Comfort burned brightly as the diversion force wound away from the village, down the dark road. No one seemed to mind the brisk pace this time. Bernard actually needed to scold a few men for getting too far ahead.
Occasionally a wight or two would emerge from the trees and make for the road, but the archers managed to catch the fiends in time. Beyond that, no more enemies had been seen in pursuit. Feeling in the home stretch, the soldiers began to think that perhaps they would all come out of the mission unscathed. Even Bernard allowed himself a little bit of hope.
Then the scouts came rushing back to the column, and everyone felt their hearts sink.
"What do you see, Alan?" Bernard met the lead scout, and held his arm up to signal the column to halt.
"We're in trouble sir," Alan wheezed, "The enemy. They…they've outmaneuvered us, sir. Up ahead, at the bridge, they've got…they've got it blocked. There's many ghols there. But that's not the worst of it."
"What else?"
"There's myr—myr—Myrmidons, sir," Alan stuttered, not from fatigue but from fear.
The captain cursed his luck. Arrows and grenades could do little against enemies as swift and tough as Myrmidons. The highland Northmen, the best with swords left in the legions, could go toe-to-toe without much worry against Myrmidons. But in Bernard's group there were only men from the lowlands of the Province: reliable, experienced, and well-drilled, but almost useless against myrmidons unless in superior numbers. And Bernard knew his troops were outnumbered.
Outnumbered and trapped.
"It can't be helped," Bernard sighed. He knew the coming battle would get very ugly.
"Steel yourselves men!" the captain drew his sword, "Make ready to rush the bridge. We've got to get across before the rest of the enemy catches up to us."
"Wait, there's another way!"
The soldiers turned to see the two Elric brothers standing just off the road. The younger one addressed them, pointing off to the side.
"There's another crossing, through the woods. My brother and I saw it. Follow us!"
Both the boy and his great armored brother took off in the direction of the woods. The soldiers on the road paused.
"What do we do, sir?" a nearby warrior asked his captain.
"There can't be another crossing, not for miles" Bernard shook his head, his tolerance severely challenged "I've seen the maps. Get out there and grab those two immediately."
"Oh, blast the maps," Nori exclaimed as he broke off from the column, "Those two saved my life once tonight; I bet they can do it again."
"Nori, get your short-ass back on the line!" Bernard shouted as the dwarf headed for the edge of the woods, following the footsteps of the Elrics.
The dwarf paid Bernard no mind. The captain clenched his jaw in frustration. Nori had now committed his third offense of the night by deserting. Bernard could not let such a breach of conduct go unpunished.
"After them, all of you! Apprehend the dwarf and the boys. Use force if necessary."
The entire column of troops rushed off the road towards the woods. Privately, many of them began to hope again. Perhaps, just maybe, the Elrics could lead them out of the trap.
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"I know we might be saving their lives, Ed, but this could go badly too," Al said as he rushed through the trees, his brother beside him, "We never saw any part of the river beyond the bridge back there. Blindly gambling on finding another crossing is very risky. And once those soldiers realize we've lied, they will not be happy."
"Yeah, well, so far this is better than following Bernard and company into a horde of enemies," Ed grunted as he clambered up logs that Al easily vaulted over, "If we don't find a crossing, there are other ways of getting over that river."
"What did we just talk about? Not relying on alchemy! I know what you're thinking brother, but imagine what'll happen if the transmutation fails, or worse? And then we'll still have the lives of all these people on our hands."
"We don't have a lot of options here, brother. Desperate times, desperate measures. Like you said, you're still here, so this world does support some limit of alchemy. We need to test those limits if we hope to survive here, not to mention get back home."
The boys soon broke out of the woods and emerged onto the bank of the river. They could see no obvious ford across the swiftly moving waters. Luckily, they discovered a boulder embedded in the river bank. The rock was so massive that it extended almost a quarter of the way across the river and stood a couple of yards over the water surface.
"That's our way across," Ed grinned and pointed to the boulder.
"Alright, brother," Al watched as Ed hopped onto the top of the rock, "I hope this works."
Al heard a rustle in the leaves behind him. He turned to find Nori stumbling out of the bushes.
"Well, there you are!" the dwarf began to chuckle, "You two could outrun an avalanche given the chance."
