Chapter 2

Roy bit his lip and stared at the building that had been his father's charge and workplace, his home away from home. Jean and Maes stood on either side of him, eyes trailing the building as well. Roy stepped forward, his hands stuffed in his pockets resolutely, and nodded to the other two to stay behind. Maes caught his arm quickly before he entered the door and asked, "Are you ready, Roy? You know you have to have outstanding performance just to even consider you as a State Alchemist, right? You're only fourteen!"

"Oh, they'll let me in, Maes... they'll let me in." he shook his arm free and kicked open the door. The military men milling around in the lobby aimlessly stared at him and happy looks dawned on their faces, then fell again when they realized that he wasn't who they were hoping for. "Hey! How do you take the State Alchemist exams!" he shouted, demanding their attention. A particularly obnoxious man, whom Roy recognized as Colonel Basque Gran, sniggered at him. "Who do you think you are, whelp?"

"Me? You want to know who I am?" he asked, addressing the entire room. His slanted eyes surveyed them all, a fierce and dominating look that all of them recognized but none could place saw.

"I'm Roy Mustang, son of Leroy Mustang!" he declared, and the room fell silent. "Impossible! Mustang had no documentation of any children," Gran scoffed, though it pleased Roy immensely to see a drop of sweat coursing down the side of his head. It was true, his father did not keep any documentation of his birth so his mother's identity could be protected, and Roy didn't know how he would talk his way out of this one. Then one of the soldier's spoke up: "He has to be, Colonel Gran. Look at him; he looks exactly like Fuhrer Mustang."

"But he would have told us if he chose to recognize the brat," Gran continued to argue, trying to demean Roy.

"No Gran, this is Mustang's boy alright."

"Mr.Hughes!" Roy was glad to see him and the Brigadier General gave him a wave. "Leroy introduced me to the boy; this is his son. Lived under and was supported under his roof, so there's no question as to if he was recognized or not."

"I can vouch for that as well."

"General Havoc..."

"So... is there any question as to whether he should take the exams?" Havoc asked, looking around the room. Truth be told, the soldiers were delighted at having another Mustang in the military. Many were not pleased with the election of Fuhrer Bradley, saying that the ballots had been biased and tampered with. General Hughes sat himself on the edge of a desk and laughed. "Then there's no question, let's see what you can do, Roy."

Roy's eyes widened in surprise. "Right here?"

"Of course."

"And who will get the credit of ferreting me out and pushing me to the military?"

"No one but your father will get credit, Roy, I'll see to that," General Havoc assured him. Roy nodded and hesitantly slipped one hand out of his pocket, revealing an ignition cloth glove with the flame transmutation circle sewed into it. The soldiers gasped appreciatively; most of them recognized that symbol, and knew it well. The other hand was still firmly in Roy's pocket. "What do you want me to do?" he asked the Generals. "Well, right now it would be enough to just get a sample of flame alchemy. That should be enough to get you through the performance part of the exams."

Gran stepped forward menacingly. "No, he'll have to fight me with his useless sparks." Havoc stepped up angrily. "This isn't part of the procedure Colonel!" General Hughes held him back, a trace of an amused smile on his face. "Wait a minute, Havoc. This might be good for the boy's record.Fighting a ranked State Alchemist might be better for him in the long run."

"But he'll never win!" Havoc hissed through his teeth at Hughes. Hughes only shrugged and directed a wave in Roy's direction. "We'll never know until they try; Roy, this is your performance exam. Since we knew your father personally, we will exempt ourselves from the judging. Your judges will be the soldiers in this room. Soldiers: Grade Roy on his ingenuity with his alchemy and also his fighting prowess with it. Also see if he can develop a successful strategy in fighting Colonel Basque Gran. Remember, supporting Roy will get you no negative emmisions from Gran. If this becomes so, you come to one of the Brigadier Generals, we'll sort him out. Hear that Gran?"

Gran nodded, apparently dissatisfied that he could not harm the soldiers.

"Oh, and one more thing. Competitors in this performance exam are not allowed to deal permanent damage to their opponant, remember that, please," Havoc added. Roy nodded, and waited for the signal. Havoc and Hughes jumped back quickly and dove behind a couple of desks. "FIGHT!"

"What?" Roy asked in surprise. Gran loomed over him and Roy paled considerably, dodging to the side hastily as Gran smashed the floor where he usedto be. Roy continued to nimbly dodge his attacks, analyzing Gran's steps and swipes critically, looking for a possible opening, and the soldiers cheered appreciatively. Then Roy found his mark: just when Gran made his swing upwards, he left his body exposed for a precious second. A second was all Roy needed to snap his fingers and change the oxygen density in the air, creating his flames and blowing Gran into the other side of the room, into a wall, through the wall, and into Brigadier General Hawkeye's office.

