Chapter Text
Wind whipped around them, and the swirling snow was blinding. The cold penetrated everything, rendering their stolen coats useless. Two figures, barely visible through the blowing curtains of white, fought the wind and accumulating snow. One was taller with dark hair and dark eyes. The other was shorter, with golden hair and golden eyes. Both were alchemists.
As they continued to trudge forward, they wondered how everything could have spun so far out of control, forcing them to fight for their lives against the elements. Having come from an already bad situation, the sudden blizzard only made survival that much harder.
Edward was limping. His damaged automail leg crackled and sparked as the exposed wires came into contact with the wind and damp snow surrounding them. His damp, golden hair whipped in the wind and stuck to his face, so he had to keep brushing it away, only to have it fly back again.
Mustang, walking only a pace in front of Edward, stumbled as the deepening snow sucked further energy from his already abused and exhausted body. At this point, even only a few inches of snow would have made walking difficult for the malnourished and battered Colonel, let alone a full-blown blizzard.
The deepening snow also posed a problem for Edward. However but besides hunger, he was in far better condition than the Colonel, despite his broken automail.
Both silently peered through the thickening snow as they continued forward, hoping to find some form of shelter before they succumbed to the frigid cold.
About three weeks earlier...
The order sitting on Mustang’s desk glared back at him in plain black and white.
Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, was to take Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, on a mission in the north near the Drachma border. Mustang could not fathom why the mission was on his desk.
‘There are plenty of alchemists stationed in the north, and that Ice Queen is up there too. What are they thinking?’
Mustang, in fact, knew precisely what the higher-ups of the Amestrian army were thinking. Roy Mustang was a Colonel. Although reaching the rank of Colonel in one’s twenties was not unheard of, generally, someone needed a little over twenty years of service before reaching the rank of Colonel. However, as a State Alchemist, he had started as a Major, and due to his notoriety as the Hero of Ishval, he had quickly moved up the ranks.
As a Colonel, Mustang was a senior-ranked field officer. Considering the circumstances of the mission, it was not surprising that the higher-ups wanted someone with a higher rank and experience on the mission. Mustang, however, was not from the north. While other officers knew the lay of the land and the people much better, Mustang was Edward Elric’s commanding officer, and the higher-ups wanted Edward on this mission.
Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, was involved due to his exceptional skill, but more so as a means to provide Fullmetal with additional training since he was a young and newly admitted alchemist to the ranks.
Edward had passed his State Alchemist test almost one year ago and had recently turned thirteen. After receiving his license, Edward began fulfilling some of his duties. However, but the army officials waited until he turned thirteen before assigning him more official responsibilities as a State Alchemist and a soldier in the army.
Fortunately, the army would wait until Edward was sixteen before they would consider deploying him to the front lines of one – or more of – the many conflicts surrounding the nation’s borders. Mustang himself sincerely hoped that Edward would find a way to restore his and his brother’s bodies before turning sixteen so that Edward could leave the army before then.
Mustang was one of the very few people who knew the real reason why Edward decided to become a dog of the military. Edward and his brother Alphonse had committed an alchemist’s ultimate taboo, human transmutation. They had attempted to create a human using alchemy so that they could revive their dead mother. In the process, Edward lost a leg, and Alphonse lost his entire body. To save his brother, Edward then gave his right arm in another transmutation to bind his brother’s soul to a suit of armor.
Despite the cost of human transmutation, Edward had gained the ability to transmute without drawing a circle, and his abilities had gained the army’s notice. So, Mustang had gone to recruit him, only to find he was an eleven-year-old child. Now, Edward was using the many resources the military had to offer to search for a way to restore his and his brother’s bodies.
The army had great expectations for Edward Elric, much like they had expectations of Mustang. They had used Mustang’s skills in one of the nation’s most horrendous wars, a genocide, that the army had perpetrated. Mustang never wanted Elric to experience the horrors that could come with being in the military.
However, now that Edward was thirteen, he needed more training. Hence, the orders were given for Mustang and Edward to go and complete the mission.
