Departure
Edward sighed and opened his eyes slowly. The warmth of the sunrays that showered him dotingly had woken him up quite pleasantly, filling him with more energy than he had in a long time. He stretched with a smile, a purr of contentment escaping his lips, and then he sat up.
“Good morning, Brother.”
Ed’s smile broadened at seeing Al sitting close by. “’Morning. What’s the time?”
“It’s still early. I heard a grandfather clock chiming 7 o’ clock some time ago,” Alphonse answered.
Raising an eyebrow in mild surprise, Ed reached with his flesh hand for his watch on the nightstand. He whistled when he saw the time. “7.15. Do you think there’s anyone awake?”
“I don’t know,” Al said with a shrug.
“Damn it…”
“Brother?”
“I’m hungry,” Ed explained.
“Oh!” Al finally realised the nature of his brother’s predicament. “We could go to the kitchen on our own and try to make something.”
“Okay… Do you know where the kitchen is in this multi-floored Armstrong maze?”
“No… not really,” Al answered, scratching the back of his helmet embarrassedly.
Ed sighed. “Neither do I.” He got off the bed in order to get dressed. “Well, looks like we’ll have to search for it. Come on, Al.”
It turned out that the brothers didn’t have to do any searching after all, though. They came across one of the maids on their way downstairs and she informed them that breakfast was always served at 8 o’clock sharp, a habit passed down in this household for generations.
Of course, that also meant Ed would have to wait till eight for any kind of meal. His stomach demonstrated its dissatisfaction with a loud growl, but there was nothing for it. He sat on the stairs with a frown, trying to think of something to do and distract his mind.
“Hey, Brother! Come and look at this!”
Ed turned around. The suit of armour had gone all the way down the stairs and across the hall, and he was now looking inside a room. Feeling curious, Ed walked up to Al and got a peek also.
He caught himself gaping at the sight. Inside the room were bookcases upon bookcases, all of them filled with…
“Are those…?” he started, faltering significantly.
“Yeah,” Al breathed out his answer, his amazement quite clear in his voice.
At the next moment, the boys rushed in and tried fervently to decide which alchemy book they should check out first. But, because there were so many of the books and they could only afford that much time, they finally decided to close their eyes and let their hands pick one at random for them.
Both gauntlet and metal arm rested on the same book; a large, thick one with leather cover. That wasn’t what made the greatest impression on the boys though. It was the age of the book itself. The leather was enamelled at the sides with intricate golden patterns; its pages were yellowed, dog-eared and felt odd as Edward let his flesh fingers examine their texture. As for the writing itself, it was archaic. There was no mistaking the bold characters and stylish lettering.
“This is incredible!” Al said excitedly. “How old do you think it is?”
“I don’t know,” Ed answered, his eyes locked on it and still examining it with quite the scrutiny. “Still, it’s definitely old.” His gaze drifted to the title of the book, written in red. “The Mastery of Fire. Hmm… Looks like a book on Flame Alchemy to me.”
“Actually, no, Edward Elric. ‘Fire’ is an old name for alchemic power.”
Both boys jumped at the timber of Alex Armstrong’s voice sounding so close to them. “Major!”
Alex’s aura brightened as he smiled, and he walked up to the brothers. He too was fully dressed, apparently on his way to have some breakfast. “Mirabel told me you might be here. Do you like the library?”
Both Ed and Al nodded enthusiastically. “There are all sorts of books here that weren’t in any of the State Libraries we’ve visited,” Ed admitted. “Are they yours, Major?”
“Indeed, Fullmetal,” Alex said. He pointed at the book Ed was currently holding. “This book, in particular, has been with the Armstrong family for generations. It’s more than four hundred years old; one of the few to have survived that dark time, in fact.”
“Dark time?” Al asked.
Alex nodded gravely. “It was a time when alchemists were arguing amongst themselves about main principles on Alchemy. Little is known about it, but what is certain is that a lot of alchemists were condemned about their ideas and any knowledge that could have been preserved and treasured was lost forever.”
