.1 The Daughter of Slave 44

"That which is done in love is always beyond good and evil." ~Friedrich Nietzsche

…

Slave Forty-four wasn't what you'd call an average Xerxes girl. For starters she didn't share their golden coloring, instead her hair was a soft auburn and her eyes a dark ruby. Almost the opposite of the golden hair and eyes of the people around her. She stood out like a sore thumb, an exotic beauty, or so they'd say. It was what had made her so attractive to her current master.

The alchemist was almost like a father too her by this point. He'd taken her in when she was young and cared for her. But she wasn't content in this life. After all no matter what he did, she was still only slave Forty-four. A number, not a name, just a two digit identification number. It wasn't a life she was happy with. But there wasn't really much she could do about.

Until her master brought home slave number Twenty-three. A young man, in his late teens early twenties. From what the girl who had been settled with household chores and upkeep had gathered Twenty-three was to be his new apprentice.

Forty-four hated him almost instantly. He was abrasive and rather dense, in her humble opinion he lacked the proper skill set to be an apprentice to the great Alchemist of Xerxes. But also she was reluctant to admit that she was almost jealous of him. She'd been with the master for so long, she was smarter than Twenty-three, why hadn't he just chosen her.

She could have been a great apprentice, if only her master had given her the chance. Forty-four only wanted the chance to prove herself. Perhaps in time she would.

Slave Twenty-three was absolutely smitten with the copper haired girl, despite all her attempts to push him aside and belittle him. She was something else entirely. Forty-four was no doubt a strange girl, but he found her oddities rather charming. Unlike him she could already read and write, and understood most of the concepts their master studied (he'd seen the look on her face anytime their master went off on tangents around them), so he never really understood why their master had chosen him over her. It was obvious to him that she would have been a better choice.

Although he kept that thought to himself, since he was in fact grateful for this chance. It meant he could do something with his life. He wasn't going to be bound to being a slave forever. Unlike Forty-four. She was always going to be in their master's debt.

He spent a lot of time cleaning the master study. The alchemist thought that if Twenty-three spent more time around all the books and pages he'd be more susceptible to picking up the material later. Sometimes Forty-four was their too, she spent a lot of time cleaning, well everything. Their master while brilliant wasn't the neatest of people.

It was one of those days following their master's latest creation that they were both in the study for whichever reason at the same time. Forty-four had taken to organizing their master's notes by category while he swept around them. On this day, both of their lives changed forever.

Twenty-three had taken a moment to sit on one of the crates resting his eyes for a moment. Forty-four was just about to go shake him when all the sudden there was a strange voice calling their attention. "Young man, young man." The blond slave startled awake giving a slight gasp of panic, the girl on the other hand just stared. Her eyes comically wide and rather confused.

Forty-four needed a moment to regain her senses. She'd never seen anything like it in her entire time living with the alchemist. A talking speck, how unusual. She gave Twenty-three credit then, he didn't even seem phased. Apparently the talking black speck didn't like that as the next words out of his mouth were rather put out. "Couldn't you at least act surprised. The girl at least seems to be."

"What do I get for acting surprised?" Twenty-three questioned, not even turning to look a Forty-four who had wondered over to stand next to him.

The talking speck seemed pleased by that somehow and went so far as to ask Twenty-three his name. Forty-four snorted, as if the idea of them having names was comical to her. Twenty-three glanced sideways at her before focusing his attention to the flask. "I'm number Twenty-three." The speck sighs then.

"Not your number, I want you to tell me your real name." Forty-four can't help herself anymore by the absurdity of all of this and she just laughs, before becoming somber and responding for Twenty-three.

"He's a slave, we both are. So all we have are our numbers. I'm Forty-four, our master created you." Twenty-three nodded his head in agreement to her statement.

"A slave? You mean a person without any rights or freedoms, someone trafficked and deeded as a possession?" The speck in the flask sounded curious. Twenty-three turned his head to look at Forty-four, whose expression had turned stony at that explanation.

"Deeded?" He echoed. Forty-four closed her eyes briefly, before opening them a turning a sharp glance to the flask.

"It means were nothing more than possessions, things. As slaves we have no rights, no value other than the job we were bought to do." Forty-four answers rather coldly. Twenty-three had never seen her like this. She was usually so calm and collected. But for some reason what the flask had said bothered her deeply.

"You're not all that bright are you number Twenty-three?" Twenty-three gave an indignant shout here."How could I have possibly been born from someone so stupid?" The speck in the flask continued as if he hadn't heard him. Forty-four placed a hand on Twenty-three shoulder, trying to draw her fellows slave's attention back to her. "Twenty-three we still have work to do." But as per usual she was ignored.

