June 23rd, 1963
The decision to fortify their current position turned out to have been a wise decision. Nine days after the alchemists' arrival in Tivoli the Amestrians and Drachmans met afresh in combat. A scouting party sent ahead of alchemists Finn and Lordes only verified that Porto was occupied, with maybe twenty percent of its population remaining. Dodging Drachman patrols, they had discovered that a handful of people who resisted had been killed to make the point, and so the rest were complying with the soldiers.
The Amestrian soldiers arrived five days after the Alchemists, the day after Lordes and Finn got back with their report. Immediately people went to work setting trenches outside the city walls and preparing to dig in and fight. The city walls were twice their former height by the time the alchemists were done with them. With so much stone readily available it was easy to get the materials and work quickly. While the point here was to push back the smaller Drachman force pushing south-west and not let them get a foothold. It was clear they were trying to meet up with the trains in the West, and they couldn't let that happen. Still, they needed a base to work from, and this seemed the best location.
Reports also informed them that the Drachmans here also had a contingent of their alchemists; about thirty estimated. That could be a problem. Even with back up, the Amestrians had only fifteen alchemists assigned to the front lines of what had been dubbed the Western Divisions. Reports labeled the other sections of the army as the Eastern and Northern divisions for clarification.
Fifteen alchemists against thirty. It would definitely be a fight to see if quantity beat out quality. If these were anything like the alchemists they had faced in North City, Edward was fairly certain the Amestrians still had the advantage in skill. Though even mediocre alchemists were dangerous in numbers. Ed knew far too well how much damage a large alchemical attack could do even if the alchemist behind it was inexperienced. Actually, then it was even more dangerous. Of course, he could be misreading the DAs entirely. They could be holding back to give the Amestrians a sense of superiority – though they probably already assumed the State Alchemists had that.
When the shooting started, the enemy alchemists were nowhere to be found at first. Ed stood on the walls of the city, watching the soldiers shooting at each other; the Drachmans in the trees, the Amestrians behind barricades and in the quick make-shift trenches. The city walls themselves were just out of range of the Drachman artillery by about a hundred yards. They needed to keep it that way.
"Why aren't we down there in the fray?" Fletcher asked as Ed watched the other alchemist units lined up to counter any Drachman attacks of alchemical nature. They had reports that this branch of the military had them, and Ed wasn't about to take chances.
"Because up to now, we've just been defending and reacting," Ed pointed out. Sniping the occasional DA didn't count. "But we need to figure out more effective ways to counter against them. We're not used to fighting alchemist on alchemist in groups. Not this large. There's still something wrong here. When we were in Drachma four years ago they didn't have a military alchemist of any kind; not one. Not that they showed us anyway. But they couldn't get the government to back anything involving alchemists to save their lives. With this new guy, it's only been what, a year? And suddenly they have three hundred battle trained alchemists?" He shook his head. "Something doesn't add up and I want to observe and find out what." Tough as it was to hold himself out of even one fight when he wasn't injured. "I've told Lyssandra I'll want her observations, and everyone else's, at the end. We need to start thinking smarter."
Fletcher nodded. "I'll keep my eyes out."
"Good," Ed smiled. "That's what I was hoping for. I want experienced opinions and a variety of viewpoints."
They turned back to the fight and Ed focused on the situation in front of him. He had given a couple of the other alchemists' wireless portable radios. It made it much easier to give orders to constantly moving fighters. That made it more useful to get a feel for the situation when the DAs actually made their appearance.
Which they did, with a vengeance! Almost out of nowhere the ground ahead of the Drachman soldiers surged, rippling forward to fling Amestrians off their feet. Or they would have if the Amestrian alchemists hadn't countered faster, meeting them mid-way with a wall of earth that rose straight up and stopped it cold, pushing back.
Watching from outside of the chaos, Ed noticed a pattern surprisingly quickly. Or at least, several things; again, all of the Drachman alchemists seemed to have the same set of skills. Odd, though he supposed not too strange. They could have all been trained in the same tricks to be used together. But the second thing he noticed was that, even in unison the attacks weren't perfect, and there was also a distinct delay compared to how quickly the Amestrian alchemists were able to respond, whether in a unified attack or singly.
