AMESTRIS--1951
Not all stones used in Alchemy were created at the cost of human life….at least not in Xing.
For the better part of his life they were stuffed into his pocket. His mother had crafted the lambskin pouch so that each gem was safely tucked in its own corner and the whole was sewn into what appeared to the curious as a faded tea pouch, smelling faintly of banchai and dried plum blossoms. If shaken open, it even yielded a few crumbling bits and twigs. "One of my mother's brews," Roy would comment dryly if anyone happened to see him take it out of his pocket. "Nasty stuff, but she believes it will prevent the joint ail that runs in her family."
"Does it work?" someone would inevitably ask, and agile fingers would triple-snap, flames spiraling the enquirer, close enough to crisp a few arm hairs. Mustang would then wiggle his fingers and tuck the packet away with a smug grin.
Alone, sometimes, he'd contemplate the real contents of the tea packet. A golden pearl, big as his thumbnail. A sphere of dark purple amethyst, clasped in a pair of silver hands, long fingers laced to keep the stone in place. A small, flat disk of palest jade, the alchemic glyph for longevity cast in gold and bound to its center.
The fourth stone was the one that interested Roy Mustang the most. It was also the heaviest. A square carved of rare lapis linguis, called lazulite by the Amestrian Alchemists, nearly an inch long on each side, its face carved with twenty-two diamond-shaped facets. Twenty-two facets—that's twice times eleven, the Master's Number. Ten branches of the Tree of Wisdom—and one for the Unknown, the Leap of Faith each Alchemist must make to face what he fears to learn about the Truth.
The pearl was for the begetting of children. Elycia Hughes wore it proudly on her wedding day, and on the day Roy Mustang's body was laid to rest beside his best friend, Maes'grave was thick with floral tributes from grands and great-grands who drank to his memory with love every holiday.
On the day of her inauguration as President of Amestris, Riza Hawkeye's husband proudly fastened the silver clasp of the gem that had been delivered by Maria Ross. The President-Elect tucked the amethyst out of sight, along with the message that accompanied it: "Wisdom" is its name and its purpose. I intended to use it as Fuehrer. It will serve our nation more fittingly in your hands as President. At the end of her many years in office, she presented the amethyst to her successor—and he in turn to his….but only the State Alchemists knew of this, as it fell to them as an official duty to insure the protection and proper use of what was to be called the Gem of State of Amestris.
That snowy night in 1951 when Roy Mustang made his preparations to enter the Gateway through the Portal Stone in Briggs Mountain, he contemplated the last two stones—the jade and the lazulite. Alphonse Elric had been sent to wait in Roy's transport a mile up the path towards the mouth of the cavern. His daughter, Tricia, lay unconscious by the fire, recovering from the complicated act of Tantric Alchemy that allowed her to leave her body untenanted so that the spirit of her uncle, Edward, might enter in and say his final farewells to the Colonel he had loved for half a century from the Earth side of the Gateway.
He had been holed up in this cavern—this lair—for months, fire-bombing the glyph-covered Portal Stone, trying to force his way between the worlds, to be reunited with Fullmetal before his sick and wounded body crumbled around him—or before President Hawkeye had him admitted to some cushy veteran's hospices where he'd be strapped to a wheelchair and fed mush by some slip of a girl with bright eyes—and big breasts he would not be encouraged to fondle. That's no way for a soldier to die, he'd told the Elrics. Alphonse had reacted violently at Roy's decision to accompany them back to Earth, certain that the old Colonel would never survive the journey. It was tantamount to suicide, Alphonse argued. Tricia, on the other hand, agreed with Mustang. If you won't take him through, Daddy, I will!
And so she would, in a little while. Alphonse would return. Using what they had learned of Hoenheim's portal stone, they would open the Gateway. They would safely return home…and his life would be offered in exchange for their passage. Roy Mustang, would die, abandoning his failing flesh, clinging to the promise held in Edward's last words:
"You've got to remember this! I want you to keep repeating this, over and over and over, right up through the Gateway! 'My father's name was Roy Rodgers from Blackpool, England. He flew a P-51 Mustang airplane. He was a pilot. My mother was from Kokura, Japan. She was a nurse. Her name was Miyazaki Hikari . My father was Roy. My mother was Hikari. They met in Tokyo after the war. They never married. I was named Taisa Roy Mustang. My clan name is Miyazaki Taisa. I will study chemistry at Berkeley in America. On October 3rd, 1975, I will make sure I'm in the alley between the men's dorms around 10pm, pacific time—and I will not run when the lacrosse players come to beat the crap out of me. I will wait for Hughes and Tricia.' You've got to remember this! You are Taisa Roy Mustang—and Edward is waiting. Find me," he gasped as Roy kissed him farewell. "Damn you, Mustang! You…have to find…me…."
