Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Arakawa Hiromu-sensei, Square Enix and recently, Viz. I earn no profit in this.

Notes: This is an alternate universe story set in a semi-medieval setting. Please bear with me if it seems strange at first.

Please do not rely on me for accuracy of the information I mention in this story. Some are real to the best of my knowledge, while others are purely fictional to fit the FMA story.

This chapter was revised and rewritten on the 26th of June, 2007.

Blind Enemy

It's true when they say that what you don't know can't hurt you. But when you do find you, it hurts million times more.

oOo

'So this is what it feels like to watch a true genius at work,' Roy thought. There were worldly alchemists out there and in the military, but although they were undoubtedly good, Edward Elric was something else entirely. The 15-year-old practically inhaled the resources given to him; leather books ranging from basic to advanced theory alchemy, medical and deconstruction alchemy, the science of chemistry, physics and biology. He went through the books conclusively, only stopping occasionally to take a break and drink a mug of cocoa while reading the blurb on the unread books, sorting them and his notes. His eyes scanned the pages not only with speed gained from practice and familiarity with the text, but also a burning hunger for knowledge.

Roy wondered if he was actually absorbing it all. Was that even possible? But his doubt was once again, like his doubt of Ed's capacity at his age, evaporated when Ed was given his first job. He hadn't been properly taught the requirements for dealing with mythicals just yet, nor the practical combat formations, so Ed's job was simply to translate a few segments from a newly discovered archive of ancient Ishvarian literature. He had been given a large box of dictionaries and other resources to aid him. He also had a fortnight to get it done. Roy expected him to stay amongst the musty smell of books in the library for a while. As it was his first job, he military had given him a bit of extra time, but it was still a tight schedule.

Edward Elric handed the translated segments in 2 days, compete with footnotes and references to books of all sorts but the ones he was provided with. The box of dictionaries and other books was also sent back in the same condition they were when they had been sent. When asked, Ed had brushed the books off as "Elementary and useless."

He could sometimes be the most immature brat, yet other times he was the one the military had begun to turn to for confirmation of alchemical details. But despite all of Edward's well-deserved praise, there was something… off about him. Since he was obviously not going to get any answers from Ed (God knows he's tried) the next best alternative was to ask around the Tower. Roy didn't like being kept in the dark- especially when the military was involved.

"He's cursed. Didn't you know?" one child said.

"I heard that he's really mean. Someone said that Ed killed the nice pet the lab had," a blond boy named Mike said.

"Ed's nice. He doesn't talk much, but he listens to people," a sweet girl named Julia said.

"Ed used to be nice but after Al left, he turned all prickly. Al was always the one who stopped the fights," another child said.

"I heard some man took Al in to be his apprentice in magic," said yet another.

By the end of the day, Roy had heard just about everything… and it was hurting his head.

None of it made sense.

Nearly all of the 'information' was in either in the, "someone told him who told me" format or, "it was told by my friend who was told by his/her friend" format. Roy ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and asked for the tenth time that day how Hughes manages to do this daily. But then again, the central intelligence department probably didn't interview brats.

The only clear facts he had gleaned from the day was that Al could also do alchemy. he was taken by a man as an apprentice. Roy wasn't sure about the magic part though. Could Al do magic? Was his new adoptive father a magician? Or was the kid just stupid and couldn't tell alchemy apart from magic?

o0o

Though adopted by the military, Ed was put directly under his care as was to live with him. Because Roy had wasted the day before interviewing brats, he realised too late when he got back that he had yet to buy the boy a bed. It was awkward at first, but after promising that it would just be for one night, Ed agreed to share the bed.

Only the first rays of sunlight had begun to peek through the curtains when Roy woke. To his amusement, he found that Edward was cuddling the blanket in his sleep. Shifting to face the boy, he was surprised when Ed started to snuggle closer to him, perhaps for warmth. He became slightly worried when the arms came up though. He wasn't sure if he could handle a Edward Elric that had woken to find himself wrapped around Roy Mustang. 'He'd probably manage to accuse me of being the pervert,' he thought. He tried to stay still but his left arm (that was currently under Ed's shoulder) had fallen to sleep. It was prickly and numb and Roy didn't like it. While trying to not wake Ed, Roy slightly pushed him over a bit.

Ed still woke.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Roy waited for the ear-piercing shout to come.

But it didn't.

"Do you mind?" Ed asked, jerking his head a bit to signal his arms.

"Not particularly," Roy answered. It was true, as long as Ed didn't haul his automail arm up on his chest, he didn't mind the left arm that was currently snaked around him.

