Before October

Hello again everyone, and a huge thank you for reading!

Ok. Here we go, going down the current to the place called "plot development". While Roy does some problem solving, Riza is- Oh wait, spoilers. I can't give them away here. XD

Thank you Ace724 for your beta work - as fabulous as ever! ;)

With that, hope you enjoy reading :)

Chapter 10: Flowing Down Life's Strong Current

Roy was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer size of the buildings looming above him. He momentarily felt like he was a child again, helpless while wrapped up in his innocence. This feeling was not dissimilar to waking up abruptly from a really deep dream, except that this time, the dream is memory.

"Look at how it gleams in the light! See look at this!" Maes was already badgering another military cadet with his new watch, but it snapped Roy out of his trance. He reached out for the man literally prancing around on the train platform and dragged him to his side, as if he was a dog on the lead. Being in the military, then that was what their superior officers could do for them from now on. Absolute obedience.

Staring around at the cadets, there were already distinct groups forming; the outspoken and confident individuals intent on making their acquaintance with everyone in the higher ranks; the intellects huddled in their private corner discussing political matters that they thought nobody else was able to, and then there were the rag-tags. He was in the latter with Maes the man who loved his family and watches apparently.

"Recruits – come this way!" The voice belonged to a low ranking soldier as she led the recruits away from the train platform. As Roy looked behind him, the train was already rolling away in a cloud of smoke. Riza may be seeing the same train in several hours return to East City. It was getting late; he hoped that she had made it home safely.

What was he thinking? Between the two of them, Riza was the mature and responsible one; she had far more reason to worry to about him than the other way around. She knew how to respond to her Father's sharp tongue, and she knew how to please the equine menace that resided in their back garden. Life would carry on, and Roy had to turn away from the train leaving and head towards his future.

Swallowing away his trepidation, he buried the fear and doubt wallowing around inside of his mind – he knew this was the right thing for him to do.

"Poor fools, they have no idea what they're in for," Maes muttered in a low tone by his side. Roy was genuinely perplexed, and his thoughts of home were replaced with this dilemma that his companion had arisen. They were at the back of the group by a great enough distance not to be eavesdropped on but they were beginning to lag enough for it to be noticed by the others. And if their little incident on the train hadn't failed at attracting attention, their elusiveness could. The most dangerous part of being in the military was being noticed…and becoming a target of people who could hold a grudge against him. People who held grudges were always seeking their revenge – these were the military members that Roy didn't want to get on the bad side of. Not while he was still an apprentice alchemist.

But being an alchemist meant that he was already painting a target circle on his back. State Alchemists were known for their power and influence. They were promoted to the rank of Major. Just like that.

He realized that Maes was waiting for a reply, but as Roy tried to think about what had happened so far, logic seemed to have left his mind for a holiday. "What is happening then?"

"The question is, alchemist, where are we going?" Maes mentioned and he pointed to the path ahead that Roy had been oblivious too, following those people in front of him like sheep following a shepherd. They weren't going through the main entrance to the military academy, which he had entered the academy through when he had come here when he was younger. This time however, and the recruits were entering through a back entrance.

"We were welcomed by a sergeant, not a high-ranking officer like Nassor. It's as if they are not willing to welcome us until we actually do something first," Maes began.

"Filling in a form doesn't seem to be a legitimate way of being recruited into the military automatically. You're right; we haven't had to undergo any form of tests for admittance. They haven't been mentioned," Roy's eyes narrowed as he pondered along the trail in his thoughts. "Oh God…now?"

Maes nodded in confirmation,

"You really are not the fool you look to be," Roy said amused.

"Who would think me a fool? I'm just a humble man seeking employment to support my future wife!" Maes chided lightly.

"You're not engaged…" Roy started before Maes was throwing his arms in the air in adamant protest.

"Don't try to crush my dreams!" Maes grumbled and complained like a child who was not given a sweet by their parents, all traces of his former cool, decisive mind-set having vanished into thin air.

"This is ridiculous," Roy drawled irritated as he took Maes by one of his outstretched arms to keep them moving forward. Maes felt like deadweight, "come on, and let's try to catch up with the rest of the crowd."

