Chapter 8- Life's Toll

A/N: The title of this chapter was altered due to the fact that chapter 2 of the Fullmetal Alchemist Manga is titled "Price of Life". This was entirely coincidental, and I found it by accident while referencing. Please note that this story, however, runs based off the Anime of Fullmetal Alchemist, not the Manga (although I love both of them) I suppose this is a good time to say that: I, Raeluvs, do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its affiliates, it is copyrighted © by Hiromu Arakawa, 2003, all rights reserved. Please enjoy, and thank you for reading

"Come in."

Roy tentatively pushed the door open, barely twisting the golden knob in his hand. He peered through the stilted crack, searching for her form. Riza smiled, standing quietly.

"Don't worry; Al's asleep." She said softly. Roy sighed, visibly relieved. He beckoned with his hand for her to follow; she glided across the floor without making a sound, sliding out the door and closing it inaudibly, without a flicker of notice from Alphonse.

"How's he doing?" Roy asked solemnly, voice turning hard. Riza's russet eyes strayed from her superior's face, drifting to the floor. Her lips were poised to speak what Roy wanted to hear; that Alphonse was fine, recovering, remembering things steadily. It would look neat and clean, black and white; a happy ending on a military report. Her lips were down turned in a thoughtful look; it would be a beautiful lie.

Roy noted the tautness of her slender face, and the worry that was evident in her eyes despite her attempt to shut it out. He felt the strangest urge to tell her that things would be all right, that she was doing everything perfectly and that all would be fine in the end. But he would be giving her only a temporary succor; it would be a rash promise that he could not support, and it could hurt her in the end. As much as he wanted to be the solace she needed, his job came first, and he would not riddle her with what could be a lie.

"Lieutenant." His voice softened. She looked up at him, her answer ready. He shook his head once, shoulders slumping slightly. "We're dogs of the military. Lies do not become of us." Her auburn eyes widened slightly, her slim features registering the slightest aspects of surprise. He wanted the truth, although he wasn't going to like it. His face was concealing, a blank, hard front facing her. Riza's eyes locked upon his; she caught the slightest thread of concern weaved into the blackness of his gaze, and cleared her throat.

"His condition is worsening." She said softly, her voice suppressed into a routine, businesslike monotone. "Two days ago he knew who I was, and now he can't recall ever seeing me before. It's the same for Lieutenant Maria Ross, who has been helping me." Though her voice was steady, her face betrayed the pain behind her words.

"So he isn't retaining anything that he learns."

"Exactly. He…" Riza swallowed, putting a casual hand to her forehead, her brow furrowing. She cleared her throat once more. "He keeps mentioning something though, every time I see him. Repeating himself."

"What is it?" Roy asked, intrigued.

"He can't place a name for it." she replied; her voice grew stronger after the prime focus of the conversation seemed to move off of Alphonse's condition. "After he gets over the initial shock of meeting me all over again, and I've explained why he's there, he starts talking about a creature he saw once. He said that it was small, with coarse, matted hair, thin, covered in blood. He said that it screamed for a long time, sending shivers down his spine, prickling his skin, and setting his heart afire with fear, before finally dying. A scream that was so tortured, it couldn't be human." She paused, mulling over what she had just said and waiting for the Colonel to digest it. Her words were straight, honest, and frightening, and sounding macabre repeating them from the lips of a child.

"He said that there was a look in its eyes that was so full of pain that it physically hurt to look at it. A look so sorrowful that it broke your heart with just a glance; that its eyes glowed red as blood. He said that if looking upon it was so painful, feeling it must have been so horrible that it had to play a factor in its death." She continued, trying to remember exactly what he had said. "He was horrified that he had killed it, and he started getting violent. That was all he could remember, and he says the same thing, in the same words every day."

There was a long moment of silence. Roy was thinking, despite his futile attempt to quell the thoughts spurred by the words that Riza had spoken. He had stiffened; his back was as straight as a board, his face taut and more ashen than it typically was. He put a hand to his forehead, resting his fingers between his eyes, brow furrowing.

