We devoted our every waking moment the next few months to practicing alchemy. We studied as the trees lost their leaves and the roofs of the houses in the city became indistinguishable from the snow-covered hillside. We bundled up in every article of clothing and every blanket we could find to transmute in the attic, away from any ears downstairs.
No treasure from the attic's depths could hold my attention any longer. I had cast childish make-believe aside. Our situation was dire, and it would take our combined efforts to best the alchemy of the now two masters in the house.
Many of our efforts were stonewalled, and it was certain we were being surveilled. We surmised it to be the maid Lyra's doing, for she would certainly do all she could to prevent her mistress from discovering us. If our alchemy so much as put a dent in our bedroom wall, it was immediately repaired and reinforced stronger than before.
Other times, it was as if a barrier were erected all around us. We drew our arrays, pressed our fingertips to the circle, and nothing happened.
We faced these challenges not with resignation, but with indignant fire. The more they prevented, the longer we practiced, the more information we drilled into our heads, and the harder we pushed back.
We volleyed back and forth this way until one afternoon when the birds had returned, bringing with them the pastel palette of Spring.
The maid stepped into our room, after having transmuted a hole in the metal wall large enough for her body to squeeze through. She carried no food in her hands, which were clasped together in front of her.
"You boys are playing a dangerous game," she said ominously, though there was a hint of a wicked smirk on her lips.
"What are you talking about?" Ed asked venomously, narrowing his eyes at her.
"You have two choices," she said, glancing to each of us.
"Stop performing alchemy, or stop eating for a week."
"You can't do that!" I shrieked.
She simply flashed a devilish smile. "Have it your way, then." She opened the wall up again and was gone.
Ed pounded his fists against the wall. "You can't do this, you monster!" Angry tears streamed down his red face.
He turned, hands shaking, and let his weight fall against the wall, sliding down to his knees. "Damnit!" he cried, putting his palms to the floor, head hanging down.
I rushed over to him and put a hand on his back. "It'll be okay," I said. She didn't know we had squirreled away some of our food while we were too busy with alchemy to eat it all. However, it certainly wasn't seven day's worth.
Ed sat up and wrapped his arms around me so tightly. His entire body was trembling.
"It'll be okay," I offered again, rubbing his back.
True to her word, food never came the next day, or the day after that. We divided our meager rations, sipping cold soup and nibbling on halves of crackers not to be sated, but just enough to keep ourselves alive. Alchemy or not, she could stand her ground solely to teach us a lesson, so we operated on the assumption that even if we obeyed, we still would be starved.
On the fifth night of all meals being withheld from us, I exited the restroom after having a bath, and saw Ed laying on his bed, facing me. He was awake, but I only knew that because his eyes were open. Those golden pools, usually glinting with such zest, an inimitable fire, had no sparkle. I had never seen him look so weak.
I knew it wasn't entirely from lack of food. My brother was the strongest person I knew. A few days of hunger wouldn't defeat him. No, this was a deeper suffering, a pain in his very soul.
I lay down beside him. He seemed to be looking right through me, focused on something, something happening, some future I couldn't or wouldn't see.
"I swore I'd protect you, Al," he croaked hoarsely. "I'm failing you. I'm sorry." His eyes welled up then.
We were all we had and all we needed. If he didn't have strength, he could take mine. I grabbed his hand and yanked it roughly to my chest, flattening his palm against my fluttering heart.
"You listen to me, Brother! We're going to get out of here! You and me! I'm not giving up and I won't let you give up, either! We'll think of something. So don't you dare lay down! We'll keep fighting together!"
My bold soliloquey seemed to awaken him from his defeated trance. I watched as the few vestiges of hope he had left in him lit up once more. His golden eyes were burning, radiating a flame of strength so bright I didn't dare look away from, for I wanted to absorb it into myself, let it build, let it grow, until we were finally free.
In a flash he was upon me, wrapping his arms around my neck, lips on mine, kissing me so fiercely it made my head spin.
I hadn't realized until now that being forced to grow up, to become men sequestered from the outside world, we had all this time been hurtling toward desire, a need that coursed through our body's circuitry, that animal instinct that bested all logic. And before I could question it, or let shame pull me from him, I found myself reciprocating.
I kissed him clumsily, a bit too rough, and so very desperately. My hands were tightly clutching his shirt. Even though layers of fabric seperated our skin, I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I shifted my body against his. He warmed me like the sun I had been deprived of for two summers.
He parted from me gasping for breath, and pressed his forehead against mine.
"I'm sorry," he panted, grasping for my hand.
"I know this is wrong, but I can't help it. I love you, Al. I'll never love anyone but you. I'm sorry."
He pulled away. The pain in his eyes felt like daggers rending my heart.
Surely he knew how much he meant to me. He had to know that I would not have survived this imprisonment without him. He was my source of strength when all I wanted to do was submit. He was my everything, the only thing that mattered and the only thing worth fighting for. I wanted to be by his side forever, never letting anything tear us apart.
In a world full of arbitrary rules and governed by Fate so cruel, where a mother could be taken prematurely from her children, where a father could forsake his sons, how could love be more wrong than that? I knew what it was like to be loved once. I knew the heartbreak of loss. And I knew my love for Ed transcended our brotherly bond.
So he didn't misconstrue my bewildered silence for rejection, I touched his cheek softly.
"I love you, too," I said with a smile, and knew from this moment on there was no turning back.
He kissed me again, gentle and sweet. We sat up and he pulled me into his arms. I lay my cheek against his loudly drumming heart.
"This is it, Al. We're not just gonna' give up. Forget Father. It's just you and me now."
I hummed in assent, and we headed to the attic for any material we could find to make our escape.