He had kept the jade for Edward all along—and now that he had seen the golden hair and nearly unlined cheeks of 101-year-old Alphonse, it became clear that Fullmetal would have no need of it. Daddy was the carrier of the actual Philosopher's Stone, Teddy had told him, and Edo's been exposed to vast energies when he activated the array in Lab 5. He got hit with the full force of the alchemic reaction. It changed their DNA, Roy. They're like Hoenheim now. They won't live forever—and they refuse to take the bodies of others as Grandfather did…but they've been changed for good. And because of this, my brother and sister and I aren't aging normally either. But it's going to be hard for our loved ones. I mean—you'll be with Edward again, but he's going to have to watch you wither and die of old age…and it's going to break his heart.
How ironic, he mused to himself. The people of Xing studied Retanjutsu in a quest for immortality. Emperor Ling Yao even abandoned his soul to allow Greed to overshadow him in hopes of living forever. And now the Elric family has managed the near-impossible feat of extending their lives far beyond the norm…only to have to watch their loved ones die before them.
"Or…maybe not." Tugging a fresh pair of ignition cloth gloves from his rucksack, he sat down at his crude wooden table crafted from scraps of a discarded packing crate. Working the seam free from the cuff, he separated the fine silk lining from the outer layer of ignition cloth, too coarse to wear against bare skin. It took some effort but he was able to push the tiny jade disk up through the layers and into the tip of the left ring finger. Teddy will give these to Taisa if I ask her. As long as Taisa kept the stone, it might protect and extend his life. And in the end…when they can't run and hide anymore on Earth…maybe they'll want to come home.
Tricia stirred, still deeply asleep. Mustang glanced at her fondly. Her sacrifice, she reluctantly confided to him before they began their Tantric rite, was one she was loathe to admit even to herself. "I—I loved Taisa, you see," she confided, avoiding his eyes. "Right from the moment Hughes and I dragged him out of that alley where those frat boys were beating him half to death. I mean…I knelt down in the dirt and took him in my arms…and that was that. And it was damned clear from the start that it was Hughes he wanted, even though I knew he cared for me. So…I decided to be the best friend he'd ever have—and when I realized he'd gone over the moon over meeting Uncle Edo, I decided I'd do everything in my power to bring them together and keep them that way, if that was what made Taisa happy. "
"But you love each other, yes?"
"Absolutely. In all ways except…one. And I laid that aside—that longing. That was my first real alchemy…transmuting romantic love and desire—eros—into agape, the love of the spirit. But Hoenheim—" she scrubbed her forehead as if it ached terribly, "—made me feel that love again—said I had to accept that pain, to let myself hurt—so we could…do...this."
"You did it to help me."
"You and Edo. Exactly." She wasn't smiling.
"I don't understand how I could deny you," he told her. "Perhaps if we had been lovers that longing would have been fulfilled and it wouldn't have hurt you so terribly all these years."
"You…tried. Once." It was obivous that even discussing it caused her pain. And when we drew the array and merged in the rite so that Edward could speak to me, all that emotion…the power…all that was a lifetime of longing and love she felt for Taisa, love she'd laid aside for his sake…and she gave it to me and to Edward as a gift to help us find one another...
Tricia, wife of Hoenheim—who sacrificed everything for her young sons.
Tricia, reborn—daughter of Alphonse, sacrificing her own heart for Edward and for Taisa. Never marrying. Never bearing children. As alone in her way as he had been here in Amestris, waiting for a way home to Fullmetal.
Presently, he nodded, mind made up. "There's not a lot I can change in this world," he told the candle flame that guttered smokily from where he'd jammed the talow candle into the mouth of a dusty whisky bottle. "But equivalent exchange is the law of the universe—and it's time for me to balance the debt."
The note to the President was sealed—and quite specific. Tricia Edward Elric—and her disciples and decendants—would be the heirs of his estate. Miss Elric is my disciple in the art of Alchemy—as such she is sole owner of my alchemic notes, diaries, research and personal effects that have not been willed elsewhere. She has passed my strenuous testing with high marks, specialising in Tantric Alchemy. It is my request that she be given the honorary rank of State Alchemist and the title Spiral Alchemist be bestowed upon her. I also request clemency for her father, Alphonse, and guaranteed sanctuary for the Elrics and their students should any of them return to Amestris.