The speck in the flask went on about how he was here because of Twenty-three's blood and that he had to thank him for his existence somehow. "Let's see number Twenty-three and Forty-four isn't going to cut it, I think I will give you both a name of your own." Forty-four's eyes widened again this time in surprise, what? Why was she being included here? She didn't understand.

"A name, who are you?" Twenty-three seemed startled as well, but he was ignored by the speck's musing about what sort of name he'd give them. The first name the flask speaks is long, noble, and is far too long for Twenty-three. Forty-four has to hide a laugh at her partner's confused tone and the flask disappointed sounding tone that follows.

"That's right, you're not that smart. Perhaps we shouldn't put to many syllables in it." Twenty-three gave another yell in protest. Forty-four couldn't help but to snicker at him. Idiot.

"Ah, yes I got it. How about Van, Van Hohenheim. How does that sound?" Twenty-three seemed to think on it for a minute. Van Hohenheim, he liked the way that sounded. He gave a nod to the flask.

"So Van Hohenheim, alright I think I can remember that." The speck seemed pleased by that. "It's spelled-" he paused their as if something just occurred to him/it?. "-oh, you don't know how to read and write do you?" Twenty- no Van Forty-four reminded herself protested there too.

"I don't need to read to do my work." Forty-four was certain that if the speck had facial features they would be rather exasperated in appearance. If the things tone was anything to go by.

"Your slave work, don't you even want to be free?" Forty-four would have given anything to be free. She hated being a slave and she knew for a fact that so did her fellow slave. No person alive ever wanted to be merely someone's possession. The speck in the flask continued with his line of questioning aimed at Van, as if he'd forgotten she was even there or that he said he would give her a name.

"In that case you are no different from me, stuck inside this stuffy flask. Let me teach you Van Hohenheim." Forty-four could have almost screamed, she wanted to learn too, she wanted to be free.

"What are you? Who are you? What do I call you?" The dark speks appearance suddenly changed, morphing into a strange orb with a singular eye, two long tendril for arms, with an uncanny and frightening smile Forty-four had ever seen. It scared her.

"I'll tell you want Van Hohenheim. You can call me the Drawf in the flask homunculus." The little creature paused then before shifting his single eye over to her as if it had just remembered her presence.

"You've been so quiet girl that I almost forgotten about you. Say what did you say your name was again?" Forty-four took a deep breath gulping a bit for air. She all the sudden was feeling rather self-conscious and nervous. The slave girl didn't like the look the creature was giving her in the slightest.

"I don't have a name, only a number. It's forty-four." She ducked her head down then, embarrassed. No one had ever paid so much attention to her, or looked at her like that. It was unnerving.

"Hmm.. no that just won't do. From now on you shall be Elizabeth Brahe. You shall also be my apprentice, there is something different about you." Forty-four looked back up then, she stuttered out a small thank you before quickly exiting the room.

The dwarf in the flask smirked once both of the humans had left him. How easy they had been to manipulate. With two of them, his plans would come together much more efficiently.

…

Elizabeth Barhe, the former slave forty-four, who had taken to being called Eliza during her time alive died a few years before the destruction of Xerxes in childbirth. A beautiful baby girl with her hair coloring but the eyes of her father who she named Katerina Von, in lue of giving the baby either one of their last names. Katerina, a toddle then, became a small fragment of a philosopher stone aside her father and escaped with him after the destruction of their home.

Hohenheim held her close to his chest as he wondered the dessert. He didn't know what was going to become of them. The voices in his head raged, and he imagined for the constant whimpering that the toddle gave something similar was going on. He'd never be able to forgive the dwarf in the flask for what he's done to them. They couldn't die, he didn't even know if they'd age. He hoped for Katerina sakes she wouldn't be bound to the body of a toddler forever. But he hadn't the slightest idea what would happen to them now.

His once bubbly and cheerful child became a hollow of herself follow the destruction of their home. She was too quiet for a child her age. Lethargic and spent most of their time wondering through the dessert in his arms, her small head buried in his shoulder blade. Hohenheim couldn't help but to notice the constant state of wet the fabric of his shirt their stayed either. He prayed that one day she would forgive him.

If it wasn't for his blood, then none of this would have ever happened.

Katerina shifted in his arms, her doe like golden eyes stared up at him. Tears welled in the corner of them but didn't fall. She leaned forward with what little strength she had and pressed a dry kiss to his bearded cheek. He held her a little tighter then, he wouldn't lose her too.

He was going to fix this. He had too.

..

More than three hundred years had passed since that time. Katerina had aged, she wasn't trapped as a small child forever. Albeit slowly, in three hundred plus years the golden eyed girl had aged a bare minimum of fifteen or so years. While her body was youthful in appearance her mind was rather old, it didn't match her physical appearance at all.

