth kept twitching up towards a smile. "Eh?"

She glanced down at the books on the cart. "This is the same cart from before lunch, Edward."

"I… I wasn't daydreaming," he said truthfully. Actually he hadn't been thinking at all.

"Well, you can go home now, it's long past six o clock, and it's not your turn to stay late tonight. I can put these away."

Ed rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Oh, sorry, I'll do them now, before I leave. Sorry about that."

Greta tipped her head to one side. "What were you thinking about? You had an odd expression."

"Ah, nothing, really," Ed mumbled, picking up a book and sticking it on the shelf. "Sorry, Greta."

"It's all right, really," she insisted.

He shrugged. "Okay."

Greta clasped her hands behind her back, pressed her lips together, looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and sighed. Edward became engrossed in re-shelving the books in Munich's University Library. "Ed?" she tried again, after a minute.

"These are all organic chem. books, I'll be done in a few minutes," he said, distracted.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asked quickly, a little too loud.

"Dunno. Research," he said absently, picking up another book.

"There's some live music at the Tavern right outside the University, would you maybe like to go check it out?"

Edward stopped and turned to face her. "Maybe," he said finally. "I'll talk to Al."

Greta's face brightened. "Okay! I hope I'll see you there!" she said with a smile. Ed watched her hair swish across her shoulders as she walked back to the checkout desk.

An hour or so later Ed stood in the doorway of the University's physics lab, smiling fondly, if not distantly, at the sight of Alphonse surrounded by piles of books at papers, furiously scribbling things down and scratching them out, holding his calculations at a distance and squinting at them, then snatching up a different set of papers and continuing to scrawl over them.

"Ed!" he called excitedly, not even looking up, "this is incredible, I think I've really got to something here, come look at this, you see-" he said, shoving the papers under Ed's nose- "You know how I've been working on this one part for months now, well, I thought maybe I was going about it the wrong way, and-"

At first, Edward's lackluster mood of the day made him disinclined to engross himself in the physics of rocketry quite then, and he almost said so to Al, but the scientist in him won out, and he snatched the papers out of Al's hand, dragging a chair over to work next to him. "Alphonse, you're a genius," he said excitedly, "I never would have thought of this! And now, with this theory, we can completely re-think everything we've done in the past two years!"

Alphonse smiled, shaking his head. "Well, that's a bit much for tonight, but if you could just go through what I've finished so far and tell me what you think…" he started, but Ed was already completely absorbed in Alphonse's notes. He smiled again, thinking his friend was the one who was the genius, to instantly understand what he himself had been working through for days.

Ed's interest in Alphonse's research on rocketry had become sporadic in the past few months. Sometimes, like now, he was as excited about the theories as he ever had been, but other days he was just disinterested, saying even if they could get a rocket off the ground, it wouldn't be with a person in it, not for years, or decades even. "Whatever's up there," he said once, "It isn't home," and refused to say any more on the topic, leaving Alphonse thoroughly puzzled.

It was Edward's growling stomach that finally made the boys realize they had been at it for hours, and that maybe it was time to go home.

"Do we even have anything to eat at home?" Edward complained as they filed away their notes, getting ready to leave.

Alphonse thought for a minute. "Maybe not," he said finally. "Let's stop somewhere on the way home then."

Edward remembered Greta's invitation, and said, "Greta invited us to the Tavern right outside the University to see some band, I bet we could get something to eat there."

Alphonse grinned. "She invited us, or you, Ed?" he said slyly, and Edward blushed.

"Me, but you should come too."

"She likes you, Ed," Alphonse teased.

Ed gave a snort. "Whatever." In a more serious tone, he added, "It was just a friendly invitation. She didn't mean anything by it. Besides, I don't want to get involved with anyone, you know that."

Al sighed as they walked side by side through the abandoned halls, sure they were the last two in the building on a Friday night. This was a conversation they had already had many times over. "Why not, Ed? She seems like a nice girl."

"She is a nice girl! I just don't want to get involved with anyone here!"

But why not, he almost pressed, but instead he said cheerfully, "Well, you got involved with me!"

Without thought, Edward responded, "That's because you're my bro-" and stopped. "You're my best friend," he amended, but he knew Alphonse caught him.

A slight shiver went up his spine. It always disturbed Alphonse, just a little bit, when Ed seemed to mistake him for his brother, even for a second. He knew he was the only person in the two years Ed had lived in Germany who he had gotten at all close to, and he knew that to Ed he was just a replacement for his missing brother. He wished he could say he knew Ed liked him for who he was, not who he reminded him of, but he wasn't always sure. However, Ed was still his friend, and Ed was always there for him no matter what, even letting him stay at his house when he had no where else. He was also, Alphonse thought, a complete genius when it came to physics.

