When I die, will they remember not
What I did, but what I haven't done?
It's not the end that I fear with each breath
It's life that scares me to death.
Rumors of my Demise Have Been Greatly Exaggerated, Rise Against
Chapter Two: Duties
"Ah, Flame, Holy. I see you two have finally decided to join the rest of your fellow alchemists." Fuhrer King Bradley had an unfaltering smile as the two of us had joined the rest of the alchemists in the line up. "Now, time for business." The Fuhrer's smile had dropped, but only by a fraction. "It is your job to end this war quickly. I'm counting on you, the State Alchemists of Amestris, to fulfill your duties, ASAP." Each of the Alchemists, consisting of Gran, Armstrong, Mustang, myself, and two others that I was yet to be introduced to.
"Yes sir!" We all shouted in unison, ending with a salute.
"The train will leave tomorrow morning at 7:00am sharp." With that, we were dismissed.
The following morning, I had awoken myself at 5:30, to ensure that I wouldn't be late. My daily routine had usually taken around an hour and walking to Central headquarters was about 20 minutes. Hopefully, I'd get there on time.
As I'd stepped out of the shower, I immediately began to scrunch my hair up to the root, curling it in the process. With my hair set, I got dressed in my basic uniform. Today, I wore the puffy blue military pants; It'd be more than a little strange to see a woman in a skirt whose fighting in war. With my black tank top hugging my body, I placed my jacket over myself, covering my exposed skin. My deep red-brownish hair shined slightly as it began to dry slowly, I sprayed my locks into place. My bangs had abstracted the rest of my mahogany hair, being straight and parted to the left.
With my basics complete, all that was left was to do the details. I applied a thin layer of eyeliner to both the top and bottom, along with a volume enhancing coat of mascara. My eye lashes fanned out quite well as I blinked, my deep forest green eyes peaking out from beneath them.
As I finished up in the bathroom, I headed out to my room to check the time. 6:23. So I had approximately 15 minutes to have a decent breakfast, brush my teeth and say good-bye to Caden.
I crept quietly into Caden's room after having a healthy breakfast, and brushing my teeth twice.
"Caden." I whispered, he groaned in response. "I'm leaving, sweetie." He looked over to me with half lidded eyes.
"You'll be safe, right?" He murmured tiredly as he reached a hand to my face. I smiled weakly.
"Of course I will. You behave for Aunt Lacey, okay kiddo?" He nodded faintly before drifting back to sleep. I kissed his forehead and cheek before tucking him in. Without making too much noise, I closed his door, and rushed down the stairs.
With much haste, I pulled my black boots on and tucked my uniform pants into them.
The walk had been pleasant, although it was slightly rushed. My tote bag that carried my belongings was becoming a slight annoyance, but I remembered it was a necessity. It contained spare clothes, my pajamas, toiletries, and other basic objects that I would need for my stay. In a way, it was kind of funny. Walking down the street with a big bag of clothes, it reminded me of when I would have sleepovers at my friends houses. I sighed, missing the memories.
Lacey, one of my close friends, had become a house wife already. Happily married and probably expecting a kid now. Haley, the other close friend, had probably followed her dream to be in the musician's industry. She always did play the piano magnificently, it was her calling. And here I was, in the military, heading off to war.
I ended up at Central, still reveling in my memories. I hadn't even noticed that one of the other alchemists were here, I still paid no mind to him. Well, I didn't, until he spoke to me.
"Now the military's letting in female alchemists?" He snorted, until I looked up at him. His sickly sadistic smirk was over my head.
"I suppose so. Is that a problem?" My forest shaded eyes burn directly into his topaz ones, his smirk never faltered.
"Not really, just intriguing." There was silence as I finally tore my eyes away from his. I could hear his footsteps come close; he took a seat beside me. "What's your name?" He asked casually, reciprocating the way I was propped up. Laying back on one hand, the other resting on my knees.
"I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours first."
"Zolf J. Kimbley, the Crimson Alchemist." By the sound of his voice, he sounded very proud of the State Title he was given.
"Faythe H. Chevalier, the Holy Alchemist."
"That's a fancy title," He commented, my eyes rolled. "How'd you get that one?"
I remembered yesterday, when Hughes explained it having to do something with my middle name.
"I don't know, I'm not the Fuhrer." I answered, he let out a short laugh. There was a silence. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't exactly comforting either.
"So why are you all primped up when we're going out to war?" I shot Kimbley a questioning glance.
"Primped? I'm not, I just don't like doing the same thing everyday." He cocked an eyebrow at me, but I just ignored it. "I like being different." I added, he nodded in understanding.
"Then I guess that makes two of us."
Kimbley and I had continued to converse with each other until soon enough, all the designated alchemists had arrived. Roy had taken a stance at my side, looking questioningly from me to Kimbley. As we filed and boarded on our train, we each picked out carts. I decided to stick with Roy, and we shared a cart together.
"What were you and Crimson doing together?" He finally asked, breaking the silence. I looked to him in disbelief. Did he honestly think that I would "do" something with someone I had just met?
