(A/n: Just a quick AU double drabble. Gah, stupid plotbunnies.)
It was raining again. Edward Elric didn't notice the damp. He was too busy pouring over an ancient manuscript. It only had twenty-one pages, but the trickle of alchemical knowledge in them was enough to make him recall memories of another world, another life.
"Monsieur Flamel," called someone from the door. That was the name he was going by, a bastardized version of his old title. It made a good enough cover, since Fullmetal would be too exotic. The very English name of Edward had nearly gotten him killed when he first arrived, so that too had changed. Nicholas Flamel, inkeep, scribe and alchemist.
"Come." he said, finally looking up from his work. The ancient language was hard to decipher, but he could use a break. The dim light of the tired candle strained his eyes.
The door creaked open. Ed looked up. The figure was tall and well built with sandy hair and clear amber eyes. He recognized him even before he spoke and at once lost all interest in his work. In his haste to reach the visitor, he nearly knocked over the desk with his bad leg.
"Alphonse!"
"I finally found you, brother. I knew I would."
(A/n: Nicholas Flamel was well before World War II, but I'm just tweaking the timelines a little. Instead of the 1940s, Ed finds himself in the middle ages. Flamel was an actual alchemist, and he lived in Paris. In fact, his house is still there, a short walk from the Centre Pompeidu. Feel free to comment, I could use the CC. It's been a while and I think I'm just a wee bit rusty.)