Maes mumbled something that Roy discerned as being in agreement with him. He fastened his pace to a quick walk and scratched his empty mind for the scant information he had picked up on the military as a boy. They were going to be tested on their physical abilities, being strength, agility and dexterity as well as their aptitude and decision-making skills. Roy felt like he was playing a complicating role playing board game. Ironic, considering how to some people, including some of those here, all that the military was to them was a game, a jump through the career ladder.

For Roy…he was going to take this earnestly. He actually wanted to make a difference. And deep down, even if it was only for his family, Maes wanted to make a difference too. That quiet determination was what united them without the need for words.

They were on a path now, following the river's current, and they just had to make the best of what they were given, and then give that little bit extra. That would make the difference from making changes to this country and forming democracy or living in this militaristic and society conformed to their ways, unwilling for change. But like a breath of fresh air, that was exactly what Amestris needed to survive. And the chance to make allies.

While war was a great solution when you were on the offensive and victory was guaranteed, Roy knew enough about the structure of the military that if the roles were reversed, and they were on the defensive, Amestris would be doomed. Fighting didn't have to be the only solution, but to the military, it was like the only option they were given.

Roy realized how unfit he was when he was out of breath as they rejoined the rest of the recruit. Maes was too. And with a brief glance at each other, they stepped out of the spring air and into the back entrance of the military campus, their futures, which lingered behind those opened doors.

March 1904 – East City

"Here you are, miss," the shopkeeper smiled as she handed the printed photographs to Riza. It was in the evening, and after strolling through the marketplace of East City, she had come to one of her favourite shops – the stationary and printing shop collected into one. She knew she wasn't talented as a writer, yet she was adequate. Roy would be able to envision a landscape in his mind and craft those into words, like a mathematician devising a formula, but the words remained stuck in her thoughts.

She liked the smell of ink and paper and freshly-printed photographs. They went into her collection in a scrapbook, which was quickly becoming full. The latest editions included the annual family portrait and this year Dapple had made an appearance.

After thanking the shopkeeper politely and handing over some silver coins, Riza held the bag firmly in one hand and pushed her way out of the shop door as a bell gave a faint tingle as she departed. Along with the photographs, she had collected some groceries that would be enough for several days' worth, and the supplies her father had asked her to purchase.

The house was going to become quiet again. It wasn't permanent, Roy believed, but Riza knew that the apprentice alchemist wouldn't be living back at the house for a long period of time. He would spend his days at the academy and then in the barracks of wherever he would be deployed to, or if he had sufficient funds, he would purchase an apartment near the military headquarters that he was stationed at. He wouldn't have to return to their house; he would have a home to call his own.

For Riza, this house was the only place she had known to call "home". The book-filled hallways and creaky stairs and weedy back garden were what made her house home. It was supposed to be about the people that you lived with, but she had also developed a personal attachment to the house. The atmosphere had become warm and welcoming. Thinking of what their neighbors would say about the house was cold and unwelcoming made her chuckle quietly to herself.

It was getting late now and she had to get dinner started, even if she was tempted to buy something hot and fresh from one of the market stalls studded around the side of the streets, side by side with the permanent shops. She could smell sticky honeycomb and cinnamon; her stomach growled and she was sorely tempted to spend the last few coins left in her pocket.

But she shook her head and regained her composure, running her free hand through her hair and started on her trek back home.

Alone with her thoughts, she arrived back home as if no time had passed. The house was quiet and this was one of the first nights since last year that the fire was not on – gradually spring was pushing away winter's icy touch. Times were changing; the ice was melting on the rivers and with the current strong from the thaw, the water was starting to flow again.

The house was swathed in shadow in the stretching twilight, and as she reached the front door, she fumbled in her pockets for the key. When she grasped onto the twig-shaped object and pulled it out of her pocket and slipped it into the lock on the door, it pushed open slowly. A warm smell of the cake she had baked wafted from deep inside the kitchen. She was beginning to improve on her baking – at least everything she baked no longer was burnt to a cinder.