"I say! Haven't you all stopped with your office brawls yet? I'm trying to do some work in here!" he yelled from his chair which he had scooted back into the wall as ColonelGran had careened into his desk and smashed it into splintered pieces, still smoking. Hawkeye peered through the hole. "Ah, Roy. Now I know what all the commotion is about, eh Riza?" Riza peeked out from around her grandfather and laughed as Roy's face reddened in embarassment. "I'm sorry for the hole, General Hawkeye."

"No matter, splendid show young Mustang!" Roy inclined his head in thanks for the compliment, smiling. "Thank you, Sir."

Havoc peeked up from over the desk and sighed. "So what do you all think? Should he be passed?"

"Pass him!" the crowd cheered. Hughes nodded, satisfied. "Now nobody can say we were biased to choose Roy, because we didn't. Alright Mustang, General Havoc and I will escort you to the Fuhrer's office."

Roy stiffened. "I have to go there?" he asked. He loathed going up there at the moment. "Yes Roy, you'll have to. You'll get your State certified name there, and if you go early, they might even let you have a preference."

Havoc and Hughes led him to the top floor; the Fuhrer's office, and knocked on the door. "Fuhrer Bradley, Sir, we have a promising State Alchemist for certification. The soldiers were present at his testing and approve of him, Sir." They stepped in and the Fuhrer smiled at them winningly, asking, "And how was his test conducted?" Havoc and Hughes saluted. "It was done in the lobby, Sir, and Colonel Basque Gran was asking for a fight so..."

"So we gave him one, Sir, in the form of Roy's performance exam," Hughes said, mouth quirking into a smile, and continued, "The only problem, Sir, is that there is now a rather large hole from the lobby straight into General Hawkeye's office, and Colonel Basque Gran is smoking in the vicinity of the lobby, which is not allowed."

"All in all, Sir, the soldiers say that he will be an outstanding State Alchemist."

Fuhrer Bradley nodded and studied Roy out of one eye, and Roy shuddered slightly. "Name, son?"

"Roy Mustang," he said, and Havoc and Hughes elbowed him from both sides. "Ouch! I mean, Roy Mustang, Sir."

"The former Fuhrer's son?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Any preferances you want on the certified name?"

Roy hesitated. "Is it possible... that I could take my father's name?"

"His first or second?"

"His first one, Sir. The Flame Alchemist?"

Fuhrer Bradley signed the papers and finished filling in all the blanks in the mock up document. "That look good to you, son?" Roy examined the document. 'I, Fuhrer King Bradley, bequeth the status of State Alchemist and it's parallel rank of Major, to Roy Mustang, henceforth named the Flame Alchemist...' he didn't need to read any more than that, he had been accepted!

"Now, I'll finalize this document, write it up myself, and it'll be yours to keep. Now as to who's jurisdiction you will be assigned..." he checked some papers and Roy looked to Brigadier Generals Hughes and Havoc hopefully. "It seems that you will be assigned to Basque Gran's jurisdiction, he's the next in line since you certainly can't be assigned to Fuhrer Mustang's jurisdiction."

"Yes Sir," Roy said hollowly. Basque Gran? The guy with the pointed moustache he had just blasted into Hawkeye's office? It seemed life would be a hell-hole from now on, and General Hughes put a hand on his shoulder. "Is there any way to get him out of Gran's jurisdiction?"

"I'm afraid not, General Hughes, I'm sorry. You are all dismissed." They saluted one more time, then steered Roy out of the room.

"How are you feeling, Flame Alchemist?" Havoc asked gently. "Like I got run over by a truck; multiple times. He'll eat me alive!"

"Just keep alive then, Roy. Gran has no power to kill you, don't worry. Just go up through the ranks, and you'll be fine."

"Yes Sir..."

Gran then chose that moment to appear before them, a sickeningly gleeful look on his face. "It seems you've been assigned to my jurisdiction, Mustang."

"Yes Sir."

"You'll be on cleaning duty until I think I've toned down your arrogance, am I understood?" Roy clenched his teeth, but forced himself to keep his temper. "Yes... Sir." General Havoc and Hughes had no power over this, and could give no more help than a pitying nod. "One more thing, Mustang. When you see me, or a higher ranking officer, you salute, am I clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

After the Generals had left, Gran grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall. "Don't think I don't know, Mustang. I know who your mother is." Roy growled at him and Gran pushed him harder into the wall. "You turn on me in any way, and I'll spill your secret to the whole office, and then where will you be? In a hole on the road, because the new Fuhrer doesn't like the products of breaking the Fraternization rule. You obey my every word, and you'll be safe, got it Mustang?"

Roy nodded slowly, though he hated to do it. "I got it. But first, tell me who you think my mother is."

"Ilia Durandal," he spat. "Mustang's faithful little Brigadier General." Roy's face paled and Gran dropped him on the floor. "We have an understanding. Your sucesses become mine, but your failures stay yours." he laughed and walked down the hall, leaving Roy to nurse his wounds and think of the terrible trap he had set himself up in.