Suddenly the radio crackled in his hand. "Fullmetal this is Emerald. We've found their alchemists. There's a knot of them to the East!"
"Take them out!" Ed barked back into the radio. "If you can capture one or two for questioning great! If not, neutralize the threat."
"Yes, Sir."
Fletcher grimaced. "I'm never going to get used to how cavalier everyone seems to be about ordering others to their deaths."
Ed shrugged, but nodded. "Good. You shouldn't. I still don't like it." He hated allowing even one man under or around him to die, but this was a war, and death was inevitable. Sometimes, it was necessary.
To the East, Ed saw a sudden explosion as trees toppled sharply, and he saw a flash of electricity the same time he heard water rushing – undermining the trees apparently as it bubbled up from a fresh mountain spring; Shock and Whitewater at work. The screams at that end could barely be heard, but the concentrated alchemical attacks stopped, and the shooting faltered. Within ten minutes, the Drachmans were falling back slowly into the trees, retreating for now.
When it was done, Ed picked up the radio again. "Alchemists, report."
"Emerald Alchemist unit all accounted for," Lyssandra replied almost immediately.
"Slicer Alchemist unit account for; one dead, one wounded."
"Fullmetal unit under Earth Shaker accounted for," Torv replied, which was a relief.
The final unit report in with one wounded; no casualties. Ed winced at the thought of another alchemist down. He would find out who it was when they were done with this; it was his job to send the reports for this front back to Breda and from there it would go to Rehnquist at Central Headquarters.
"Good, report to base," he added, referring to the mostly empty hotel that still housed the alchemists. "I want your findings on the DAs. Fullmetal out." He turned and headed for the stairs that led them down off the reinforced walls.
"That was effective," Fletcher commented as they walked back to the inn. "Did you notice they pulled back almost as soon as they lost the use of the alchemists?"
Ed nodded. "It makes me wonder why; they still have overwhelming fire power. My theory," he continued, "Is that they're still afraid of alchemists. As a culture they've feared our abilities for so long that it's instinctive. As long as they've got the same power on their side, it's cancelled out, but without their own alchemists, they know we could wipe all their soldiers out; just slaughter them all." If we had philosopher's stones to boost alchemical power like in Ishbal anyway.
"But we wouldn't do that, not now I mean," Fletcher pointed out.
Ed smirked, nodding grimly as they went inside. "Yeah, but they don't know that. These men didn't live through Ishbal. Heck, most of them weren't even alive for the border dispute let alone old enough to fight in it. All they know is what they've been told. To them, we're still boogie men."
Fletcher chuckled. "Funny, I don't feel particularly scary, or even that threatening."
"That's because you're not," the Whitewater alchemist grinned as he and Tore jogged up and came through the door. Ed knew the rest would be right behind them.
"I hope you've got something to report other than that your mouth it working," Ed quipped in reply, half-joking. Really he was relieved to see each and every one of the alchemists as they came in and gathered in the inn's dining area. Ed waved for coffee and set everyone down around one of the large tables. Any alchemists there wasn't room for stood around them in a second circle. "All right, tell me we've got something," he said when he finished sharing his own observations about their hesitance without their own alchemists and how quickly they had fallen to pieces, as well as the hesitation and time delay in alchemical attacks.
Tore was grinning when Ed finished. "Actually, we might have an answer. We found these after the Drachmans retreated." He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like several small scraps of paper, perhaps three inches on each side; perfectly square. Some of them were pretty damp. "I tried to dry them out," Tore apologized as he lay them out on the table.
There was a collective gasp as the alchemists looked down at what turned out to be about a half dozen pieces of paper with alchemy circles drawn on them; all the same, and all, rather clearly, in the same hand.
"They're not even drawing their own circles," Lyssandra commented, frowning. "That seems suspicious to me."