The house was dark. Riza's heart started to instinctively flutter. After dropping her supplies on the table, she peered around to stare down the hallway. Even the lights in the study were not switched on. Which meant…that he was down in the basement.

Riza knew from past experience that Berthold Hawkeye, her father, was close to cracking a mysterious alchemic conundrum. He would bury himself in his study even more than usual, including in the late hours of the night, before emerging into the basement. He was down there for such long periods of time that Riza wondered if he had forgotten what the sun felt like. That feeling seemed to resonate out aloud around the room with its dark walls pressing in around her. The lights were off, and the few candles that were burning were flickering as if with a feverish excitement, as if they knew that her father was at the brink of discovering about a miracle.

Or a sin.

"Father?" Riza's house echoed around the room. She received no answer. She retraced her steps back to the kitchen and turned the lights on dimly along the hallway and in the kitchen, treading silently as she went. Caution was her first thought and she couldn't believe that she was being so subtle when her heart was betraying her, and thumping rapidly in time with her rushing thoughts.

What was he going to do now?

Had Berthold Hawkeye been saving his research until Roy had left? Was this research too secret to share even with his apprentice? Riza swallowed the lump rising in her throat. She didn't dabble into the works of alchemy and now she didn't believe in the supernatural. But she knew about the potential of alchemy and what potency that it could cause.

She wanted to race up to her bedroom, shut the door and sort out her photo collection. She wanted to write in her diary. But a part of her wanted to be part of the world of mystery she had been excluded from. Riza stood at the outside of the kitchen, where the hallway split into two paths. To the right was where the stairs where, and the promise of a blissful, care-free night without the thoughts of alchemic experiments. To the left was the passage to the basement and whatever her father was working on down there.

Taking a deep breath, she chose her path. She turned left.

"Father?" she repeated into empty air again softly. Still she received no reply, and taking a burning candle from its handle, she held it in front of her, and treaded lightly in aid of its ghostly light through the darkness. Night was quickly falling, and the grey sheen of moonlight was shining through the windows. The curtains were closed, but the light illuminated the hallway, elongating shadows as if they were teeth widening out into a menacing smile. Riza could discern spiders scuttling along the cobwebs to retrieve the dead flies they had harvested. The thought made her blood run cold.

And yet she proceeded forward. She was covering barely any distance but suddenly her body felt like lead, heavy and weary. Her legs became noodles, unable to support her suddenly heavy frame. She held her breath and held onto the bookshelf by her side to carry her weight.

Roy would be teasing her if he saw her in this state. Even a Roy procured with her imagination mocking her was too much to bear. She shook her head and crossed the last part of the hallway until she was at the basement door. She could feel the faint rush of air through the cracks, the muttered whispers of someone dabbling into their madness.

Her father wasn't mad. He wasn't. He was a renowned alchemist-

"Who's there?" a voice snapped through the silence, tying a knot to the tension thread building up in her stomach. It was a growl of a question, the spite in its tone as sharp as steel, which faded as quickly as it came.

"Father…it's me," Riza said shakily. She held the knob to the door, but no ounce of her will could twist it.

There was a sudden clatter of equipment and the rustle of movement. She yelped as a force acted on the opposite end of the door, pulling it wide open, and standing before her was her father. Riza knew that he was an insomniac, and buried the hours of his sleepless nights through research, but standing before her now, and he looked properly disheveled. She had only been gone for a day…but his clothes were torn and…singed in some places. The air stank of charcoal and ash. His eyes were lampless souls, his mouth slightly agape with the rattle of air squeezing into and out of his lungs, each breath sounding constricted and painful, as if he had been breathing in something he wasn't supposed to.

Smoke from…Fire.

His voice softened when he saw her, "Oh Riza. I'm glad it's you. You're just who I was looking for."

Berthold Hawkeye was never this sentimental. She glanced up into her eyes, and what she saw confirmed her suspicions. It was also a sight she would never forget.

Her father's eyes were clouded and narrowed like a beady predator, like a hoarder who had spotted their most prized possession, their golden treasure.

"There're many secrets I need to share with you tonight, my daughter," and he took her hand. "Are you ready to step into the inferno?"