Second—the instructions for his rebirth given by Edward. He would ammend them:
…I will wait for Hughes and Tricia. I will embrace them both, equally, as lovers and friends. We three will cherish one another the whole of our lives. Hughes will find Gracia. I will find Edward…and Tricia will find lasting happiness with the man who will love her with the full measure of devotion she gave to Taisa--and who lost so many lovers because of me. Tricia will find Jean Havoc."
"And third….this. For your family. For your disciples. A way home."
Kneeling in the ashes of the hearth, he scrawled an array in the dirt. Smiling a little, he plucked a gold button from his jacket, a silver one from his coat-tail.
She never felt the needle that gently pricked her fingertip, nor did she miss that drop of crimson that he caught on the stone's face. A quick jab and a drop of his own blood was dripped to blend with hers on the face of the stone, which was then laid in the heart of the array with the two buttons.
Once upon a time, months ago, he'd taken a hammer to Hoenheim's stone in sheer frustration. A splinter from that blow was laid upon the lazulite, the blood staining them both.
A little gold. A little more silver. Lazulite. The strange green stone shaped by Hoenheim of Light. His blood…and Elric blood.
The brilliant scarlet flash made her eyelashes flutter. "Roy? Colonel? Wha--?"
Mustang tucked the blankets around her bare shoulders. "Shhhhh….it's nothing. Go back to sleep."
His mother would have worn it with pride.
A tiny golden sphere of the sun, laced with horns of the moon in delicate silver, curled around a heavier silver setting for a large faceted stone of midnight blue, veined with gold and deep green. The bail was adorned with a triple spiral, like the one on Tricia Elric's array, the one he'd complained was too time consuming to draw in a hurry.
He touched it to the Portal Stone—and for an instant it went from shimmering and opaque to clear as green water. "All right," he nodded to the sleeping woman at his feet. "Your grandfather made the doorway. And now, I've made the key…"
AMESTRIS—NOW
"….TRINGHAM! Where the devil are you, boy?"
Josh Tringham guiltily jammed the strange trinket in his pocket, right beside the cryptic note from one Zolf Kimblee—the one threatening the life of Maes Hughes if Mustang didn't respond to his sexual overtures:
"Hughes had your ass. I own it now. Might want to read through this. Want you to know what they'll do to you if I tell them what kind of sandwiches you boys were making when I caught you.
"Show this to anybody and Hughes is dead."
Old "Dickless" Dickinson's sweaty face peered through the office door. "Come on, boy! Don't dawdle! This is the most important relic in our collection and I want you to have that camera ready when we get it out of the crate!"
"Wha—what is it, sir?" Josh stuttered, worried that Dickless might notice he'd been prying into that sealed crate of Brigadier General Mustang's personal effects again.
"The array stone, you thickwit! They dredged it out of Lake Armstrong. Rumor has it that it was the work of Hoenheim of Light….
RISEMBOOL SOUTH—NOW
We have no secrets—
We tell each other everything—
About the lovers in our past—and why they didn't last
We share a cast of characters from A to Z
We know each other's fantasies
And tho' we know each other better when we explore—
Sometimes I wish—Oftimes I wish
That I never, never, never knew—some of those secrets of yours
Narrow black eyes became inky slits. One corner of the mouth quirked down. One eyebrow shot up. The head tilted slightly to the left. There was a low, irritated rumble from deep in the chest that might have sounded sexy under a different set of circumstances.
Ai-San, who had arrived last night, escorted by Denny Brosh, glanced at Taisa and nodded in sympathy. The Elrics were wonderful people as a rule, but even the most patient of souls couldn't help but become thoroughly frustrated on occasion by the family tendency to Clam Up When It Really Matters. "Damn it," she'd heard Mustang rant back home in Tokyo, "do I have to shove an explosive charge up his rectum to get him to open his goddamned mouth? Jesus!"
It surprised her that it was Tricia-San this time that had Mustang grinding his teeth and muttering under his breath. "This is ridiculous," he growled, bombing his coffee mug with another spoonful of sugar before adding another splash of hazelnut creamer. "We have no secrets. None. Hell," he set down his cup with a bang, "I'm the only person in the world who actually knows how much she weighs—oh, gomen, Ai-san!" Grabbing a napkin, he mopped up the mess that slopped over his saucer. "No, let me—you're not here to keep house! Teddy'd kill me if I let you lift a finger to clean around here."