So obviously she had caught it too. Ed nodded. "Well if this is their idea of pre-prepared circles, it's pretty pathetic; using something as easily destroyed as sheets of paper. It's telling though, that they're all using the same circle; doing the exact same trick just as we thought. And you didn't find any variance at all?" He looked back at Tore.
The Shock Alchemist shook his head. "No, Fullmetal. They're all the same. When we hit them, a lot of them lost a hold of those things. I'd stake a week's wages they have to have someone else make more. Otherwise they could have still drawn new circles if they'd pulled out chalk or a pen or something."
Ed nodded. "They really are one-trick ponies," he felt a smirk forming on his lips. "Not only that, they're not that well trained. I mean, they can probably all draw a basic circle; you have to know that much to do alchemy at all. They can't just be regular soldiers with circles. But they're not even remotely the caliber we've got. Not if this is all they can do. They probably wouldn't have the first idea what to do with a transmutation they haven't learned." No wonder Drachma had been able to train up so many alchemists so fast; at least a good number of them – a lot likely – only knew how to do one thing! It was useful information, if also slightly frightening to think of so many half-trained alchemists running around. Eventually, they would get it into their heads to try something else. That could be disastrous… for both sides. "I'll get this information to Breda and Kane in the next report. Now that we know what they can and can't do, we can definitely come up with some more effective strategies to counteract them."
Lyssandra nodded. "We can disrupt them without even killing everyone; all we have to do is take the alchemists out of the picture."
Which was, of course, what Breda really wanted them doing. The alchemists were supposed to be a counter against the other alchemists. They weren't here to slaughter soldiers, they were here to neutralize the bigger threats. Ed nodded. "Everyone start thinking of plans to do just that. Good work everyone. Now, we might just get them on the run." Or at least, that was what he hoped! Ed wasn't willing to bet that the Drachmans didn't have more surprises up their sleeve. Not with Tamirov helping run the show. Still, it was a victory, and he would take any of those he could get.
June 30th, 1963
"So what's that?" Winry asked curiously when she found her son reading something on break in the field hospital. The paper looked new, yet like it had been folded and unfolded a few times. "A letter?" she guessed.
Ethan looked up, smiling when he saw her. "Yeah, from Lia."
"No surprise there," Winry smiled. Her son's face should have been a dead giveaway. He looked more relaxed than he ever did on duty, no matter how calm he seemed and how personable with his patients. "How's she doing?"
"All right," Ethan replied. "A little restless with school out. It's been so long since we've spent time apart. She's keeping busy though, taking care of Trisha and James a lot and doing some tutoring."
Winry felt a twinge of sympathy. She knew far too well how much that kind of separation hurt. "Are you holding up all right?"
"What? Oh yeah," Ethan replied with a half-hearted shrug. "I miss her like crazy, but better she stay in Central than try and come up here, and I don't get any leave long enough to go home." He fidgeted. "She asked if I did. It was tough to tell her no."
"We need doctors more than almost anyone else," Winry nodded in understanding. "At least we're safer than most." Inside the city they weren't getting shot at on a day to day basis. There was the occasional shell that made it over the walls, but they were far enough back that once the wounded were brought in, there was little risk of getting blown up. "It's hard to be apart."
Ethan turned away from the paper with a sheepish smile. "Yeah. You'd know, wouldn't you, Mom? It's just… we haven't even been married a year and I've been gone four months, and who knows how much more. So much of our lives are on hold, waiting to see how things turn out; waiting for however long it may take us to kick out the Drachmans. It's not fair, but we don't want our kids growing up in an occupied country; in a war zone; because Amestris will always be a war zone if Drachma tries to take over."
Winry couldn't help giving him a funny look. "Your kids?" She was sure if Lia was pregnant she'd have heard something, especially after this long.
Ethan's face actually flushed slightly. "Well, the ones we'll have some day. We'd actually started trying, just before all this went down. Now, who knows how long it'll be."
Winry smiled and hugged her son with one arm around his shoulders in a brief squeeze. "There's time, and you're right about one thing," she added, hoping it was reassuring, "There's no way Amestris will roll over and play dead. Not with what we have to lose."