The mission sitting on Mustang’s desk was simple reconnaissance. The military had received word that a small rebel group, possibly associated with Drachma, the nation to the north, was gathering and making contact across the border. The generals in Central wanted to confirm if such a group existed and, if so, gather information on them so that a larger force could be deployed to quell the rebels.
Mustang continued to glare at the orders until Hawkeye, who had been watching him for the last minute, interrupted.
“Staring at the orders will not make them disappear or help you finish the mission quickly.”
Mustang looked up at his trusty First Lieutenant, and she met his gaze. Then, Mustang sighed.
“Yes, Lieutenant. I understand. I’m just considering all the potential…” he paused, trying to find the right words “…issues that might arise given my notoriety and Fullmetal’s required presence. Although I understand the Fuhrer and the generals’ purpose, I am not keen on taking Fullmetal with me, even if they want him to gain experience. It doesn’t help that the orders specifically state we are to go alone in order to keep the reconnaissance group small. We won’t have backup.”
Mustang stood and began to pace, waving his hands.
“First, as you know, normally such a mission would be conducted with a small group of trained soldiers who work well together, maybe with a Colonel, but even a Lieutenant Colonel would be more than adequate.”
He stopped for a moment and then continued with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Second, despite my rank, to require that I complete the mission with only one other person, especially someone who has no field experience or experience in reconnaissance whatsoever, is odd. Normally, if such a mission were ordered of me, I would take you and at least one or two more members of the team. Three to four people would keep our numbers down, enabling us to keep our cover, but also give us the necessary backup and experience on the team to complete it safely.”
Mustang stopped pacing to face his First Lieutenant.
“If I am to only take Edward, despite his skill as an alchemist, it will be as if I am completing the mission solo. I hoped to keep him busy on missions I assigned to him myself, and only those concerning the search for the stone, via whatever excuse necessary. I wanted to keep him out of the way, so he and his brother could restore their bodies and be done with the military. I was not expecting to take him on such a dangerous or delicate mission so soon, let alone a mission near the Drachma border, which makes it all the more dangerous.”
Risa Hawkeye silently watched her commanding officer pace as he laid out his thoughts on the mission. She agreed with Mustang that the mission's directives were odd. Both soldiers knew that this was by no means normal.
When Hawkeye spoke, she spoke slowly, “Although I agree with you, the higher-ups may be considering the fact that both you and Edward are State Alchemists. They may feel that only two people are necessary, even if one is new to the army and has no experience.” Her voice almost faltered as she finished, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
“I understand,” Mustang groaned, “but even from the few missions he has completed, it should be obvious that he is not ready! He destroyed one and damaged several other buildings on his last mission, which garnered complaints. Then, when he did fix them, he redesigned them with skulls, which caused even more complaints!”
The exasperation in Mustang’s voice was palatable. Both officers looked at each other but knew nothing could be done. The Fuhrer himself signed the order.
Mustang sighed and sat back down at his desk. He quickly signed the document and handed it to Hawkeye.
“Please send this back to Central, and file it correctly, but keep a copy for yourself, two if you think it necessary.” Mustang gave Hawkeye a pointed and knowing look.
“I do not want this,” Mustang pointed at the document now in Hawkeye’s hands, “to get away from us. I also want an order written for supplies. I want a clear paper trail. If anything goes sideways, I don’t want us to take the blame or give anyone an excuse to try and lay blame on us. The higher-ups already don’t like me because I’ve advanced so quickly. I don’t completely trust our military, and the more paperwork there is, the harder it will be to conceal it if anything does go wrong. I have too many enemies to allow any complaints about how we conduct this mission.”
‘I hope.’ Mustang rubbed his eyes. ‘Now, I only have to break the news to Fullmetal.’
Hawkeye gave Mustang a slight bow and left to make sure no one could make any accusations about the mission. As she left, Hawkeye decided to ensure that General Gunman saw a copy of the orders before sending the signed paperwork back to Central, confirming that the Flame and Fullmetal alchemists were on the mission, a mission from the Fuhrer himself.
Dishes, cups, pots, and pans were neatly stacked in the draining rack next to the sink. Two clean, colorful, and precisely folded towels, one for hands and the other for dishes, hung from the stove handle. The counters were clean and orderly.