"Good," Ed said, and promptly went back to sleep.

This wasn't exactly what Roy had in mind and prepared for when the Fuhrer announced him to be Edward Elric's legal guardian. Ed had made it clear that he would sooner die than recognise the man next to the Fuhrer to be his father. Despite his quandary situation, Roy forced his eyes closed and willed sleep to come. This shabby military division in the outskirts of the country would probably their last chance to properly rest and sleep in, though Ed probably wasn't aware of this. When they got back to central, Edward Elric would be their newest state alchemist and a dog of the military.

Roy had stopped questioning the military's morals long ago, when he was younger and critical of everything around him that didn't agree with what he thought of as 'just'. Now the fantasy of such a thing had long folded in on itself as repeated encounters of harsh reality were met. He had accepted that some things are unavoidable, that some sacrifices are worth making, that there had to be evil for there to be good.

The warm body of Edward Elric was small and his sleeping face held a boyish appearance despite the defining angles and cheekbones of his that promised Elric to be a handsome young man in a few years. Not now, but in a few years. Elric wasn't prepared for bloodshed and war in his opinion. Despite understanding the the boy's worth just as much as the brass did, Roy found himself questioning for the first time in many, many years, the values of the military. Shaking his head, he tried to force out these thoughts that were depriving him of precious sleep. 'You're the one who approved of his registration when his profile was received,' he reminded himself, 'now is not the time for regret.'

Their current mission was quite straight forward. They were to infiltrate and capture the magician Quinton, the healer of the resistance force in this area, and bring him back alive. No violence was mentioned at all. But as they approached the camp buildings, it became apparent that there was no way they would complete the mission without spilling blood. The camp was more heavily guarded and larger than their informant reported. It consisted of three slumps of buildings. The two on the side were swarming with foot soldiers while the battle mages and officers were securely protected in the centre building.

"Colonel, do you even know where this shaman is?" Ed asked, not even trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"No," Roy answered, similarly irritated.

"Colonel, do you at least know what he looks like?"

There was no reply.

"Great. Just great shit colonel. We're in enemy territory without aid 'cause 'that would be a waste of resources and draw unwanted attention, Edward Elric,' and no idea of where to start. We might as well wave at them in pink tutus and hope a miracle will allow us to survive the gunfire-"

"Elric…" Roy warned, his already stretched patience going.

"-And hope for yet another miracle that they'll let the kind mage heal us!"

"Elric…" He said again, this time a warning in his tone.

"Maybe after we're healed we can capture-"

"ELRIC! Will you calm down and shut up!"

"I'm calm, I'm calm… I'll take out the guys on the right and you do the left side… then-"

"-Calm down I said!" Grabbing Ed's shoulders, Roy gave him a firm shake. "I'm ordering you to stay back and provide me with support. Do not attack unless it is in defence."

For a while, Ed just stood and blinked. 'He doesn't want me to kill?' An emotion flooded him so suddenly that for a moment before he identified it as relief, he felt like he was suffocating. Was he really that frightened of killing? After having survived the living nightmares he had faced, was it still possible to feel fear of killing? 'Yes' came the answer. 'I'm afraid of taking human life.'

Roy's hand rested on his left shoulder, gave it a firm squeeze and took off silently towards the guards.

The first explosion of a gun shocked Ed's eardrums so badly his hearing was impaired and head was aching. He had no idea that a gun could be so loud! Yet despite the still echoing gunfire ringing in his ears and the throbbing of his heart feeling as though it were to leap from his throat at any moment; he looked up to see Roy running ahead of him with whips of fire dancing from his fingers. The throbbing in his throat softened as Ed took a shaky breath of relief. Roy was still alive.

"Get them!" Someone to his left screamed, "That pipsqueak is with him. Shoot!"

'Pipsqueak'? No one called him pipsqueak. Fear forgotten, he ran up, leapt and used his momentum to swing his automail right foot to connect with the Loud-Guy's ribs. 'That should teach him a lesson,' he thought with satisfaction, restraining himself from doing more harm 'because damn it, that annoying colonel asked him to be backup and only backup.' Remembering the colonel, he looked ahead of him. There, Ed spotted Roy pushing three man back with flames to buy time while to struggled with another thick-necked soldier that had his thick fingers around his neck.

His body moved on its own. Running forward, Ed clapped his hands together and felt the familiar alchemical charge surge through his veins. It was electric and razor sharp, screaming to burst out of its master. Ed formulated the pattern of the array in his mind's eye without difficulty. A triangle there, containing the ancient symbol needed to nullify the power in the angle of the line… on the opposite side, an anticlockwise swirl in its upper left to conduct the pulse of his alchemy so that it moved evenly to produce the blue light that now visually embraced him in less than a millisecond.