Rizembool

"Can you fix it?" Wrath demanded bluntly, almost glaring at Winry.

"Of course I can fix it!" Winry said indignantly. "It will just take a few days, I've got to make a new arm and leg for you from scratch. Why on earth didn't you come to me sooner?"

Wrath looked away, seeming nervous. "She didn't want me to."

"She?" Winry repeated curiously.

"My… my mother," Wrath said, somewhat uncertain.

"I thought you said Ed killed your mother!" Alphonse broke in. The three of them were in the workroom of the Rockbell's automail shop, with the homunculus sitting in his underwear on the exam table.

"He killed them all, and now I'm all alone!" Wrath wailed, "and She says I'm no use to her without an arm and leg, and I cant even do alchemy any more, and this automail is too short for me now!"

Winry patted him hesitantly on his flesh arm. "Well, at least we can do something about your automail. Let me measure you," she said as she brought out a piece of string.

Alphonse just stared, lost in thought. Firstly, he was beginning to find automail at least mildly fascinating, partly because it was so important to Winry, and partly because it made him feel closer to Edward. Also, when Wrath was last at the Rockbell residence, Alphonse had been newly restored, very disoriented and confused, and very sad and upset, and everyone seemed to walk on eggshells around him. Al had been kind to Wrath because he felt sorry for him, not even knowing until after he had gone that he was a real homunculus, and not only that but he was the homunculus that had been created when Izumi attempted a human transmutation on her stillborn child. He still did not know that Winry had refused to make Wrath any automail if he told Alphonse any more that the barest details of what had happened in the ancient city underneath Central.

To Alphonse, it seemed that this creature held all the information that had been kept from him, because after all, by his own admission, Wrath had been there when Ed was killed, and had seen the transmutation first hand. All Al knew of that night was what Roze finally told him, and Roze did not know much. She said she had been in a trance of some sort the entire time she was in the ancient city, and even before that, she only had the faintest memories of leaving Lior with her people and the destruction of her city. It wasn't until Dante disappeared that her memories became clear again.

She had told him that Edward was lying on the floor of the ballroom, in a pool of blood, eyes closed, and she thought he was dead, but he woke up. He had two flesh arms, and two flesh legs, but Alphonse himself was no where. He told Roze to take Wrath, who was bleeding from where his arm and leg had been torn off, and get out of the city, because he was going to destroy it so that no other alchemist could come there seeking the Philosopher's Stone.

He didn't say anything about actually having the Philosopher's Stone. That bothered Alphonse immensely.

Wrath was the one who told Alphonse that they had the Philosopher's Stone in the first place. And so, he figured, Wrath must have a lot of key information as to what exactly happened that night two years ago. He would just have to find a way to get the creature to talk to him, without anyone trying to stop him. Because whatever it was that Wrath knew, for it to be kept from him for two years, it must be something very, very bad.

"What do you mean, he killed them all?" Alphonse asked, and flinched at the creature's pained expression. "Sorry," he whispered. For someone he felt sorry for, he wasn't being very sensitive.

"There were seven of us," Wrath explained. "Now She only has me."

"Edward killed six homunculus?"

"He killed my mother!" the boy wailed, and Winry shot Alphonse an angry look.

"Al!" she protested.

"I'm sorry!" Alphonse said again, but couldn't help but wonder who Wrath was talking about. If he had a mother, wasn't that Izumi? And Izumi was very much alive, last he checked, even if they were not currently on good terms.

Alphonse began to think maybe he should call Izumi, so she didn't worry about where he ran off to, and to apologize. Maybe he was starting to have a bit of a temper, without having Edward around to watch out for.

Munich

Edward rested his chin on his left hand, his right arm dangling limp at his side, the fingertips brushing against the edge of the barstool. He was staring at the tiny bubbles rising in the beer glass in front of him. Alphonse ducked his head down to the level of the bar to read the spines of the books Edward had piled next to him.

"What are all these? These aren't science texts!" Al said in surprise.

"Oh, just something I was interested in a while back, that I felt like brushing up on. Its Indian philosophy and religion actually," he answered casually.

"What's Shambhala?" Al asked curiously.

Ed continued to stare at the glass as he began to explain. "It's a city that's believed to exist on another plane of reality, where things that aren't possible in this realm become possible, and the only people who can get there are those who have a perfect understanding of the laws and nature of this world-"

"Is that where you're from?" Alphonse asked him, only half joking.

Edward choked on his sip of beer, and bent over coughing. "No!" he managed finally. "Don't be ridiculous! It isn't a real place, it's never been proved to exist. Everyone who's claimed to have seen it, or seen its guardians, didn't really see it. It was a mirage, or a hallucination, or something. No one's actually been there," he said very quickly, not wanting Al to think he believed in fairy tales. "It's supposed to be located in the Himalayan mountains somewhere. I'm not from there," he added, trying to laugh about Al's suggestion. Different plane of reality, eh? "It's some kind of paradise," he said softly, now that Alphonse's interest was peaked. "And they say that those who go searching for it, in earnest, never return."