“What kind of ideas?” Ed asked curiously.
Alex crossed his arms and closed his eyes as he thought hard. “I can only tell you bits and pieces of it really, for it has been quite some time since I studied this. However, the basic idea is this: though it’s now established that alchemic power can be evoked by circles which represent its circulation, this kind of power is coming from the bowels of the earth, and it transforms the material world.
“These labelled heretics, on the other hand, took that principle even further. Without denying the alchemical fire of the material world, they also believed that an alchemist could also employ spiritual fire, whose source was the human soul. Consequently, a true alchemist could employ both kinds of power to transform the natural world.
“That’s an odd idea, considering no one knows for sure what the soul is exactly,” Ed said thoughtfully.
“And that was the basic argument of the opposing party,” Alex said with a nod. “For how can you use something when you don’t understand its nature first?”
“Still, it makes some sense,” Al said then. “Since the main material for a philosopher’s stone are human lives, there must be some truth behind this theory, isn’t there?”
“Indeed. But back then, young Elric, the world was different,” Alex replied. “Alchemy wasn’t as advanced as it is now, and such ideas were still considered sheer madness.”
“And those alchemists that supported them paid the price for it,” Ed said, sighing. “Does this book say anything further on this?”
Alex didn’t answer at once. He simply smiled enigmatically and took the book from Edward’s hands. The boys thought at first that that was the major’s way of saying that he had grown tired of their questions, but the burly man simply opened the book on a particular page and gave it back to them.
“Copy that excerpt in your journal. Work on it on your journey. If you manage to interpret it correctly, you will find your answer.” And with that, Alex turned on his heel and headed to the door. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” he added, and he was out of sight.
Ed and Al exchanged a puzzled look.
“What do you think he meant by that?” Ed asked.
“I guess that it’s a knowledge we should earn,” Al answered with a shrug. He looked at the book curiously. “What does the text say?”
“Let me see,” Ed said, and started reading aloud. “Take a sword in your hand, then seek the entrance, for narrow is the opening. A dragon lies at the entrance, guarding the temple. Lay hold upon him; immolate him; strip him of his skin, and taking his flesh with his bones, separate the limbs; then laying the limbs together with the bones at the entrance of the temple make a step of them, mount thereon, and enter, and you will find what you seek – the priest, that bronzen man who can become the silver man; and, if you will, you will soon have the golden man.”
“What do you suppose that means?”
“No idea,” Ed answered, shaking his head. “But I guess it’s important.” And so the young alchemist took out a pen and his journal out of his pocket and started copying everything.
When Ed and Al entered the kitchen, they were pleasantly surprised to see that Major Armstrong wasn’t the only person there. Havoc had woken up also, and even Hughes and Winry had arrived at the Armstrong mansion. As Maes reasoned, it would be best if they all departed for the station from one place.
“So are you guys packed?” Winry asked, watching the boys sitting at the table.
“Yup, all ready,” Al said.
“Or we will be as soon as Beregond wakes up,” Edward completed.
Havoc frowned slightly at this. “He’s still sleeping?”
Ed shrugged, while his hands reached for the delicacies on the table and putting them on his plate. “He isn’t here, so that’s the most logical explanation.”
Havoc nodded his understanding, yet his frowning expression remained. That was why Al finally decided to ask: “What’s wrong, Lieutenant?”
“I was just thinking,” Havoc said, pursing his lips slightly. He turned to face the two boys, eyeing them with a raised eyebrow. “Did you see him sleeping?”
Ed froze at the question, his toast held mere inches away from his mouth. But Al, apparently, understood, because his red flickers of eyes dimmed as he answered: “No.”
“What’s wrong?” Winry asked, her cobalt-eyes widened in mild concern.
Maes and Armstrong looked at the boys and Havoc with interest, the same question on their features, so Havoc was forced to speak his mind a bit more clearly.
“He has barely slept these past few days.”
“Well, that certainly explains why he looks like the dead,” Maes said. “However, that doesn’t mean anything. His weariness probably caught up with him.”
