Summary: Dr. Marcoh fulfills his part of the promise by restoring Havoc's ability to walk and Mustang's sight, but the Truth will not have its ironic punishment subvert quite yet. (Enjoy wearing glasses in public, Roy! If you try to fix your Myopia, I will make it worse.) Unlike in canon, Hohenheim actually explains he is dying and properly gives his final goodbyes to his family in this chapter. Finally, while Edward gets slightly chewed out by his subconcious (courtesy of Truth, again), the Parliament of Amestris meets for first time in Grumman's life.
Notes: We have now reached the point, where the work enters the first period that was mostly skipped over in Episode 64 and Chapter 108. We should get to Ed and Al's return back home in Chapter 4 and then we will start covering the period skipped over by the eyecatch jumping to the roof scene, which will probably be in at least the next work.
A medic had informed Alphonse that some clothes had been provided alongside other medical supplies, so Edward helped him to walk over to receive them. When they left, they found May and Xiao Mei sitting on the side of the road, while looking at the floor with forlorn expressions. "Is something the matter," Al asked, and they looked up at him. It was now clear that May had been crying. "Nothing," she immediately tried to deflect and turned around.
"It's about the stone, isn't it," Ed guessed, and her entire body sagged. "You are giving up too easily. I spent enough time with Ling to know that he is not planning to destroy your family," he added, but she still looked the other way. "Do you think me so vile, Princess Chang," the boy asked, and May immediately jumped up and tried to give him a stern look. "If it looks like you are pouting, it's not exactly intimidating," said her half-brother, who was twice her height.
He knelt to be at her eye level. "I admit you got close, even if you had to get involved with the affairs of another country," he started and both the girl and panda started crying. "But sometimes luck is the important factor. The next Emperor will be from the Yao clan," he continued as he pulled out one of the few remaining bottles with a Philosopher's Stone. After a brief look at the stone, both girls started crying harder, and Ling let them get their relief before he added more.
"I hereby offer your clan protection," he said, and the crying turned to a look of confusion. Behind him, Lan Fan failed to hide her smile. "I learned to accept Greed and all his component souls, I think I can learn to do the same thing with the clans of Xing," he added. May stared at him like he had just gone insane. "All of us?! That's so greedy, Ling Yao!" When Edward saw the blank look that put on the Prince's face, he tried and failed to suppress a snicker.
Ling got up and rubbed his back. "I guess he did rub off on me. Well, fair enough," he said with a slight smile. Edward and Alphonse looked at each other and laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I know, it's absolutely hilarious," Ling tried to tell them off, but the fact that some part of Greed remained improved his mood too much to pull that off. "We have to start planning our return home anyway. If we stay, things could go badly," he continued, and May gave him a confused look through still teary eyes.
"Our Father continues to get worse by the day. I heard that he has started to defer more of his duties to the Regency, and YOU know how paranoid that men is," he explained. "I would rather not find out he died, and the succession fell into abeyance. We both know the result of last time that happened." May nodded as someone well aware of Xing's many succession crises. "Besides, I already have plans on getting rid of this stupid system of sibling rivalry, anyway," Ling whispered to her and winked. (The strong clans would absolutely hate that plan, when they eventually found out, but he would not have children fight like he and May did.)
"I want to thank you two," he said in the direction of the brothers as he rose from the ground. "You have been excellent friends and I hope we will soon meet again. But we must not wait too long. I have made promises to Mustang and Armstrong that I intend to fulfil." He stepped forward and shook hands with both of them. "Though, you were a pain in the ass," Edward started. "Hey, you're talking to an Emperor," Ling complained. "I did enjoy it," he concluded with a laugh, and Al smiled. Lan Fan snickered.
"Have a safe journey, Your Imperial Highness," Alphonse said as they shook hands. "Thank you. At least someone knows who one address their betters," Ling said and tried to not burst out laughing at the end. "Even you can't say it with a straight face, huh," Ed quietly whispered, and the new Emperor of Xing gave him an eye roll. "Enjoy this, while you can. My Father would have already had your head chopped off." "Another Father has tried and failed already. Get in line," Edward said in the same tone he so often gave Mustang. Ling just sighed and wagged his head.
