The Island of Narid
Chapter Five: Hierra
"Run this by me again. You mean to tell me you found a cave where blue stones "breathed", the earth shook, and a strange girl was singing?"
"Yes!" Winry cried, exasperated.
"Colonel, despite how ludicrous it may seem it's true."
"I think the sun's been getting to you." Roy commented.
Edward suddenly rushed in between them, frantic with worry, "Have you seen Alphonse?"
Hawkeye turned to him in calm demeanor, "No, I haven't seen him since this morning. What's wrong?"
"I let him go swimming? What in the world made me agree to that? He's a walking suit of armor—he couldn't swim anyway!" Ed frenzied, pacing.
"Ah! No—get away! Please leave me alone!" Alphonse cried, still underwater, in dismay. A violent swarm of minnows were mercilessly nibbling on his plastic press-on bag and his armor. He had caught his metal foot on a rock and there it wedged, and so he stood at the ocean floor, flailing.
And then, Al felt nothing. His eyes opened and he saw only ocean water; there was no fish near him anymore. Then he gasped as a slight wind-current blew the thread on his helmet for a moment before stilling. Two thin tan arms—Rose?—wrapped about his ankle and wrenched it up from its prison in the rocks. Once free, Alphonse whipped around. But he only saw a receding shadow.
"Let me go!" Ed cried, struggling against two pairs of arms, on fair and one dark. "Please! He's probably stuck somewhere in the sand or—"
"Edward!" Winry shouted over him, "Please stop! He'll be fine! And you can't swim, either; it will help nothing if you just throw yourself out there!"
The boy was already dragging the two girls into the shallow waters of the beach when he heard a young voice call his name. He stopped immediately, jerking Winry and Rose forward.
"Al?"
The boy was slowly draining the water out of his armor and making his way toward them. When he saw Rose, he stopped. Her hair was dry and she had on clothes only wet near the hems where thy splashed in the saltwater.
"Swimming? Never again, okay Al?" Edward breathed, relieved for Al's appearance.
Alphonse wasn't paying attention. "Rose…? I thought you were in the water."
Winry spoke for her, "She was before—I was too."
"No, I mean, just now. My foot was stuck and you pulled it loose."
There was an awkward moment of silence before Winry said slowly, "Rose was right here. She's not even wet."
"You probably just imagined it," Edward covered the uncomfortable topic hastily.
"She had your skin color, and brown hair, I think."
Winry started suddenly and Rose turned toward her, knowing what each was thinking. Eventually she looked back at Alphonse. "Well, in the cave a little girl was singing—so there has to be other people here."
"You're still insisting on that story? Just give it up, there's no way the ground could 'pulse' or shake when we don't feel…" His voice faded away when Rose and Winry glared at him with such a ferocity he didn't dare continue.
"Maybe there are other people here," Alphonse came in timidly, "if we both saw or heard them it's very likely."
That's when Rose paled and began to back away slowly. Yes, there were other people. There was the dark-eyed man and his group who gave her the mark of the homunculi.
"Rose?"
She looked up to see all of them turned toward her with worried eyes. Quickly, she smothered her own frets with a smile and they shrugged it off. Still a tad uneasy Rose left them to retreat to Kit who was dozing on the sand.
"HA! They'll never get me! I will defeat them with my beautiful and graceful body!" Armstrong was a way off, hysterically talking to himself and pacing. In the last few days he had dug a miraculous cavern hideout—or rather, a hole in the sand—that he sat in day and night, muttering madly. Too much sun; too little food. That's what everyone thought, and left him well enough alone to his own insanity.
Kit stretched out at Rose's approach and happily let the girl scratch her stomach. In no less than a moment after, Armstrong leapt their way, nearly tackling the small kitten. Rose was quick though, and wrenched Kit away from the bulky man as he dove onto the sand. Rose fumbled away from him and opened her mouth in a soundless cry of surprise.
"You're protecting the enemy!" Armstrong howled, pointing a muscular finger at the alarmed Kit in Rose's arms. "You're not on our side!" He hurled himself at the kitten and dark-skinned girl only to fall flat onto the sand when Rose scrambled away.
"What's going on?" Everyone rushed to the scene. Two arms jerked Rose back; Armstrong was ready to spring again.
"What's wrong with you?"
Armstrong gazed around them with wild eyes, "She's protecting the enemy! My muscles and I will put an end to this—" He was silenced by a blow to the head. He tumbled to the sand and lay there, unmoving.
Edward, with his right arm half-raised above where Armstrong's head once was, stood awkwardly, retrieving odd looks from the rest of camp.
"…you didn't have to kill him!"
"Hey, he's still alive!" Edward held up his arms out, pleading innocence.
"He was getting annoying anyway…" Roy muttered, shrugging. He left the scene and took no further notice. The others took his lead after a small moment's pause. They figured Armstrong really wasn't that important anyway.
Winry turned to Rose, "So what got him angry?"
Rose held Kit up and shook her head with annoyance. But Winry could tell she was shaken by being the target of wrath of the hulkiest man alive.
Then, startling Rose, Winry suddenly laughed. When a baffled Rose looked her way she said, "What a mess this is getting to be!"
Rose was running, sprinting through the trees of the island. It was dark, and fog curled around the leaves, making the air thick and heavy. She could barely see in front of her but yet she was pressing on as fast as her legs could manage.
She was being pursued.
Whipping her head round, Rose saw none of those who hunted her, only white mist and empty forest. Turning forward again she stopped, nearly crashing into the man that stood before her. Crowned in golden-blonde curls, the dark-eyed boy caught her shoulders. A sickly dark grin plastered his face. When she struggled against him he only held her tighter. And then behind him more came forward, slowly, as if appearing from the mist itself.