His good humor faded as he surveyed the river bank.
"Uhh, where's that river crossing?" Nori scowled.
"Brother's making it, I hope," Al nodded towards Ed, who began the transmutation with a clap of his hands.
"Making it!? You hope!? What'n the blazes do—"
The dwarf ceased to speak and let his jaw hang agape as he watched Ed crouch down to transmute the boulder. Its surface glowed at the touch of Ed's hands, and then a long arm of rock began to stretch out across the river. In the next moment, the end of the rock arm buried itself in the opposite river bank. Ed stood up, the proud creator of a new bridge just wide enough for a man to cross without difficulty.
"Wha…how?" Nori slowly regained his speech.
The dwarf walked forward until he stood next to Ed, and put one of his feet on the bridge to test its strength.
"Good and solid," the dwarf marveled, "I can't say I've seen a fair lot of wizardry, but I never thought something like this was even possible. How are you a sorcerer and yet so young?"
"It isn't magic," Ed smiled and put his hands on his hips in a confident pose, "It's alchemy."
"Do you have to keep showing off every time you impress someone?" Al loomed behind his brother, reproachfully.
"Eh?" Nori looked confused.
"Halt there!"
The Elrics and Nori looked back to see the rest of the soldiers emerge from the woods. Bernard led the warriors, easily distinguished from the greenery by their blue surcoats, out of the foliage while the archers and remaining dwarf followed close behind. The captain looked quite livid.
"How dare you all! Desertion is an offense punishable by…" the captain's voice trailed off as he noticed Ed's bridge.
"That wasn't there before!" "No map said anything about a second bridge." "Where'd that come from?" The soldiers, incapable of keeping their astonishment to themselves, gazed upon the creation. Even the usually composed archers, who the Elrics now understood were not men but a race called fir'Bolg, seemed amazed by the sight.
"Well quit gaping!" Nori scolded "It's a good bridge. Let's get across!"
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Much later, after safely crossing the river and marching a long distance, Bernard ordered his troops to make camp. The captain posted a couple of sentries, while much of the unit lay down to rest in the few hours remaining before sunrise.
But one small group remained awake, huddled about a meager fire. Most were warriors, who cleaned their weapons and chain mail, or looked over the dents in their long shields and conical helmets.
The Elric brothers sat with these few soldiers, quietly brooding over the events of the evening. Ed's mind raced with questions to the point that he could not sleep. Though physically weary, he occupied himself with rubbing down his metal hand before replacing his gloves. Al's condition made him incapable of feeling tired at all, and he thought as much as his brother about their recent experiences. As time passed, and they stared into the flames, the brothers began to wonder about the friends they left behind.
"Ed, I'd give a lot to see Winry right now. So much has happened."
"What're you talking 'bout there lad?" Nori, who was squatting on a log nearby, leaned forward to listen to Al. Both brothers had forgotten about the others sitting around the fire.
"Mutual friend of my brother and me," Ed answered, half-smiling as he kept thinking of Winry, "She lives in this little village and we don't get to see her too often. But she always manages to brighten our spirits."
"Ah, a female! Pretty I bet? Always good company." The dwarf chuckled and smacked his knee. There was a twinkle in his eyes.
"When's the last time you enjoyed the company of a woman, Nori?" a hardy-looking warrior from across the fire snorted, "Did she stoop over, or did you stand on a box?"
"Hey, you can keep your gangly human females to yourself, Gerrard! Gimme a nice, pretty dwarf lass: short and round with hair in all the right places!"
The other warriors around the fire roared in amusement. The Elric brothers glanced at each other, equally confused and disturbed.
"Anyway," Nori turned back to the boys, "Your Winry's village must be an awfully long way from here. I mean, how else could you lads know nothin' about all this."
"What do you mean all this?" Al asked.
"Why, the Great War. And the Fallen. You there, Ed, you looked right confused back in town when I mentioned the war and all."
"Well, you're right, we are from pretty far away," Ed turned so he could face the dwarf easily, "So, if you don't mind, could you explain what's going on?"
"Sure, sure." The dwarf pulled at his beard a moment, going over the details in his mind before beginning the story. The other soldiers about the fire ceased their work, and listened to Nori tell his tale.
