The sun was gone from the night sky as Envy dragged Yamin through the woods, allowing the darkness and the tugging of clawlike brambles on his robes to disorient him even further, making his mind weaker and more susceptible by method of exhaustion. His eyes were only human, and his body old and frail, the journey was rough on him- by the end of it he was crying outright, his palm slippery with sweat in their icy grasp, no longer even bothering to maintain a sense of decorum. This night in all might break him- there was a chance he might never recover from what they had already done to him, and what they were going to do next. But then, he had shown surprising resilience before, so who could say?
The pair emerged into the moonlight on top of a high hill where the trees cleared away, the terrain becoming flat and rocky where the grass died and tipped into a harsh and sudden cliff; from the edge of it, one could see for miles above the treeline, watch the twinkling lights of the mining town and the tops of the faraway mountains. One could also take a single misstep and go plummeting to certain mortal death, body gaining speed as it tumbled down the sheer rock face to break on the treetops below. It was here, in the barren ground of this high place, where they had carved the circle; etching it deep into the stone with claws as hard as diamond and as sharp as obsidian, ensuring that there would be no mistakes, that the transmutation would be perfect and strong. The creation of an ideal human body- one disinclined to illness, or injury, or death.
"Here we are," they said to Yamin, but they weren't focusing on him so much anymore. The hood of their fabricated Ishvalan robes had fallen back, their hair flying free in the rising wind, and with all of this and the way their cold skin gleamed in the moonlight they were sure they looked like a devil- or a deity- to human eyes. From a sheltered spot in the brush they pulled a bag, a heavy thing that weighed nothing to them, and they took it to the middle of the circle to begin compiling the ingredients there- salt, saltpeter, sulfur, silicon...
"Those are...what you said, right?" Yamin spoke weakly, his breath still out of control, and they ignored his question, focusing on exacting the measurements with their superior vision. He knelt with them, watching with dull eyes as they completed the task, a quiet acceptance in his demeanour.
"Why am I even here?" he asked after a while, and they shot him a sharp look in reply, their impatience starting to make them careless.
"You're here for Karyme, of course. And I can't do this alone. I'm not an alchemist- you know that." Yes, remind him of before, what they had been to him in the darkness of his solitary tent at night, how warm and comfortable their companionship had been then. How horrible and bizarre this day must be to him, how fast everything had happened, going to bed as normal only to wake with people tearing down the door and desecrating his home, all in the name of someone he had thought was a dear friend. And then, being dragged here, everything new and strange and out of routine...
They wet their teeth with their tongue and emptied out the last ingredient into the pile, tipping over a large jug of water to turn the chemically-scented dust into a sluice, the liquids pooling in the lines they had carved, ensuring that the transmutation would be pure.
Is this how you want it, Kimblee?
Yes, this is perfect. I'm sure it will work out fine.
Perhaps they were being a little reckless, the two of them, human transmutation of any kind was a delicate and finicky task, but then, that was what Yamin was there for- he would swallow the risks. He would bear the brunt of the burden, as he had to, Envy had never been capable of alchemy and even with Kimblee's soul inside them the task was beyond their powers, the well only ever drawing up empty, the energy unresponsive to inhuman hands- as animals could not perform transmutations, nor plants or inanimate objects, the homunculi could not either (beyond their particular gifts of course). But they had never cared for nor needed it before, and they did not need it now. Alchemists were often lonely things, and the lonely were always the easiest to manipulate, so who dared ever tell Envy that they couldn't get what they wanted?
Yamin sat back on the edge of the circle, still moving sluggishly, his mind and body both too tired to resist anymore. His emotions were no doubt worn thin, and he seemed to be entering the sort of mindset that humans got when beyond the point of exhaustion; the dull and passive state of acceptance, where all that was desired was for someone else to say what would happen next. It was a dangerous way to be, in the end, and a fault in the human condition that many exploited. But as he looked at the circle there was a touch of intelligence in his eyes, a degree of the scientist in him activating, finding advancement beyond anything he had ever dreamed of in his little tent within the lines and symbols they had carved. Perhaps, had the day been different, he would have asked all of the questions a true alchemist would have asked, pursued them instead of letting them fizzle out into nothing within his mind. All questions, save one, which in a last-minute need for comfort it seemed he could not resist:
"This is going to work, isn't it?" he said, his dull eyes coming up to meet theirs. Behind his irises there was a deep and ingrained grief, bubbling to the surface for all to see in his weakness, his raw emotions reaching out to them like a child would for their mother.