“Maybe,” Havoc said. But his tone showed that he was more hopeful than anything else.
“Let him rest while he can,” Alex said reassuringly. “There is a difficult journey ahead of you.”
“But what about breakfast?” Winry said wonderingly. “Won’t he be hungry on the train?”
Havoc, Ed and Al shook their heads in unison. “His stomach won’t stand any food,” Havoc said.
“We learnt that the hard way,” Ed said, shuddering a bit at the memory.
“Don’t tell me,” Maes said then. “He still hates trains?”
Seeming as though they had been practising this, Ed, Al and Havoc nodded in unison once more.
Armstrong clicked his tongue several times in disapproval. “This won’t do. He’s been in Amestris for ten months. He should be more acquainted with them by now.”
“Not really,” Winry said, looking hard at Ed’s direction. “I know someone who’s hated milk for the last sixteen years.”
“You just had to bring up milk in this conversation, didn’t you?” Ed muttered through gritted teeth.
“I’ll keep bringing it up until you finally get some sense and start drinking it!” Winry answered back.
“I hate what I hate, okay?” Ed snapped, his teeth now resembling fangs in his indignation.
“Don’t be selfish, Edward Elric!” Armstrong exclaimed.
“Yeah, Brother! You’re eating for two people, remember? How will I get taller if you don’t drink some milk?” Al said.
“Argh!” Ed finally cried out, that kind of siege proving too much. “You know what? I’ll just go check on Beregond.”
And with that, Ed practically rushed out of the room in order to get away from his terrible fate.
“Jeez, what the hell is wrong with them?” Ed said to no one in particular once he deemed that he was safe. “Stupid cow-juice…” He kicked at an invisible stone on the rich carpet, mentally cursing that foul drink whose only purpose seemed to be to make his life a misery. When he felt his frustration subsiding, Ed sighed.
“Well, I guess now I can really check on him.”
So, the young alchemist walked up the stairs and down the hallway to where Beregond’s room was.
But, when he reached the door and got ready to knock, the young alchemist hesitated. If Beregond was sleeping, Ed didn’t want to wake him up just yet – they had some time left before leaving for the train station.
On the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel curious now. And he’d rather be anywhere else than in the kitchen where disgust-in-a-glass was waiting for him.
Finally making up his mind, he placed his flesh fingers on the doorknob and turned it, waiting at any given moment to realise that the door was locked.
It wasn’t. At the next moment, the door had slid open quite inaudibly and Ed had walked in.
Ed took two steps inside, and then his ears picked up the sound of sheets rustling. The boy instinctively grew perfectly still, but it was too late. His eyes had by now adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room, and Ed could clearly see the Gondorian’s form sitting up, the familiar green-hazel eyes locking on him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up!” Ed said quickly, tensing instinctively.
“You didn’t.”
Ed blinked, mildly surprised at the Gondorian’s soft tone.
I didn’t wake him up?
So his weariness didn’t catch up with him yet.
“Is it time for us to go?” Beregond’s voice cut into Ed’s train of thought.
“No,” the boy said at once. Deciding that there might as well be some light in the room, he walked to the window and opened the shutters. As soon as the sunlight rushed in, Beregond covered his eyes with a small grunt, giving the chance to Ed to study the man further.
If Beregond looked like the dead the previous night, now he resembled a ghost. The colour on his face almost matched the colour of the sheets.
Ed winced mentally. “How come you didn’t come down?” he asked unusually softly, settling on the bedside.
Beregond shrugged. “I suppose I wanted to have some time on my own.”
Ed tilted his head, eyeing the man curiously. “Why?”
“To think of some things.”
That made Ed sigh. “There’s daytime for that, you know.”
Beregond’s lips tugged to a half-smile. “I’ll remember that next time.”
Ed meant to reply to that, but he never had the chance. Winry walked in, carrying the glass of milk and a very annoyed look in her eyes.
