Danny: Hayden, this is very strange.
Me: Strange? Strange how?
Danny: People are starting to think the homunculi are coming back…
Me: But I didn't say that they did! They all died :( (well, besides Pride). The people who took Elysia aren't homunculi…
Danny: Alright, that's enough. Review reply time!
soulevans31: Did it? Yay! I'll be sure to check it out :)
Violetlight: How's Wheels Within Wheels going? Oh, and yes, I loved writing Mustang's reaction to Ed's kid's names. I like writing for Mustang in general actually and have a few fics planned for him in the future XD Thanks for your review!
Harryswoman: THANKYOU! (see, I returned some of your capital letters lol) here's the next chapter for you!
D12T: And here's even more!
DoctorWhotaliaandtheOlympian s: Oh, no. Ed and Al probably won't be running off to fight homunculi at the moment :( that's only because they're not here right now… *wink*
Adjacent to Addiction: Thanks for the longest review of the chapter! And, yes, salmon is wonderful. Hopefully this chapter should give you some answers!
Fezberry: Thanks again ;) you're just as awesome, you know :3
A New Way to Bleed, Chapter 8: The Purple Veil
Time ticked by and all that seemed to surround Elysia was darkness. Her blindfold and gag were both tied tight and she felt them digging hard into her skin, probably red and raw by now. Her hands and feet were both bound together and the pressure of the gun never left her cheek, although at some points it had lessened a bit.
The person who held her at gunpoint was getting just as tired as she was. Maybe that would eventually give her a chance to escape.
She at least knew that she was in some kind of transportation. The ground was constantly moving up and down beneath her and she for a while she could her the noise of the road outside, but then that quickly died down and Elysia guessed the place where she was being taken to wasn't exactly in the middle of Central.
Suddenly the ground seemed to slope and she felt herself lean forward slightly as her ride went further down. The gun against her cheek dug in harder for a second as she jerked and she winced, letting out a small yelp as she felt it cut her skin.
It was another long while before they finally came to a stop, and Elysia wasn't sure whether to be relieved or frightened at that. Her thoughts once again circled back round to what she was actually doing here and why she was being taken. Why wasn't she struggling again? Oh, the gun. She kept forgetting that.
"Stand up." It was the same voice that spoke every time she received an instruction. But she didn't think it came from the gun holder. Whoever was speaking was further away and their voice was monotone, robotic almost. Like they were under some kind of mind control.
She was directed out of whatever she was inside, but from the space around her she knew that it wasn't a car. A cart headed by a horse, or a train maybe - the step down was quite large.
It was dark when she got out, too. She didn't know how she knew, but the way the air seemed to grow colder around her and the feeling of being closed in started to suggest that she could have been inside some kind of tunnel or cave. Her footsteps had a faint echo to them, and so did the voice as it talked.
"Like I said earlier, Father has some questions for you, Elysia Hughes. We are taking you to him. Do not react to whatever happens. You will not be hurt if you do as we say."
A few steps later and things seemed to grow noticeably warmer and Elysia registered the sound of a crackling flame nearby.
As they walked, she felt herself get closer and closer to the heat – so close that she thought she was being taken to wherever she was being taken to to be burnt to death, but someone abruptly yanked her to a stop. The cotton of her blindfold was thinner then she expected, because if she opened her eyes she could make out silhouettes of figures in front of the firelight. But the cloth irritated and burned her eyes, so she quickly shut them again, waiting patiently for the chance to have it taken off.
Remember what they said, she told herself firmly, if you try to escape, they'll hurt you. Just wait until they let you go. They promised they would.
Wait… did they say that?
Someone pushed her downwards, forcing her onto the floor, before she could continue her train of thought.
"Father is sitting before you, Elysia Hughes. Answer him truthfully and honestly and you shall not be punished."
"Yes, Ok," she finally managed to hold the nerve to reply, "but will you let me g-"
"Silence."
The voice was neither loud nor threatening, but for some reason its very sound seemed to make you want to stop talking instantly. It made Elysia vaguely think of the Fuhrer, but it was hard to believe that she was involved in something like this. And besides, it was a man's voice that had spoken. It was coming from directly in front of her, slightly higher up – as if he was sitting on a raised platform.