"Edward!" a female voice exclaimed, and his head snapped up.

"Greta," he said in greeting.

Alphonse nodded. "Hi, Greta."

"Hi Alphonse," she said, sitting down on the stool next to Ed, peering at his pile of books. "Oh, I read these," she said in recognition. "I didn't know you were interested in this stuff, Edward."

Ed shrugged. "I'm interested in everything," he said honestly. Everything that might get me home, he thought to himself.

"I have to say," she continued, "I didn't think you would really come tonight. I don't think I ever see you anywhere but around the University. And you're not even a student!"

"Well, Al and I don't have any food at home, and we were in the lab all night. I was hungry!" Ed explained.

Greta laughed. "Well if that's what it takes to get you out of the house."

"Besides he wanted to see you," Al piped up, and Edward shot him a glare through slitted eyes.

She watched the exchange and laughed again. "Aw, how sweet."

The music was mediocre at best, but the meal Ed and Al shared did its job, and after a second beer Edward began to loosen up a bit, joining Greta and Alphonse in their easy laughter. Alphonse kept winking and looking over at Greta whenever she was turned the other way, and Edward tried to make a joke out of glaring at him.

At one point in the evening Ed slipped again and called Alphonse his brother, not even realizing it until Greta responded, "oh you do look alike, I never noticed that before! But you have different last names!"

"We're not brothers," Alphonse snapped, and Ed turned a little red, hoping that in the dim light of the tavern it wasn't visible.

"Oh come on," he said, slinging an arm around Al's shoulders. "You know what I mean. You're like a brother to me."

"I'm not your brother," Alphonse said darkly.

"Fine," Edward huffed, turning away to face Greta. "See? My first social outing in months, and I've already managed to insult my best friend." She raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm not insulted," Alphonse muttered. "its just weird."

"Sorry I'm weird," Edward said sharply.

By the end of the night, though, it had blown over, and Alphonse even jokingly called him brother when he suggested they head home. He didn't see the pained expression that flickered behind Ed's eyes when he said it, because in another split second it was gone.

"So, Greta, where do you live?" Alphonse asked her, and she told him her neighborhood, it was near the big train station. "Well, that's not the nicest place to be at night. Edward should walk you home," he offered gallantly.

"Or we could all go," Ed suggested pointedly.

"Nah, I am way too tired, I need to go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow, Ed," Alphonse said, feigning innocence.

"Alphonse!" Ed protested, calling after him, but he was already halfway down the block. Ed sighed, shaking his head. "I don't believe him," he said under his breath. Then, adjusting his pile of books under his arm, he said, "Well, then, I guess I have no choice. Sure, Greta, I'd be happy to walk you home." He smiled at her, to take the edge of the sarcasm he was sure was creeping through his voice. Alphonse might just wake up later that night to a nice pounding from a pillow.

"I can carry those books for you," she offered, holding out her hands.

Ed looked at her. "Ah, that's okay, I can manage them," he said, slightly surprised by her offer.

He caught her glance quickly at his stiff right arm. "I know," she said, biting her lip. Then she offered him another smile. "But," she said hesitantly, "I'd like to hold your hand."

"Oh," he said, taken aback, and awkwardly handed her the pile. He tensed up when she clasped her fingers around his, but made an effort to relax, at least somewhat. They walked back to her place in silence, and when she said good night, he knew she was expecting something, but all he could seem to manage was a squeeze on her shoulder before taking his books back. He figured it was something between a handshake and a hug. He couldn't have been more startled when she leaned in to give him the tiniest of kisses on his cheek, no more than half a second, before she smiled and said goodnight, unlocked her door, and went inside.

Rizembool

Alphonse stepped outside to see Roze's son Kain banging on the latticework under the porch with a wooden spoon. The sun was shining brightly and it was a beautiful day out in the country. Winry was intently working on Wrath's automail, humming contentedly as she pieced metal to metal. "Kain, whatcha doin?" he asked, crouching down.

"Alphonse!" came a hiss from under the porch.

Peering into the darkness, Alphonse saw Wrath's violet eyes behind the lattice.

"Get him away from me!"

Alphonse tried not to let Wrath hear him as he chuckled softly. Wrath was afraid of Roze's son. He scooped the boy up in his arms, and said, "Hey little bro, why don't you go play inside for now?" He dropped him down in the doorway and he could hear Kain running around in the living room, banging the furniture with his spoon. That was probably why Roze sent him outside in the first place. Oops. "Wrath, he went inside. You can come out now."

