A/N: Welcome to 2017, dear readers. One of my resolutions is to write more... which includes this. Hopefully, I'll be able to update at least once a month at the very least. I'm so sorry for leaving you all hanging, and I know I say this every time, but I'm being honest when I say I'll do my damned best to update more often. As always, reviews are always appreciated but never required. I hope you all are doing well, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

Karla traversed the wilderness between the fort and North City with little effort. Despite the fact there seemed to be nothing but an expanse of snow around her, the weather was actually quite decent today, with no sign of a blizzard in sight. At least she was lucky in one aspect… Yet her thoughts were lost, all focused on the impending battle she was about to get thrown into. How was she supposed to do this? She hadn't even as much been involved in any small skirmishes with Drachma yet, and at this point she'd only been in the military for two, maybe three months at most. Here she was, though, getting thrown headfirst into a war she knew almost nothing about. She'd never even heard of Ishval before that conversation with Major Miles!

Wait… Major Miles. He'd mentioned something… Karla's heart suddenly fell. That was right. He'd said he was a quarter Ishvalan. These were his people Karla was being sent to fight… Oh, damn it. If she'd thought of that sooner, she would have fought harder to try and get out of it!

I just won't fight any of them. Orders be damned.

She reached North City in little time, and made a beeline straight for the train station. There was the typical bustle of people, but she ignored them, even the ones who gave her suspicious stares. These people were of little concern to her. She couldn't let them bother her, she couldn't let the murmuring get to her…

"How did a Drachman get into the military?"

"They've gone soft, that's how. The Fuhrer'll take anyone these days."

"Don't worry. Soon enough they'll round up all the Drachmans here just like they're doing with the Ishvalans."

Karla felt rage kindle within her as she made her way to the train station, as words and sentences began to reach her. She had to bite back her retorts, however; she was a soldier, a model for the people. She couldn't anger anyone as she had before when they'd insulted her. That would just serve to lower the military's reputation even further. But, wait… The military was rounding up Ishvalans? That meant they would be going after Major Miles… no. Karla had a damn good feeling Armstrong wouldn't let him leave. He was safe at Briggs… hopefully.

She entered the train station, moving amidst the crowd of people to the ticket booth. The ticketmaster informed her that the military had informed them that state alchemists would be passing through, and all it took for her to gain a ticket was one display of her pocketwatch. Once she had her ticket, she looked down to see that the next train to Central wouldn't arrive for another hour and a half. Great. On top of however many days it would take to reach whatever the closest station to Ishval was… this was going to be one long trip. What would she do until the train to Central got here, though?

Something had to be wrong with her. Calling her mother was the first option to pop forth in her mind. Well, she hadn't talked to her since the day she'd left for Central… and since she had time to waste and a few cenz in her pocket, it didn't sound like all that bad of an idea. She stood from where she'd been seated on a bench and went to the nearest payphone.

The other line only rang once before Liesel Chernikova's voice sounded. "Hello, this is Liesel."

"Hello, Mother," Karla said, leaning against one side of the booth.

"Karla!" Her mother's voice was overjoyed, and Karla very nearly admitted to herself that she'd missed this. She didn't have an awful relationship with her mother by any means, but she'd always gotten along better with her father. "I'd thought you'd forgotten about me! It's been two months — I had expected a call sooner than this."

"Yes, well, there isn't very easy access to phones at the fort," Karla replied, suppressing a sigh. "I just figured I should check in, since I'm waiting for a train at the moment."

"A train? Karla, are you being sent home already? I know you have a habit of letting your mouth run away from you, but I thought you would have tamed that! Where are you stationed?"

The alchemist really did let out a sigh this time. She should have known her mother would react like this as soon as she said something. "No, Mother, I'm not being sent home. I'm stationed at Fort Briggs, on the northern border, but I'm being shipped down to Ishval since they're sending state alchemists to the front lines now."

There was silence on the other end, and for a moment Karla thought her mother had hung up the phone. "Are they ridiculous?" Liesel finally exclaimed. "Sending an inexperienced eighteen-year-old to fight in their war for them? What the hell are they thinking? Who's your commanding officer? Why didn't you fight it? I have half a mind to go to Northern Command right now!"

"My commanding officer didn't issue the order," Karla shot back, her irritation quickly rising. "It came straight from the Fuhrer himself. That's why I didn't fight it, and Northern Command isn't going to do anything about it. No one can overrule the Fuhrer, Mother. That's what the position means."

"I am not going to be content to sit back hoping my only daughter doesn't get slaughtered!" her mother snapped. Yes, there was that temper of hers. "This is exactly why I didn't want you joining the military! Did you know only now they sent a squad to Virnikov? It was about a month ago, and I told them to leave! We don't need military presence here! They've never bothered helping us before!"

Karla sighed again as Liesel continued on her tirade. She almost wished she was talking to her father instead — at least he would let her get a word or two in. God only knew where he was at this point, though, or if he was even alive. Yes, that was something she hoped to accomplish during her time in the military: finding her father and bringing him back to Amestris.

The sound of a train reached her suddenly, and she peered out of the booth to see it arriving. Well, this was surprisingly early… "Right, Mother," she said, cutting in, "I have to leave. The train's arrived."

Liesel sighed. "All right. You'd better be careful, Karla. Come back alive. I love you."

"I'll come back alive, don't worry," she replied, watching the platform to see when it would start loading. "I love you too, Mother." Once she'd hung up the phone, she darted over to the platform, where she handed her ticket to the conductor and climbed on. Ignoring the passengers climbing on behind her, she walked until she reached the seat that was the farthest back in the car. Karla sat in it — and it certainly wasn't the must comfortable of seats; the cushion beneath her was somehow simultaneously lumpy and flat — and slipped a hand in her pocket, her fingers wrapping over the warm steel that was her pocketwatch. It was somehow comforting, having it with her. It was as if it was becoming another anchor for her, serving the same function her dagger did.