"My children have brought you here so that I can ask you some questions that are vital for what I need to do. Once I have finished, I will consider releasing you. But if I suspect you have left one detail out, I will see to it that you are never to leave here. Am I understood?"
Elysia let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in relief, "yes sir." At least she had a chance of getting out of this place. She didn't want to know who this 'father' guy was, where she was - she didn't want anything to do with it. Her brain was finally beginning to switch to panic mode know. Get out of here, Elysia, get out, now.
"What is your relation to Selim Bradley?"
Even though she could barely see, her head shot up in surprise.
"S-Selim… Bradley?"
"Yes, Elysia Hughes, Selim Bradley."
"He's… one of my best friends."
There was silence for a long while and all Elysia could hear was the sharp crackling flame behind her and the heat from it on her back. The gun was still painfully jammed into her cheek, the weapon moving up and down slightly as the person who held it there took a deep breath.
"How long have you known him for?"
"A long time…" she trailed off, trying to work it out as best she could, "ever since I was little. I can't remember the first time I met him, we were so young…"
"How old is he? And you?"
If he wants to know about Selim, she thought, why can't he kidnap him and bring him here? Surely he'd get so many more answers.
"I'm eighteen and he's fifteen."
"And his mother?"
"I don't know," she replied truthfully, "but she's… she's quite old, I guess. Old for a mother, I suppose."
"Do you know anything about his personal life?"
"Yeah, naturally, a lot. His hobbies, what food he likes, his favourite places-"
"But do you really know?"
"Excuse me?"
"Do you believe there's more about him that you don't know that you think might be important?"
That smile.
Elysia didn't like this at all. This 'father' was manipulating her thoughts, twisting them, bringing back memories that she didn't want to remember.
Elysia, you need to leave. Now, she repeated to herself in her head, this man isn't… right. This whole place isn't right. The gun on your cheek isn't right. Selim isn't right-
She stopped her train of thought. Of course Selim was right! They were best friends!
But do you really know?
That smile.
"There could be, I'm not sure." She finally spoke out loud.
"Are you interested in finding these things out?"
Elysia, get OUT.
"I… I don't know," she admitted truthfully, "Maybe."
"Look, Selim," his mother spoke for the first time in a while and he looked up from his soup to see her looking at him, "Edward Elric's here – the man who's come to speak to you. He's over there, see?" Mrs Bradley pointed across the room to a table full of mostly men in military uniforms.
He absently followed her finger until his eyes rested on a blonde boy seated there, next to General Mustang. He was staring right back at him, his bright blue eyes curious.
Edward Elric has blue eyes? He thought to himself, puzzled, didn't he used to have gold eyes? Wait, when have I seen him before? Why do I know… his eye colour?
You don't understand Edward Elric at all!
Suddenly, he felt himself smile again.
Why? Why was he smiling?
Why didn't he understand Edward Elric? How was he supposed to? He can't even remember meeting him!
Damn it, I can't transmute!
Or… could he? Did he remember?
His thoughts were cut off when Edward Elric's face switched to a look of concern, and… a trace of fear?
Selim let his face fall to a frown and he registered the Fuhrer and his mother standing up beside him, obviously intending to go over there and speak to Edward Elric. He got up out of his chair too, leaving his soup again. Elysia was… where?
His head hurt.
He felt his mother take his hand and guide him over to the table. He kept his eyes focused on the blue-but-supposed-to-be-gold-eyed-Edward-Elric constantly and soon he was standing right in front of him, his height meaning that he didn't have to look down much at the sitting boy.
His blonde hair was tied back into a familiar ponytail.
Familiar?
"Um… hi," Edward Elric said carefully, staring up at Selim, "my name's Maes. Maes Elric."
"Maes… Elric?" Selim's reply was a little slow.
"And you're Selim Bradley, right?"
Am I Selim Bradley? Is that my name?
"Y…yes. I'm Selim Bradley…" he drifted off afterwards, his mind creating pictures that were too hazy to see.
Snap out of it.
He blinked a few times, suddenly realising that he himself had thought of that.
And that was exactly what he did.
