A/n: The concept of this drabble I liked a lot, but it just didn't come out the way I wanted, and now that I think of it I'm not sure what I wanted. Maybe I just don't feel this was written that well. Enjoy anyway. :)


In the middle of the journey of our life I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost.

Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

#26 Dear my Small and Big Master

His mother, a Xing native, and his father, born and raised in Amestris, worried for their son.

He left them at thirteen, and became a dog of the military against their wishes.

He never came back, not even to visit, they thought it was because he hated them for pushing their religious beliefs on him, trying to control his life.

But they were proven wrong when the Ishbal war came. It was a letter, battered and wrinkled from its long travels, but still intact.

The paper inside was cheap and the handwriting shook with unseen emotion.

Dear Mother and Father,

I miss you very much; it seems like eternity since I last saw you. But I suppose it was. When I first came here, when I first saw what war was really like, I realized how important life is. I planned on coming home to see you again after the war was over. I promised myself I would.

But now I must take back that promise. The things I've done, I can't face you again, I can't let you see what I've become.

It's ironic, in a disgustingly twisted sort of way, that you wanted me to be a priest isn't it?

Maybe if I ever redeem myself I'll come see you again. But I can't make any promises.

I love you,

Roy.

END