"But what if the war lasts years?" Ethan asked. "The Ishbal Massacre, the whole rebellion, lasted for eight and that was inside our own borders."
"Then you two can make that decision when it comes to it." Winry felt an emotional pang. "I don't know what Ed and I would have done if we had known the border dispute was coming, or the Xing War, or any of it. I was already pregnant with Sara when the first altercation happened. We had all three of you before Xing and Aerugo. There's no way to know what will happen next, and the best decision you can make is to live, and decide when something isn't worth waiting on anymore."
"Thanks, Mom." Ethan turned then and gave her a tight hug. Winry shifted, hugging him back. "I needed that."
"I thought you might," she chuckled softly. "You worry as much as your father does. Now, let's get back to work."
"Right." Ethan backed up, tucked the letter neatly in his pocket, and headed back towards his usual corner of the make-shift hospital.
Winry followed, glad at least to know that children was something her son honestly wanted and worried about. Given his reticence to step into a serious relationship after their family troubles when he was a teenager, Winry had worried that his fears might continue into him being afraid to venture fatherhood for himself. That, it appeared, was not the case; and for that she was grateful. Now if they could just end this war so life could return to some semblance of peace and normalcy… for Amestris at least.
July 20th, 1963
It took nearly a month, but in that month a lot of things began to chance on the Western Front. Using new strategies and pushing hard, the soldiers based out of Tivoli pushed the Drachmans back, taking the ground up the road to Porto, where they were able to entrench again. Perhaps it was only a matter of twenty or thirty miles, but it was ground solidly gained! With that second solid post and the land between becoming populated with more soldiers, it was time for the State Alchemists to get on with their other work.
Leaving two alchemist units behind on the lines to continue their work – disrupting and picking off Drachman Alchemists – Edward and Lyssandra's units took the cover of night to sneak past enemy lines and – keeping to the woods and avoiding the roads, slowly make their way North looking for any more information they could get on the DAs, Drachman troop numbers and movements, and to find out what kind of a hold the Drachmans were really keeping on the occupied towns.
The first little one they came to was more of a township – Dellwood, Cal Fischer informed them – and it was completely deserted. They continued north for another couple of days before they hit a town of any size; Ed would have called it a village. It was smaller than the population of Resembool, though more condensed given the mountains around them. It was about a day west of the primary road that ran through the area, and Ed would have missed it completely if Cal had not suggested they head in that direction to see how wide a path the Drachmans were cutting.
They arrived near dusk, spreading out along the edge of town to keep a lookout for Drachman scouts. It didn't take long though to realize the truth of the matter; there were none. "I'm not sure I trust this," Ed commented quietly to Fletcher as they crept closer. He wasn't worried about them being able to take on any Drachman soldiers; one man with a gun meant very little to him by now. He was worried about finding Drachmans garrisoned in some of these small towns. He fingered the switch on the hand radio. "Fullmetal here. Report."
"Nothing, Sir," Lyssandra replied after a moment. "Other than lights on in the buildings, there's no one about at all. Definitely no patrols."
"Even at dinner time." Edward shook his head. "Either there's no one here, or they're idiots."
"I can work with both options," Lyssandra chuckled. "What do you want to do?"
Ed thought for a moment, then replied, "I guess let's go on into town and hope for a friendly reception." They ought to get that from the Amestrians, as long as this garbage the Drachmans were spouting about alchemists wasn't being believed this far out; if they'd even heard the rhetoric.
"See you in town. Emerald out."
"All right," Ed turned to Fletcher. "Let's go." He stood and headed through the brush under the trees towards the clearing that marked the beginning of town. He heard others behind him then; no reason to be silent when they weren't trying to hide.
The ten alchemists found themselves the object of curious eyes within a couple of minutes.
"Where should we start?" Tore asked when they all met up.