The nearest was a tall woman with waves of ebony silk framing a divine face. Her narrow eyes were violet, and her lips were pressed into a thin smile. Another woman followed, this time with straight hair—and then another person—a child, who wore on his face a dark glare, surrounded by thick black hair. And last a pupilless man, bulky in form, stepped toward her. His grin was wide and covered in saliva. He eyed her hungrily.
They were all clothed in black, save for the dark-eyed boy who held her shoulders still. He had on a brown vest—but it soon vanished as a white light washed his figure. When it was gone, he had changed wholly—he was an entirely different person. Untamed dark hair hung around his face and his eyes were violet now. Before Rose absorbed what had just happened he was showered in the same intense light again.
Rose gasped, because now holding onto her was Edward. He tore the light cloth from Rose's neck where the oroborus mark lay and traced around it with his finger. After a moment of searing pain, her neck went numb and she felt nothing but warm liquid slide down her neck. In a foreign voice that certainly was not Edward's, he bent close, and whispered teasingly, "Who would you like me to be?"
It was Al who stood before her now—then Winry, and then the monster became a tall girl clothed in a cream-colored dress with thick brown hair and a dark-skinned face framed by rose-hued bangs.
It was her.
Rose struggled from the beast that mirrored her. But the other only drew up her eyebrows in mock concern and said, in her own voice, "What's wrong?" It mocked her, "Can't you cry for help?"
Rose shot up straight from where she slept. She was shivering uncontrollably and the cut on her neck ached. Looking around her, she realized she was sitting on the shack in the beach. Everyone was sleeping and didn't notice she had awoken. Outside the shed it was raining, but thanks to Edward none inside was even the slightest bit damp. Rain pattered gently on the roof above her.
Her breathing returned to normal. It was simply a dream. A sudden pain caught the side of her neck then, making her gag. Trembling, she placed her hand upon it and found it was slick. Her mark was bleeding again.
Rose threw over the blanket she slept under and found dry sand. With her finger, she traced in what her dream Edward was drawing on her neck. She closed her eyes, remembering the exact movements. When it was done, she slowly turned to look at it. It was sloppy, but she still got what it meant. It was of a dragon or serpent, devouring its own tail. There were other symbols around and inside it but she didn't understand what they meant. Hawkeye had explained before that those monsters, the homunculi, had the mark of the "oroborus", when described seemed to be exactly what lay on the sand before her. Terrified, she fled from camp, not into the forest, but on the tree-line, where she could see whatever was coming near.
When her legs were sore and numb from running she collapsed exhaustedly on the soaked sand beneath her. Rain struck her body; every drop was another glass shard upon her skin. Lifting her head she realized how foolishly impetuous she had been. And now she was far from camp; cold, wet, and alone.
Alone.
That was the last thing she wished to be. Clutching her arms about her sides, Rose shivered and stood, gazing around her. Then she heard something—an intake of breath and a child's whisper. Whipping her head around, she saw the shadow of a small, frail girl in-between the branches of the forest.
Cautiously Rose stepped forward, and held her hand out gently towards the girl. She saw the other peek through the leaves and slowly start to come to her. Only the moon and the stars provided light, but in it she could see clearly the girl's thick, long hair.
Rose stopped, suddenly struck with fear. She remembered her dream, and the little boy with hair thicker than even her own, and how he was nearly the same height as the child that stood hauntingly before her.
"Toheru niutet?" The small girl asked very softly, quivering.
Rose relaxed. It was a girl, and not the wild, violet-eyed one from her nightmare. But Rose could not answer; she only knelt in the wet sand and beckoned the child nearer.
"Toheru niutet?" The girl repeated, bolder now.
Rose put one hand to her throat and shook her head. The girl came nearer, stopping only a breadth's pace away. She had large eyes and a small nose, all delicately framed by long, dark hair. A small, handmade bag lay on her hip, slung with a strap around her shoulder and neck. She whispered something inaudible and faintly smiled. Rose gasped when the girl held out her tiny hand; even in the dark Rose could tell their dusky skin held the same hue. Rose gently held out her own palm and she placed it on top of the girl's, not risking taking hold of it lest the girl shy and frighten.
"Nana huzhetá Hierra."
Rose raised her eyebrows in bewilderment and tilted her head, hoping the girl would know her movement's meaning.
"Hierra," the girl prodded, much more insisting. Then with her free hand she forcefully pointed to her chest and repeated, "Hierra, tushté Hierra."
Her name? Rose would have given her own, but when her lips parted to speak, no sound came out, as always. Hierra waited for a reply. Rose touched her throat tentatively again and shook her head slowly.
"Kah pudu?" The girl's tone was softer now.
With a frustrated sigh, Rose released the girl's hands and stood up. Hierra caught her arms as she rose and held it. "Niutet karzh? Hierra tozhde."
Rose shook her head again. Why couldn't she see that she didn't understand? Rose knew she should return to camp before the rest awoke and found the thing she drew by her bedside. But could she just leave the child here alone in the rain? The girl seemed bereft of family, and Rose knew first-hand how lonely and disconsolate it could be alone in the world when her parents died. She wanted none to live in such a manner. However, if Hierra had a family she could be blamed for kidnapping.
Though when she turned to leave, Hierra leapt forward and took ahold of her arm once more and refused to release her hold. Rose placed a soft head on the drenched head of Hierra and nodded finally, taking the girl's hand and leading her back to camp.
"Nyla!" Hierra suddenly screamed in her childish voice. Shy stopped, dug into one of the small bags slung around her shoulder and pressed something as cool as the rain itself into her palms.
When Rose saw what the child had given her she started. Lying cupped inside her soft, dark hands lay a blue stone, pulsing with each breath.
YAY, I GET NON-EXISTENT CANDY!
Squee!