For this he was called a genius. But in reality, it was the result of sheer practice.

Pushing a pulse of his alchemy into the soil under him, he forced sharp blades of stone from the ground that were angled towards the enemy. The wave of blades moved quickly and smoothly forward, cutting through everything in its path of destruction. Men screamed as their bodies were slashed and limbs torn off. Ed ran after Roy without looking back, without stopping to think, to admit to what he had done.

Once inside the building, he quickly rearranged the atoms of the door with alchemy to seal it from the inside. Another charge of power and the door became one with the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a look of… respect in his eyes? However, the corner of Roy's mouth was slightly curved upwards with amusement.

"What?" Ed snapped at him. "Nothing," Roy replied, "Let's just go before reinforcements come."

A metallic click echoed behind them. "Too late," a voice said. Looking up, they were surrounded by men with their guns on the ready and aimed at them from the second storey above the stair railings. "Hands up above your heads," one man wearing a red cloak over a grey uniform said. Another man wearing a standard green uniform, stepped forward to whisper in Mr. Red-cloaks' ear.

o0o

The office was in chaos. "They've taken off their listening and tracking devices," Feury shouted over his shoulder from his position before the seer machine- A thin glass cylinder- spun vertically, displaying a moving landscape as the right wires were connected, buttons pressed.

"Roger. Moving on to retrieval plan B," Havoc replied and picked up the transmitter to his right and yelled into it, "Division B, get ready." With that done, the people in the office all looked up for further orders from the First lieutenant, only to see her checking her gun and walk towards the door. "First lieutenant, Hawkeye?" Feury asked uncertainly, to which she replied, "Havoc, come with me. Feury, I'm leaving the others to you. Make sure division B backs us up as soon as possible. We're going on ahead."

The gravel crunched loudly beneath their feet as Havoc and Hawkeye abandoned all attempts of stealth for haste. 'It's starting to rain,' Havoc registered, as he felt cool prickles on the back of his neck. And without warning, with a crack of lightening, it seemed the heavens had opened.

It was pouring. He could feel the cold rain trace rivers down his back that sent shivers up his spine. Shivers not unlike the shivers caused by fear and adrenaline or perhaps, the shivers weren't from the cold after all. Maybe both.

Military training took over as his mind numbed from the cold. This was good, he thought, reports had mentioned the enemy having chimeras. The rain would cover their scent somewhat.

When they were close enough to see the enemy's camp, Hawkeye ordered Feury through the communication devices clipped on their collars, to take cover and remain at his post for the reinforcements. Havoc went with her forwards with the roar of thunder to accompany the thundering of his heart.

o0o

Meanwhile, over the border where Ed and Roy were now held in and to the impressive room where their captain, Jones Newstead, leant back in his high-back armchair and waited for a verbal report to be delivered by his lieutenant.

"Sir, the two state alchemists have been captured," reported Blue-Suit with a salute.

"And the damage, lieutenant Argoth?" asked Newstead.

"Thirty-eight men, eleven chimeras," said Argoth.

"All this by just two alchemists?"

"Do you know what they were after?"

"No, captain."

"Then find out."

"Yes captain Newstead."

A moment of pondering hung between them as Newstead knitted his eyebrows together and grudgingly gave respect to the state alchemists. He had underestimated the Ametris Military. Their human weapons were more deadly than they first gave the impression of and he had lowered his guard and paid a heavy price for it. 'Oh well,' he thought, they had a few ardent alchemists themselves. Looking up at his lieutenant, he said, "The enemy might attempt to conduct a rescue of the two captives, go prepare the men to defend."

"Yes captain," Argoth answered with a salute and turned to leave.

"And lieutenant Argoth," Newstead said, stopping Argoth, "Go and call Mage Alphonse Elric to me."

"Yes sir," was the respectful and obedient reply, but his eyes questioned his captain's decision.

As the door to his office swung close, Newstead rested his chin on his propped left arm. This would be young Alphonse's first real significant task. The boy had talent and adopting him and initiating him into their organization was a decision he found himself often praising himself for. The boy was trusting and loyal. Although he had considered adopting the older Elric too, he felt that there was a streak of stubbornness in the older boy that could potentially cause problems in the future. The older brother (what was his name again?) wouldn't be as easily to mould as young Alphonse and Al's adoration of his brother would lead him astray and ruin him for the plans Newstead had.