May also came up to say her goodbyes. "Edward, Alphonse, I also enjoyed the journey with you," she started. "You can just call us Ed and Al, you know," Edward told her. "Ah, let her do as she wants, brother." "You are both great friends, and I am already sad that we have to split up," she continued and looked ready to start crying again. Alphonse slowly kneeled to her level. "You are making this sound like we are splitting up forever. When I get to a place, that I can make the journey, I fully plan on visiting Xing."
She hugged him again, and he let it hang for a moment before pulling back. "Now come on, you have a duty to your family. Go, and we will see each other again soon enough." She gave a bow and turned around to follow the others. "A part of me is absolutely terrified that an eleven-year-old girl has had to endure everything she has due to power politics," Edward said as they left hearing range. "The succession to the throne of Xing must have been made up by a freaking masochist," Alphonse agreed, and they continued walking to the medical supply tent.
"You also made a rather specific promise there. We just managed to find our goal, and you would already leave for an entirely different country?" "Ed, I have to walk with you holding me up. I will probably not be able to do much on my own for months. I would genuinely not be surprised, if May didn't manage to find an excuse to visit us first." They finally reached the tent and Edward pushed the flap out of the way.
"One of your doctors told use to ask you for supplies," he told a man sitting at a table just inside, and handed him a paper he pulled out of his pocket. The man quickly read it. "We will get it ready," he told them, and went to the back behind a wall made of boxes. He came back a minute later with several piles of clothes and both crutches and walking sticks. "Here you go, sir." "Thank you," Ed responded as he took the clothes, crutches and sticks under his left armpit.
Jean Havoc was not impressed when he received Mustang's summons along with a car to drive him into Central. "Sure. Let's make a paraplegic ride over an hour to the Capital," he muttered as he had to use just his hand strength to throw himself up from his wheelchair and get into the car seat. The driver put the wheelchair into the trunk, and they drove off as the Havoc family looked at the scene with combined looks of disbelief and confusion.
Getting into the hospital was even more annoying. The fact that the main hospital in the Capital was so hard for disabled people to access made Havoc grumble several curses. The medics just decided to use a stretcher and carry him inside. "Mr. Havoc, what are you doing here," a voice called as they finally brought him to the proper floor. "Quit squirming, or I will cut you by accident," a different female voice complained.
Havoc turned around and was briefly confused as to why a blonde girl getting a haircut called out for him. Then he noticed the gold eyes and realized why. "Alphonse?! Is that you?" The boy turned back towards him, and the hairdresser groaned and used both her hands to force him to look straight ahead before continuing to cut his hair. Absurdly long bangs continued to fall to the floor. "Yeah, we will be spending some time together. They booked our physical therapy sessions together."
"Physical therapy... Is that why Mustang called me here?" "Well, not directly," Edward said as he came from behind Havoc. "He has a special treatment to restore your ability to walk. They are waiting for you just up ahead. Let's not keep them waiting," he added, slightly pushing the stretcher, and the medics started to move along again. "According to Marcoh he was insistent that you get your turn first." Before Havoc could ask who would get the second turn, they entered the room.
Most of Roy Mustang's group except Fuery, who was still attending to Mrs. Bradley, was present. "Well, isn't this an emotional reunion," Havoc said with a smile as they placed him on a bed opposite to Mustang and Hawkeye. "Good to see you are still keeping in good spirits," responded Mustang, and as Havoc sat up in the bed, he noticed his old boss had clouded eyes and was not exactly looking in his direction.
Tim Marcoh, who had been standing in between the other two beds, walked forward and pulled out his stone. "Oh. So this is what you meant by treatment," Havoc realised as Edward joined the doctor on the right side of the bed. "Well, there is not much that can fix getting speared through the lower spine," Marcoh explained as he pulled back Havoc's shirt and moved the stone closer to him. "You might feel a slight pressure. I honestly haven't used a stone to fix this much damage before."
A red light briefly filled the room and Havoc winced slightly. He did feel pressure and also some flashes of pain, but not enough to be really uncomfortable. "That should do it," Marcoh stated. "Try slightly moving your legs. But keep in mind that you have spent half a year in a wheelchair without movement. Your muscles have probably lost most of their strength." Jean nodded and tried to command his finger to move. "Well, that looks good," noted Edward as they did indeed move.