“If you think you can get away by sitting here all day, think again,” she declared. She placed the glass on the nightstand, not paying attention to Ed’s revolted expression. “When you come out, this had better be empty. And don’t you dare throw it in a pot or out the window; Beregond will be witness.”
And with that, she was out again, leaving a very sickened Ed and a very intrigued Beregond behind. Neither man nor boy spoke for some time, trying to process what had just happened.
“You hate milk?”
Beregond’s tone was surprised – even amused.
“Please, don’t you start with that!” Ed bowed his head, feeling a single drop of sweat near his temple. A light-hearted chuckle reached the young alchemist’s ears, and he couldn’t help but blush furiously in embarrassment at his childishness. He couldn’t help it though.
And when Beregond prodded him to look up and he saw the man holding the glass, he couldn’t help but scowl.
“Are you really going to make me drink it?”
Beregond shook his head, still smiling. “It isn’t in my place to force you. But I think I can tell you a little story if you want me to.”
Ed’s annoyance vanished to be replaced by intrigue. “Okay… Sure.”
“He’s not gonna drink it,” Havoc said.
“He’d better drink it,” Winry retorted, the wrench already in her hands.
“Winry, please don’t hit him too hard,” Al pleaded. “He’s the only brother I’ve got.”
“Wait,” Maes said then. “I think I can hear footsteps coming in this direction.”
Everybody pricked up their listen. Sure enough, Ed came rushing into the kitchen, his eyes scanning the table. When he located what he wanted, he turned to the others, a surprisingly exuberant look on his features.
“Have you guys finished breakfast?”
Armstrong nodded, his whole countenance beaming. “Indeed, Edward.”
“So you won’t need the jug with the milk anymore?”
Everyone exchanged a bemused look. “No,” Al finally answered.
“Great!” Suddenly, Ed grabbed the jug and hurried upstairs, shouting: “Hey, Beregond! I’ve got more!”
The stunned silence that reigned in the kitchen after that display lasted for quite a while. And when everyone’s ability to speak finally returned, they could only utter one question.
“How did that happen?”
Wishing to find out, Al walked up the stairs, only to come face to face with the Gondorian at the hallway.
“What did you do?” he asked Beregond.
Beregond grinned. “Just a little trick I happen to know,” he replied. “When do we have to be at the station?”
Al made a small noise in thought and then answered: “About 9.30.”
“Give me twenty minutes,” Beregond said, and then vanished into the bathroom with a towel and a razor in his hands, leaving a very confused Alphonse behind.
“Hi, Al.”
Alphonse turned around, just in time to catch sight of Edward going down the stairs and now holding an empty jug.
If the suit of armour could, he would have blinked his bewilderment.
“How…?”
At 9.20, the Central Station was already bustling with life, filled with people who were ready to depart for their own destination. But it seemed that one certain group, consisted mainly of soldiers of the State, was particularly vocal.
“Do you want me to carry your bags for you, children?”
“We aren’t children!”
“Brother, be more polite!”
“On which platform should you be again?”
“Platform 2.”
“Hurry up, guys! There’s a surprise waiting for you there.”
“Surprise?”
A very pleasant surprise, as it turned out. Because when they arrived at the platform, the boys, Beregond and Winry were delighted to see that some other acquaintances had come to see them off.
“You’re right on time,” Second Lieutenant Ross commented, a broad smile on her face.
“Did you doubt it?” Sergeant Bloch said, smiling just as broadly. “The Major would make sure they arrived on time.”
“The Major and my husband both,” Gracia completed, holding Elysia in her arms.
The four companions couldn’t help it. They gaped in disbelief. Ed was the first to come round from his startled stupor, and he pointed at Hughes. “Did you do this?”
Maes chuckled. “I know you aren’t fond of big goodbyes, but I thought you should make an exception this time.” He paused to wink in Havoc’s direction. “I would have brought more, but she had to go through some files with my secretary. Sorry.”
“W-why are you telling me that?” Havoc said, trying to keep his tone neutral and failing miserably.
“Because he isn’t blind,” Beregond murmured near Havoc’s ear in a teasing tone, and patted the lieutenant’s shoulder.