"You see, it all started, a long time ago. Once, east of the Cloudspine, there was the mighty empire of Cath Bruig. Its capital was Muirthemne, the greatest city ever built; its high white towers reached towards the sky, its bazaar bustled with people and goods from all corners of the world. They say Cath Bruig saw its golden age under a hero called Connacht, who wiped out the evil race of Myrkridia. Connacht reigned well after the war, bringing peace and prosperity to the land. He forged an alliance between my people, the dwarves of the mountain cities at Mygard and Stoneheim, and kingdoms of men. At his palace, he even gathered all the world's great artifacts, treasures, and books: such wonders as the five Eblis Stones, the Tramist's Mirror, and the Total Codex."
Ed and Al shifted at the mention of the ancient book, but kept their focus on the dwarf.
"This whole region, west of the Cloudspine," Nori went on, "used to be but one province of the Empire. Now it is all that remains."
"Why? What happened?" Al leaned forward.
The dwarf removed his cap and rubbed the top of his bald head. His eyes seemed to mist over and he stared into the fire, reliving a painful memory. The other soldiers nearby looked similarly forlorn and distant as Nori managed to continue.
"Fifty years ago, he came. Out of the east. Balor, the dark one. Him and his Fallen Lords, the six sorcerer-generals whose hordes continue to drive us back to the sea. When Balor came, he brought destruction and havoc upon us all. He unleashed the Trow from their prisons beneath the earth. He and his generals brought with them other foul creatures too. They raised armies of dead, the Fallen. No one could stop them. Balor crushed the Cath Bruig. His crack troops, the Myrmidons, sacked Muirthemne, slaughtered everyone inside, and burned ruins to the ground."
Nori paused for a moment.
"He…he helped the ghols overrun Mygard…and Stoneheim," Nori almost choked on his words, and his eyes flashed with first sorrow, then rage.
"Nori…is there anything left?" Ed forced himself to ask. He felt sorry for the dwarf.
"But a little," Nori shook his head and replaced his cap, apparently recovered "Now the legions that were stationed here, in the Province, are the only forces left between Balor and complete dominion over the land. We've been fighting a losing battle here for decades, slowly retreating as the Fallen push onward. Only two cities remain in our hands, Madrigal and Tandem. And Madrigal is besieged at this very moment, by the forces of Shiver, one of Balor's Fallen Lords. But perhaps the tide may turn."
"This here," Nori gestured to the sleeping soldiers, "is a diversion force. That whole operation earlier was us carrying out our mission; a feint towards Shiver's main camp, which is just South of that abandoned village."
"So that's why they weren't worried about making noise the whole time. They wanted the enemy to notice them," Al whispered to his brother.
"Six of our legions, 'bout 20,000 men altogether, are attacking on Shiver's right flank as we speak," the dwarf continued, pounding his fists together eagerly, "See, the plan was that we'd get Shiver's reserves all riled up and chasing after us. Then our legions would come down on Shiver's siege lines, leaving her caught between them and Madrigal's garrison. So far, looks like everything's worked out perfectly. With some luck, our boys will sweep Shiver away and save the city!"
"This Fallen Lord, why is she called Shiver?" Ed asked, looking over the faces of the soldiers. None of them looked as optimistic as Nori.
"Most of the boys say she inspires a fearsome awe in her when you see her," the warrior named Gerrard spoke, "I've never seen her, but she's supposed to be beautiful, yet frightening too. She enchants you, stealing your very soul away till there's nothing left but a quivering husk of a man. There's stories of whole companies falling to their knees before her, fascinated and terrified out of their minds."
"I don't care what they say!" Nori glowered into the flames, "That creature will get a grenade in her first chance I get!"
The dwarf heaved an imaginary explosive with all his might.
"Not everyone calls her Shiver though," the lead scout from the retreat, Alan, joined the conversation, "The Nine, they tend to call her the Voiceless One. Beats me why they call her that. Well there is a rumor. They say—"
"Wait a minute," Ed interrupted, "The Nine? Who are the Nine?"
"Goodness, boyo," Nori snorted, "Don't get me wrong, I'm eternally grateful to you for saving my life, but you ask so many questions!"