A woman stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the main hall, and she gazed longingly down the hall to her husband’s study. He had cooped himself up in the study for weeks now, barely eating or sleeping, in his attempt to obtain a State Alchemist license.
Behind the doors to the study, the husband bent over the failed transmutation. A single candle lit the room, casting dark shadows on the walls. His hands gripped his head, tearing at his hair. His beard was coming in, and a slight smell emanated from him since he had neither shaved nor showered for some time in his attempt to make the transmutation perfect. He felt himself and all his hopes spiraling downward. He needed the transmutation to work so he could care for his family. They had bills and a large debt to pay.
His thoughts spun. ‘No, this has to work! I need to make this work!’
As he knelt, trying to determine what had gone wrong with the latest transmutation, he squeezed his eyes shut. He had attempted to fuse a monkey and a pig, two animals known for their high levels of intelligence. He had drawn the transmutation circle to bring together the best qualities of both, but it was a failure.
Behind him, cold eyes gleamed down at the fumbling alchemist. The observer had been invited to watch the alchemist’s potentially revolutionary attempt. The eyes almost gleamed red as a sinister smile crept across the observer’s face. The alchemist was useless to them, but that did not mean that the observer could not have some fun with the bumbling man.
“You wanted to make a chimera that could talk? Right?”
The voice behind the alchemist made him jump. He had almost forgotten about the observer in the room.
“I’m sorry this was such a disappointment.” The alchemist stood as he spoke, wringing his hands together nervously.
The observer’s sinister smile was quickly covered as the alchemist turned, but the eyes remained cold.
“You will never make it at this point, and you and your family will be destitute. I may not be an alchemist, but I would think that with better materials, you might be more successful.”
The alchemist studied the observer, “You mean, Alexan…”
He stopped when the observer shook his head. The observer then stepped forward and whispered in the alchemist’s ear.
“It involves bringing in another…”
Words almost became inaudible and initially were so horrifying that the alchemist balked.
“You cannot mean…,” shock played across the alchemist’s face as he stood and backed away from those cold and penetrating eyes.
The observer only nodded, “You can’t seriously think you’ll be successful without making sacrifices, don’t you? Humans always make sacrifices, leaving the weak behind. Scientists must do what is necessary to make strides toward progress, do they not?”
“But how could I use… someone’s…”
The observer took a step forward, and the alchemist took a step back, “You’re a scientist, aren’t you? It is the only way to succeed. You can only do so much with animals, after all. It will be much easier if you start with better materials, right?”
The alchemist shook his head, but the idea now planted in his mind began to grow unchecked, and the necessary transmutation circle took form in his mind. He could be successful, but doubts as to whether the cost was worth the end product, the success of his years’ worth of research, whirled in his mind.
The observer smiled as he saw the war playing out on the alchemist’s face. “The opportunity is right there, in front of you. You only have to take it in hand to be successful.”
The alchemist shook his head.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” and with that, the observer disappeared.
The alchemist, however, did not notice as he dropped to his knees on the ground. He battled between the slowly dimming horror and the enticing transmutation circle growing in his mind.
The wife, still standing in the kitchen door, sighed. She always wondered why he chose bio-alchemy. The results of his transmutations always made her feel uneasy, and his latest attempt to make a chimera that could talk seemed unnatural to her. She shuddered as she turned to fondly watch her daughter sleeping on the floor of the living room, arms wrapped around the neck of the family dog, Alexander. She felt her heart soften once again, and a smile spread across her face as it always did when she watched over their little one.
Their daughter was their greatest achievement, and he was missing her growth. He was trying to create a talking chimera, but with all his focus on alchemy, he had missed many of the first moments in their daughter’s life, from learning to walk, and ironically, learning how to talk. A bittersweet feeling rose up in her heart and mind. Too many arguments had surrounded their current financial state, and his obsessive need to create a talking chimera, which she believed contributed to their current financial struggles.
‘He tries so hard to make his chimeras talk, but he’s missing all the little things. He has a daughter right here, and in his attempt to create a talking chimera, he even missed her first words. He’s missing the important things that make life so precious.’