Only a few minutes later, the train began its rumble, signifying its departure. Karla glanced around for a moment, noticing she was alone in the back of the car. The other passengers had elected to sit more in the middle and the front, which was fine with her. She preferred it that way.

As the train moved, Karla hunched over in her seat a bit, carefully drawing her dagger from its sheath to examine it. She could tell it had originally been intended as some sort of decorative weapon at one point, but years of use had marred its ivory handle, and the decorative silver at the base of the blade had begun to wear away with time. The blade itself was double-edged, ending in a point, and around the middle of the blade there was a word scratched on in Drachman: sosul'ka. Icicle. The name of the dagger, which had originally been her father's. What had he said this weapon was called? The word kinzhal popped up in Karla's mind, and she nodded to herself. Yes, that was what it was called. She vaguely wondered where he had gotten it. It had been his primary weapon as an assassin, and he had gifted it to her when she'd turned thirteen. She had always wondered why he'd given her a knife like this, especially since her mother had been vehemently against it, but considering her father had also taught her how to fight… perhaps he'd known Karla would embark on something as ambitious as a military career at some point in her life. What a strange thought.

She sheathed Icicle, sliding it carefully back into its scabbard, then leaned back in her seat and stared out the window. The countryside raced by at a swift pace, but she was more concentrated in her own thoughts. What the hell was she doing here? She could have all but avoided this if she hadn't become a state alchemist. But of course, she'd decided to go with the only thing she had any talent for… and now she was being sent to kill people whose only crime seemed to be looking different from everyone else. What the hell kind of solution was that? How would she be able to face Miles ever again after this? What was she supposed to do, go up to him and say, "Hey, I'm sorry I killed some of your people, can we still get along"? She sighed, shaking her head. This was ridiculous. This was something that probably never needed to happen.

Karla sighed again, letting her eyes gaze over the countryside. This was going to be one long trip.

A couple of days later, the train pulled into Central Station. The pulling to a stop startled Karla, who raised her head quickly and blinked. Damn, she'd fallen asleep again… She didn't know why, but she hated falling asleep on train rides. Perhaps it was the fact that the train was in constant motion, even though the ride itself was relatively smooth. Or perhaps it was the fact that it was an unfamiliar place, or even that she didn't enjoy sleeping sitting up. Oh well. It had happened, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Karla departed the train, amazed once again at how much busier this station was than the previous. It just seemed to drive home the fact that Central was one busy place. It was a damn good thing she didn't live here; she'd go insane with all the people around.

"Where am I supposed to go now?" she muttered, leaving the platform. "Where's Ishval supposed to be?" She remembered Miles having said something about it being in the eastern part of the country… but how east was east? Southeast? Northeast, which meant she'd taken the wrong train? "Damn it. The least they could have done was give me directions. It's not like I know the whole country." She sighed in irritation, glancing around the station for some clue as to where to go. None of the people in this station looked even remotely military, however, so she had to give in and go to the ticket booth.

"Excuse me," she said once she had approached it. "I need to ask: Which train is going towards Ishval?"

The seller raised an eyebrow. "That train is only for military personnel," he replied.

"Yes, and I happen to be military," Karla shot back. "Do I really look like I'm wearing this for my own enjoyment?"

The man then sighed. "It's the farthest platform down. You seem to be the last, though. Better hurry, it's due to leave soon."

"Thank you." Karla departed the ticket booth, quickly running through the station until she reached the farthest platform. Flashing her pocketwatch at the conductor, she climbed on, and it was only a matter of time before she'd sat down and the train pulled out of the station. She proceeded to direct her attention out the window as the scenery began to race by, but she wasn't really seeing it. Her mind was far away, more specifically on this war she had been thrust into.

She hadn't even known there was a war going on. Not until Miles had told her. How had she not heard about it? Not even Central had mentioned it when she'd enlisted. Karla thought if this war was that important, and since she was a state alchemist, she would have been officially briefed on it before now... but this only sprung another question to mind: if they had been so intent on hiding this in Central - because clearly they had been -, what else was the military hiding? She didn't think that in a military-governed country such as this, things like that would be kept secret from their own forces.

Then there was the matter she really did not want to think about: the killing of the Ishvalans. They would order her to destroy them without a second thought. How in the hell was she supposed to do that? She'd never killed anyone in her life. She'd gotten into fights before, yes, but she had never killed anyone. Not even all the times Drachman soldiers had invaded Virnikov. And of course, now she was being ordered to aid in the destruction of hundreds of innocent people. What crime had they committed to warrant all this? She couldn't do this... but she knew what the consequence would be if she refused. She wouldn't be able to go back and face the general if she backed down, and staying on her good side was something Karla was focused on. At the same time, though... Karla groaned, holding her head in her hands. What the hell was she supposed to do?

I won't fight them.

She'd decided this earlier. If she could just evade the watch of whoever the commanding officer was... who was it again? Someone named... Fessler? Yes, that sounded right. If she could evade Fessler's watch, maybe she could help some of them to escape...

That would be considered treason.

Yes, but did she really care? To most, her very existence was considered treason. But then again... she'd enlisted to change that. God damn it, why was this so difficult for her?

She muttered a curse in Drachman, raising her head to stare out the window again. These were people like her, cursed to live lives of discrimination and hatred because they were born differently than the other citizens of this country.

This damned country.