"Talking, why?" He let out a semi-frustrated growl.
"Faythe…" He paused, looking up at me with charcoal eyes. "I don't trust him, okay? We're friends, and I don't want him to end up doing something to you."
"Are you saying he's a bad person?" He shook his head briefly.
"I just have a gut feeling not to trust him." I took a seat beside him, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck.
"Roy, I can take care of myself. But thank you for watching out for me." He took his free hand and pressed it to one of mine. "Besides, it's not like he's going to do anything to me." He looked at me, taking his hand away.
"And why would you say that?"
"Where do I begin?" I laughed bitterly. One by one, I told Roy of my boy problems -or lack thereof- that I would only complain to Lacey or Haley about.
Roy and I had talked for many aimless minutes, my hopelessness still being the target topic of our conversation. Two hours had passed, although it had only seemed like seconds. Roy announced that we still had about two more hours until we reached our destination. He decided to pass it by, by sleeping. I, however, preferred to spend my time eating. It's not like I could finish a decent meal in an less than an hour anyways.
I was barely half way done with my lunch, although one hour had already passed.
"Mind if I join ya?" Although he had asked, he had already taken a seat across from me.
"Hi to you too, Kimbley." I muttered, his smirk making me uneasy. Actually, it kind of bothered me. What exactly made him do that? The silence made it even worse, but I still continued to eat as if I hadn't had a problem.
"Are you excited for the war?" He asked curiously. I stared at him in shock.
"Are you kidding me? Why the hell would I be excited for war?" I didn't mind voicing my opinion and personal thoughts. Apparently, he didn't either.
"When you see me on the battlefield, you'll see why I'd be excited."
"Should I be afraid?"
"I would be if I were you." I laughed loudly, allowing my head to fall back. My genuine laugh caused his smirk to fall. "And what exactly is so funny?"
After finally calming down, I answered him with, "Sorry Kimbley, but you aren't as scary as you think you are." With that, he stood up abruptly, his chair screeching across the wooden floor. Kimbley walked to the side of me, and yanked my head towards him. Now, the fear began to slowly rise within me.
"W-what're you-" I wasn't allowed to finish. He yanked me up and threw me over his shoulder, all I could see was his back. "CRIMSON! PUT ME DOWN!" He laughed maniacally as he swung me around, tossing me up and down, and other mechanisms to raise my fear.
I heard the opening of a door, and noticed we had entered an empty cart. He threw me down onto the cushioned seats. I was able to see his usual sadistic grin, as his golden eyes stared down at me.
"Still don't think I'm scary?" I shook my head, until he confined me between his arms and legs.
Still, no matter how trapped I was, I wasn't that afraid. Well…maybe a little. Or a lot. Since I had constantly told Kimbley he wasn't terrifying, he was just trying to push it now. Slowly, he bent his arms at a ninety degree angle, until his chest and stomach were barely touching mine. "And now?" Once again, I shook my head. With a growl, he no longer held himself up, and pressed his entire body onto me, his mouth at my neck.
"Now?" He asked breathlessly.
"Zolf J. Kimbley, you are one terrifying alchemist." He let out a hushed laugh, but made no motion to move away.
"And this isn't even all that I can do." I didn't want to challenge him again, I was afraid to see his best. "But then again, you might die of fear if I keep going." The victory in his voice was so tempting to challenge, but I knew I shouldn't push it.
"You know, you could get off me." Because somebody might walk in and get the wrong idea, I added mentally. He laughed again, pressing himself closer, as if that were even possible.
"I could, but I'm not sure if I want to. You're comfy." I growled. I wasn't a pillow!
"Kimbley, get off before I show you why they call me the Holy Alchemist." He finally did release his weight from me, but not because he felt threatened.
"Why do they call you that? You never told me." He reminded me of earlier this morning. I shrugged. Truly, I wasn't sure why I had been given the title. "C'mon Faythe, spill."
"I don't see any reason to. It's just a name." He slouched beside me on the seat, as I glanced out the window. He let out a sigh.
"Do you not trust me?" He pleaded, causing me to look over at him with false sympathy.
"Not really, no." In a joking manner, his jaw dropped.
"After all we've been through!" I laughed at his mock horror.
"So then, what do you wanna know?"
Kimbley and I had talked until the train had stopped. He basically had asked about my life story. Why I was in the military, what I wanted to be instead, my friends and family, and so many more things. Heck, he could practically write a biography about me, but it's not like anybody would read it anyways. Still, he knew everything about me, but I knew nothing of him. When I'd asked, he'd reply with 'It's nothing of importance.'
We arrived to our designated camp area, which looked like a regular campsite in a desert. There were many rows of tents, designed for the regular soldiers, but there were 4 tents designed for us, excluding the meeting room and the showering area. I wasn't too fond at the thought of some of us having to share tents.
"All alchemists, report to the meeting room immediately!" Lieutenant Colonel Gran was already on top of the case. I left from Kimbley's cart on the train and went to Roy's to grab my tote bag.