In the dark study, eyes gleamed with near madness as a plan formed in the mind of the alchemist, Shou Tucker.
Back at Eastern Command, when Edward returned with a sloppily written report later that afternoon, he was not happy with the long lecture from an irritated Mustang concerning how to complete a mission and write a report. Edward was also exceedingly unhappy that he had to go on a mission with Mustang, especially one that had no bearing on returning his and his brother’s bodies to their normal forms.
Mustang sighed in exasperation, “I have no say in the matter, Fullmetal. These orders are from the Fuhrer himself. You made an impression with your cheeky attack during your exam, thus obtaining his interest. Your missions over the last year have only fueled it further. He thinks you need the experience, and whether he is amused or punishing us both, I cannot say, but there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“This is not what I signed up for, Colonel Bastard! Anyway, that was almost a year ago!”
“Edward, that is not how you address your superior officers!”
“Like I care. I’m only here to get Al’s and my bodies back.”
Mustang took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, while Edward continued to glare, huffing.
“We do not have a choice, Fullmetal. You made the decision to join the army, and there are certain responsibilities with the postion that lie beyond your own purposes. Furthermore, I have already signed the orders indicating that we are leaving. You will need to prepare for the mission and meet me tomorrow at 0900 hours to catch the northbound train. Alphonse will need to stay here. He will be fine with Hawkeye and the others keeping watch over him.”
“Now, you will need…” and Mustang began to detail the orders for the mission, what Edward would need to pack, transportation arrangements, and potential threats.
“Finally, we will need a cover for the mission. As soon as you step out of this office, the next time you see me, you will address me as Mr. Whitmore, and you will be my apprentice, Henry. We will pose as an alchemy master and apprentice.”
“What? Why? I don’t want the likes of…”
“Fullmetal,” Mustang barked, and Edward went silent. “I realize that you have no desire to ‘learn’ alchemy from me, even as a cover. However, we need a cover that allows us to use alchemy in case we need it. It will also give us an excuse to go into stores for supplies or even into the woods for so-called practice. We, by no means, are to allow anyone to know we are state alchemists. So, bring chalk and try to avoid clap alchemy if you can when in front of others.”
Mustang leveled his eyes on Edward. “The higher-ups think I can blend in with the surrounding people. However, it will be important to use my cover name during this mission. The Drachmans have heard of me, and some may even have a description of me. By no means is anyone to find out who I am, or for that matter, who you are, just in case the Drachmans are, in fact, involved. You may be relatively new, but all precautions must be made.”
Mustang continued, “The border region is not safe. So again, do not use clap-alchemy. Even I won’t use my flame alchemy unless absolutely necessary. We may even be asked to do some alchemy when people find out we are master and apprentice alchemists, so we need to put on a good show as average alchemists.”
“I get it! I get it! This is a crucial mission, and maintaining secrecy is essential. You’ve said it a million times. I do know the meaning of reconnaissance. I’m not stupid, but I don’t have to like the restrictions on my alchemy or the requirement to be your student!”
“You don’t have to like that you’re posing as my student, but it’s a good cover for us. As for the reconnaissance, it is not a matter of knowing or not knowing the word and its meaning. It is a matter of experience, Fullmetal. The higher-ups want you on this mission, not just because you are a skilled alchemist, but because you need field training and experience. It will be imperative that you listen to me. It could be the difference between life and death.”
Edward, however, rolled his eyes.
‘How hard can this be? You just have to stay hidden and look for the bad guys. It’s not like I need a babysitter or someone telling me how to look for and gather information on some renegade group of rebels. Ugh, and this whole cover story just sounds like a big waste of time that will slow us down!’
Mustang interrupted Edward’s internal complaints. “Alright, go back to the barracks and get ready. You should also explain the situation to Alphonse. He needs to know that he should stay here.”
“He’s not one of your dogs! So, you can’t order him around!”
“Edward! You are going on a mission, and your brother is to stay here. He is too conspicuous, and it will help keep him safe.”
Edward glared at Mustang but turned on his heel to walk out the door.
“Fine.”
