AN: …I had meant for this chapter to come out a little earlier, but I was a bit slow in writing it as I tend to write down ideas as they jump into my head… Meaning I got distracted when I was writing, because I was coming up with ideas for future chapters. Eventually, however, I managed to sit myself down, and write out this chapter out in its entirety so I had something I could post. Anyway, thank you to those who took the time to review the first chapter. I appreciate your kind words. And now, here is chapter two!

As the train started slowing down, Roy shifted nervously in his seat. Looking out the window, he could see the small station where it would soon come to a halt, and when it did, he would be free to get out and meet the man he hoped would teach him Alchemy. His aunt had given him the details of her encounter with Master Hawkeye, stating that the man wanted to test him before agreeing to teach him. And she went on to say that he was somewhat of a jerk, though admitted he seemed very committed to his work and would probably make an excellent teacher. That was the part that mattered to Roy the most; he wanted a teacher who would expand on and complete his knowledge. He didn't particularly care if the man made him start from the very beginning, so long as he learned more than he knew now, which was mainly just knowledge that he could apply to helping his aunt out around the bar. Focusing on his reflection in the window, he took careful note of his appearance; his neat attire, determined dark eyes… And his short, untidy, black hair. Scowling, he tried unsuccessfully to pat it down.

"I don't think it's going to stay," his aunt commented as she watched him.

"I know," the boy sighed, his hands falling back down to his sides. "But there's no harm in trying. I should've slicked it back or something. I want to make a good impression."

She ran her own hand over his head. "That man didn't really seem too concerned with his own personal grooming, so why should he bother about yours? In fact, perhaps he might take it badly if you present yourself too neat…" With that thought in mind, she brutally mussed up his hair.

"Okay, okay!" Grumbling, he shoved her hand away. "Stop it!" He vainly attempted to comb his hair back into some kind of pseudo-neatness with his fingers while she chuckled. The train finally screeched to a halt and butterflies started dancing in his stomach anxiously. Though on the outside, he appeared rather composed, on the inside, he was a mess of nerves. He didn't want to fail Master Hawkeye's evaluation and have to go looking for another teacher. It had been hard enough to actually find someone who had enough knowledge to teach. If he failed here, he would have to attempt to search out another mentor, and who knew how long that would take? He had a chance, here and now, and he couldn't afford to fail. No… He wouldn't fail.

"I'm sure however you present yourself will be fine," his aunt remarked. "He'll probably be more concerned about your capabilities than how good you look." She paused. "At least, I hope so. He seems like that sort of man, anyway. The type that couldn't give a damn what you look like, as long as you can do what he asks of you."

"And I will," Roy replied. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, imagining his anxiety being expelled from his body by his breath. He met her eyes determinedly, feeling much calmer. "I'm going to make an impression!"

"I'm afraid that's exactly what you're going to have to do, Roy-boy. That man didn't seem like the type that's easily impressed. You've got your work cut out for you." She rose from her seat as the other train passengers were beginning to disembark, and he hurriedly did the same. "So don't screw it up."

"…It's nice to know you have so much faith in me," he muttered sarcastically. They got off the train together.

"I do have faith in you, Roy," she said kindly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But you can't afford to appear too complacent, as I'm afraid he might end up mistaking that for arrogance. Neither can you let him know how nervous you really are; he will probably see it as a weakness. Just be that sincere, firm, hardworking lad that you are. I just know he's floating around in you somewhere…"

"Ha." Of course she had to follow up her compassion with a joke at his expense. She did that a lot, but he had gotten used to it. He had been young when his parents had been killed in the train accident, and she had taken him into her home with no complaints and done her best to raise him herself. (Although her workers had often helped out when she was busy. Many of the older women fondly referred to him as their little brother.) Though she was stern and gruff with him a lot, he understood that she acted that way because that was the sort of woman she was, and it was the way she showed her affection. Though she only showed it openly in brief, private moments, like this one, he knew that she did love him and wanted to see him succeed in the life he had chosen. "I'll be careful, I promise."

"Good. Now, let's get going." She led him down the road and away from the station, into the town. The countryside out here, like most of the East, was rural area. Nearby paddocks were filled with grazing sheep and cattle, and it wasn't unusual to see people out with them, feeding the beasts or repairing fences. The few people they spotted on the road as they walked into the town were friendly, calling greetings, waving, or nodding as they passed. This place was smaller than East City, but its people were just as friendly. There were more people out and about in the depths of the town, but they were no less amiable. When Roy and his aunt finally came to a halt, it was in front of the house she told him belonged to Master Hawkeye.

She looked down at him. "Are you ready?"

Roy drew in another deep breath to calm himself. "Yes," he replied. "Let's do it." He pushed open the gate and she followed him down the path to the door. He took another second to prepare himself mentally, steeling himself for the task ahead, before knocking briskly. The door opened almost immediately to reveal a man of average height with dirty blond hair and sharp, critical eyes. He glared down at the boy.