For the most part her existence with her father was simple, they drifted for the most part between the different lands. Katerina learned everything she could, she soaked knowledge up like a sponge. Her father taught her about alchemy, during the time they spent in Xing she learned about the Dragon's pulse. He helped her communicate with the souls trapped inside her body, and together they listened.

Although the circumstances of her life were dark, and depressing if thought on long enough. Katerina made the best of the long life she had been given and was determined to give back. When she told her father of this dream she had to help people, to save them, he had been reminded of her mother.

Eliza would have been proud.

After so many centuries of it just being the two of them, it was a welcome change when they met Pinako Rockbell in the year 1866. Pinako was a fiery woman, and could hold her liquor better than anyone they'd ever met. Katerina liked her instantly.

The immortal man and his slow aging daughter both became fast friends with the automel mechanic. Neither having any idea as to what this one encounter would do, and how it would change everything. Only time would tell.

In 1890 almost thirty years later Van Hohenheim met one Trisha Elric. Katerina adored her, nearly as much as her father did. They were happy. For the first time in a long time Katerina had seen her father give true smiles, he wasn't so dead on the inside anymore, his eyes not as cold. He seemed genuinely happy.

Katerina was physically about sixteen when her step-mother became pregnant a nine year age gap between herself and Trisha. The golden eyed girl knew better than to dwell on it. No matter appearance she loved Trisha as a mother all the same.

"Kat? Can you come here?" The young woman was snapped from the musing of her long life, the semi panicked tone of her step-mother catching her full attention effortlessly. Her father was out of their home for a moment, he had a matter to attend to in town and had asked Katerina to look after the heavily pregnant woman for the day.

Usually Katerina spent her time down at the Rockbell's clinic helping out as best as she could since Sara Rockbell was also currently pregnant and on bed rest. According to Pinako her daughter-in-law was having a rather hard time and this was more than likely going to be the only child she'll have. So naturally with her knowledge and desire to help others Katerina had volunteered to help Yuiry out. But today she had not gone to the clinic, Trisha was close to her due date and her father had asked her to stay. Katerina hadn't minded.

"Coming!" Katerina stood from her spot on her bed, turning her attention away from the cloudless February sky.

Trisha is holding onto the side of the kitchen counter, hunched over slightly. Her forehead glistened a bit. A pain shot through her and she bit out a small scream. Katerina was at her side almost instantly, she bit her lip and helped Trisha to the bedroom just down the hall. "Seems like your little brother is impatient." The woman mutter breathlessly, Katerina tried not to smile at the tone her stepmother had used.

She helped her to the bed, helped Trisha get comfortable before asking a few question. Katerina had to determine how much time they had before her little brother's arrival. As long as she'd been alive, in all that time she had only ever helped one woman give birth and it wasn't an experience she really wanted to repeat so soon. The painful cries of the mothers as she labored resounded within her, as it reminded her of the circumstance of her own birth and the fact that she had killed her own mother.

Katerina called Pinako once she'd gleamed everything she could about the situation from Trisha. Pinako told her to remain calm and to keep a clear head and that she'd be on her way shortly. She was lucky that Trisha's contractions were so far apart still, or else she really would be delivering a baby by herself.

Hohenheim returned home around dusk, just enough time to get his hand broken and to meet his son.

Edward Elric was born February 3rd 1899 at 7:17pm.

Katerina Von was the fourth person to hold the infant that night, once her stepmother had drifted off to sleep and after he'd been cleaned and after Hohenheim had held him for a time. Pinako was the one to gently hand him to her that evening so she could help Hohenheim fix something for them to eat for dinner as the old woman didn't trust that man in the kitchen by himself and Katerina herself was a rather useless cook.

She stared down at him small infant body, he was wrapped in a light blue blanket, and his eyes tightly closed in sleep. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Katerina felt extremely protective of him in that moment. He was so small, so fragile looking, her baby brother. All she wanted in that moment was to hide him away so no one could ever harm him.

His eyes opened suddenly, as he yawned, blinking. She remembered that newborns couldn't see very well and she probably looked like a blob of colors to him right then. But for some reason, when their eyes locked Katerina got the feeling that he looked right at her seeing her clearly. He reached up his tiny little hand grasping on to a loose strand of her hair. Katerina could only smile. "I'll protect you always, little brother. I promise." The newborn seemed to smile at her.

Katerina knew at that moment, there was nothing she wouldn't do for him.

Hohenheim smiled at his oldest child from the doorway, having witnessed her quiet declaration. He'd seen it in her eyes then. There was no doubt she was her mother's child.

XOXOX

So this is a rewrite of "Blood is Thicker than Water" as I actually have a plot for this story and whill no longer be just writing moments about it anymore. Please let me know what you think!

Thank you so much for reading.

Sincerely, La'Rae