"You're not lying to me, are you?" How fragile he sounded then. This was the climactic moment of his life, all of his piteous sorrows and trials and misadventures leading here, another victim of the world, spun off course. The god Ishvala, if such a thing existed, would no doubt weep from its point in the heavens to see a sight like this. If it was supposed to be up there- perhaps they were confusing mythologies, thinking of Leto or the ancient cloud-squatting pantheons of Xerxes, such things all blended together in their mind. They were all only fabrications, poor justifications for the quality of emotions they saw flickering in Yamin's eyes now.
"No."
This they replied to his question, gaze meeting his evenly and without hesitation; no, they were not lying. And he believed them.
Humans were foolish to think that speaking one single word, one syllable, was somehow harder than constructing false identities or spinning webs of deception to ensnare the soul; it was strange to think that a simple 'yes' or 'no' was somehow harder to fake, as though the human condition made plain-faced and outright lies impossible. Scalding the tongue or flickering in the eyes, like the listener could tell when such statements were made in untruth. But they had no such qualms and nothing in them gave anything away.
So Yamin nodded, giving in, inhaling deeply through his nose and letting his eyes fill with tears again, a nectar of fatigue and sorrow and also great joy, for now he completely believed that soon he would see his beloved wife again-
-and well, who were they to claim it was a lie, one way or another perhaps he would-
-and he placed his palms to the edge of the circle, mirroring Envy's position opposite him, reaching down into wherever alchemists went when they sought to do such things, and the transformation began.
White light, tinted faintly with blue, pure and clean and earth-driven as natural transmutations were. Good magic, at first.
Envy let Kimblee move forward in their body, channeling his soul through their arms and the palms of their hands (the sensation, which was almost like control, bordered on erotic), guiding the transmutation to his specifications. He blocked Yamin's weaker will from the circle with his calm steel force, pushing aside the other man's vision of dark-skinned and delicate womanhood, for such a dream was vague and fragile and likely to convolute itself anyway; he knew what he was supposed to look like, his mind's eye had always been clearer than most, and this image was what he imposed upon the transmutation to make the generic ingredients reshape themselves into the desired form. Envy could feel the stone ground heating up beneath their body, Kimblee swirling wildly through their bloodstream, the tension in the air rising, crisping, the world narrowing down to the top of the hill and nothing more, everything beginning to taste a little of lightning, stretching to the point where the energy could not sustain itself without breaking-
-and when it did, the light turned red.
Envy heard Yamin cry out over the roaring of the earth and wind, the terrible rejection from nature of what was occurring there- the light shone too brightly, strong and evil light, as red as their heart was and redder than human blood. They couldn't see well, but they also couldn't lift their hands to cover their eyes, their palms were stuck to the stone and the air around them seemed to be burning, the ozone smell overpowering and searing on their tongue. Dark hands reached up from the ground, grasping feebly at the overcharged air, undulating like plants from the bottom of the ocean, boneless and insane. They could feel Kimblee rigid inside them, holding on tight to the energy to prevent it from bucking out of his control, from exploding the way he usually wished. It was strange how they felt almost helpless here, they had never stood so close to a transmutation, never really been a part of one, not like this-
The Gate opened in the rockface before them, taking the shape of the Great Eye, staring mindlessly up at the night sky and reflecting in the moon overhead. What toll would it demand from the alchemist? They could have chosen to waive it, using their core instead, but why would they waste something so precious and time-consuming to create to spare him? Let him see what it would show him, and take what it would. They saw the arms reach for Yamin, given sudden direction and purpose, taking him in to wherever it took those people and the pressure in the air now was almost suffocating.
In the next few moments the world became a wash before their eyes, blurring to sparks of grey and red without shape or distinction, the energy too much now for even their mind to compute. It took everything they had not to pass out, Kimblee holding down the transmutation by only a thread. Was it working? Was everything forming as they wanted it to? They had no way of knowing, they hadn't thought that the experience would be this intense-
And in the same instant it was over, the heat and light and terrible power suddenly cut out, the Eye sealed back into its other plain of existence and the grasping dark fingers gone, all the light and sound reverting back into nature as nature would have it.
Their breathing was heavy in their ears and they were half blind, the brightness leaving imprints on their eyes, the ground cooling rapidly beneath their palms. Kimblee was shaking similarly inside them, his soul somehow reverberating against their core. Yamin was silent.
They blinked rapidly to clear their vision, standing clumsily to stumble forth, reaching for the center of the circle for what they had made there…
Kimblee?