That made Havoc blush furiously. Thankfully, everyone else seemed too busy exchanging goodbyes to pick up that reaction.
However, Havoc himself managed to pick up someone else’s odd behaviour.
Truth be told, it wasn’t that obvious. To everyone else, Beregond probably seemed to be acting normally, despite the fact that he was tired. But for some reason that Havoc couldn’t precisely place, he knew that the Gondorian was troubled, even anxious, over something.
The sound of the piercing whistle of the train cut Havoc violently off his thoughts.
“Time for you to go.”
“Stay safe.”
“And come back soon.”
“We will. Thank you all for everything.” And with that, Ed, Al, and Winry got on board.
On the other hand, Beregond hesitated. And what everyone else probably interpreted as hesitation to enter the train, Havoc knew that it was Beregond’s despair-filled attempt to make up his mind over that same something that was tearing him inside.
At the second whistle, Beregond had reached his decision. Turning on his heel, he wrapped his arms around the closest person’s neck at the time – Havoc’s.
Everyone else probably thought that the Gondorian wanted to say goodbye to a good companion.
But Havoc heard the urgent whisper and everything finally fell into place.
Still, he didn’t find the time to say anything, because it was then that the third whistle blew and Beregond sprang aboard. And so, as the train started moving forward, all Havoc could do was follow the others’ example and keep waving back to the departing travellers until the train was gone into the horizon.
“And so we part,” Armstrong said, sighing. None attempted to comment on the streams of tears that were rapidly flowing down his face.
“Yeah,” Maes replied, and he turned to Gracia to kiss her lightly on the cheek. “I’ll take you home.”
“Daddy, will Winry come back?”
“Of course she will,” Maes said, tapping his daughter’s nose playfully.
“Sir,” Ross said then, saluting. “Allow Sergeant Bloch and me to return to our duties back at Headquarters.”
“That won’t be necessary; I will take you there,” Alex said, his shiny countenance visible once more. “Will you come as well, Lieutenant Havoc?”
Havoc declined politely. He wanted to remain alone with his thoughts for a while, though he didn’t say that to the Major. He merely said that he wanted to take a stroll around Central, a wish that wasn’t denied by the others. Soon enough, Havoc was out of the station, nodding goodbye and walking away, hands in his pockets and Beregond’s voice echoing in his mind.
Bradley is Dûrinas.
“What were you trying to tell me?” he murmured to himself.
Little did Havoc know that his every move was being watched. And he was certainly caught by surprise when, just when he was about to walk across another street, a strong hand made him turn around.
When he came face to face with himself, however, numbing shock overwhelmed him and he could only stare incredulously.
No… not himself.
The colour of the eyes was wrong.
“Surprised, Lieutenant?”
TBC…
“Good morning, Brother.”
Ed’s smile broadened at seeing Al sitting close by. “’Morning. What’s the time?”
“It’s still early. I heard a grandfather clock chiming 7 o’ clock some time ago,” Alphonse answered.
Raising an eyebrow in mild surprise, Ed reached with his flesh hand for his watch on the nightstand. He whistled when he saw the time. “7.15. Do you think there’s anyone awake?”
“I don’t know,” Al said with a shrug.
“Damn it…”
“Brother?”
“I’m hungry,” Ed explained.
“Oh!” Al finally realised the nature of his brother’s predicament. “We could go to the kitchen on our own and try to make something.”
“Okay… Do you know where the kitchen is in this multi-floored Armstrong maze?”
“No… not really,” Al answered, scratching the back of his helmet embarrassedly.
Ed sighed. “Neither do I.” He got off the bed in order to get dressed. “Well, looks like we’ll have to search for it. Come on, Al.”
It turned out that the brothers didn’t have to do any searching after all, though. They came across one of the maids on their way downstairs and she informed them that breakfast was always served at 8 o’clock sharp, a habit passed down in this household for generations.