"And I will grow fat and lazy if I don't, Mustang-san. With Izumi-chan sleeping there is not much for me to do right now. I told Tricia-San that I would be happy to cook for her, but Jeanne-Marie-San has already filled the refrigerator to the bursting point. Would you like me to make you some onigiri? I stopped at the Saigon Market . I have umeboshi and nori, and Tricia-San says she always keeps furikake in the pantry."
The mention of the classic Japanese rice seasoning—seaweed, sesame seed, shaved fish and bits of dried vegetables—always made Mustang grin, never forgetting the night when Teddy slipped at the dinner table and commented on how much she liked the bukakke on her rice balls. Ed was laughing so hard he put a dent in the table, pounding his fist and howling at her. Teddy snatched up one of the rice balls, marched around the table and smashed it on her uncle's head. Alphonse bit his lip and rolled his eyes heavenwards before collapsing into chuckles, while Jeanne-Marie and Remy looked mystified until Mustang informed them just how Freudian her slip had been. Since then, Roy had teased Teddy mercilessly every time rice appeared at the dinner table—or was even mentioned. At her handfasting he had slipped a jar of furikake into her suitcase before she and Remy left for the hotel—and tied a tiny pearl necklace around the jar, along with a note that read "Remy—don't forget—Teddy likes furikake on her balls".
When the pair returned from their two nights at the Battery Carriage House, he fully expected her to give him seven holy hells for hiding the furikake in her bag…but she didn't even mention it. Whatever the hell those two had seen while running around playing Scooby Doo And The Mystery of The Gentleman Ghost from Germany had apparently freaked the pair out so badly they weren't saying much more than hi and good to be home and where's Izumi?
He had cornered Teddy in the nursery after giving her some time alone with her daughter. "Okay—spill it."
"Huh?"
"What the hell is this winter in Munich shit, and why did some dead German rocket scientist decide he had to barge in on you and the Cajun on your wedding night?"
"It's…complicated." He waited. She fiddled with her daughter's soft black hair, avoiding his eyes. Finally, she offered him an apologetic glance. "Taisa," she said softly, "when I can talk about it, I will. I promise."
Havoc? Sympathetic, but no help at all. "Oncle Edouard and Papa Alphonse—they want us to wait, to talk it over privately. We'll gather the Red Coats tomorrow. Denny has updates on the Portal Stones to discuss. He's spending tonight at the Carriage House—Papa has arranged this."
Mustang frowned. "You think this Heiderich will speak to him?"
A Gallic shrug from Havoc. "Who knows? But there is more than that, my friend. Room Ten—"
"You were in Room Eight—"
"—which is where we saw Alfons Heiderich, yes. But twice we saw a flash of green light coming from the window and under the door in Room Ten. The Brothers think there might be a connection."
"Wait a minute!" Mustang looked alarmed. "Are you suggesting there might be another one of those goddamned stones…here? In bloody Charleston?"
Havoc looked thoughtful. "When Teddy was busy before the wedding, Maman and I took a walking tour downtown. The stones in the old streets and under the buildings—you knew that they were brought here in ships from Europe? Ballast, oui? And when the ships were unloaded, the stones were carted away for foundations. Some of those ships came from England…Germany. France. All countries where Hoenheim of Light left Portal Stones, aside from the Caribbean, the Atlantic coast and parts of the Pacific. Is it not in the realm of possibility that one of the stones—whole or in pieces—may have been laid under the foundation of the Battery?"
Well. Another petite tidbit of information that a goddamned Elric—or three—had neglected to share with him. Fuck.
Fine, then. He'd shut up and bide his time. Sooner or later, he'd get the truth out of them—even if he had to drag it out of them, one at the time. But he didn't like it, oh my, not at all…
"Mustang's got a sharp stick up his ass about something," Teddy sighed, watching her friend roar off in his rented Jeep from the music room window.
"Yeah," said a voice behind her. "Him and everybody else in this hell hole."
Edwin. "Hey," she cautioned gently, "this hell hole happens to be my house, kid."
"Oh, shit. Sorry, Aunt Tee." The kid looked genuinely upset.
"You look like you've been shot at and missed, shit at and hit. Wanna talk?"
He opened his mouth, then shut it abruptly. "Yeah," he muttered. "But maybe later."
"Okay. Hey, listen—if you want to, you can come up here any time and play around." She gestured towards the half-dozen guitars hanging on her walls, along with an f-body mandolin, a mountain dulcimer, an Irish bodhran drum and a kalimba—an African thumb piano. There was also a Korg keyboard, a small mixing board and a laptop computer with an MP3 recorder plugged into the USB port. "Check this out," she grinned, pointing at her newest toy. It was a Roland Cube—probably the best damned practice amplifier in the world. This one was dual channel—meaning he could hook a guitar in one jack, a microphone in the other and then run a line straight to the MP3 line and into his iPod. "Let me show you how it works. If you promise not to be too loud, you can lay down some tracks up here. We'll listen later and clean them up, run them through the board and burn them onto a CD—sound good?"