"The Nine are our leaders," Bernard spoke. The captain emerged from the darkness and sat down by the fire. He was cleaning his sword. "They're wizards and our top generals."
"Fine lot they are," Gerrard grumbled, "I wouldn't count on one of the Nine being any match for a Fallen Lord, in either strategy or single-combat. With every campaign, no real gains. We just keep getting pushed back, back, back!"
"Oh c'mon!" Alan exclaimed, "What about Rabican? He's held Madrigal for a week now, with just one legion. And against an entire army!"
"Rabican's no fool and no coward," Gerrard responded, "But he's no match for Shiver. Just not good enough. It's only been luck, that's all. We've been due for some since we lost the south to the Fallen. Rabican lasting a week under-siege, and this opportunity for a surprise attack: that's all our luck for the rest of the year, right there. I'll bet you Shiver will beat our legions anyway. And our 13th is good as dead, since our boys always lead the charge."
"Are you finished, soldier?" Bernard slid his sword back into his scabbard, loudly, to emphasize his disapproval.
"Sorry, captain, sir. I was only venting. I'll keep my mouth shut next time, sir."
No one spoke for a short time. But Ed, eager for more information, could not remain silent for long.
"So the Fallen control all of the south parts of the Province, now?" he asked, hoping not to rub salt in any wounds.
"Yeah," Nori talked out the side of his mouth as he spit in the fire.
"And was it Shiver you've been fighting this whole time?"
"No," Bernard answered, "With Shiver, there's another Fallen Lord on this side of the Cloudspine. The Watcher, he's called. He's destroyed his own share of cities and legions. I couldn't tell you where he is though, or even what he looks like. The 13th has been in the North the entire war. Beating back raids and shadowing Shiver's movements occupy us constantly."
"Strange," Nori added, "I can't even remember the last bit of news we had about the Watcher."
"What about the rest of these Fallen Lords? Where are they?" Ed asked.
"Where they are now, only the gods know," Bernard responded, "Not all of them have even crossed the Cloudspine yet, so far as we know. Some have crossed and then returned east. We're only rank and file, boy. The finer points of the enemy's dealings don't make it down to us."
"There's four others, but it's dangerous to speak names aloud." Alan almost whispered, "There's the Deceiver, then Bonesplitter, the Faceless Man…and then…"
"The worst of all, next to only Balor himself," Gerrard closed his eyes and cringed, "Soulblighter."
"What makes Soulblighter so awful?"
"Best not ask that, lad" Nori laid a hand on Ed's shoulder, "They won't answer. We don't often discuss the Fallen Lords openly, and certainly no one talks about…well, you know. He might be listening."
"I don't understand. Is Soulblighter somehow worse then Balor?" Al asked.
"Balor's the worst of them all, make no mistake about that. But he's left most of the campaigning to his generals since he took Muirthemne. He's up to other…things…in the east, they say."
"Besides," Alan shuddered, "Soul—…him, he can be…can be…"
"The easiest way to explain it," Bernard said, unwavering, "is that he can be anywhere, or everywhere, at his choosing."
Ed frowned, mystified. Al rubbed his helmet in puzzlement. They did not understand how anyone could wield such power.
Bernard glanced at the sky. His eyes narrowed.
"First light is almost upon us," the captain rose to his feet, "Time to wake the company. We march to the legion camp now."
He turned to the Elrics.
"You lads better be ready to do some of your own explaining once we reach headquarters. The commander will want to see you, I can guarantee that. And who knows, you might even get to see the Nine."
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The legion camp did not look pretty. The tents, while in orderly rows, looked so weathered that they hardly seemed adequate shelters. The Elrics could see through holes in the roofs and the sides of some of the tents. The air about them smelled of smoke and iron. They could hear hammers pounding on anvils, and the moans of the injured.
The boys saw many wounded soldiers about the camp, some with only deep cuts or broken bones, and others barely clinging to life. The wounded appeared absorbed in feelings of loss and pain, and paid little attention to the rest of the world.
But plenty of able-bodied soldiers milled about the camp as well. These men took notice of Bernard and his returning company. Some of them pointed at the Elrics and talked amongst themselves. The boys began to feel uncomfortable.