He hastily cleared his throat and held out his hand to Maes, a large but polite grin appearing on his face. "Yes, sorry," he said, "I'm Selim Bradley. Nice to meet you."
The blonde raised an eyebrow inquisitively before accepting the handshake. "Same, I guess," he replied.
Selim hadn't noticed it before, but now, to him, Maes seemed a little distracted.
"Selim Bradley," a voice said nearby, and he turned to see another blonde, this time older, talking to him. He stepped forward slightly and introduced himself. "I'm Edward Elric. Do you remember me?"
"N…no," he tried to recall the face, like he was sure he was able to do earlier, but his mind came up a blank. "Sorry, I don't. I think I was only very young, though, so…"
"That's OK, I didn't expect you to," he gestured to Maes, "I see you've already met my son, Maes."
"Yeah, I have."
He didn't know why, but Selim didn't like the way Edward was speaking to him. It sounded formal, forced, cautious maybe. As if he really didn't want to, but he knew he had to.
The waiter had now arrived at the table with food, cutting through the awkward silence that had seemed to have formed around himself and the older Elric. The blonde smiled woodenly, taking his seat again. "I'll see you tomorrow morning at Fuhrer Olivier's mansion, Selim."
The boy nodded back, mimicking the grin as he took his mother's hand and returned to his own meal, although he still didn't feel like eating it. He hadn't had much of an appetite for the past few days and it was starting, on top of everything else as well, to bother him.
There were times he knew when he was acting strange, and he could remember them clearly – like when he was speaking with Elysia. It wasn't like he wasn't in control – all of his movements were his own, but he had felt… different. He was sure that there were thoughts, though, that he remembered during those times that he couldn't recall now, and Selim knew that they were important. He could still remember the feel of the memories, the emotion in them. And they felt the same as his nightmares. They had the same shady, cold, dark veil hung over them that made him feel isolated. But no pain. He could never remember any pain, which was the only thing that was different.
He stared down into his soup for the hundredth time, his eyes absentmindedly tracing the lumps of vegetables in his soup as an idea formed into his mind.
When those memories came back, he would write them down, draw the images that came into his mind, put them on paper so he could remember them afterwards. That was perfect!
But, then, how would he know when he had those memories? He hadn't ever noticed before – only ever afterwards when a small feeling of loss washed over him - so how would he recognise them?
Elysia.
He could get Elysia to tell him to write things down. Sure, he'd be really out of it, but she'd managed to hold a conversation with him when he was like that.
Great! He thought, I just need to find her.
But… where was she? He frowned. She wasn't sitting beside him.
"Mum?" he asked, "where's Elysia?"
Maes eyed his father, who was sitting on his bed, his nose in a book. The blonde man had a loose shirt on, again revealing the strange pattern of scars and metal scraps on his shoulder and chest.
Edward has always worn shirts like that, so why hadn't Maes noticed until now?
Well that's obvious, he told himself, you didn't want anything to do with him.
But now, he was so determined to find out what he could, it was hard to take his eyes off him.
"Maes?" suddenly a voice came from behind him, and the boy turned around to see Alphonse standing over him, a concerned look on his face, "are you OK?"
Maes, for the first time, looked at Alphonse carefully, properly. He looked, well… normal. Not like that was a bad thing, of course. But his face – especially his eyes – seemed to hold something else. Like a memory that was a huge burden. Something he was trying to cover up with that polite smile of his.
Alphonse raised an eyebrow, and the boy realised he hadn't answered his question.
"Oh, um… sorry," he cleared his throat, "I'm fine, uncle Alphonse."
The man looked unconvinced.
He sat down beside him on the dorm's sofa. "Look, Maes. I know what you're thinking," Al nodded to Ed, "but Brother really doesn't like to talk about… what happened to him."
"What did happen to him?"
The man took a deep breath and gave a long sigh, brushing the hair out of his eyes.
"I'm sure you've heard of the Eastern Rebellion, right?"
"It's also known as the Ishbalan Rebellion," the boy replied, "they taught us about it at school. But they don't tell us much. I know that a lot of people died and that state alchemists took part. That's it."