The way the kid was grinning as he bounded down the steps made her chuckle. "So that's the secret of raising kids, eh? Figure out their weakness—and exploit the shit out of it!"
Her smile faded abruptly when Edward strolled in, not bothering to knock. "Edo."
"Kiddo." He…just stood there. Waiting.
She could barely look at him. Finally, she cleared her throat softly. "If you were looking for Taisa—"
"I was looking for you. You—you saw him, didn't you? You saw Alfons Heiderich." Was it her imagination, or was there a hint of something…maybe…was it yearning…in her uncle's tone? Edo was a shitty liar, a crappy poker player and the easiest person in the world for her to worm secrets out of when she was a kid. There was a tension in his face, but the eyes…oh, those golden eyes were telling a different tale. Pain…god, look at him! She felt faintly sick—pushed it back. "I…yes. Yes. I saw Alfons Heiderich."
After a moment of uncomfortable silence Edward cleared his throat. "Wha—what…" He swallowed. He tried again. "Did he…?"
"He called you 'Meine Liebe", Edo."
Edward's head bowed. "Oh, god…" His head jerked up sharply. "Did…did you..?"
"Tell Taisa? That's your responsibility, isn't it? Remy says he's staying completely out of this, so don't ask." Something acidic was crawling up her throat, and all she wanted in the world at that moment was to shut herself up the nursery with Izumi and Gigi, to focus on their sweetness, their softness…their innocence.
And she desperately wanted her father, wished she was little again so she could climb into his lap and lay her head on Alphonse's shoulder, strong arms sheltering her as his quiet voice whispered over and over that the bad dreams were over, she was safe and he'd chase all the monsters out from under the bed.
She'd learned that the world wasn't safe when she saw Taisa Mustang being beaten half to death when she was eighteen.
She learned the world wasn't innocent when Alphonse told her the truth about the sins of the Elric brothers—what they had done to her, the monster she became because of their mistakes.
And now…ohh god!
That sweet faced, gentle voiced phantom that appeared to her in the Carriage house—how warmly he had greeted her! In his broken English he had called her such a pretty little mädchen, said he could see clearly how she looked like her grandmother's picture—the one Herr Hoenheim had shown him that winter in Müchen, when he and Edward had spent Christmas together, that first winter, when nights glowed with candles and soft carols rang from the rafters of even the poorest of homes. The smell of coffee and liebkuchen—love cakes—spiced with ginger—a bite for you, a bite for me, we share this together, ja? For there is not quite enough to go around this winter. Not enough food. Not enough coal. Not enough blankets. No Dad—it's okay. Alfons can stay in here with me. We'll probably talk all night anyway. See you in the morning.
It was just…so cold. So cold and so lonely. So good to feel another person's warmth. He lay there on Christmas eve after enduring that god awful midnight service, just so he could hear Heiderich's warm tenor in the choir. Stille Nacht, Heilig Nacht…and they raced each other home in the snow until they stumbled on the ice, falling together, laughing fit to burst, lying in the snow like mad drunkards. They rolled and yelled and wrestled and stuffed frosty handfuls down each other's backs until Alfons pinned Edward's shoulders, shoving him down, laughing as the tip of his nose disappeared, pressing him down until he was submerged completely, his golden ponytail wet and stringy with draped over the crusted whiteness.
Lemme up, you son of a bitch!
Make me, Ed-WARD!
Gerrroffme, damn you!
Haaahaaa! This time Germany beats England! Ahaahaaaa!
Son of a-- oh…ohhhhh.
The rich blue scarf Gracia had knitted to match his clear blue eyes was coiled around and around metal fingers that pulled him down..down…below the breast of the snow, which trickled down their flushed faces. Before he let Edward up, Alfons had gently licked the crystal flakes that clung to Ed's cheeks and eyelashes
When they got up, Edward didn't punch him…
"….and…your…your…father? What did you tell Alphonse?"
Teddy's eyes slid closed. "Nothing," she answered in a very small voice.
She felt his lips brush her forehead. When she opened her eyes, Edward was gone.
In the name of honesty
In the name of what is fair—
You always answer my questions…
But they don't always answer my prayers…
--Carly Simon, "No Secrets"
…To Be Continued…