Of course, that also meant Ed would have to wait till eight for any kind of meal. His stomach demonstrated its dissatisfaction with a loud growl, but there was nothing for it. He sat on the stairs with a frown, trying to think of something to do and distract his mind.
“Hey, Brother! Come and look at this!”
Ed turned around. The suit of armour had gone all the way down the stairs and across the hall, and he was now looking inside a room. Feeling curious, Ed walked up to Al and got a peek also.
He caught himself gaping at the sight. Inside the room were bookcases upon bookcases, all of them filled with…
“Are those…?” he started, faltering significantly.
“Yeah,” Al breathed out his answer, his amazement quite clear in his voice.
At the next moment, the boys rushed in and tried fervently to decide which alchemy book they should check out first. But, because there were so many of the books and they could only afford that much time, they finally decided to close their eyes and let their hands pick one at random for them.
Both gauntlet and metal arm rested on the same book; a large, thick one with leather cover. That wasn’t what made the greatest impression on the boys though. It was the age of the book itself. The leather was enamelled at the sides with intricate golden patterns; its pages were yellowed, dog-eared and felt odd as Edward let his flesh fingers examine their texture. As for the writing itself, it was archaic. There was no mistaking the bold characters and stylish lettering.
“This is incredible!” Al said excitedly. “How old do you think it is?”
“I don’t know,” Ed answered, his eyes locked on it and still examining it with quite the scrutiny. “Still, it’s definitely old.” His gaze drifted to the title of the book, written in red. “The Mastery of Fire. Hmm… Looks like a book on Flame Alchemy to me.”
“Actually, no, Edward Elric. ‘Fire’ is an old name for alchemic power.”
Both boys jumped at the timber of Alex Armstrong’s voice sounding so close to them. “Major!”
Alex’s aura brightened as he smiled, and he walked up to the brothers. He too was fully dressed, apparently on his way to have some breakfast. “Mirabel told me you might be here. Do you like the library?”
Both Ed and Al nodded enthusiastically. “There are all sorts of books here that weren’t in any of the State Libraries we’ve visited,” Ed admitted. “Are they yours, Major?”
“Indeed, Fullmetal,” Alex said. He pointed at the book Ed was currently holding. “This book, in particular, has been with the Armstrong family for generations. It’s more than four hundred years old; one of the few to have survived that dark time, in fact.”
“Dark time?” Al asked.
Alex nodded gravely. “It was a time when alchemists were arguing amongst themselves about main principles on Alchemy. Little is known about it, but what is certain is that a lot of alchemists were condemned about their ideas and any knowledge that could have been preserved and treasured was lost forever.”
“What kind of ideas?” Ed asked curiously.
Alex crossed his arms and closed his eyes as he thought hard. “I can only tell you bits and pieces of it really, for it has been quite some time since I studied this. However, the basic idea is this: though it’s now established that alchemic power can be evoked by circles which represent its circulation, this kind of power is coming from the bowels of the earth, and it transforms the material world.
“These labelled heretics, on the other hand, took that principle even further. Without denying the alchemical fire of the material world, they also believed that an alchemist could also employ spiritual fire, whose source was the human soul. Consequently, a true alchemist could employ both kinds of power to transform the natural world.
“That’s an odd idea, considering no one knows for sure what the soul is exactly,” Ed said thoughtfully.
“And that was the basic argument of the opposing party,” Alex said with a nod. “For how can you use something when you don’t understand its nature first?”
“Still, it makes some sense,” Al said then. “Since the main material for a philosopher’s stone are human lives, there must be some truth behind this theory, isn’t there?”
“Indeed. But back then, young Elric, the world was different,” Alex replied. “Alchemy wasn’t as advanced as it is now, and such ideas were still considered sheer madness.”
“And those alchemists that supported them paid the price for it,” Ed said, sighing. “Does this book say anything further on this?”
Alex didn’t answer at once. He simply smiled enigmatically and took the book from Edward’s hands. The boys thought at first that that was the major’s way of saying that he had grown tired of their questions, but the burly man simply opened the book on a particular page and gave it back to them.
