My jangling alarm clock woke me up, as well as the rest of the house. Fortunately, there weren't that many people in the house to wake up anymore, just my mom and me. I brushed my teeth and took a quick shower before changing into my blue uniform. I'm pretty scrawny, so the uniform is a bit baggy on me, but my uniform's not the problem. I've got big shoes to fill, and I have small feet, if you know what I'm saying.

I enlisted in the military about a year ago, and the closest I've ever gotten to the top was giving the Fuhrer coffee every once in awhile. He liked me, which wasn't such a bad thing; not that it surprised anyone. Sure, he may have been a bit past his prime, but he was made to be Fuhrer. It was strange to think of all the people that said they'd quit but never did or said they'd get to the top but never did. I think most people are just afraid to take that next step, never knowing where it might lead. But not the Fuhrer. He wasn't afraid to take that next step-he knew what he wanted. Whenever opportunity knocked, he was standing there with the door already opened.

Forget the metaphor. The Fuhrer was a man who knew what he wanted and he knew just how to get it, too.

Down in the living room on the coffee table was a polished mahogany box lined with red velvet that my mother always told me not to touch, even though I already knew what was in it. I brushed my fingers lightly over the top as I did every morning for luck. I don't tend to believe in things like these, but this small ritual gave me enough strength to stand up to the day. Even though my mother kept it locked, it was tempting to open, but I didn't know where she had hid the key anyway, so I tried my best to convince myself I wasn't interested in the box's contents-six knives of all sorts-and made my usual breakfast of two fried egg sandwiches. I ate them down, realizing I had gotten a late start on the day and crammed my feet into my shoes, a little too small, but I hadn't gotten the chance to go shopping for anything new in awhile.

I rushed out the door and sprinted down to HQ. I knew that I shouldn't be in a hurry at all, my job was boring, filing reports and papers and so on. But if I got there early enough, I also knew, meant that I could steal a quick chat with my friend Mark. 5'7" with broad shoulders, curling brown hair and laughing eyes, a couple years older than me, for sure. He had gotten in as a State Alchemist two years ago. I had a school girl crush on him, I will admit, but not much more than that. He was a bit like an older brother to me for some strange reason, even though we really hadn't known each other for that long.

I sat down at my particle board desk, remembering the military's budget cuts six months ago with a frown. To be perfectly honest, that was the last thing I expected the State to cut. I checked the clock on the other side of the wall. My "paper partner" as I called the other girl, Lisa, who worked with me wouldn't be in for another fifteen minutes. I was early as usual, but just because I was didn't mean I had to start working yet. "So you are here," Came a male voice. "I was beginning to wonder."

"Don't sneak up like that, Mark," I said, leaning back in my chair. I was used to his tricks by now. He laughed.

"You're late," he said, still smiling.

I rolled my eyes. "There's no one here and you call me late?"

"Sure, sure," he said, sauntering up to Lisa's empty desk and leaning on it. "Guess who's in town?"

"Who?"

"Mustang."

I jumped up. "No!"

"Yeah," he said. "What? Don't want to see him?"

"No, just surprised, that's all," I said slowly.

"Yeah, well, I suspect he'll want to see his favorite coffee girl."

"Well, thanks for telling me, Mark," I said, leaning foward in my chair, ready to get up. "Anything new and exciting happen?"

He shrugs. "Absolutely not. So, you doing anything later tonight?" He asked.

Whoa! Had I just heard him right? My schoolgirl crush was becoming a reality? "No, not at all," I said, hope alight in my eyes.

"Good," he said, "Because you know how much paperwork there'll be tonight."

"Oh," I said, biting my lip, trying not to sound disappointed. "Well, I'd better go get his coffee, then." I left reluctantly, telling myself not to be sad; it's not like this was the end of the world. Oh well, it never was anymore than a bit of a crush anyway.

I knocked quietly on the Fuhrer's door and entered a little nervously; though I had seen him on several occasions, I had always been a little afraid of Mustang. "Coffee," I said.

He smiled at me, not seeming to care that the hot coffee was burning a hole through my hand. "Well, here you are, sir," I said quickly, placing it on his desk. If I had to guess, he was mid to late 40's by now, fifty at the most. Ash grey was creeping into his coal black hair, his dark eyes lined with tiredness. He had changed a lot since I was four, but I suspect he was still strong as ever. "Why don't you take a seat?" He offered. I quickly glanced around for a chair, but finding none I just stood before his desk.

"Anything else, sir?"

He studied me for a minute. "You've got some pretty big shoes do fill, don't you?" He said. I blinked. Of all the strange questions. In my exact words, I might add. I wasn't sure what to say, so I just nodded.

"Guess so, sir."

"Yes, well," he said, handing me three thick folders. "Reports from Pinnacle and Dragonblood," he told me. "Read them over last night." I nodded, taking the folders. Of the two State Alchemists he had named, I knew only one--Dragonblood was Mark. Don't ask me why he was called that--I can honestly say I haven't a clue. I didn't understand half of them; they only made sense to their owners anyway.

"Anything else?"

"No," he said. As I headed out the door, he called back to me. "Elysia."

I turned around at once, surprised that he had called me by my first name. "Yes, sir?"

"I think your father would be proud of you, no matter what you decided to do."

My face burned a little as he spoke these words. "Thank you, sir," I said quickly, then left.