“Ah, Edward.” Mustang called to Edward just before he left Mustang’s inner office, “Remember, after we return, there will only be a little bit of time before your first assessment. State Alchemists have yearly assessments. You should have enough time after we return, but it won’t be a lot of time. Can you be prepared?”
Edward rolled his eyes, “Of course I’ll be ready. I could have the report written up in the time it takes to ride the train from here to Resembool. That means I can have it done before we even reach North City tomorrow. I might as well get the stupid stuff out of the way while I’m being distracted by unnecessary things, even if it will be early. It’s their fault for giving me a mission so close to the assessment. I’m going to want to go back to finding a way to get our bodies back as soon as we return from this dumb mission, you hear? I don’t want to do the dumb report then.”
Edward pointed his finger at Mustang and then spun around to stalk out the door. As he went, he called to his brother, “Al, we’re…”
The door shut, cutting off whatever Edward was about to say to Al. Mustang rested his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. Edward’s report was shoved unceremoniously to one corner of Mustang’s desk, almost forgotten. Mustang picked up the phone and dialed, dreading his friend’s reaction when he realized who was calling.
“Lieutenant Colonel Hughes speaking...”
And Mustang proceeded to unleash his torrent of questions concerning how to deal with what he called an annoying brat on a highly sensitive mission.
Outside the room, the rest of the team looked up as the door shut behind Edward.
“Al, we’re leaving.”
“Hear you’re going on a mission up north with the Boss, Chief.” Havoc leaned back, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.
“Really, Brother? We haven’t seen the north before.”
“Sorry, Al, but he says you can’t go with us. I’ll explain more back at the barracks.”
“It will be a good experience for you, kid.” Breda leaned forward. “I hear they have great food, too!”
“You’ll be able to learn a lot with this mission,” Furey smiled, and Falman nodded behind him.
Edward smirked, “Yeah, thanks, guys. I guess I’ll see you when we get back.”
Hawkeye stopped him before he could turn to leave. She was holding a hiking backpack from one of its straps.
“What’s this?” Edward gave Hawkeye a confused look.
Hawkeye smiled, “You’ll need a backpack for your things. You’ll be hiking through the woods after all. You don’t want to have to carry a suitcase around on this mission.”
Edward sighed, “Thanks.”
A chorus of farewells followed Edward and Alphonse out the door, and the brothers made their way through the halls of Eastern Command to the outside world.
Above them, the sky was a stormy grey, ready with the threat of rain. Edward’s ports had begun to ache almost as soon as they stepped off the train when they returned to East City earlier that day, and before they returned to the office. Their return and the new mission only served to worsen Edward’s mood. Alphonse was curious about the mission but decided to wait until his brother was ready to talk.
The brothers said nothing as they walked down the streets, which were rapidly emptying of people trying to escape the looming threat from above. October storms were particularly harsh in the East as the weather transitioned from summer to fall.
The darkness of the room was absolute. The only breaks in the perpetual dark were the hundreds of gleeful but sinister half-mooned eyes and sharp, bared teeth.
“We cannot have him moving around too much and risk losing him.” The disembodied voice that echoed around the room was factual and paused for only a second before echoing out eerily and haughtily, “If we lose our sacrifice, Father will be displeased.”
“Hmm,” another voice joined the conversation. This voice was even and calm. It sounded as if it would remain the same if discussing the weather or impending death. However, the tone also conveyed such cool firmness that it revealed one would be wise to never anger them.
“Well, yes. We will need to keep a close eye on Edward Elric. We cannot have him meet his end before he has fulfilled his purpose. However, concerning the mission on which I sent him, as a confirmed sacrifice, his skill with alchemy is proof enough that he can handle most situations that may come his way. We do not need him interfering with our current plan, so I am ensuring he is kept busy.”
The disembodied voice grew darker, “And of Mustang?”
“He is an arrogant fool. We need to keep him busy as well. There are ways to make him bend to our will and control him with the useless emotions he keeps for those around him. Especially as he, too, has the potential to be a candidate for sacrifice.”
Once the calm voice stopped speaking, the darkness vanished, and the Fuhrer turned to look out the window at the world below, where a red jacket and a large suit of armor disappeared down the road.