"The local inn, or bar, whatever they have that's a public accommodation," Ed suggested. It was the most neutral and non-threatening point he could think of. "Though I suspect if we stand here another few minutes we'd probably draw someone out to ask who the hell we are and what we're doing here." They had no guns or uniforms on. That enough should distinguish them from the Drachmans.
"Not sure how I feel about that," Cal Fischer commented with a smirk. "They could just shoot us."
"You don't put much faith by people do you?" Finn commented with a snicker.
"Not up here I don't," Fischer shrugged. "Come on. The inn is this way." He turned and pointed up the street.
It was telling that not a single person stepped out of their homes as the alchemists moved up the street to the well-lit building near the end of it. It wasn't a large place; little more than a bar and perhaps restaurant with a couple of spare rooms if Ed had to guess. There wasn't much travel up this way.
As they stepped into the lights of the porch, the door opened and a large solid woman with iron-gray hair pulled back in a bun looked down at them. "Who are you?" Her tone was suspicious. "Are you Drachman?" She didn't sound like she necessarily expected them to understand. Probably most Drachman soldiers didn't even speak Amestrian.
Ed moved to the front of the group. He could see men behind her, at least two, probably armed. He shook his head, held out his hands, and bowed his head. "No, ma'am," he replied politely enough Winry would have teased him about it. "We're Amestrians on an information gathering mission. I'm Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist, at your service." He pulled his watch out as proof. It was the only evidence of his status he had, though his auto-mail might prove him well enough. "Those with me are also State Alchemists. We're here to help drive the Drachmans out."
The woman frowned only a moment. Then her expression brightened as she looked at the watch, the auto-mail hand that held it, and his hair. She looked at the others. Behind him, Ed heard a few other hands pulling out their pocket watches. "Well, praise the heavens," she exclaimed. "Edward Elric himself on my steps. I recognize you, Fullmetal. There's been enough pictures of you in the papers. We get them even out here," she winked. "Come in!" She turned around. "It's all right boys. They're ours!"
"So much for not trusting them," Tore snickered behind Ed's back.
"Hey, I can be wrong…occasionally," Cal retorted.
Ed stood and went up the stairs, the others following. The inside of the place was as small as he expected, but it would hold them. Apparently, it also held town meetings. There were currently ten men inside, most at least thirty years or older; with a couple of gray-haired gaffers Ed thought were still old enough to be his father!
"Good evening, gentlemen, ladies," he said immediately when he spotted two other women in the room as well. "I hope we're not interrupting anything."
"Nothing unusual these last weeks," one of the men replied. He had been one of the ones hulking behind the stocky innkeeper. "Mrs. Munk allows most all of us here her hospitality." "It's the biggest meeting spot in town," another man snorted, scowling. "What are State Alchemists doing here anyway? I thought we were surrounded by Drachmans; asides, there's no Drachmans come in here more than once a week so far since that first day. How do we know this won't invite trouble?"
"Shut your mouth," Mrs. Munk – apparently – shook her head, bun bobbing. "They're guests Parkins. You treat them nice." She smiled winningly back at Ed who realized – with a bit of a shock – that she probably wasn't more than a handful of years older than him, if that, though she looked a good bit older in comparison to Winry; and distinctly plump in the same comparison. "You'll be wanting a bite of dinner I'm certain. Well there's a bit more stew on the fire and I've got a roast in. You all make yourselves comfortable while I get some more coffee on as well." Then she vanished into the kitchen.
"Thank you." Ed turned his attention to the rest of the gathering as the alchemists found spots at the small bar – it only had four stools – or hung out along the walls. "You mentioned the Drachmans don't show up more than once a week," he looked at the man who didn't look like he wanted them here. "Any word on how tightly they've occupied the other towns up here. That's just the sort of information we're looking for."
Still scowling, the man nodded shortly. "If it's not on the main road, they haven't bothered much best we can figure. First time, they came through, took whatever supplies they wanted, made some speech about how we were now Drachman citizens and not to make trouble and if we didn't we'd be fine. Then they come through for more and to check up, but it's never many of them; just enough to be too much trouble to fight back."
