A/N: This is the result of me writing my post-manga headcanons into a fic because I couldn't stop thinking about them.
At the thriving centre of East City, there stands a tall rectangular building, humble in its ordinariness yet difficult for the roving eye to miss. Perhaps it is the bright red symbol painted above the front door – a cross with a curved line circling over the top of it and snaking downwards, capped with a winged crown – that attracts glances. Or perhaps it is simply the atmosphere of the place. Day in and day out, children and young adults laugh and chatter in the corridors and the air inside the classrooms is thick with zealous dedication and ruthless competitiveness. A typical day at the Academy involves frequent flashes of bright light from circles drawn all over the floors and concrete shapes rising with the mutability of liquid from within them. Occasionally there are minor accidents, usually resulting in students being sent to the healer's office with a bleeding nose or a sprained wrist and coming out as good as new.
Aside from the teachers regularly employed there, distinguished guest instructors make appearances from time to time. Brigadier General Roy Mustang, who was known somewhat ironically as the Hero of Ishval in years past but has now earned the nickname in full sincerity. Or Lieutenant Colonel Alex Louis Armstrong, the sparkling mountain of a man whose bulging muscles threaten to burst his buttons. Once his sister Olivier accompanied him on a visit to the Academy, armed with a lethal sword passed down the family line for generations, and terrified the students so much that they momentarily forgot everything they had learnt and huddled speechless against the walls. Self-proclaimed housewife Izumi Curtis is another to have graced the building with her presence. The students have their fingers permanently crossed that Mrs Curtis and Ms Armstrong will never show up together. God help them if they do.
The Academy is a lively place, flourishing with talent. But its founders live in a quiet country town far from the noisy congestion of East City. They are proud of their institution, of course, but Resembool will always be home to them.
The town is well-known now thanks to them, and not just for its quality wool production. The Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother are famous throughout all of Amestris. No one cares that Edward Elric is no longer able to perform the incredible alchemical feats of his teenage years, or that he left the military a long time ago. He is still persistently, fondly addressed by his title.
From time to time, hopeful young alchemists flock to Resembool and try to secure an apprenticeship with one or the other of the brothers. But the Elrics have families now, and most are directed to the Academy with gentle apologies.
Edward and Alphonse stir up great excitement among the students every time they are in East City. No one teaches quite like they do, with so much vigour and passion. The students never cease to be amazed at Edward's attention to detail, at the way he can describe each small step in a transmutation with impeccable accuracy when he hasn't performed one for years and years. A keen, focused light comes into his eyes when he leans down to examine a student's work, and every time a mistake is rectified he beams and thumps them on the back, his face aglow with pride.
Alphonse watches him and smiles. He knows his brother can live without alchemy, that he even thought maybe he was better off without it. But Edward has never stopped loving it, has never stopped loving its beautiful, innate mixture of art and science, and never will. Alphonse knows that watching young alchemists create massive fists out of the ground and turn charcoal into diamonds, and above all seeing them improve, make his brother happier than anything else. Well, almost, but that's beside the point.
It was this joy of imparting everything he knew to the next generation of bright young minds that made Edward want to start a school of alchemy. When he was eighteen and on his way to Creta, he passed through broken, war-torn Pendleton on the western border of Amestris. He met an orphaned girl there, twelve-year-old Isabella Tompkins – burst open the door of an abandoned shed and found her crouching next to an almost completed human transmutation circle. He tackled her to the ground and shouted at her, ripped open his shirt and showed her the mass of scar tissue where his arm had been torn from his body, shouted at her until she stopped struggling hysterically and held her in his arms as she cried and cried and cried. Later when she had fallen asleep from exhaustion he went back to the shed and looked through the stacks of diagrams and calculations she had assembled. They were perfect. Just like his and Alphonse's had been. He made a fire and burned them all.
Isabella was his first pupil. He hadn't been able to save a little girl who had been turned into a chimera, but he saved this girl. She called him 'Master Edward', which probably inflated his ego just a smidge.
He knew then that he had to make the truth about human transmutation known to the world. He had to make it known that alchemy had the potential to be as much of a destructive force as it was a creational one. Atrocities like the Philosopher's Stone and human chimeras were real. The Dwarf in the Flask had allowed no transparency among alchemists, lest they should discover his grand scheme. He had introduced the science into the country without disclosing all of its secrets to the citizens, and gloated as they suffered the consequences.
Edward would not let this go on any longer. He would not let alchemy continue to destroy and maim innocent lives.
Nowadays, Isabella is one of the most prominent and highly valued teachers at the Academy. She is in charge of lecturing the students on human transmutation – a grim job, but a necessary one. She understands the repercussions of ignorance, understands how close she was from falling into a raging inferno of fire and brimstone.
Mei Chang, renowned practitioner of Xingese alkahestry, often travels to the Academy with Edward and Alphonse, but they try not to leave Edward's wife alone in Resembool too frequently, with all the children. Winry is overloaded with customers these days, demanding greater lightness, greater durability, greater everything. But no task is ever too much for her to handle.
The Academy students whoop and clap when Mei demonstrates long-distance transmutation, and always have to be warned afterwards about the high possibility of beheading your fellow classmates if you attempt to throw kunai knives in a crowded room.
Amestrian alchemists are still finding it tricky to integrate certain aspects of alkahestry into their own practice, but they will not stop trying. They will not stop learning, and using their newfound wisdom to begin, slowly, to mend the fractures between their country and the neighbouring nations.
The sturdy Academy building, instead of fading and deteriorating with the passing of time, seems to stand taller and prouder every day. Loud voices, crashes and angry scolding intermingle on a daily basis within its walls, and the same sounds can be heard from the quaint little house miles away, sitting between verdant fields and rolling green hills.
Thanks for reading! :D
-TTC