“Copy that excerpt in your journal. Work on it on your journey. If you manage to interpret it correctly, you will find your answer.” And with that, Alex turned on his heel and headed to the door. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” he added, and he was out of sight.
Ed and Al exchanged a puzzled look.
“What do you think he meant by that?” Ed asked.
“I guess that it’s a knowledge we should earn,” Al answered with a shrug. He looked at the book curiously. “What does the text say?”
“Let me see,” Ed said, and started reading aloud. “Take a sword in your hand, then seek the entrance, for narrow is the opening. A dragon lies at the entrance, guarding the temple. Lay hold upon him; immolate him; strip him of his skin, and taking his flesh with his bones, separate the limbs; then laying the limbs together with the bones at the entrance of the temple make a step of them, mount thereon, and enter, and you will find what you seek – the priest, that bronzen man who can become the silver man; and, if you will, you will soon have the golden man.”
“What do you suppose that means?”
“No idea,” Ed answered, shaking his head. “But I guess it’s important.” And so the young alchemist took out a pen and his journal out of his pocket and started copying everything.
When Ed and Al entered the kitchen, they were pleasantly surprised to see that Major Armstrong wasn’t the only person there. Havoc had woken up also, and even Hughes and Winry had arrived at the Armstrong mansion. As Maes reasoned, it would be best if they all departed for the station from one place.
“So are you guys packed?” Winry asked, watching the boys sitting at the table.
“Yup, all ready,” Al said.
“Or we will be as soon as Beregond wakes up,” Edward completed.
Havoc frowned slightly at this. “He’s still sleeping?”
Ed shrugged, while his hands reached for the delicacies on the table and putting them on his plate. “He isn’t here, so that’s the most logical explanation.”
Havoc nodded his understanding, yet his frowning expression remained. That was why Al finally decided to ask: “What’s wrong, Lieutenant?”
“I was just thinking,” Havoc said, pursing his lips slightly. He turned to face the two boys, eyeing them with a raised eyebrow. “Did you see him sleeping?”
Ed froze at the question, his toast held mere inches away from his mouth. But Al, apparently, understood, because his red flickers of eyes dimmed as he answered: “No.”
“What’s wrong?” Winry asked, her cobalt-eyes widened in mild concern.
Maes and Armstrong looked at the boys and Havoc with interest, the same question on their features, so Havoc was forced to speak his mind a bit more clearly.
“He has barely slept these past few days.”
“Well, that certainly explains why he looks like the dead,” Maes said. “However, that doesn’t mean anything. His weariness probably caught up with him.”
“Maybe,” Havoc said. But his tone showed that he was more hopeful than anything else.
“Let him rest while he can,” Alex said reassuringly. “There is a difficult journey ahead of you.”
“But what about breakfast?” Winry said wonderingly. “Won’t he be hungry on the train?”
Havoc, Ed and Al shook their heads in unison. “His stomach won’t stand any food,” Havoc said.
“We learnt that the hard way,” Ed said, shuddering a bit at the memory.
“Don’t tell me,” Maes said then. “He still hates trains?”
Seeming as though they had been practising this, Ed, Al and Havoc nodded in unison once more.
Armstrong clicked his tongue several times in disapproval. “This won’t do. He’s been in Amestris for ten months. He should be more acquainted with them by now.”
“Not really,” Winry said, looking hard at Ed’s direction. “I know someone who’s hated milk for the last sixteen years.”
“You just had to bring up milk in this conversation, didn’t you?” Ed muttered through gritted teeth.
“I’ll keep bringing it up until you finally get some sense and start drinking it!” Winry answered back.
“I hate what I hate, okay?” Ed snapped, his teeth now resembling fangs in his indignation.
“Don’t be selfish, Edward Elric!” Armstrong exclaimed.
“Yeah, Brother! You’re eating for two people, remember? How will I get taller if you don’t drink some milk?” Al said.
“Argh!” Ed finally cried out, that kind of siege proving too much. “You know what? I’ll just go check on Beregond.”