"Hey, look 'ere lads. The yung Captain returns with no causalities!" a huge, burly man with a thick accent stepped out of the crowd and slapped Bernard on the back, "By my sword, Bernard, me boyo, you'll outshine all the officers in this fine legion if ye keep up this kind of service. He', you sure ur' all lowlander? Perhaps ye father had some highlander in 'em."
"Truan of the Hundred Battles!" Bernard's face lit up as he recognized the man, "So you've managed to survive yet another fight. Still keeping count?"
"Heh, well, lad, there isn't much point in keepin' count after a hundred," Truan grinned as he fell into step with Bernard, "Truan of the Hundred-and-Seven Battles is a bit long. Not the same ring to et."
The big warrior glanced back at the Elric brothers. Ed realized that the man wore no body armor at all, and hardly any clothing save a kilt and boots. On his back, the warrior carried an immense double-handed sword. Scars, blue war-paint, and strange tattoos covered his body. Long mangy hair and a thick beard hid much of his face. Truan eyed both Ed and Al with suspicion, his gaze as sharp as the blade he wielded in battle.
"And who are these?" Truan asked of Bernard. The column stopped moving, and some soldiers from the camp stepped forward for a better look at the boys.
"Them? They call themselves the Elric brothers. Alphonse, the big one, and Edward the— "
"Don't you dare call me short!" Ed fumed.
"Brother, calm down," Al cautioned, "You'll get us into trouble."
But he spoke too late. Truan sensed an opportunity and stared down at Ed.
"Aww, look at the little pipsqueak. He's so cute. Whatsa matter there, shorty? Don't have the guts to stand up to an officer of the 13th legion? Go on lad, you said et yourself, don't let 'im call you short! Or are you gunna mind your tongue and respect your betters?"
"Edward, settle down. Truan, let the boy be; he can't help his lacking height," Bernard smirked, pleased to put a quarrelsome youth in his place.
"Quit mocking me!" Ed snarled.
Many of the nearby troops snickered at Ed's reaction, though a few of the troops from Bernard's column kept silent. Al noticed this, feeling glad that perhaps he and his brother had won over some friends.
Ed, however, continued glaring up at Truan, who stooped at little to emphasize his next condescending remark.
"Whatcha gonna do about it? Shorty?"
With a yell, Ed jabbed at Truan with his right arm. The warrior caught Ed's fist with his own hand.
"Fast punch, laddie, but not fast enough!"
Truan grinned as he began to squeeze down on the boy's hand, hoping to teach him a lesson. Surprisingly, the lad did not even flinch. Nor did his hand seem to buckle under the pressure of Truan's grip. The warrior's grin vanished from his face.
"Wha—?"
"Good grip," now Ed grinned, "but not good enough!"
Ed twisted his hand out of Truan's and somersaulted to the other side of the camp road. He tore off his right glove, and threw up his metal fist defiantly.
"Now you see why they call me the Fullmetal Alchemist!"
By this time, an audience of soldiers had gathered about the scene. They marveled at the intricate prosthetic hand, and at the boy's assertive display. Some called it bold. Many more called it stupid.
"Brother, what are you doing!?" Al shouted, unheard amidst the commotion of the crowd.
"So, I've been challenged," Truan fingered his sword, "By an adolescent, nonetheless. But here's a lesson for you, lad. Never issue a challenge, unless you mean to stand by it."
"Wait a minute. Truan, this is going too far. No fight in the camp!" Bernard urged.
But the great warrior brought forth his immense weapon and assumed an aggressive stance.
"Truan of the Hundred Battles never refuses a challenge!"
Then, with a roar, Truan charged and swept his sword before him. Ed dodged the singing blade, which cleaved through a sturdy tent pole.
"Fight!" the enthusiastic cry erupted from the now surging audience. Dwarves in the back hopped up, attempting to catch a glimpse of the action. The crowd engulfed Al and the members of Bernard's company. They could only watch, along with the hundreds of excited onlookers, as the duel unfolded before them.
Ed knew he needed more space to move if he stood any chance of beating Truan. He carefully retreated down the lane of tents, using somersaults to avoid sword swipes while occasionally kicking out at his opponent. The crowd followed the movement of the combatants. Most of them cheered Truan.