"So they've been doing the same elsewhere?" Ed needed clarification. "Have you heard from any of the other towns?"
"We have," the hulking man replied. "In fact, we've got a small group of them stuck here now; all women. Not sure how they got out. They said a bunch of their folk tried to fight and the Drachmans didn't take kindly to it."
"I'd imagine they wouldn't," Ed nodded, grimacing inwardly. He knew exactly what the Drachmans would do to people who tried to fight back. "Did they lose many?"
"Almost a quarter of the men left in town," a younger female voice came from the doorway to the kitchen. Ed turned, and paused a moment. He knew the woman standing in the doorway with a tray of coffee cups from somewhere.
"Lilah!" It was Tore's surprised exclamation that reminded him who the pretty blond was. In jeans and a flannel shirt with her hair pulled back, she looked like any other woman in her – Ed guessed early thirties though she didn't really look it.
Eyes widened a moment, then she smiled. "Hello, Terrence. Long time no see." Then the smile faded a little as she turned back to Ed. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure, but, I wish it were different circumstances. The Drachmans marched in, did just what Parkins here said, and the next thing we knew there was a fight in the street. I wasn't about to stick around. I took my sister and a couple of others and we fled into the woods. It took us nearly a week to make it this far on foot."
"Why so long?" It was Cal Fischer who asked the question. "It's not even three usually, only two by car."
There were several startled looks and appraising glances from the men; wondering who the Whitewater Alchemist was probably. Lilah stared at him hardest though, and Ed was surprised when recognition crossed her face again. "Calvin? Is that you?"
Fischer smirked. "Yeah. I know. It's been a while."
"That's an understatement," she replied with a small frown. "Well then I should tell you, your mother is here." As she spoke, she approached the alchemists with the coffee mugs. Ed took one willingly.
Fischer's face went briefly blank, though his immediate relief was plain. "Is she all right? I tried calling but I couldn't get through."
"She's here isn't she?" Lilah replied vaguely. "We're staying just down the street. I'll take you there when you're finished." Then she turned and kept handing out coffee. "Anyway," she returned to her narrative. "We arrived here after a week, with a few others not far behind us who told us what happened after that. Thought most of them have kept going."
"Why haven't you?" Tore asked, but Lilah ignored the question.
She continued with the summary of what little else she knew, which in truth wasn't much. "I wish I knew more," she replied, expression grim. "It's hard to get information out of people when you don't speak their language."
Her question made Ed wonder just how she had tried, but he knew better than to voice that question out loud. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer. "Well it's more than we've had yet, so thank you," he replied instead.
"You're welcome," she replied. "I should leave you all to the rest of your work," she headed for the kitchen then, pausing by Ed for just a moment. "Look out for old widow Munk," she whispered as she passed. "Her husband's been gone ten years and she thinks you're absolutely dashing."
Ed blinked then chuckled. "Thanks for the warning."
Cal was nervous as he followed Lilah down the street after dinner. Her lack of willingness to talk about his mother in front of the others concerned him. Was she ill again? Her health had never been good. That was why he insisted on sending her part of his salary every month. He could pay her enough to live on, plus doctors' visits – though those occasionally got pricey – and still have enough left over to live just fine. The NCO quarters cost him nothing after all, and his only major costs were food and the occasional auto-mail repair for his leg. But now… he was going to have to find his mother somewhere else to live. He would try and convince her – once more – to move to Central. Surely she'd agree this time right?
Cal glanced at Tore, who was striding along easily beside him. "Why are you tagging along, again?"
Tore smirked impishly. "Because Lilah's a friend of mine too."
While he said nothing else, Cal knew it was also because Tore was getting too good at reading him, and knew Cal was worried. "Looking to get lucky?" Cal teased. It was the easiest way to avoid having to give a real answer.
Tore didn't blush. He's grown up fast the last few months, not that he had been as much of a kid as Cal razzed him about. "Nah. There's plenty of girls elsewhere for that. Besides," he looked up at Lilah's back, several feet in front of them. "She's been through enough lately."