"You're late," he growled. Roy looked up at his aunt, not having been aware that they were on some sort of schedule. Judging from her scowl, she had no idea either. "Come in, quickly!" The man turned around and walked off into the living room, leaving them standing at the door.

"Well…" His aunt ushered him forward, closing the door behind them. "Show him what you can do, Roy-boy." Roy went after Master Hawkeye into the living room. The man was seated on one of the couches, drumming his fingers impatiently on the arm. The low table in front of him had several books sitting on it. Roy stood on the other side of the table in front of the man, and his aunt stopped in the door, leaning back against the doorframe to watch.

"Sit," Master Hawkeye ordered. Roy obeyed, seating himself on the couch across from the man. He was going to be taking instructions from him if he had his way anyway. It was unlikely Master Hawkeye would change his abrupt behaviour at all if he did accept him. He would just have to get used to it. The man across from him eyed him intently from head to toe. Roy resisted the urge to let his hands wander back up to tend to his hair again, instead linking his fingers together and sitting them in his lap. He met Master Hawkeye's eyes attentively. The man's silent staring unnerved him somewhat, but he wasn't going to let him know that.

"What was your name, boy?" Master Hawkeye asked finally.

"Roy. Roy Mustang, sir."

"So… You want to be an Alchemist, Roy?"

"Yes sir."

"Why is that?"

Roy straightened in his seat. "I want to help people, sir."

"Why Alchemy? There are plenty of different ways you can be helpful to people. Why did you decide to start practicing Alchemy?"

Roy considered this for a moment, before answering. "Because I find it interesting. Learning about the make-up of different things… And applying that knowledge to breakdown and reshape them… The way Alchemy works is fascinating. And there are many different ways you can use Alchemy to benefit people's lives. I don't know much at the moment, but I want to change that. I know that it's not easy, and it's going to take time. But this is what I want to do."

Master Hawkeye seemed to think about his answer briefly, though it was impossible to tell if he approved or not. "What have you put into practice before?"

"I've transmuted glass, and wood. My aunt runs a bar in the city, and sometimes when the customers get a little too drunk they become clumsy or aggressive and break things. I wanted to study things that I could use to help her out."

"Hmm…" The man stood abruptly. "Come with me." He walked out the door around his aunt and Roy followed him into the kitchen. Striding over to one of the cupboards, he opened it, reaching in and pulling out a glass. It was a fairly simple design; the glass itself was plain, and the handle was thick, and shaped like a bird. The tail of the bird was fused with the base of the glass and its talons gripped just above that. The wings were tucked into its body and it gripped the top of glass with its beak. Master Hawkeye held the glass for a moment, weighing it in his hand, and in a sudden, violent motion, threw it on the floor. There was a loud smash as it broke. Producing a stick of chalk from one of his pockets, he held it out to Roy. "Fix that for me."

Roy took the chalk from him, unnerved by the unexpected display. "Just… Here on the floor sir?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "It will be cleaned up later. Do it."

Roy did as he was asked, sinking down to the floor, drawing his circle around the broken fragments and activating it, reforming the glass as he remembered it. When he was done, Master Hawkeye bent down and retrieved the finished product.

"Almost exactly like it was before…" the man muttered distractedly as he examined it. "You're very observant." He handed the glass back to Roy. "Change it into something different."

"Anything particular, sir?"

"Whatever comes to mind."

Roy thought for a moment, before sitting the glass back in the centre of the circle and changing a few of the symbols. He activated the circle again to change the glass. It flowed together into a solid mass, and from there, he re-shaped it into the form of his choosing. When he was done, he examined his handiwork. It was a dragon. Its head was thrown up into the air in a triumphant roar, flames billowing from its mouth. The delicate wings stretched out on either side of its body; its forelegs were extended, clawing the air. The long tail formed a circle around the body near the feet, the end joining back up near the base. One of the hind legs rested on the length of the tail in front of it, and the other supported in between its mate and the base of the tail, raised slightly on its toes. Roy picked up his creation and offered it to the man.

Master Hawkeye accepted the dragon from him. "Interesting…" He tapped the creature's tail lightly. "You positioned the tail and feet like that to form a solid base for the piece so it would compensate for the weight of the wings and flame?"

"Yes sir."

"Having the foresight to consider a problem like that beforehand is good." He held the dragon up to the light, twisting it around to examine each facet closely. "It could be more detailed, but it's a good effort nonetheless." He sat the dragon down on the table and turned his attention to Roy once more. "Let us attempt something else."