"Go on, northman!", "Teach that whelp, berseker!", "Make him mind the officers!", "Truan!!"
"Don't listen to 'em, Ed," Nori, who stood close by, shouted, "Keep your head, boy!"
"Watch out brother!" Al cried.
"Whasa matter? Scared to fight?" Truan taunted.
Ed's blood boiled but he kept falling back. Truan would get his due as soon as Ed could find more open ground.
Sure enough, the pair soon came upon a wide parade ground towards the center of the camp. The wild movements of the duel, plus the hundreds of feet following it, began to kick up the dirt. The situation reminded Ed of an alchemist duel he once fought against Colonel Mustang, and an idea sprang into his mind.
Ed quickly kicked up some more dirt, and then flipped backward through a cloud of dust. Truan kept coming forward.
"Ah hah! Gotcha now!" the warrior saw a short silhouette in front, wearing a long cloak. With a swift kick, Truan pinned the boy to the ground.
Except it was not the boy. Truan looked down and saw only a mannequin made of clay, with Ed's red cloak draped over its shoulders. He could read a word etched onto the mannequin's forehead:
SUCKER
"Aw crap!"
Ed's metal foot slammed into the side of Truan's head. The warrior staggered backward, clutching his skull with one hand. Ed sprang back several paces, and gave Truan time to recover as he transmuted his arm into a blade. The crowd of soldiers looked on in stunned awe.
Truan growled and shook his head.
"There's more to ye than I thought lad, I'll give you that much. You had me there."
"Figured I'd spare you," Ed crowed, "so you could fully savor defeat."
"Defeat!? I'm just getting' started boyo!"
Truan issued a bloodcurdling yell and leapt forward with his sword overhead. Ed barely had enough time raise his blade. He blocked successfully, but the force of the blow brought him to his knees. Ed needed to use both his arms just to keep the sword back from his face. Truan towered above, projecting an aura of terrible rage as he pressed his sword downward.
"Are you trying to kill me!?" Ed furiously screamed at Truan.
"Nah, just testin' your resolve. You're impressin' me Edward," the warrior smiled, not in triumph but in genuine appreciation.
"Hey, stop hurting my brother!" Alphonse roared and came stomping forward.
Ed sensed his opponent's distraction and attempted to kick out the warrior's legs. But Truan possessed equally keen senses, as he leapt over Ed's kick and away from both brothers. The boys and the warrior stood in a triangle, surrounded by a now ecstatic throng of soldiers. Nothing this exciting ever occurred in camp.
The brothers paused to exchange words before renewing the clash.
"Al, thanks for backing me up!"
"Ed, even when you do the dumbest things, I won't abandon you!"
"So, both the Elric brothers together," Truan laughed, "This could get interesting!"
And then the fight began anew. Truan's sword flashed in the morning sun, while the Elrics darted about him. One brother would parry while the other struck at their foe. But Truan always managed to block or move out of the way, and then strike back. The clang of metal upon metal resounded throughout the square. No one noticed the hollow noise Al's armor would make at the strike of Truan's blade. The troops cheered loudly, many still supporting their own man. But plenty of others, impressed by the spirit and skill of the Elrics, shouted on behalf of the young alchemists. The battle seemed as if it might last all day.
But not much time passed before a horn began to sound, and part of the crowd began to shift as loud voice bellowed over the noise.
"Make way! Make way there, I say! C'mon, move aside for Commander Marius!"
The crowd parted, and a color guard marched into the square. Truan and the Elrics ceased fighting. The crowd of troops fell silent. The color guard halted and snapped to attention.
A middle aged man with a short grizzled beard stepped out from the formation. He wore armor similar to the standard issue for the human legionnaires, except he wore a white surcoat instead of a blue one. He scowled as he surveyed the scene.
"Berserker," he looked straight at Truan, "care to explain this display?"
"Well, 'tis nothin' Marius. Just a…misunderstandin' of sorts."
"Misunderstanding? Is that what they call brawling now?"
"Err…"
"All of you!" Marius swept up around the square, shouting into the crowd, "Are in a direct dereliction of duty! And yet you call yourselves soldiers of 13th! We may have won last night's clash, but the battle's not over. You all owe your skins to his lordship, Rabican, and this is how you repay him? By dodging work and encouraging brawling? Shame! All of you, return to your duties. Any further infractions will meet severe consequences!"