Roy's face had taken on a look that she had never seen before. A strange gleam had spattered across his eyes, like red paint being thrust at a black canvas, spraying it with impressionistic drops. It was a look that was so very vulnerable, as though it was a weakness, a slight flaw in a security system; the point of entry for a clever thief. The thief in Roy's eyes was pain, clever and intense. From even a glance, Riza knew that Roy had lived the pain Alphonse had spoken of; a pain that he had learned to suppress over the passage of time. His gaze was like a wound reopened, bleeding freely for the first in a long time.

"Lieutenant." His voice was like a whisper, sounding strained, abrupt. She saw him swallow hard; she focused upon his face despite how ill at ease it felt to do so.

"Yes, sir?" she responded habitually.

"Do you know what that thing Alphonse spoke of was?"

The question was one that she had expected, but had no reply for. Scouring her brain for a worthy answer, she found none. All that rested in her mind was empty space, riddled over with confusion and doubt. She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly.

"No, sir." Roy's lips twitched into an aggrieved smile, his eyes lowering to a close. She stared at him, unsure how to react to his demeanor. His deep voice came as a whisper, soft as the wind, but with the force of a storm:

"I wish I didn't, either."

Edward had walked for about an hour, munching greedily on an apple, spitting seeds at the side of the road as he flipped pages in his thin guide book. He had thought long and hard about the information he'd been given and had drawn his own conclusions regarding Glyph.

'Everyone who knew this guy says he just up and disappeared one day, whereas the military claims that he retired and moved to Dovries where he died forging this thing.' Edward thought, turning a page with a roll of golden eyes, annoyance evident. 'You can count on the military for a bullshit happy ending.'

Judging from how long he had walked, he figured that he would reach this cave soon. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find there; research, a leftover alchemic lab, or just empty space? Perhaps the mere satisfaction of coming so far by arriving at a final destination? Or the thrill that he was almost there, just baby-steps from finding the answer, from saving his brother, from at last fixing what he had broken.

Edward's face was determined, set in an upturned expression, trying to stay as upbeat as he could, for somehow, he felt that the hardest part of the journey was at the end. A constant thought bothered him, though, poking ever so slightly at the back of his mind. The quantities of the items that he needed. There was no way he could get that much carbon from anything. Or sodium, ammonia, lime… water, maybe. But otherwise, it would be very difficult to obtain them. Edward's face grew tight; another piece of the puzzle didn't fit quite right.

Fifty?

'Fifty what?' he thought. He sighed, exasperated. 'Note to self: Make Sciezka explain everything twice, so the first time I sleep through it, I get it the second time.' This really was his own fault for not paying attention, but he would be the last to admit it. He wondered vaguely how Alphonse was doing; his face broke into a smile. Under Riza's care, he was fine, and probably improving, he told himself positively. Seeing Alphonse remember him, see his face and smile, was something to look forward to if anything.

In the distance, Edward could see a ravine approaching steadily as he walked. He noted with pleasure the city limits, exactly where Dominique told him. He started off down the ravine, footing steady and sure, soles of his shoes gripping the rocky terrain as he slung his bag over his shoulder. Edward bent his legs and slid down the ravine edge, grinning as his hair whipped back. At the bottom of the valley, he saw a deep hole in the walls of rock; exactly what he was looking for.

Edward flung from the side of the wall that he had slid down on, flipping over and landing on his feet like a cat directly in front of the cave entrance. It was your typical cave; dark, spooky, probably bat infested, with his luck. He swallowed hard and entered gingerly, keeping his head cool and collected.

His eyes scanned the walls, searching rapidly for any sign of alchemic arrays, but he wasn't able to make out much in the dim light. Edward clapped his hands together and pressed them against the walls of the cave; small, lime green lights ran along the edge of the cave, similar to those he had once seen in Laboratory 5 back in Central. The memory of the place sent a chill down his spine, but he walked on.

Edward had begun to go deep into the cave, finding that his lights weren't necessary as he moved back, to his surprise. Startlingly, a light source seemed to radiate from a dead end. Edward stepped back, jaw dropping unexpectedly.

'No… way…'

The walls were lined with arrays, all drawn rapidly, hurriedly, in a dark crimson mark by rough hands, stains running down the walls from before the material had dried. Roy had been right; the arrays were intricate and confusing, but only one truly interested him. In the center of the cave, there was a light; a pure, white, light that gleamed lucidly in the shape of a small stone. At its base, there was a giant array, drawn sloppily in the same red tincture, the design large and complex.

The Omega.

Edward made a dash for it; he raced to the base of the stone and reached out a trembling hand, the automail in his fingers rattling as they quaked against one another. From the second his hand touched the stone, the automail rattled warningly, the white light shocking him and blasting his hand away.

'The catch is, the stone can only be used by the alchemist who forges it'

The Colonel's smug voice rang in Edward's head; his face was set in a perturbed scowl.

'Damn Mustang.' He thought, annoyed. 'Fine. I'll just do it myself.' But it was easier said than done. The proportions were still ghastly, and he had no way of collecting them all. The way of which they were arranged was very familiar; all of these properties found a home in one source, but Edward couldn't remember from where, or how he could produce so much from it.

"Having some trouble?"

Edward spun around, clapping his hands together instinctively, the transmuted bladestaff appearing. He waved it threateningly at the darkness behind him; the Omega's light cast shadows upon the intruder.

"Who are you?" Edward demanded, trying to mask the fear in his tone. A low chuckle was his reply.

"It must be hard to get all the required materials, isn't it?" the voice said lightly, dismissing his question. "But then, you're just a child."

"If I was just a child, why would I set myself on a wild goose chase to forge the single most powerful thing in all of alchemy besides the Philosopher's stone?" Edward snapped back, holding his arm steady. Who was this freak?

"Ahh… so the child has a mind." He breathed, voice coming as a whisper. "I impressed. I can tell you, you know."

"Tell me what." It was a statement more so than a question. Edward's voice was hard, level, despite the fear that threatened to tilt it. Another low chuckle from the shadowed silhouette.

"I can tell you how to get that amount of materials. And you need not give me a thing." Golden eyes widened with a snap.

"Tell me!" he lost control of his tone, eagerness overflowing in his haste to know, arm losing aim on its target. Alphonse's face flashed like fire through his mind.

'So… close…'

"Think of this." The man breathed. "If you notice, these numbers are drastically smaller than the ones required to forge the Omega. What one source contains: thirty five liters of water, twenty kilograms of carbon, four liters of ammonia, one point five kilograms of lime, eight hundred grams of phosphorus, two hundred fifty grams of salt, one hundred grams of saltpeter, eighty grams of sulfur, seven point five grams of fluorine, five grams of iron, three grams of silicon and 15 other elements in small quantities?"

Edward was confused; this was no answer, it was just another question. A particularly simple on at that.

"That number of elements is found in one average, adult human body." Edward replied, standoffishly. "What kind of cheap ploy are you pulling on me?" he snapped.

"That one source holds all of those materials, right?" The man replied, again disregarding his question. Edward stared at him with the purest of contempt.

"Yeah. So what!"

"How many more humans would you need to suit that quantity?" the man croaked, a chilling laugh sending shivers down Edward's spine. He thought over the numbers in his head before replying.

"Around…" Golden eyes constricted rapidly; sweat slid down his face like rain down a windowpane; he suddenly felt very cold, his breath coming in short, painful gasps.

"Around what, Fullmetal Alchemist?" came the voice, tantalizingly taunting him. Edward choked on air, his chest tightening with fear, and sudden, bitter realization. His voice came as a strained, hoarse whisper:

"Fifty…!"

A/N- Don't you just love me? Tee-hee. If you saw this coming, then YAY FOR YOU! 'cause now you have to wait because I am fresh out of ideas. This is the climax, and to be frank, I have no idea as of yet what's going to happen. Aren't I just on the ball? cough as if cough Anyway, since I am the author, I'm sure it'll come to me eventually. Love the reviews, I really do, thank you so much. Also, point of fact: do you notice that every time I run out of ideas (between every chapter) I write a one shot? I am truly weird… oh well! I'll try my best to start chapter nine soon. Tune in next time for: Chapter 9- Equivalent Exchange