"Thank you," Havoc said and offered Marcoh his hand to shake. The man reluctantly returned the gesture before turning toward Mustang. "Is there anyone else you wish to have a go before you?" The colonel wagged his head. "The only other people I would wish to help have already passed. I think everybody here knows that trying that would be a horrible idea." Edward scoffed and made an annoyed eye roll. "If somebody actually even considers it, I will beat them up personally. It would hurt a lot less than getting involved with Truth.
Also, if you actually get perfect vision back, I will be very surprised," he declared as Marcoh walked over to the other bed. "And why would that be the case," Mustang asked with a raised eyebrow that utterly failed to show his emotion, since he looked in slightly the wrong direction to where Ed actually was. "Why are you blind now," Havoc asked, and the boy turned to him with his right hand extended towards the colonel. "Father needed five sacrifices, so they forced him to trigger a human transmutation array.
Since the being that has command over alchemy has gripes with proud alchemists, they gave him a punishment in spite of it being an unwilling transmutation. Because he has grand dreams of a future that he wishes to make true by his own power, the Truth took away his sight. They are a big fan of ironic punishments. It is for that exact reason that I am calling it right now: If Marcoh actually restores his sight, Mustang will be myopic!"
Another red light filled the room, and the cloudiness vanished from Mustang's eyes. He looked around with a smile for a moment before it slightly abated, and his face took on a more neutral tone. "I was right, wasn't I?" Roy Mustang very loudly groaned and gave the slightest nod. "At least glasses are easy to come by," Breda tried to cheer his superior up. "I can't even see Havoc's face. All I see is a vague blob," said superior ground out through clenched teeth.
Someone knocked at the door and when it opened the hairdresser from earlier and Hohenheim helped Alphonse, who now actually had short hair, to enter the room. Edward promptly ran over to help, and Al was laid down in a bed next to Havoc and opposite to Hawkeye. "Good to see that they actually bothered with giving you clothes," Van noted, since he was dressed in a blue shirt and black pants.
"They did, and I am now enjoying my legs trying to kill me for daring to walk a few hundred metres at a snail's pace," Al responded and took another glass of water that Edward got him, while muttering a thanks. "What about you, Mr. Havoc, did Doctor Marcoh's treatment work," he asked as he turned his head to the left. "Well, I have the feeling back in my legs. But you were right; we will have the delight of sharing the anguish of physical therapy together," Jean answered and gave him a fist to bump back.
Al laughed and did so. Meanwhile, Hohenheim walked to Roy Mustang and took a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Colonel, as the future head of the government, I have a request for you," he began and handed the folded page to him. "Before the battle began, the souls of the Xerxians agreed to write this down. It is basically the Last Will of the entire country that they have asked Amestris to execute in their stead. It's not a lot, but we all want to make sure that the stuff we left behind won't hurt people."
Mustang folded it open and sure enough the text was written in neat handwriting and introduced itself as the "Last Will and Testament of the Kingdom of Xerxes," before proceeding to a list of requests or bequests. "We can certainly try, but the Great Desert is legally terra nullius, so we cannot exactly do much directly. Would it not be easier for you to be the executor as a private person?" Hohenheim frowned and wagged his head. Without further words, he turned around and went back to Al.
He took out another and smaller piece of paper and handed it to Edward. The boy sighed and, as much as he hated it, a tear escaped his eye. "I can guess, what that is," he told his father without looking to check. "Alphonse," Van said as he sat on the bed and his younger son turned his full attention to him. "The stone that was attached to my body no longer exists. Do you understand what that means?" After a moment, the boy answered. "You are now mortal."
"Technically I was always mortal, just hardier than most," Hohenheim corrected and Ed loudly coughed. "Do not get distracted with technicalities," he said. "I no longer have access to a vast source of life supporting energy, and as such I will now age as a normal person." He took a deep breath. "I have a lot of debt in that department, that I must now finally repay," he added while looking down. He did not notice tears leaking from Al's eyes before he threw himself at him.
"No! Please! We finally have a chance to be a family," the boy exclaimed as he tried to hug his father as hard as possible. Van returned the hug, and Edward joined from behind. "I am so sorry, son, but with me there was a never a chance for that." The crying got more intense, but despite that, Hohenheim smiled slightly as he noticed even Ed's eyes were leaking. "I could not be prouder of you two. Despite having a terrible father, you turned out so well."
