Taking a breath of air,her grandmother began to weave the forgotton story with words.
---
Month one of the Ishbal wars
Red quickly became everyone's least favorite color on the battle field.
Be it Ishbalan or soldier alike;There was just too much of it.
The tainted liquid always had a way of blodding your hands,whiether it touched you or not.
Life on the front lines was hell.
The violence,oh the violence,it spread through every camp like a sickness.
Gripping the hearts of those forced to fight in it's cold,uncareing,grasp.
Turning them into monsters;Human grim reapers.
And death,as in all wars,was a common occurance.
But it didn't mean it would ever be considered 'normal' by the people who actually carried out the murderous task.
The soldiers,especially true for those in the Amestris military,knew this only to well.
Once they pulled the trigger,
Thrust the sword,
Completed the transmutation,
They would forever loose a part of themselves.
And due to this,Roy Mustang lost himself many,many times.
Sorry for the short chapter,but I think it will have a more dramatic empasis now that I broke chapter 2 into two seperate parts! Please review,i'd like to know how i'm doing!