The encircling troops shuffled off, with little grumbling. Marius focused on Truan.
"I understand you are a hero of this legion, Truan. Gods above, you are a hero of this whole bloody war. But that still does not give you a free pass to throw discipline to the winds!"
"Sorry sir, no excuse. Got carried away is all. It's just these two lads are such fine fighters and all. They'd be an asset to the legion."
Marius looked up at Alphonse, and then down at Edward, who quickly transmuted his blade back into his forearm.
"You two, who are you? What are you doing in this camp? How dare you cause a disturbance here?"
"Sir, they are my responsibility," Bernard stepped forward from the dispersing crowd, saluting his superior, "My company and I encountered them during our mission. They returned here with us, by their own volition I might add."
Marius studied Bernard's face, discerning the officer's feelings to his new wards.
"Captain, I think it best that you come to my office so we might discuss this further."
The commander then glowered down at Ed and Al.
"You two, go assist Bernard's unit, the 26th company, in…some useful way. Truan will show you the way."
With that, Marius marched off for his office in a large tent just off the parade ground. Bernard glanced over his shoulder at the Elrics before jogging after his superior.
"C'mon then lads," Truan spoke as he sheathed his sword, "I'll show you where you need to be."
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When the Elrics entered the 26th company's section of the camp, cheers welcomed them. Truan grinned, whispered something about business elsewhere, and then promptly left before anyone could taunt him being equaled by two adolescents. The soldiers invited the Elrics to sit down for supper of chicken gruel.
The brothers took their seats by Nori. Ed quickly slurped down his ration of gruel, then in a half-feigned gluttony slurped down Al's ration too. The brothers felt they needed to conceal Al's condition until they felt a bit more accepted by their new friends. No one took notice of Al's lack of an appetite; they were too busy listening to stories from the great battle.
26th shared their meal with several other companies. Old friends sat in tight knit groups, swapping stories of the past action. A dwarf named Barin, a friend of Nori's from another company, stood on a barrel and regaled the troops with an account of the great battle. Indeed, the whole camp buzzed with talk about the clash.
Everyone agreed upon the assault's success, even the staunchest pessimists. In hushed voice to emphasize the covert night operations, Barin described the slow and steady advance of the main body towards Madrigal. Both the river crossing and the subsequent march proceeded smoothly and silently. Nothing in recent military history could match the discipline with which the troops carried out the maneuvers.
Barin raised his voice as the story neared the climax. In the dead of night, the army arrived on the edge of the woodlands. In the trampled grain fields they could see huge bonfires set by Shiver's troops, and a ring of siege works encircling the beleaguered Madrigal. Packs of ghols flitted here and there, while tireless mobs of undead shambled forth to reinforce the front lines. To behold such a host made it all the more amazing that Rabican still held the city with but a single legion.
"And then, the signal! From the towers of the city, we heard the cadence beat and the war horns blow. The gates groaned open. And though we stood a fair distance away, I could see him standing in the great threshold, between the foul hordes and the inner light of the city. His armor shone in the torchlight as he held his sword high, the very air about him crackling with power. A hero, in every measure. Lord Rabican!"
The troops cheered and chanted his name. The Elrics leaned forward intently, desiring to catch the rest of the account.
Barin spared no flourish or praise in his description of the clash. The relief legions swept down from the woodlands upon the Fallen while Rabican's army broke out of Madrigal. The devastating charge soon put the enemy on their heels. But it would take a final blow to destroy them utterly.
"At that moment, the mobs of thrall parted ranks to make a path for their master. And she came forth to the mindless howls, the very ground beneath her withering in death. That she-wolf who drank the blood of our friends and families: Shiver.
All shrank back a step in fear. All, but Rabican. Nay, he strode forward. And there, in the space between the hosts, the unthinkable happened and history was made; a dream duel to the death, between one of our Nine and one of the Fallen Lords.
And our lord stood resolute, as Shiver buckled before him. She twisted and screamed as his magic flayed her very skin from the bone. And when all was said and done, with Shiver's ashes smoldering on the plain, her forces routed before our might, Rabican raised his blade high once again. In total victory. Hero of the Light. Lord Rabican!"