In the end, Alphonse convinced their father to stay with them until nightfall, and the hospital provided a seat in the room for Hohenheim to sit in. Edward got an extra bed, because he was technically speaking a patient and for once actually acted like one. Van and Alphonse kept talking for a long time, and eventually the boy stopped crying, more out of exhaustion than anything else. "Say hi to mom from us," he said before falling asleep. "I promise."
Edward got ready to sleep himself, but first he offered his father a banknote. "This should be enough to get you back to Resembool shortly after sunrise," he explained, and his father thanked him for it. "I will admit you are a good man, Van Hohenheim," he began before changing his tone, but still being genuine and not accusing. "But, fucking hell, were you not good father material." Hohenheim sadly nodded. "I consider that a kind assessment, Edward.
I had planned on having a family back in Xerxes, but when I finally got one, everything went so badly wrong. When I fell for Trisha, the souls inside my stone insisted that I should try. I'll be honest with you. When I found out Trisha was pregnant with you, I felt fear for the first time in years. Now, true, a part of it was my fear you would inherit my nature." Edward involuntarily shuddered. "A very fair reaction. But then everything seemed alright for a few years."
"And suddenly it all went to shit," Edward guessed with a single nod. "I found out about Father's plans and decided to counter them. I expected it would take a year." Ed blew a raspberry. "Yeah, right," he added. "Maybe being immortal made me lose the ability to estimate, how long something would last. Nonetheless, I technically succeeded, and I must leave it to you to keep Amestris safe. Sorry."
"I understand," his elder son began and gave him a hug. "Now go and join mom. You were a good person, and we will make sure you are remembered as such. Rest in peace, father. Give mom our love and thanks if there is something after all this. She has waited for you long enough." "Thank you," Van said and left the room. Before he walked out of the hospital, he was already crying.
The day after, Pinako Rockbell found his deceased body sitting in front of Trisha Elric's grave with a smile frozen on its face. His hair had turned gray and his skin was cracked. Thus, the Philosopher of the West and with him the Xerxian nation finally died.
Edward had to say that these hospital beds seemed to have greatly improved over the last months. The feeling of warmth and peace was so perfect, it almost seemed like he was resting in an expensive hotel. A childish giggle by his side stirred him somewhat, and he opened his eyes a bit. The room appeared to still be brightly lit and despite someone sitting on the side of his bed, he did not feel as concerned as such a thing would normally make him.
He looked up to see this person more clearly. What he was not expecting was his own face; especially since it looked like he had a few years earlier. There was something oddly serene about the smile on them as well. He then noticed two other children sitting further towards the other end of the bed. Alphonse and Winry also looked like they had back before everything went to hell. "Congrats. You finally defeated that Truth – jerk. You got our arms back, and you got Al back," said this child version of him.
"Is this a dream or am I going nuts?" All three kids laughed. "Of course it's a dream, silly, just look around," answered Winry and moved her hand around to indicate their surroundings. Finally, Edward noticed the bed was the only thing visible in an empty space. The surrounding looked like the realm of Truth, but much less intimidating and safe. The area had this aura of familiarity. And Edward was questioning how he could tell that. Then again, this made about as much sense as his usual dreams. At least it didn't appear to be a nightmare, so he would call it a win.
"I usually don't realise I'm dreaming until I wake up and usually if I dream, it is some ghastly nightmare cooked by my subconscious from all my regrets. Why is today different?" "Isn't it obvious? You beat Father and won against Truth. Today, your regrets are having a holiday somewhere in the deep subconscious. They aren't that mean," Alphonse explained and rubbed his neck as a small gleaming tear slipped from his right eye.
Dream-Edward elbowed his brother. "Are you still crying about that?" Alphonse wiped his eyes with his left hand. "You're too; admit it, and we'll both feel better." Somehow, Ed didn't have to ask what they were talking about. "This is about Hohenheim, isn't it," he guessed. The child version of himself huffed and folded his hands in front of him. "We didn't need him for years. We're going to live just fine."
"You're probably going to be annoyed with me," Ed started while trying to not smile sadly at the fact that his dream counterparts' pout and folded hands made him look like someone, who thought covering sadness with anger made him look like an adult. Fine! He was guilty as charged. Dream-Edward looked at him with a look that screamed something like "Don't even dare!"