Cal knew that Tore meant. He didn't know how many others in the room had caught the real meaning behind what Lilah had said. She's tried to get information out of the Drachmans; almost certainly in bed. Given her profession, it was logical, even if that still could not have been pleasant.
"Here we are," Lilah opened the door to one of the buildings that had lights on, but when they went inside there was no one to meet them. "The occupants fled," she explained as she headed for the living room. "Cassidy, I'm back. We have guests."
Cassidy was Lilah's little sister. Though Cal figured she couldn't be that little anymore. She'd only been a couple of years younger than Lilah after all. He followed her back, wondering at the lack of answer.
He understood the moment they entered the house's small sitting room. Cassidy was there, but one look at her face told him something was wrong. Her expression wasn't vacant, not entirely, but there was something off about her expression. A smile that never touched her eyes. "Hey, Cas," he smiled weakly. "Remember me?"
There was an awkward moment as she looked at him, blinked a couple of times, and shrugged. "Not particularly," she replied with a kind smile. "But that's all right. You seem nice."
At least she was capable of speaking. "What happened?"
It was Lilah who answered, her expression growing quietly furious. "Andy Keller happened."
Wait what? "Andy…. Didn't he marry Valeria?"
Perhaps that hadn't been the right thing to say. Lilah snorted. "Sure did. But that didn't keep him from wanting a little something extra on the side. I told him no. One night he showed up at our place, drunk off his ass, and tried to force me. When I fought him off, he got angry and threw a chair. Cassidy came in to see what was going
on… and it hit her in the head." Her voice waivered. "She's not been quite right since. When she got over the injury, she only remembered about half of the things she used to know, and she can't focus on anything for long."
"This is the debt you were trying to pay off," Tore gasped softly.
Debt? Cal didn't know what he was talking about, but Lilah just nodded. "We had to travel out of town to get a doctor who could treat her. Then I couldn't leave her alone by day, so I had to hire someone to help while I worked. Eventually, I moved to Larendon to find work that paid better."
And she'd become a prostitute. Classy, but selling herself none the less. Did no one in his generation turn out all right from Koldspur? He was beginning to doubt it. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Lilah smiled softly. "I'm glad you got out of town. You seem to be much better off than you were back there."
Cal shrugged. "I am."
Tore looked stricken as he looked at the beautiful woman with a child's expression sitting by the window, a book in her lap. Cassidy should have been having romances by now; possibly married. Not like this.
"You'll want to see your mother." Lilah turned then and gestured to a door on the wall to the left. "She's in there. Come on."
Cal followed quietly. The room had a single lamp lit by the bedside. He felt his chest constrict as he saw the woman lying in the bed. "M…mom." He stumbled forward, dropping to his knees as he hit the bedside, taking his mother's frail hand in his. "Mom… it's me."
She looked so frail, even more than he remembered. She was no older than Fullmetal or his wife, but she looked so much older. Her hair had gone gray several years back, and her face held years of care. Her eyes opened slowly and took a moment to focus. "Calvin? Oh my boy… what are you… doing here now?"
His heart was going to break. So raspy and weak a voice. "I'm here to get you out," he replied softly. "A bunch of us are here to stop the Drachmans."
His mother smiled weakly. "Of course you are. My son… my heroic boy. If only your father could see you now."
He'd still call me a failure. Not that Cal said his thoughts aloud. Instead he smiled. "It'll be all right, Mom. I'll take care of everything." If she heard him he wasn't sure. Her eyes drooped closed again. Cal looked up at Lilah's sympathetic expression. "How long has she been this ill?" He didn't mean to sound accusing, but why hadn't anyone told him?
"A couple of months," Lilah admitted. "That's why it took so long to get here. There are a couple of the other women from town with us, staying in other houses. We made a litter and carried her this far, but she's been getting worse, and the only doctor here says he can't do anything for her condition. I'm sorry, Calvin. She's dying."
"No." The voice coming from his throat wasn't his. He hadn't broken like that since he was thirteen. "No! I'm not going to let her die. Not now."