The final round of cheers and chanting seemed to last forever. The Elrics saw that the victory meant more than the world to the troops. The brothers could only guess at the horrible defeats these men endured before the glorious events of last night. Finally, these soldiers felt the sweet taste of triumph.
Eventually, the troops finished their celebratory meal and began preparing for their next engagement. Smiths repaired mail and sharpened weapons against grindstones. Bowyers fashioned new arrows, and chemists mixed explosive cocktails. Elsewhere, officers drilled the men in stations. Pairs of warriors sparred with wooden armaments, large groups practiced shield formations. Archers and dwarves tested their honed accuracy on targets, while also brushing up on close combat techniques. The Elrics occasionally got up to spar, and spent some time helping to fashion explosives. Mostly, they just stood back and observed all the activity.
"I dunno, Ed. They lack modern weaponry and sophisticated alchemy, but all the same I think these people are impressive. They're dedicated and they cooperate, despite racial differences. I'm glad we've made some friends here. Our military could learn something from the soldiers of this world."
"I wouldn't go so far as to call them all friends, brother. Those dwarves seem fiercely independent and prideful. I'd like to learn more about those fir'Bolg. And why only humans seem to be in command here beats me. But yeah, these people definitely seem willing to tolerate one another and strive for a goal."
"It's because their homes are in danger. They're fighting to defend their very way of life, kinda like the Ishbalans."
"Exactly like the Ishbalans, Al. That comparison…certainly makes my perspective of our military even clearer. Our troops, even our fellow state alchemists, did things comparable to the actions of those Fallen Lords. And for what? Doesn't make any sense."
Ed hunched his shoulders. His eyes clenched shut as he fought to halt the racing, confused emotions in his heart.
"I'll never be a true dog of the military, Al. Even if it means disobeying direct orders. I couldn't bear having such crimes on my conscience. My soul's weighed down by enough sin already."
"We'll get our bodies back, brother," Al laid a gauntlet upon his brother's shoulder, "Then we'll put everything to rights. You'll see."
A few moments of silence passed for the brothers, oblivious to buzz of martial activity nearby.
Ed nodded and Al let his arm fall away. The older brother rolled his shoulders and neck a bit, then straightened up again. As they returned to watching the training exercises, Ed also resumed the conversation.
"You said they didn't have alchemy. But there is something else. The magic wielded by Rabican. Above all things, that's something I want to study closely."
"They called the fight with Shiver a dream duel. What does that mean? It doesn't sound like alchemy. We definitely need more information."
Bernard appeared on the fringe of the training activities. He weaved through the proceedings, occasionally nodding to an officer, as he made his way towards the Elrics.
"Let's see what the captain has in store for us, Al. Maybe that will get us some where."
As Bernard approached, Ed folded his arms in a subtle demonstration of insolence. The captain still had yet to win the young alchemist's full regard.
"There you are. How does the camp life treat you both?" the captain inquired with only half-interest, his mind obviously concerned with other matters.
"Just fine, thank you!" Only Al politely responded. Ed kept his reserved pose as he grimly looked up at Bernard.
"Did your mother teach you such disrespect?" Bernard scoffed at Ed.
"Do not speak of my mother, Captain. I respect those who earn it and to those who return it. Your men have done both for me. But you've yet to do either."
"Where I come from, men don't heed the opinions of untried youth."
"And where I come from, I am a recognized official of the state," Ed reached into his pocket to produce a silver watch ingrained with the Presidential crest and the hexagram of the alchemist corps.
"They call me the Fullmetal Alchemist. You've seen my alchemy save lives, you've witnessed my skill in combat. And this object may mean nothing to you, but in my home this is a mark of authority, a confirmation of my power. Yes, I am young, but I hold a rank that men twice my age struggle to attain for years. Knowing this, would you still consider me an inferior, an untried youth?"
Bernard only gave the watch a glance and a dismissive grunt.
"What I think of you isn't relevant now. What matters now is what the Nine think of you. And they must think a great deal of both of you, Alphonse and Edward, because they want to see you. That's right, you've been granted an audience at their chambers within the hour. And unless you want to be late, which I would not advise, then you best follow me in all haste."