"Where were you?" He asked, yawning slightly at the end. I shrugged.
"Here and there." He eyed me suspiciously, but knew that trying to press it wouldn't get him anywhere. "I'm fine." I added, just so he wouldn't become a mother on me. I caught Roy rolling his eyes as we exited the train, and walked together to the meeting room.
"Each of you will share a tent with one of your partners, not including Armstrong or myself." Lt. Colonel Gran announced. They were probably too big to share a tent with anyone, anyways. "In Tent C9 will be Crimson and Holy, while Armstrong is in C10, and Flame and Crystal in C7." I could already feel Kimbley's smirk. Wonderful. "Dismissed!"
I had my side of the tent, already set and designed to seek my desires. It wasn't much, mostly it was just my items being splayed across one of the tables. I did, however, manage to bring a few pencils and a sketchpad, for the days commands weren't being given like today. Kimbley was nowhere in sight, although I didn't mind that much. The silence was calming, tranquilizing almost. I thought now might be the perfect opportunity to add in a sketch to my collection before actually heading off into battle.
The time had been nice, not hearing a million questions being rushed at me. Within my time limit, I had managed to complete a brand new sketch of a bird taking off into a sunset, and a couple sitting on a bench. The woman had her arm held up, as if she had the bird resting along her fingers and released it. The man was doing nothing particularly special, just watching his wonderful partner.
"You're quite talented."
"Ahh!" I literally jumped three feet in the air, my sketch pad falling onto the bed, whereas there was enough space for Kimbley to catch me. "Kimbley! Did you have to scare me?" He laughed before dropping me onto my bed, careful not to destroy my recent creation.
"Sorry." His sarcasm dripping from his tone. My eyes rolled, as he turned away with a huff. I wanted to ask him why the hell he was here, but I suddenly remembered him and I were to be roommates. Wonderful.
"Where did you learn to draw like that?" His curiosity seemed to get the better of him.
"Dunno, natural talent, I suppose." I answered with a shrug, he grinned.
"What other 'natural talents' do you have?" I cocked my eyebrow, not sure if his double meaning was what I think it was.
"And what exactly do you mean by that Kimbley?" He laughed with a snort and said nothing. Our conversation had stopped from there, and I felt I could finally relax completely. I placed my sketch book and other artistic materials onto one of my tables, and collapsed on my bed.
I hadn't awoken until the next day; I must have been exhausted. My roommate laid still in his bed, I was debating to give him a rude awakening or be fair and let him sleep. The second idea had stained my thoughts. Making my bed, I grabbed my uniform from the table beside it. Whilst standing on the balls of my feet, I exited my tent and headed towards the makeshift showers. These makeshift objects were sorry excuses for showers, hell they barely had walls. I had to cover myself making a sand wall!
"Stupid friggin' shower." I muttered, walking back into my tent with my already drying hair. First day, war hasn't even started, and I already hated being here. The water had stopped just as I finished with my hair, I hadn't washed my body yet. I still felt gross.
"Alright, why is the sweet little angel mumbling and grumbling to herself?" Kimbley asked playfully as I entered our tent. Seems like he just woke up.
"The shower's a bitch." I muttered in disgust; he let out a howl of laughter. I sat on the edge of my bed, brushing my mahogany locks into their normal array. They were parted on the far right, my bangs sweeping over my left eyebrow, and somehow resting on my eyelashes. The last and final touches went on, with a thin film of eyeliner on my lower lid, and two coats of mascara.
"I don't get why you bother trying to look all pretty when we're going out to war." Kimbley commented, grabbing his uniform in preparation for a shower. "You're probably going to end up becoming blood-stained anyways."
I tried not to let his words bother me. "If I'm going to be killing," I moved onto my opposing eyelashes, making the black look beyond noticeable. "I may as well do it in style, right?" He laughed before exiting our tent.
One by one, the State Alchemists filed into the meeting tent; apparently Gran had something he wanted to run by us, before we were ready to kill. I wasn't particularly fond of having to go through with this, but I was a soldier. It was my duty to do as I was told, right?
I sat idly on a crate, while Mustang was standing in front of me, Kimbley across. He was filing his nails. "Oh, and I'm the one whose trying to look pretty?" He ignored my rude remark, shaping his nails perfectly. Colonel Gran looked up as the sound of the vinyl tent door opened. Marcoh walked in with a small suitcase type of luggage. I wasn't exactly paying attention, I only picked up on a few words. All I was truly aware of, was that each of us were given a strange red stone, the item that was confined to his casing, and the stone had been added to costume jewelry. Roy wore his like a ring, which gave me an idea. I hastily slid off my boot and placed my own small alchemic ring onto a toe, and slid my boot back on.
"Well then, what are you standing around for, move out men!" We had no choice, but to obey.
That's all for now, I'm happy to have finally updated, although I'm not even sure if anyone's reading this.
Err Disclaimer! I do not own any publicly recognizable characters, objects, or songs. I do, however, Own Faythe and Caden Chevalier. You steal them, and I'll have Gluttony eat chuu O: