Number of words: 8,185

Published date: December 1, 2013

Began chapter: October 21, 2013

Finished chapter: December 1, 2013


Chapter 29: Fire in the Sky

The morning started off hot.

Uncomfortably hot. Not unbearably so, but still not the kind of day one wanted to be outside working under the direct sun for too long. Not unless they wanted to scramble their brains.

Perhaps this was why Ms. Bradley was not out in her garden tending her plants as was her usual habit at that time of day. Instead, she and Gluttony sat at the dining room table with paper and pencils, ready to begin Gluttony's first reading lesson. Gluttony seemed curious and eager, but those were quickly being overcome by nervousness that he would be an inept student, while Ms. Bradley was trying to be optimistic and reassuring.

Sloth remained in the room too, for despite Lust's opinion to the contrary, Lily had invited him to stay if he was interested.

He wasn't, but leaving the room to check on the temperature outside (and perhaps finding it too warm for his liking and so needing to come back in again) seemed like far too much effort when he could just stay put, where he knew he was content.

He was almost annoyed that it was such a hassle to check, but being annoyed wasn't worth the effort either.

Because Sloth liked the sun.

He liked the heat.

He liked the fresh air, and the smells of the plants from the garden, and the birdsong.

He liked looking at the trees and the mountains and the fields in the distance.

He liked looking at the things nearby, the butterfly that landed on a flower a few feet away from him, the pattern on a random pebble near his feet, the ant that crawled over his hand and up his arm, perhaps mistaking him for a boulder.

Ants worked too hard. He was glad he wasn't an ant.

The things of the surface world were things Sloth hadn't had much opportunity to experience and it took no effort to look at them. Of all the Homunculi, he had stood out the most. He had been too big to wander above ground the way the others had and besides that, he had been too busy digging his hole. When he'd finally finished the hole, Father still hadn't let him go to the surface very often – and then only to carry out orders.

Never to simply enjoy the world and its heat, light, colour, smells, and sounds that he'd been deprived of in his tunnel.

Sloth didn't resent this. In his hole, he had not speculated on what he had been missing. He had not thought of disobeying Father and leaving his task unfinished. Emotions like resentment were too much effort. Rebellion was a pain. There had been no reason to dwell on such troublesome things.

Everyone else scurried around him, agitated and frenzied like rapids around a large boulder in the middle of a river. Sloth didn't understand why people liked to live so quickly and loudly. He thought their lives must be exhausting; he couldn't see what all the fuss was about. It was much better to just watch. As hard as they tried, humans couldn't force everything to go their way. Let what would happen, happen. That had been Sloth's philosophy since he'd been given life and the most disappointment he'd experienced was not being able to sleep when he wanted to.

The others thought he was stupid.

That didn't bother Sloth one bit.

He watched and listened and thought about what he saw and heard (when he felt like it) and he was content with that.

He listened as Pride's step-mother gently and patiently explained to Gluttony the basics of reading: that the English language was made up of a small (compared to Xingese) number of symbols, and the symbols represented sounds, and a group of symbols placed together represented words, and reading was about matching the symbols with their sounds to identify the word they represented.

Sloth liked Ms. Bradley. She wasn't loud. She wasn't fast. She liked things to be calm. She was nice to him. Sometimes she asked him to do things, and that was a bother, but she also always said "thank you" afterwards. Sloth wasn't quite sure what "thank you" meant, having never heard it from his siblings before, but it seemed like a good thing, so he thought he liked it.

She also tried to involve him in things like conversation. He could have done without that, but it would have been too much of a bother to make her stop. Easier to let it be.

Sloth watched as Ms. Bradley wrote the symbols for Gluttony. He listened as she went through the sounds with him.

Sloth liked Gluttony too. Gluttony was quiet. He was usually calm. He never insulted Sloth like the others were prone to do; in fact, he didn't talk to Sloth very much at all. Sloth liked that.

Sloth watched as Ms. Bradley showed Gluttony how to hold the pencil and how to make the marks on the paper. She drew a large symbol and then indicated that Gluttony should copy it on his own page.

"This is 'A'," she said.

Gluttony was clumsy, but that was okay, Ms. Bradley said. Everyone gets better with practice.

Sloth briefly wondered why Gluttony needed to learn to write the symbols - he would be reading, not writing – but then decided it wasn't worth trying to figure out.

They continued through 'B', 'C', and 'D'. Sloth could sometimes make out the symbols when a page was held up, but most of the time he couldn't see the letters from where he was sitting. Gluttony occasionally stuck his tongue out in concentration. Sloth noticed the lack of the Ouroboros tattoo on his tongue when he spoke. He had already noticed the lack of the tattoos on Lust, Envy, and Greed. He didn't know why the tattoos were missing – didn't care either – and though he knew that he too had been marked with the symbol of the snake eating its tail, Sloth wasn't inclined to try to catch a glimpse of his shoulder in the mirror to see if his own mark was missing. If he waited, eventually someone would tell him. Probably. And if not, well, it didn't matter.

The phone rang. Ms. Bradley got up to answer it.

"Hello?" she answered from the dining room doorway. "Why, good morning, Mason! How are you? ... Oh, I'm fine... Yes, almost too hot out! I like it when it's warm, but I'm not sure I can handle heat like this! ... Well, yes, I was wondering. It's not like you to call so soon after visiting ... Uh-huh ... Really? It doesn't feel like- Not that I'm doubting you, but the weather doesn't look like... Yes... Oh, thank you, Mason. I really appreciate having someone looking out for us ... No, no, you don't have to do that. I'm sure we'll be fine. There's still some wood left over from last winter if the power goes off and I have plenty of candles ... Yes, I feel a lot better knowing it's not just the two of us up here anymore! ... Alright. Thanks again, Mason. Good-bye."

Sloth listened as Ms. Bradley called up the stairs for Selim – her name for Pride, he had eventually figured out – and Pride came downstairs and Ms. Bradley told him that Mason had called to warn them about a storm that was expected to hit the region late in the evening and through to the next day. She asked him to let the others know and to start handling whatever chores needed to be done. Their eldest brother bobbed his head and ran off to take care of things.

Sloth decided that he didn't want to get asked to do anything to help. The dining room was a busy spot. It would be better if he went somewhere else, where he was less likely to be found and bothered. So he got up and quietly (though far from sneakily) left the dining room and went up to the second floor and his bedroom, where he settled down on his small balcony, which faced the west and would remain in the shade for several more hours.

The view was nice. Forest and mountain stretched off into the distance. The garden was right beneath him. The shade meant it wasn't unbearably hot. It was quiet and peaceful.

Sloth sighed, rested his back and head against the mansion wall, and closed his eyes.

How any of them could not be happy like this, Sloth thought absently, was something he couldn't begin to understand.


Sloth woke up from his nap to the sound of bickering voices under his window.

"... gonna' gripe about it, you don't have to help."

"I'm not griping!"

"Then what do you want to call it?"

"... Shut up."

"Great retort."

Sloth cracked an eye open and looked down, but the edge of the balcony blocked his view so that he couldn't see the speakers, who were walking along the side of the mansion.

"I don't see why we have to do this. Pride bossing us around, as usual. Why can't he do it, if he's so concerned?"

"You serious? You expect a little runt like him to be any help with this? He's probably lighter than some of this stuff."

"Fine, well, where's Lust then? She could be helping."

"Yeah," the voice snorted sarcastically. "Because she's going to do something that she can make some guys do for her instead."

Sloth normally wouldn't have cared enough about the disturbance to move. He didn't need to check who the voices belonged to, for he could tell without looking that it was Greed and Envy, the pair who exhausted him more than any of his other siblings. However, he was surprised (or as close as he could come to being surprised) that the day, rather than getting hotter, had cooled down. Where it had been clear and blue that morning, now Sloth saw the sky full of clouds, many of which were dark and gray. They appeared to be coming from the south, accompanied by a breeze that had not been blowing that morning.

It wasn't exactly disagreeable – in fact, the wind was a pleasant temperature and Sloth remained still for a moment to enjoy the way it tossed his hair around – but he felt some strange apprehension at the same time. The birds had gone silent, and without the sun it wasn't nearly as pretty outside. He thought that he didn't really care for the change and so stood up to go inside, which unfortunately caused just enough noise for the two men below to hear him.

"Oi, Sloth! There you are! Come on down here and help us," Greed called up to him.

"Don't waste your breath," Envy said with a roll of his eyes. "We'll be done before he gets down here."

Sloth didn't answer, not wanting to acknowledge that he had heard the request and not liking to speak when he didn't need to. Glancing down, he now could see that the two were each carrying full armloads of wood, which they were moving from the pile stacked against the north side of the mansion into the house.

Greed shrugged as well as he could with his arms full. "It doesn't hurt to ask," he replied. "You can't win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket. Or steal one."

Envy gave his own small shrug, agreeing with the sentiment but not caring.

"Whatever," he responded. "Let's just get this done before it starts raining. Knowing Pride, no matter how much we bring in, he'll still say it's not good enough. And maybe I'm feeling generous enough to do this – without griping!" He shot an irritated look at Greed, as if daring his older brother to contradict him; Greed arched an eyebrow, but otherwise remained silent. "-to help the old biddy out, but I'm sure as hell not going to traipse around in the rain for her or Pride!"

Following his words, Envy stomped along the side of the house to the kitchen door and struggled to open it with his arms full before hooking his foot around the door handle and inching it open enough to wedge his shoulder in. He couldn't create extra limbs anymore, but at least he hadn't lost any of his flexibility. Greed followed behind, a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth, though whether he was grinning at Envy being "generous" or at the unorthodox door-opening method was unclear.

Sloth didn't care. He stood, pausing on the balcony.

... Why had he gotten up again?

Oh, right: He was going inside.

Inside, but not out of his room, for the evidence suggested he had been right to think that the others would try to get him to help out.

If it was demeaning to call it "hiding", Sloth didn't mind being demeaned. He lay down on his bed, planning to wait until Envy and Greed were done with their chore – to avoid helping, and to avoid their obligatory bickering.

By leaving his bedroom door open, it wouldn't seem like he was hiding, but that wasn't the reason why Sloth didn't close it.

He was just too lazy to bother.


Sloth woke up with a start, which confused him because he had never felt startled before. He didn't know what could have made him feel that way, nor why he had woken up in the first place. His bedroom was dark. No one was in the room besides him, and usually when he woke up someone was involved in the waking. He was a deep sleeper, after all. The only noise was that of heavy rain hammering on the roof, but that didn't seem loud enough to have woken him. The temperature had dropped again and was now bordering on nippy.

Sloth wondered how long he had been asleep. His room was usually brightest in the afternoon and evening, before the sun set, since it was facing the west. The only way for him to check was to look at the clock in the living room or to ask someone, but that sounded like way too much effort.

He was in the midst of yawning and rubbing his eyes when the sky lit up in his window.

Flash.

Sloth paused, wondering if he had seen correctly or if his eyes had been playing a trick on him.

A low rumble grew in the distance, culminating in a horrible, loud crackle.

Boom.

Sloth didn't know what it was, and he didn't like it.

He didn't like it at all.

Looking at him, no one would have guessed that Sloth was unsettled by the lightning, the same as no one would have guessed that he had been... 'distressed' was too strong a word, but at least troubled by his fight at Fort Briggs against Major General Armstrong and her troops.

At first, he had merely been confused. Their gunfire had bounced off his armour-like skin and did no more than tickle him, so he didn't mind that very much. The yelling was annoying, but in a way, it was nice to hear voices, since he usually had no one to talk to or listen to while digging his hole. Even the bazooka that had set him on fire wasn't really enough to disturb him, since the thing hadn't been able to puncture his skin and so had been experienced more as pleasant warmth than anything else.

But the tank fire... That had been troublesome. The bright flash of light as it fired, the loud bang in his ears almost as stunning as the missile itself.

And of course, the pain.

Sloth hadn't felt pain before except from Pride when he'd slacked off too much. He had spent virtually his whole life underground, which not only meant he was extremely stunted when it came to social interaction, but that he'd rarely been in physical danger. His hide was too thick to be hurt by ordinary weapons and on the rare occasion that someone stumbled across the tunnel, Pride had ruthlessly dispatched them, ensuring that Sloth remained undistracted from his work. So he didn't have much experience with pain.

He usually didn't care enough to have an opinion, but he definitely didn't like it.

This was hidden by Sloth's impassive facial expressions, but a stony face did not mean there was nothing going on under the surface. Sloth had ignored the humans as best he could, just as he would have liked them to return the favour, but they did not seem willing to do so. And when he had moved away from them, they hadn't left him alone – no, the humans had pursued him! Though he wasn't capable of putting it into words, Sloth felt that this was inconsiderate and unfair, and he had been vaguely confused not only by the strange place in which he'd found himself, but by the fear and anger on the humans' faces as they'd attacked him.

Now Sloth remembered his experience at Briggs as another flash lit up the sky and the subsequent thunder rolled in the distance, reminding him of the tank fire, and it made him feel the same vague discomfort he had felt back then, though of course his face didn't show it.

He was also reminded of the female general with the harsh voice and quick, tricky attacks. He hadn't been able to kill her as Father had ordered and, not knowing that the lightning was not tank fire, Sloth wondered if the woman had returned to attack him again, as unlikely as that idea would seem to a rational person.

He got up and wandered into the hallway, which was dark (though this didn't bother Sloth, for he had usually worked in the pitch black). He could hear the faint murmur of voices downstairs and, with the unformed thought that he should warn the others of the female general's attack, he headed down to the first floor.

Everyone else had already gathered in the living room and no one did more than glance at Sloth when he entered the room. Perhaps they could not see him, for the only light was from a flashlight that Ms. Bradley was using to search through a side table's drawer and it was hard to make out anything more than their outlines in the darkness. Considering that Sloth's eyes were more accustomed to the pitch black, they probably could see even less than he could.

"Ah, here it is. I knew there were candles in here somewhere," Ms. Bradley declared triumphantly, pulling out a box and bringing it to the table while saying to Greed, "I think the matches are over on the fireplace mantle."

With the flashlight now directed towards the centre of the room, Sloth could see the others' expressions. Lust looked unimpressed, her arms crossed beneath her breasts and her red lips pulled down at the corners. Envy stood to one side, tapping his foot impatiently, and Gluttony sat on one of the couches twiddling his thumbs, eyeing the storm through the large windows uneasily. Pride had a hand clutching Ms. Bradley's pink shawl and he was also looking around the room with wide eyes.

Sloth wondered if Gluttony and Pride were nervous because they understood they were being attacked. He decided that, rather than speak up, he would wait and see if that was what was going on. He didn't want to speak if he didn't need to. He moved nearer the window and watched the flow of water as sheets of rain hit the glass.

Greed brought the matches over to the table and, with a quick flick of his wrist, lit one of the candles. Pride visibly relaxed with the extra light, though he maintained his grip on his mother's shawl.

"Listen to it out there!" Ms. Bradley said over the rain drumming against the windows. "Mason sure was right about it being a storm. I'm not surprised we lost power."

"I knew we weren't in Central anymore," Lust sniffed coolly, "but I didn't realize we've been consigned to the uncivilized boondocks of Amestris."

"It's not that bad," Lily replied in a mildly hurt tone. "I'm sure they'll get it fixed as soon as the storm lets up. There are a couple good alchemists in Dublith, after all." Another flash lit up the sky, as if challenging her words. Pride flinched and clutched her shawl a little tighter. "It's alright, sweetie," the old woman murmured reassuringly. "Greed will start a fire and we can curl up in the light and read together. I can even put on some hot chocolate. How does that sound?"

"… That sounds nice," Pride replied quietly, releasing his hold on Lily's shawl.

Sloth thought it was strange to see Pride acting the way he was, but he didn't feel like trying to figure out the strange behaviour. He was not the only one to notice their eldest brother's conduct: Lust, Envy, and Greed all studied him with varying degrees of bafflement, but Pride, seeming aware of their scrutiny, steadfastly avoided making eye contact with any of them, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

Envy and Greed had done a good job in terms of preparations, for there was a neat stack of firewood against the wall by the fireplace. Greed hunched down in front of it and began trying to start a fire, stuffing the fire pit with logs and old newspapers and then setting the paper alight with the candle. At first it seemed that the fire would start without difficulty, the newspapers flaring up in a quick burst of light and heat, but then, to Greed's annoyance, the fire died without the wood catching. He cursed lightly under his breath and dug around, rearranging the wood and re-stuffing the pile with paper before trying again, only to get a similar result. In the meantime, Ms. Bradley took the flashlight and left to find some candleholders and the kerosene lamp she kept upstairs.

Envy came up behind Greed and watched over his shoulder. "You're doing it wrong," he said. "You're supposed to start with the smaller pieces first. And you can't stuff it so full; the fire can't breathe like that."

"Oh, go away. What do you know about making fires?" Greed countered.

"I've made plenty of fires! You have any idea how cold Ishval gets at night? The hotter the day, the more freezing it was at night. Any soldiers who didn't know how learned awfully quick."

"Then why am I doing this? If you're the expert, by all means, be my guest," Greed said, starting to rise, but Envy took a step back and held up his hands.

"No way. I'm not doing it."

Greed frowned, but crouched back down and began following Envy's advice by pulling out some of the logs.

"This would be a whole lot easier with the Flame Alchemist here," he commented. "How about it, kid? Pick up any of that flame alchemy yet?"

"Greed!" Pride exclaimed in a scandalized tone. "Don't say something like that! Try to be a little more considerate."

"What?" Greed asked innocently. He twisted around to look at Pride only to find that Lust was giving him a flat, dark look and Envy had taken another step away from the fireplace, staring at the flames now with obvious trepidation. What, Greed mouthed at Pride and their little brother shook his head.

"Brigadier General Mustang killed them, remember?" he whispered back, though of course everyone could hear him.

"Oh... Right," Greed said, blanching at his slip, though he did feel somewhat excused since he hadn't even been alive when Lust had died (only learning of it from Gluttony after his creation as the 'Second Greed') and he hadn't known about Envy's death until Selim had told them about it. Truth be told, if he had taken another route to Father's lair, Greed might have been able to save his brother from Mustang's fire, but Greed hadn't even known that Envy was still alive at that point. When they hadn't heard from him after he'd gone after Dr. Marcoh, the rest of the Homunculi had all assumed Envy had been killed somehow.

What would I have done if I had known Envy was still alive? Greed wondered, turning back to the fireplace and his efforts. If I had come across them in the tunnels, which side would I have picked? Or would I have ignored them and kept going? Honestly, he wasn't sure what he would have done, though he wanted to believe that he would have stepped in and stopped Mustang if given the opportunity. Greed had never been the target of the Flame Alchemist's fire – he was pretty sure his Ultimate Shield would have protected him, though he wasn't positive of that – but he had seen the inferno Mustang could unleash in the final attack against their old man and he knew very well that Envy would have had no way to defend himself. Fighting Pride and Father was one thing, but Envy had never actually attacked him – for real, anyway – and Greed didn't want to think he'd be so cold as to just leave him to Mustang's flames. He didn't want to think of himself as cruel and merciless like the other Homunculi.

The occupants in the room shifted slightly as Ms. Bradley returned with the things she had been looking for. Pride quickly returned to his place at her side and Lily handed him the flashlight, which he held up for her as she placed the kerosene lamp on the table and borrowed Greed's candle for a moment to light it. She pulled out a few more candles (six, Sloth noted, so there'd be one for each of them) and lit those in turn, murmuring that, "At least it's already late in the evening, so we won't be needing these for very long."

Lily seemed to be expecting that the others would disperse once they had their own light, but no one made to leave the room. Lust kept her face smooth, but she had no intention of getting anywhere near the candles, so instead she sat on the couch next to Gluttony, which seemed to ease some of his anxiety (caused by the shadows that twitched and flicked about the room just like his brother's shadows). Pride, continuing to seem leery of the pressing darkness, cradled the flashlight and climbed up onto the other couch. Envy also did not wish to handle a live flame and, either thrown off by the reminder of the Flame Alchemist or simply bored of watching Greed's attempts (He finally seemed to be making some progress.), he turned his attention to their eldest brother instead.

"What's the matter, Selim? Not afraid of a little storm, are you?" he asked slyly as he sat down in the chair farthest from the fireplace.

"I'm not scared!" Pride objected indignantly in a shrill voice, shrinking defensively into the cushions. "I just… don't like the dark very much. There's nothing weird about that. Lots of humans don't like the dark."

Envy raised an eyebrow at him. "Huh. Pretty ironic, though, isn't it, considering your shad-"

"Yes, quite ironic, I know," Pride interrupted dryly before Envy could complete the thought. "Hilarious- Ow!" He brought his hand up and rubbed the top of his head, giving Ms. Bradley an injured look. "Mother, what was that for?"

Lily smiled innocently as she came around the table and joined Pride on the couch. Her weapon had been a fair-sized hardcover book, though she of course had done no more than tap him on the head with it.

"Do I need to remind you of what we were talking about the other day, Selim?" she asked gently.

Pride looked startled, then abashed, and then thoughtful, all in quick sequence. He used shifting on the couch as an excuse to delay answering, but the calculation was clear in his eyes as he looked at her and Envy in turn. He bit his lip, then said reluctantly and in a small voice, "… Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. Without light, I was at my weakest; you know that. So I've always disliked the dark. Even though it doesn't matter now, I still don't like it."

Envy looked more surprised by the diffidence than by the explanation itself and he seemed at a loss as to how to respond to a meek Pride, but considering that Ms. Bradley was right there, he couldn't very well pursue the topic, much as he would have liked to delve into the weaknesses that the First Homunculus had hidden from them. So instead, he shrugged, let the topic go, and rearranged himself sideways so that his legs hung over one arm of the chair and his hair fell over the other, a lounge that left him facing away from the others and gazing out the window.

"Now then," Ms. Bradley said, flipping the book open. "Where did we leave off in this…?"

Pride immediately grabbed the blanket folded at the end of the couch and pulled it around himself as he snuggled up into his mother's lap. Clearly reading on the couch was a familiar activity to them both.

"There was one about a snake," he supplied, "and those children who used crumbs to find their way through the forest."

"Hmm… Ah yes, here we are. 'The Fisherman and His Wife.' What do you say? Is everyone comfortable? Sloth, why don't you come over here and sit with us? You won't be able to hear from all the way over there."

Ms. Bradley paused and looked across the room at him expectantly and Sloth mulled over the options. He had long forgotten his concern over the lightning. Ms. Bradley was right that the rain pounding against the windows and the infrequent booms of thunder would make it hard for him to hear her. By now, Greed's fire was going warm and strong and Sloth noticed absently that the air near the windows was chilly. He preferred the heat and light to the cold and dark.

Ugh… But it's such a pain… to have to move, he thought.

It seemed clear, however, that Pride's mother wasn't going to start reading until he joined them.

With a groan, he got up and slowly trudged over, sitting down on the other end of the couch. Greed, too, rose from his place in front of the fireplace and claimed the other empty chair, lounging in it in similar fashion to Envy by stretching out his legs and placing his feet on the table.

Despite the storm that howled outside and their varying interest (or lack thereof), the occupants sat back and listened as Ms. Bradley read over the rain and thunder in a clear and expressive voice.


There was once a fisherman and his wife who lived together in a hovel by the sea-shore, and the fisherman went out every day with his hook and line to catch fish, and he angled and angled.

One day he was sitting with his rod and looking into the clear water and he sat and sat.

Down went the line to the bottom of the water, and when he drew it up he found a great flounder on the hook. And the flounder said to him, "Fisherman, listen to me; let me go. I am not a real fish but an enchanted Prince. What good shall I be to you if you land me? I shall not taste well; so put me back into the water again and let me swim away."

"Well," said the fisherman, "no need of so many words about the matter; as you can speak I had much rather let you swim away."

Then he put him back into the clear water, and the flounder sank to the bottom, leaving a long streak of blood behind him. Then the fisherman got up and went home to his wife in their hovel.

"Well, husband," said the wife, "have you caught nothing today?" "No," said the man, "that is, I did catch a flounder, but as he said he was an enchanted Prince, I let him go again." "Then, did you wish for nothing?" said the wife. "No," said the man. "What should I wish for?"

"Oh dear!" said the wife. "And it is so dreadful to live in this foul-smelling hovel; you might as well have wished for a little cottage. Go again and call him; tell him we want a small cottage, I daresay he will give it to us. Go and be quick."

And when he went back, the sea was green and yellow and not nearly so clear. So he stood and said,

"Oh man, oh man! If man you be,

Or flounder, flounder, in the sea,

Such a tiresome wife I've got,

For she wants what I do not."

Then the flounder came swimming up and said, "Now then, what does she want?"

"Oh," said the man, "you know when I caught you my wife says I ought to have wished for something. She does not want to live any longer in the hovel and would rather have a cottage."

"Go home with you," said the flounder, "she has it already."

So the man went home and found, instead of the hovel, a little cottage, and his wife was sitting on a bench before the door. And she took him by the hand and said to him, "Come in and see if this is not a great improvement."

So they went in and there was a beautiful little bedroom, a kitchen and larder, with all sorts of furniture, and iron and brass ware of the very best. And at the back was a little yard with fowls and ducks, and a little garden full of green vegetables and fruit.

"Look," said the wife, "is this not nice?" "Yes," said the man, "if this can only last we shall be very well content." "We will see about that," said the wife. And after a meal they went to bed.

So all went well for a week or fortnight, until the wife said, "Look here, husband. The cottage is really too confined, and the yard and garden are so small; I think the flounder had better get us a larger house. I should like very much to live in a large stone castle, so go to your fish and he will send us a castle."

"Oh my dear wife," said the man, "the cottage is good enough; what do we want a castle for?"

"We want one," said the wife, "go along with you; the flounder can give us one."

"Now, wife," said the man, "the flounder gave us the cottage; I do not like to go to him again. He may be angry."

"Go along," said the wife, "he might just as well give it to us as not; do as I say!"

The man felt very reluctant and unwilling, and he said to himself, "It is not the right thing to do." Nevertheless, he went.

So when he came to the sea-side, the water was purple and dark blue and gray and thick, and not green and yellow as before. And he stood and said,

"Oh man, oh man! If man you be,

Or flounder, flounder, in the sea,

Such a tiresome wife I've got,

For she wants what I do not."

"Now then, what does she want?" asked the flounder.

"Oh," said the man, half frightened, "she wants to live in a large stone castle."

"Go home with you, she is already standing before the door," said the flounder.

Then the man went home, as he supposed, but when he got there, there stood in the place of the cottage a great castle of stone, and his wife was standing on the steps, about to go in, so she took him by the hand and said, "Let us enter."

With that he went in with her, and in the castle was a great hall with marble pavement, and there were a great many servants who led them through large doors, and the passages were decked with tapestries, and the rooms with golden chairs and tables, and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and all the rooms had carpets. And the tables were covered with eatables and the best wine for anyone who wanted them. And at the back of the house was a great stable-yard for horses and cattle, and carriages of the finest. There was a splendid large garden with the most beautiful flowers and fine fruit trees, and a walled forest full half a mile long, with deer and oxen and sheep and everything that the heart could wish for.

"There!" said the wife, "is this not beautiful?" "Oh yes," said the man, "if it will only last we can live in this fine castle and be very well contented." "We will see about that," said the wife. "In the meanwhile we will sleep upon it." With that, they went to bed.

The next morning the wife was awake first, just at the break of day, and she looked out and saw from her bed the beautiful country all round. The man took no notice of it, so she poked him in the side with her elbow and said, "Husband, get up and just look out of the window. Look, just think if we could be rulers over all this country! Go to your fish and tell him we would like to be royalty."

"Now, wife," said the man, "what should we be royalty for? I don't want to be King." "Well," said the wife, "if you don't want to be King, I will be Queen."

"Now, wife," said the man, "what do you want to be Queen for? I could not ask him for such a thing." "Why not?" said the wife. "You must go directly all the same; I must be Queen."

So the man went, very much put out that his wife should want to be Queen.

"It is not the right thing to do – not at all the right thing," thought the man. He did not at all want to go and yet he went all the same.

And when he came to the sea, the water was quite dark gray, and rushed far inland, and had an ill smell. And he stood and said,

"Oh man, oh man! If man you be,

Or flounder, flounder, in the sea,

Such a tiresome wife I've got,

For she wants what I do not."

"Now then, what does she want?" said the fish. "Oh dear!" said the man, "she wants to be Queen." "Go home with you, she is Queen already," said the fish.

So the man went back and as he came to the palace he saw it was very much larger, and had great towers and splendid gateways; the herald stood before the door, and a number of soldiers with kettle-drums and trumpets.

And when he came inside everything was of marble and gold, and there were many curtains with great golden tassels. Then he went through the doors of the saloon to where the great throne-room was, and there was his wife sitting upon a throne of gold and diamonds, and she had a great golden crown on, and the sceptre in her hand was of pure gold and jewels, and on each side stood six pages in a row, each one a head shorter than the other. So the man went up to her and said, "Well, wife, so now you are Queen!" "Yes," said the wife, "now I am Queen."

So then he stood and looked at her, and when he had gazed at her for some time he said, "Well, wife, this is fine for you to be Queen! Now there is nothing more to wish for." "Oh, husband!" said the wife, seeming quite restless, "I am tired of this already. Go to your fish and tell him that now I am Queen I must be Empress."

"Now wife," said the man, "what do you want to be Empress for?" "Husband," said she, "go and tell the fish I want to be Empress."

"Oh dear!" said the man, "he could not do it. I cannot ask him such a thing. There is but one Emperor at a time; the fish can't possibly make anyone Emperor – indeed he can't."

"Now look here," said the wife, "I am Queen, and you are only my husband, so will you go at once? Go along! For if he was able to make me Queen he is able to make me Empress; and I will and must be Empress, so go along!"

So he was obliged to go and as he went he felt very uncomfortable about it, and he thought to himself, "It is not at all the right thing to do; to want to be Emperor is really going too far; the flounder will soon be beginning to get tired of this."

With that he came to the sea, and the water was quite black and thick and the foam flew and the wind blew, and the man was terrified. But he stood and said,

"Oh man, oh man! If man you be,

Or flounder, flounder, in the sea,

Such a tiresome wife I've got,

For she wants what I do not."

"What is it now?" asked the fish. "Oh dear!" said the man, "my wife wants to be Empress." "Go home with you," said the fish, "she is Empress already."

So the man went home and found the castle adorned with polished marble and alabaster figures and golden gates. The troops were being marshalled before the door and they were blowing trumpets and beating drums and cymbals; and when he entered he saw barons and earls and dukes waiting about like servants; and the doors were of bright gold. And he saw his wife sitting upon a throne made of one entire piece of gold and it was about two miles high; and she had a great golden crown on, which was about three yards high, set with brilliant stones and carbuncles; and in one hand she held the sceptre and in the other the globe; and on both sides of her stood pages in two rows, all arranged according to their size, from the most enormous giant of two miles high to the tiniest dwarf of the size of a little finger; and before her stood earls and dukes in crowds.

So the man went up to her and said, "Well, wife, so now you are Empress." "Yes," said she, "now I am Empress."

Then he went and sat down and had a good look at her, and then he said, "Well now, wife, there is nothing left to be, now you are Empress." And she sat very stiff and straight, and said nothing.

And he said again, "Well wife, I hope you are contented at last with being Empress; you can be nothing more."

"We will see about that," said the wife. With that they both went to bed, but she was far as ever from being contented, and she could not get to sleep for thinking of what she should like to be next.

The husband, however, slept as fast as a top after his busy day; but the wife tossed and turned from side to side the whole night through, thinking all the while what she could be next, but nothing would occur to her; and when she saw the red dawn she slipped off the bed and sat before the window to see the sun rise, and as it came up she said, "Ah, I have it! Cannot I make the sun and moon to rise? Husband!" she cried, and stuck her elbow in his ribs, "wake up and go to your fish and tell him that I want to be God."

The man was so fast asleep that when he started up he fell out of bed. Then he shook himself and opened his eyes and said, "Oh wife, what did you say?"

"Husband," said she, "if I cannot get the power of making the sun and moon rise when I want them, I shall never have another quiet hour. Go to the fish and tell him so."

"Oh wife!" said the man, and fell on his knees to her, "the fish can really not do that for you. I grant you he could make you Empress. Do be contented with that, I beg of you."

And she became wild with impatience and screamed at him, "I can wait no longer; go at once! I want to be God!"

And so off he went as well as he could for fright. And a dreadful storm arose, so that he could hardly keep his feet; and the houses and trees were blown down and the mountains trembled and rocks fell in the sea. The sky was quite black and it thundered and lightninged, and the waves, crowned with foam, ran mountains high. So he cried out, without being able to hear his own words,

"Oh man, oh man! If man you be,

Or flounder, flounder, in the sea,

Such a tiresome wife I've got,

For she wants what I do not."

"What, what now?" asked the flounder.

"Oh dear!" cried the man, "she wants to be God!"

"Go home with you!" said the flounder. "You will find her the way she was – in the old hovel."

And they are sitting there to this very day.


"What do you think?" Ms. Bradley asked at the end of the story.

Her question had been directed at her son, but it was Greed who responded and with a passion that surprised her.

"That was the stupidest story ever!" he exclaimed. "What's the point of that? The wife was totally in the right and yet they make her out to be the bad guy! What kind of moral is it to not want anything? What a load of-"

"The moral is to be satisfied with what you need, not what you want," Pride corrected, but Greed ignored him.

"Being satisfied is like giving up," he said fervently, punctuating his points by jabbing his finger in the air. "Life doesn't get better if you just sit there all nice and content. How's humanity supposed to advance like that, huh? Human lives are so short, it'd be a waste for them to just take what they're given. That story's pretty much saying that you should be happy with nothing, which as far as I'm concerned is disgusting."

"I don't know about that," Lust cut in, "but you're right about the woman seeming like the bad guy when she clearly wasn't. The husband needing to be prodded and ordered. I'm amazed she didn't just go to the flounder herself. If it hadn't been for her, they wouldn't have experienced riches and power in the first place. If he was going to just spend his days fishing, she was right to use the stupid man as much as she could."

"The husband wasn't stupid," Envy opined, "he was just jealous. Look at how reluctant he was once she became Queen. He didn't want to go because she was getting all the power and he was getting nothing. She's lucky he didn't tell the flounder he wished she'd lose everything and he'd get it all. Or that she was dead. That's what I would have wished for in his place, with that annoying woman bossing me around."

"Why would the fish not taste good?" Gluttony asked, completely missing the larger point of the tale.

"The point of the story," Pride said with authority, "is that they shouldn't have trusted the flounder. Clearly the fish was lying about what he was, since he had power that no fish or human has. And if he was able to give them so much, why couldn't he return to his human form, which should have been much easier to do? So the chances are good his 'gifts' were just an illusion. And he granted promises without asking for anything in return. He was already freed from the hook, so he wasn't bargaining for his life. I bet there was something going on under the surface that we don't know about, or he was just playing with them. What did you think, Mother?"

Lily hesitated, then opted for the easy way out.

"I think you all make good points," she said, internally starting to see a bit more of the connection between her new family's names and their meanings.

Sloth was the only one who didn't bother to voice his opinion, but he had one too, and it was that the story confirmed his philosophy in life:

Getting involved in things and caring about things was never a wise idea.


Author's Notes:

Electricity, power lines, and generators: I hesitate over how realistic this is, but there is at least one scene in FMAB where we see power lines: episode 47, where Ed attacks the lines to turn off Kanama's power and remove the light for Pride's shadows to manifest. Kanama is close to Central, which may explain why they have power (which we might not expect in the more rural communities). I imagine that having access to electricity is generally common in Amestris even in towns and villages and it is only the distance from the community that dictates who has power and who must generate their own. After all, Amestris is described as being "technologically advanced" and alchemy would make it much easier to lay underground cables in the cities and to maintain power lines. In a quick scan, I don't see power poles at Ed and Al's home in Resembool – they used kerosene lamps for light – but it seems Winry and Pinako's home has power lines, which makes sense considering their profession. I also recognize that the idea of losing power in a storm might seem odd to some readers, especially those from Europe, who (as far as I understand and correct me if I'm wrong) have a significant percentage of power cables laid underground. In my home province, even the largest city has almost all of its power lines above ground, so power loss in bad weather is uncommon, but not unexpected.

Flashlight: I searched through the series and couldn't find any instance where they used a flashlight. Instead, lanterns and oil lamps are the only things that make an appearance. However, according to Wikipedia, flashlights were invented around 1899, which makes them possible in the FMA world, and six years is plenty of time for them to come into popular use.

Hurricanes: Is the weather here relatively accurate? I tried to look up what the weather is like before a storm, but didn't have much luck and although it is technically hurricane season in my home province, we haven't had any real hurricanes this year. I think storms are usually preceded by warm wind, then darkening skies, and then rain and increasing wind with occasional lightning, but maybe it depends on the area you're in... In any event, hurricanes form over warm water, so I'm assuming most storms in Amestris are generated in the ocean/sea to the south of Aerugo.

The Fisherman and His Wife: This story is taken directly from Grimm's Complete Fairy Tales, published by Barnes & Noble Books, 1993, with only a few minor edits. (I removed the reference to the wife wanting to be Pope, as it didn't seem applicable to the FMA world.) The Grimm brothers lived from the 1780s to 1860s in Germany and collected and published folklore. They are well known for Cinderella, The Frog Prince, Hansel and Gretel, Rapunzel, and Snow White. I knew I wanted to use one of their stories as a reading selection for Ms. Bradley and Selim. (As the 2003 series uses Germany as a parallel world, I felt this added a nice reference to the first anime series.) I had hoped to find a short story about immortality or sin or family, but this was the best I found to work with and the reference of wanting to be God works well here too.

This is a random comment, but I just discovered that the scene where Ed and Al meet Selim and Ms. Bradley for the first time only occurs in Brotherhood. In the manga, they meet the pair in the library and King Bradley never shows up to subtly threaten the boys. The manga version of the event is much weaker. Brotherhood's version at least shows some interaction between the three Bradleys.