"He was a man in over his head. The fact he managed to stay with us at all was more luck than anything else. That doesn't mean he was a good father, he most certainly wasn't. But I think I can forgive him for it. Doesn't mean I'll forget or that the hurt will go away. But what will holding on to it do. Especially now, that he is going to die within days, if not hours."
"Fine," the boy said with an exasperated note and an over the top "whatever" hand gesture, that looked closer to a petulant teenager, than a ten-year-old. Alphonse suddenly hugged him from behind, and he turned his head to the side with closed eyes. As Winry walked around to join in the hug, a tear escaped his left eye and fell down. It disappeared in a flash of light before it could hit the bedsheet.
Winry patted his head. "There, there," you don't have to hide the pain. "You couldn't hide it from us if you wanted. To us in here or those in reality," she told him and looked pointedly at the real Edward as the second sentence left her mouth. Ed could only sigh. Even his subconscious was telling him to drop the tough boy charade.
"This is my Truth, isn't it? The whole "I am you" spiel, that Truth did back in the day, am I right?" All children smiled, though Ed and Al were still crying a bit. "You got that quick," exclaimed Alphonse. "We came to tell you, that you can let go. It's time to start living like a normal person. You've done more in four years than some do in four decades... or in dad's case, four centuries."
Winry sat down between both Edwards and, without letting go of the younger, pushed aside of the bang of the elder's hair. "Your fight is over, go back home and rest. You can have your peace. No more fate dragging you around like a marionette." "When you wake up, Amestris will be new. You can be a new person too, if you want," added Alphonse. "Let the 'Fullmetal Alchemist' be swallowed up by history. It was never us and you know it. Go and be the random guy from Resembool you would have been, had the world not been an unjust bastard to us," Dream-Ed concluded.
"I can never really be that," argued the older version. "You can't undo what happened. Though it's over now, there is so much good that came of it, that I cannot imagine not going through it." He then looked down and noticed that at some point, Winry and his younger self had started holding each other by their hands, rather than just Winry grabbing the latter's arm. "Is that what passes for a subtle hint here," he asked suddenly tired, which he previously didn't know was a thing in dreams.
Al giggled. "What do you think?" Well in a language of the subconscious that was definitely a 'yes,' wasn't it. Winry and Dream-Ed laughed a bit and moved their linked hands forward as if teasing. "You are not going to try and tells us you 'don't think of her like that,' I hope," the latter said. "We both know describing our thoughts about her as such, would be really stretching the definition of 'chaste'," he added with an evil smile. The older Ed punched the sheet in annoyance.
"Damn it, fine, it's not a 'like a sibling' love. Are you happy?! As if I didn't get enough teasing from real people over the last year, now my own subconscious is getting in on it." "Or maybe it's so freaking obvious, even your head is sick of trying to find new excuses," argued Dream-Winry, who suddenly looked like she did now and let go of Dream-Edward's hand. Ed found out that you can apparently blush in dreams too as she tried to snuggle closer to him. Look at her eyes, dammit!
"Now that I admitted it; would you experts tell me, what the hell I am supposed to do with that knowledge?" At the shrug all three dream people gave him, Edward made loudly groaned, and all three started laughing. "It's your choice," explained Alphonse. "We don't know what's outside of you. But you could always tell her." "I don't bite," argued Dream-Winry with a smile Edward knew indicated the exact opposite. He had seen the exact same thing on the real one enough to know.
"You're not helping. Is there something else you want to tell me, or is this all?" "Just one thing," interrupted the other Edward, who in an instant changed to look like the real one did now, though with different clothes. "Truth gave us a message for you." He coughed a fist in front of his mouth and then started talking in a tone that sounded like someone trying to seem high class, but sounding extremely pretentious instead. "Your regret shall become happiness. Your despair shall become hope. Your fear shall become love. Now sleep, child, for a blessing is to be enjoyed and not slept through."
The real Ed was suddenly hit by a strong dizziness and fell down on the pillow. The next time he opened his eyes, it was almost nine in the morning, and he was back in the hospital room. Both Alphonse and Jean Havoc were gone, since their first physical therapy started at half past eight. "Just tell her," Edward muttered in a mocking tone to an empty room. Roy Mustang had already left with the rest of his team. He and Hawkeye had a meeting to attend as part of the new Government of Amestris.