Wrath crawled out from his spot under the porch and sat next to Alphonse on the steps. "Thanks."

"I have a question for you, if you don't mind," he started slowly, and Wrath turned his eyes on his.

"What?"

He had thought about how to word the conversation for a while now. "If I brought my brother back, would you try to kill him?"

Wrath's eyes narrowed, but he considered the question. "No," he said finally. "I would make him bring my mother back. Because he can do things like that with his alchemy, I saw him."

"And who's your mother?" Alphonse pressed.

"Sloth. Mommy Sloth," he said, tears beginning to pool in his eyes.

"I thought Izumi was your mother."

"She's not my mother!" the child cried. "She abandoned me! Sloth was my mother, because she was his mother, and he didn't want her, he abandoned her, we were both abandoned, and she was a mother, and I was a son!" Wrath was quickly becoming hysterical, and Alphonse was afraid he was going to get in trouble for upsetting him so much again, but a nagging idea was beginning to form in the back of his mind. "Just like his arm and his leg, he gave them up, so I took them!" A homunculus is what is formed after a failed human transmutation, a creature with the body of the person the alchemist tried to resurrect, but without a soul. "He took them back, though," Wrath added, as an afterthought.

Alphonse was dumbfounded. Edward had killed the creature they created when they tried to resurrect their mother.

Suddenly he was aware of Pinako's fingers snapping in his face. "Alphonse! Hello! Alphonse!" she was shouting. Was it really their mother Edward had killed?

He turned to her. "Hm?"

"Telephone," she said gruffly.

Alphonse wandered into the kitchen after the telephone, wondering if it was Izumi or the military who had realized this is where he would have run off to. When he saw the receiver on the table, surrounded by sparkles, his question was answered. Shoving what he had just learned to the back of his mind, he cringed as he picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Alphonse!" came the booming voice. "It is so wonderful that I, Alex Louis Armstrong, have finally discovered your location!"

"Sorry for running off, Major," Alphonse said in a small voice. "You know it wasn't you I was angry with."

"Apology accepted!" The phone was nearly vibrating, and the sparkles seemed to increase in intensity every time the man spoke.

"Alphonse Elric, Soul Alchemist, your presence is required in Central two days from now, at a State Alchemist meeting with the President and General Hakuro!" The exclamation points were visible, Alphonse was certain.

"But that sounds like a war meeting or something, I shouldn't have to go to that, I'm just a research alchemist!" Alphonse protested. Besides, in order to be in Central in two days, he would have to leave that day.

"It is your research we will be discussing, Alphonse! Your presence is essential! Your attendance is required!" The wattage level of the sparkles dimmed suddenly, and Major Armstrong lowered his voice. "The safety of our country depends on this, Alphonse. It is your duty to attend. I'm sorry."

Alphonse sighed, unable to argue with the man or the orders. "Don't be," he said, resigned. "I'll be on the first train I can get."

"Thank You!" the telephone boomed, sparkles seeming to spray everywhere, before they disappeared entirely when the line disconnected.

Pinako stood in the doorway. "What was that about?" she asked.

"I have to leave for Central tonight, Auntie. I'm sorry, I would rather stay here with you and Winry."

Pinako nodded sagely. "Perhaps, Alphonse, if you simply ask the military for some vacation time, instead of running off, you will find that you can spend quite a bit of time with us here in Rizembool." A smile played at the corners of her lips.

Al turned in surprise. "How did you know?" he asked.

"Izumi called this morning."

He swallowed. "Was she angry?" he asked, slightly panicked.

Pinako shook her head. "No, she wanted to make sure you were safe."

Alphonse sighed. "I've really messed things up, haven't I, Auntie?"

She pulled him in for a hug. "Its nothing that a few apologies can't fix, Alphonse."

He hugged her back tightly, trying not to think of what he had just learned from Wrath. I'm sorry, Mother. I'm so sorry…

Munich

The front door was open when Ed returned from walking Greta home. "Al…" he muttered under his breath. Did his friend want just anyone to wander in at this time of night? "Alphonse, ya left the door open!" he called, not caring if he woke him up. As he trudged through the living room, he realized that the mess all over the floor was not their normal clutter. In fact, it looked like there had been a struggle of some sort. "Alphonse?" he called out, suddenly alarmed. When there was no response, he quietly opened the top drawer of the desk in the front hall, taking out the gun he had stashed there, and quietly made his way to the back of the house.

What he saw in the bedroom was himself, holding a knife to Alphonse's throat, and grinning an evil, toothy grin.

"Greetings, Fullmetal Shortness," said his own voice, before the creature's shape blurred and became that of an androgynous being with long, spiky green hair.

Terror was plastered all over his friend's face. "Edward!" he gasped.

To be continued…