"Well, that's the truth," Alphonse said, "the war spread to Resembool and your father lost his leg."
Maes nodded, "yeah, I know that. But what about his a-"
"He never lost his arm properly," his uncle interrupted him, "his shoulder was crushed by a rock and the only way to hold it together while it healed was with a small piece of automail. His skin has grown back over it."
"Really? That's really all that happened?"
Alphonse laughed slightly, "what, you didn't think that he lost an arm then grew it back, did you?"
The boy flushed red slightly out of embarrassment, "of course not! Well… maybe. A little."
The man smiled warmly, all the trace of that 'something else' Maes was worried about gone.
"You know," Alphonse wasn't looking at him now – he was staring into middle distance, "Brother's the only father you're going to get."
"I…I guess."
Suddenly Maes felt like he didn't want to meet his eyes anymore. He stared down at the floor, at his bare feet.
Edward, meanwhile, had been completely oblivious to anything.
That sat there for a while, in a comfortable but slightly awkward silence, until Alphonse yawned.
"It's late," he said, talking to his brother as well as his nephew this time, "we should all be getting to sleep."
"Really didn't want to resort to this," Selim heard himself say,"but you leave us no choice. We're out of time."
His voice was echoed and metallic, like more than one person was speaking at once. His vision was blurred, seemingly coming from all directions. But, yet, he could focus well at the same time. As if he was looking through hundreds of eyes at once instead of just two. His head hurt for a while, but he was slowly starting to adjust.
It scared him.
It really did.
Deep down, the boy knew the faceless man being held down by swords in front of him was all part of this dream world, this place that didn't exist. He just needed to play along with what the dream-world-Selim seemed to be saying and doing.
There was another man there now – no, there was two. One of them was now holding the blades that sliced through the faceless man's hand, the other hung in the air, surrounded by sleek black tendrils that appeared to be coming from…
…him?
The dream-world-Selim didn't care, so he decided not to.
The man holding the blades spoke next, after him, "if you won't open the portal voluntarily, then we'll make you do it by force, Colonel Mustang."
Colonel Mustang? But, that man was a general. Why was he...?
Suddenly, the faceless man wasn't so faceless anymore. His features faded into view, his black eyes, his messy-but-still-neat hair…
He looked so much younger.
Selim should have been concerned, he knew he should have. A thought deep inside him was calling out to him, telling him that this was wrong. But it was like a deep purple veil had been pulled over his eyes. He was the dream-world-Selim, he realised, unfazed.
"I'll never do-" Mustang started, but the man with blades interrupted him.
"What you want is irrelevant," he said, his voice low and emotionless, "Pride has already assimilated an alchemist with the knowledge we need."
Selim knew who he was talking about. He was the one with the alchemist with the knowledge wrapped up in the black things.
Did that make him… Pride?
Pride was a sin.
Was he a sin?
Dream-world-Selim didn't care.
Dream-world-Selim just smiled, overlooking the scene in front of him with a smug look on his face.
The man with the blades continued, "this man holds the formula for human transmutation."
"Wha-" a look of surprise broke through Mustang's pained expression.
"I've got him," Selim spoke up, "stand clear of the circle, Wrath."
He felt the black things shift and slide along the floor as if they were his own arm or leg. He felt them wrap around Mustang's wrists, ankles and neck, holding him down on the stone floor.
The man he now knew as Wrath stepped away, wiping some blood that dripped out of his mouth off of his face with the back of his hand.
Selim looked on with a straight face as the whole room seemed to glow a bright purple. The man he held down continued to struggle, but his body seemed to begin to physically break down, his skin dissolving into the air with his screams.
Other people that he now noticed were looking on, calling out to Mustang as he disappeared without a trace, the light slowly dwindling down until the room was left faintly illuminated from the hole in the ceiling above.
The boy felt his face break into a smile again.
Danny: Phew! That's chapter 8 done!
Me: *wipes sweat off of forehead* it's not like you did anything, Danny. And how did you get out of the thermos, anyway?
Danny: *smiles* I have my ways…
Me: Ugh, honestly *turns to readers* I hope you enjoyed that, guys! Next chapter should be out soon, so review!
Danny: Bye!