The day after the Promised Day, the Parliament of Amestris was called together. The building that housed their meetings had been built in 1811 after the Wellesley Incident and had promulgated the Constitution that instituted the Second Republic of Amestris. Officially it was supposed to be a legislative branch elected by the people. Unofficially, it was a glorified rubber stamp that hadn't lasted even three decades. The main room had been used for storage for over half a century. Even now, it still had piles of stuff on one side of it, because it would take more than two days to clean it all.
The front was the only somewhat presentable part of it. The Führer's seat – which was blatantly a throne – had its upholstery replaced, and the front bench had been cleaned, so that the government appointed cameraman could take pictures of the proceedings, that would make it look classy and not like this was happening in a glorified dump, which was much closer to the truth. Grumman sat upon the seat, and Secretary Douglas moved a small table in front of him. He also gave him a small gavel, with which the Führer banged upon a circular platform upon the table. This act would recall parliament from an almost eight decade long suspension.
"I hereby call the Parliament of Amestris into session. I pass the gavel to the Secretary of State and call our new ministerial candidates to the front to receive their offices and pronounce their oaths," he announced as the cameraman took photos of both him and the table. Mustang, Armstrong, Henschel, Hawkeye and Marcoh rose from the front bench as Douglas took the gavel and walked to the front podium, which also had a raised circular bit to strike the gavel on.
"Are there any of our members, who disagree with these candidates," said Douglas with an amused tone and made a point of pretending to look across the empty benches on either side of the room. He had an arm above his eyes and all. Olivier Armstrong did not bother to suppress an eye roll at this. "Apparently, all are in favour," Douglas said with a casual tone. Given the last members of parliament had died in the early 1890s; it would have been impressive if someone had voiced their opposition.
For those familiar with the constitution, they would know that this was an abuse of law. Ministers were supposed to be either members of parliament or approved of by a unanimous vote. Douglas casually pulled out a little booklet, which was the Parliament session minutes, and noted the first vote as 'No dissents,' despite also having a quorum of zero. In his books, all six were now lawfully invested as Ministers and had voting right in Parliament.
A soldier walked to Grumman and had him a golden sword that had once been used by Kings of Amestris. The sword had been taken by the Führers as a sign of their power afterward. It was heavy and filled with more jewels that you would think reasonable. It was also entirely about ceremony and had zero practical use. The Secretary would gavel, say a candidate's full name and ask that they step forward. As each new minister would come to Grumman, he would tap them on their right and left shoulder, say to what positions he was raising them and they would give their oaths.
As had been agreed during the months of planning Mustang was made Prime Minister, Armstrong was given the Ministries of Interior and Defence (she deemed them the most important and superior to the premiership), Hawkeye was given Finance and Justice, Henschel got Diplomacy and Industry and Doctor Marcoh, of course, got Health. All proclaimed their will to "serve Amestris with all our strength and bring prosperity to the people." Each appointment was photographed from many angles to give various possibilities for official publishing.
"Are you done," Armstrong had complained, when the photographer took a seventh photo of her kneeling before Grumman. The others were less impatient, but still found the whole process annoying. Grumman was clearly straining to maintain a dignified statesman pose throughout as he blatantly read, off the cheat cards Douglas had placed on his table just out of the camera's view, the exact words required by law.
The double tapping was difficult, when the sword weighed thirty kilos. Grumman had nearly hit Marcoh in his scarred face and Henschel got struck right in his nose, when Grumman failed to raise it high enough before moving to the other shoulder. Riza had ducked slightly for her grandfather's sake at her own ceremony.
In addition, Mustang was raised to the position of General, Henschel and Hawkeye were made Lieutenant General and since Grumman was a widower and Riza was his closest female relative, she was also declared the new First Lady of Amestris. Mrs. Bradley had been invited to the proceedings, so she could immediately introduce her successor to the duties and rights of the office in a private meeting after the session was ended.
"Don't worry; I think you will enjoy it, dear. It is certainly not as difficult as being a Führer's secretary." Riza doubted there could ever actually be such a thing, given who the Führer she served had been. Then again, Wrath upheld a statesman like pose even in more private settings, so maybe she was being a bit of unfair. And wow, it was odd to think that about a homunculus. Hindsight was weird like that.