"There's nothing to be done for her," Lilah sighed. "Not unless you've got an Alchemist with you who's an experienced doctor. The doctor who came through here a few days ago said that even in the big cities they might not be able to treat her."
"Oh god…" His hands were trembling. Cal brought them to his face, his mother's frail hand still clasped in them both. "Mom… I'm sorry." He had made so few visits out of dislike for his home town; the memories he tried to keep buried and forget. He should have tried harder to get her to move. He should have done so many things. "I'm so sorry."
Tore felt supremely awkward as he watched Cal fall into silence, clutching his mother's hands. At a glance from Lilah he backed out of the room. She followed a moment later, closing the door behind her.
"We should let them be," she commented quietly, resignation on her face. "He's lucky he came now. I really don't think she'll last another couple of days. She's just too weak." She shook her head, then turned to Tore more directly, with a small smile. "It's good to see you again. So, you're a State Alchemist now too."
"Yeah," Tore smiled, feeling like bragging or even grinning about it would be inappropriate at a time like this. "I've been the Shock Alchemist since February, though I think the bigger shock was having the invasion a month later."
"Lousy timing," Lilah agreed, though she chuckled. "Still, congratulations. You always struck me as the type to get what he wanted. Any girlfriends?"
Leave it to her to ask without shame. Tore shrugged. "Nothing serious," he replied. "It took a lot of studying to pass the exam and with the war… well it's probably a good thing no one's waiting to find out if I come home alive or not."
"You'll make it," Lilah replied with surviving conviction. "I just have a good sense for this kind of thing; for people. You're like the Fullmetal Alchemist back there, or Cal; survivors the lot of you. Besides," she winked at him. "You're too good looking to die so young."
It was a playful gesture, meant to lighten the mood. Tore appreciated it. He grinned. "Well, thanks. I'll be sure to tell that to the next Drachman who tries to take a shot at me. Sorry, you can't kill me. I'm too hot."
Lilah chuckled. "You've grown up a lot since I saw you last."
"Yeah, this time I'm an adult," Tore smirked. "Legally."
"I can tell." She stepped closer to him then, running one hand lightly down his cheek as she gazed intensely into his eyes. "You haven't avoided my gaze once since you got here."
"Did I ever?" He couldn't really recall ever doing so in their brief interactions before.
"A bit," Lilah smiled. "You seemed intimidated by what I do when we met; you don't now."
"I'm not," Tore replied honestly. "Everyone does what they have to in order to get by. There's got to be worse things than sex." Robbing people for instance; murder. "It's an honest living."
Lilah shook her head, then leaned in and kissed him, ever so briefly. There was nothing lusty in it, though Tore knew there could be if she'd wanted it to be. It was nothing more than a friendly gesture coming from her; but it was sweet, and he let himself return it. Having not felt a woman's kiss since he left North City, it was nice.
When they parted, he smiled, bemused. "Thanks. What was that for?"
"For turning out so well," Lilah smiled back. "There are too few honest men in this world. I'm glad you turned out to be one of them."
Tore was grateful that he didn't blush in that moment. Instead he smiled. "You're welcome, and thanks. It's nice that someone noticed." He glanced back at the door. Behind it… was that crying? He wasn't sure, but it made him uncomfortable to hear someone's private anguish; especially someone as proud and private as Cal. "Will he be all right here? I don't think he's going to want to leave."
"I'll take care of him," Lilah promised. "We've got a spare couch. When do you have to leave?"
"I'm not sure," Tore admitted. "Knowing Fullmetal, we'll probably take at least a day to rest and see what other information we can gather before moving on. There aren't a lot of good places to sleep out here." He, for one, would be grateful for anything that wasn't the ground! The alchemists were being put up in abandoned houses. "I'll find out."
"Good." Lilah said. "I really don't expect her to linger much longer. It would be nice if they could have some… time."
"Yeah." Tore tried not to get choked up again. It was hard though. He'd never said goodbye to his own mother. "That would be nice."