As he listened to Argoth's footsteps walk further down the hall, away from his office, Newstead leant back again in his chair and swerved to the window. Through the witched glass, the sky outside was sprinkled with glittering immaterial wires, each linked together the alarms, men and chimeras and told him the precise condition of his jurisdiction. Observing the threads stretch and overlap each other, he waited for Alphonse to arrive.

Here in his army, a silver watch wasn't needed to show recognition of one's talent. Alphonse was young, but Newstead firmly believed that he was no less powerful than Armetris' 'State Alchemists'.

o0o

Hey, do you know of the Makropulous Case? The beautiful Elina Makropulous drank the elixir of life and thus, was offered immortality. But gradually she found life boring and meaningless. At age 384, she refused to take the elixir of life again and despite the protests of men enchanted by her, she ended her own life. I don't think that time gives value to life. It's how you use the time that does.

There were four grey walls, no window, a dim light and rats in their prison cells. Roy stretched his legs, sat down on the grey cement floor and leant against the wall that separated his and Ed's cell. "You know, they're most likely to kill us after interrogating or whatever they want with us," he said.

"Dont' worry, I remember the oath I took for the military when I signed up. I won't talk," Ed replied.

"I know that, Fullmetal. I'm sure you'll be able to take a bit of torture. I'm just sorry about the later. Sorry for your brother."

A pause.

"How did you find out about Al?" Ed demanded.

"Have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

For a while there was no sound from the other side of the wall and Roy feared that he broke the boy. He was an amazing alchemist, yes, but still someone young and with much to learn about life despite the brilliant future that was almost promised to lie ahead of him. He mentally slapped himself for mentioning a subject he should have known was sensitive. After what seemed like an hour, Ed spoke again.

"Death gives meaning to life. I'm not saying that I want to die, just that I'm prepared."

Roy's mind blanked out for a moment at this declaration before his studies of the theories of philosophers Epicurus and Lucretius resurfaced from his academic years long ago. "Are you sure?" He asked, "Don't you want to meet your brother again? Don't you want to settle things with your father? Or end them, if that's what you want... You can't do anything when you're dead." 'I can't become Fuhrer if I'm dead,' he added silently.

But Ed disagreed. "How do you know any of that will happen if you lived?" He argued.

"I don't. But there's the possibility and opportunity."

"I don't daydream in possibilities and all that bullshit. What happens, happens. What doesn't, doesn't," he said. "I'm an alchemist if you've forgotten. I'm a scientist like you, shit Colonel and I've got good reason for not being religious."

"So you don't mind dying because you don't believe in the potential future?"

"Water, carbon, ammonia, lime, phosphorus, salt, saltpeter, sulfur, fluorine, iron, silicon and other elements I can't be bothered to name right now, are what makes us. When we die, our bodies decay and it all comes it an end. I don't believe in an afterlife. Death can't hurt because we feel nothing when we're dead."

"You don't believe in the existence of a soul?" Roy asked, truly intrigued. Despite his impatient and matter-of-fact attitude, Ed didn't strike him as the sort to think of a person as simply a body and a brain but not a 'mind'.

Silence.

"I didn't say that I believe that there're no divine figures like gods and spirits. I'm just don't believe in it. My soul won't be received by any god, nor do I want it to be."

With all his worries and desperate attempts to find a way of escape, this philosophical debate with Ed was soothing and returning calm to his mind. In what seemed like an impossible situation, talking to Ed was like the kiss of a cool wave. Regardless of the dank cell and soldiers outside, Ed had soothed his rattling soul with the reasoning of a mature mind, equal to his; a quality he had never found amongst his other most trusted subordinates or even lovers.

With the recognition of that thought, it was not fear that stirred in the corner of his mind, rather something else. An itch that he couldn't quite place his a finger on. With a sigh, he shoved the worry aside. Now was not the time to be thinking such things.

Even with all this talk of death, he couldn't quite stop the smile that spread slowly across his face like the warm sun that now spread through his chest.

Post Note:

Yeah… this is really late. I know. If you have left me an email to remind me to update (or threatened to murder me if I didn't update), rest assured that I have read it and felt thoroughly guilty. I didn't reply simply because I couldn't find the time but now that half of my exams are over, I'll take a day off to write and answer all of them.

I made my assumptions about Edward's philosophical standing partially from episode/chapter one where him and Al offer blood as equivalent trade for the soul.

This story is completely experimental. The fantasy genre, plot and way of narration are all new territory for me. Please give me feedback on whether or not this way of telling this story and the actual story works or not. I really appreciate it.