It continued on for about an hour, and they eventually ended up back in the living room. Master Hawkeye mainly drilled him with questions about his knowledge of Alchemy and, thankfully, didn't break anything else. Roy answered to the best of his ability. The way the man rapid-fired his questions was mildly overwhelming, but Roy kept his cool. If he had to think about an answer for a few moments, Master Hawkeye would urge him to hurry up and respond, making him feel a little flustered, but he didn't trip up when he replied. The man also wanted to see him work with wood, pulling an intricately carved wooden sculpture off of a shelf and giving it to Roy to work with. As he complied, Roy couldn't help but feel he was probably destroying what had once been someone's prized family heirloom. But if that were the case, then Master Hawkeye probably wouldn't have given it to him to use, right?

"I think we're just about done here," Master Hawkeye said finally.

Roy resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. "Was there something else you wanted me to do, sir?"

"There's just one more thing." Master Hawkeye reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone. It was shaped like an oval, smooth and polished, coloured black, with faint streaks of white showing like ghostly apparitions. He held it out to Roy who took it obediently. "Transmute this. It does not matter what you make it into, I just want to see what you do with it."

Roy stared at the stone is his hand, his mouth dry. He had never seen a stone like this before in his life. He had no idea what it was made out of. Would it be wise to admit as such to Master Hawkeye, or should he attempt Transmutation anyway and risk something going terribly wrong? If he admitted that he couldn't do what he asked of him, would Master Hawkeye refuse to teach him? He felt he had done so well thus far; he had answered all of the questions that had been put to him satisfactorily, and his attempts at transmutation had produced reasonable results as well. He had felt like he was on a roll, and nothing could bring him down. Nothing but the dark stone that sat in the palm of his hand. But if he attempted to transmute it, and failed, wouldn't he look like an even bigger fool than if he admitted that he couldn't do it? Master Hawkeye's piercing gaze as he waited was only making him feel worse.

Roy finally offered the stone back to the man, common sense outweighing his pride. "I'm sorry. I can't."

His eyebrows snapped together. "Why not?"

"I… I don't know what it's made of… I'm sorry."

The man stared at him for a moment before putting a hand over his face. Roy's heart sank. Had he just ruined his chance of being taught? Then Master Hawkeye began laughing lightly, shaking his head. He gestured for Roy to hand him the stone, and he complied. "Yes, you are quite correct. Only an idiot would attempt transmutation on an item he doesn't know the composition of." He held the stone between his fingers. "This stone is Agate. But we'll have to leave its composition for another time."

"Another time?"

"That's right." He slipped the stone back into his pocket. "If you're going to be my apprentice, then you'll have to come back, won't you? I'm thinking it will be convenient if you visit on the weekends. That way, giving you instruction won't interfere with my own research too much. Yes… Report to me on Fridays. I'll take you on the weekends, and you can return home on the Mondays. Does that sound satisfactory?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Stop calling me sir. I'm your Master now. Address me as such."

"Yes, Master," Roy responded immediately.

"So you'll teach him then?" His aunt piped up from her observation point.

"Did I not just say that?" Master Hawkeye asked irritably. "Yes, the boy has talent and potential. Enough, perhaps, to be a capable Alchemist. I have agreed to teach him. Isn't that what you wanted?" He turned back to the boy. "Report to me on Friday. I will see you again then."

"Thank you for the opportunity master! I won't disappoint you!"

"Yes, yes," the man grumbled as he stood. "I'm sure you'll do your best. Now, I have other things to attend to." With that, he walked out of the room, leaving them alone.

"I think we're supposed to show ourselves out," his aunt muttered. "Let's go, Roy-boy." They left the room also, to see Master Hawkeye ascending the stairs. Standing on the landing above, was a young blonde girl; the man's daughter, no doubt. His aunt had briefly mentioned her when recounting her previous visit.

When Master Hawkeye reached the landing, he paused, looking down at his daughter. "Roy Mustang is going to be staying with us on the weekends. Could you prepare one of the spare rooms for him?"

"Yes, father," she replied in a quiet voice.

"Thank you." He continued down the hall and there was a muffled thud as he closed the door to his study behind him.

The girl at the head of the stairs turned around and looked down at Roy as he stared up at her. It was… Just as bad as being scrutinised by Master Hawkeye, he decided. Though there was decidedly more curiosity on her face as she made her own silent appraisal of him, and less wariness. But the overall intensity of her gaze was the same. He couldn't help but wonder if it was perhaps a requirement for having the last name 'Hawkeye'. The birds themselves were known for their sharp eyes – a trait that seemed to run in the Hawkeye family. What had his aunt said her name was…? Riza… That was it. Riza broke the staring contest rather abruptly, turning around and walking in the opposite direction of her father. The sound of another door closing echoed downstairs.

"C'mon, Roy," his aunt called from the door. "Let's go. You'll be back here soon enough."

"Yeah…" Roy turned back to his aunt, hope filling his heart. "I will, won't I?" He smiled to himself. He finally had a teacher. He felt like he was moving forward, one great big step at a time.

If you made the effort to read this far, please review! Constructive criticism is welcome!