And with that, Ed practically rushed out of the room in order to get away from his terrible fate.
“Jeez, what the hell is wrong with them?” Ed said to no one in particular once he deemed that he was safe. “Stupid cow-juice…” He kicked at an invisible stone on the rich carpet, mentally cursing that foul drink whose only purpose seemed to be to make his life a misery. When he felt his frustration subsiding, Ed sighed.
“Well, I guess now I can really check on him.”
So, the young alchemist walked up the stairs and down the hallway to where Beregond’s room was.
But, when he reached the door and got ready to knock, the young alchemist hesitated. If Beregond was sleeping, Ed didn’t want to wake him up just yet – they had some time left before leaving for the train station.
On the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel curious now. And he’d rather be anywhere else than in the kitchen where disgust-in-a-glass was waiting for him.
Finally making up his mind, he placed his flesh fingers on the doorknob and turned it, waiting at any given moment to realise that the door was locked.
It wasn’t. At the next moment, the door had slid open quite inaudibly and Ed had walked in.
Ed took two steps inside, and then his ears picked up the sound of sheets rustling. The boy instinctively grew perfectly still, but it was too late. His eyes had by now adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room, and Ed could clearly see the Gondorian’s form sitting up, the familiar green-hazel eyes locking on him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up!” Ed said quickly, tensing instinctively.
“You didn’t.”
Ed blinked, mildly surprised at the Gondorian’s soft tone.
I didn’t wake him up?
So his weariness didn’t catch up with him yet.
“Is it time for us to go?” Beregond’s voice cut into Ed’s train of thought.
“No,” the boy said at once. Deciding that there might as well be some light in the room, he walked to the window and opened the shutters. As soon as the sunlight rushed in, Beregond covered his eyes with a small grunt, giving the chance to Ed to study the man further.
If Beregond looked like the dead the previous night, now he resembled a ghost. The colour on his face almost matched the colour of the sheets.
Ed winced mentally. “How come you didn’t come down?” he asked unusually softly, settling on the bedside.
Beregond shrugged. “I suppose I wanted to have some time on my own.”
Ed tilted his head, eyeing the man curiously. “Why?”
“To think of some things.”
That made Ed sigh. “There’s daytime for that, you know.”
Beregond’s lips tugged to a half-smile. “I’ll remember that next time.”
Ed meant to reply to that, but he never had the chance. Winry walked in, carrying the glass of milk and a very annoyed look in her eyes.
“If you think you can get away by sitting here all day, think again,” she declared. She placed the glass on the nightstand, not paying attention to Ed’s revolted expression. “When you come out, this had better be empty. And don’t you dare throw it in a pot or out the window; Beregond will be witness.”
And with that, she was out again, leaving a very sickened Ed and a very intrigued Beregond behind. Neither man nor boy spoke for some time, trying to process what had just happened.
“You hate milk?”
Beregond’s tone was surprised – even amused.
“Please, don’t you start with that!” Ed bowed his head, feeling a single drop of sweat near his temple. A light-hearted chuckle reached the young alchemist’s ears, and he couldn’t help but blush furiously in embarrassment at his childishness. He couldn’t help it though.
And when Beregond prodded him to look up and he saw the man holding the glass, he couldn’t help but scowl.
“Are you really going to make me drink it?”
Beregond shook his head, still smiling. “It isn’t in my place to force you. But I think I can tell you a little story if you want me to.”
Ed’s annoyance vanished to be replaced by intrigue. “Okay… Sure.”
“He’s not gonna drink it,” Havoc said.
“He’d better drink it,” Winry retorted, the wrench already in her hands.
“Winry, please don’t hit him too hard,” Al pleaded. “He’s the only brother I’ve got.”
“Wait,” Maes said then. “I think I can hear footsteps coming in this direction.”
Everybody pricked up their listen. Sure enough, Ed came rushing into the kitchen, his eyes scanning the table. When he located what he wanted, he turned to the others, a surprisingly exuberant look on his features.
“Have you guys finished breakfast?”
Armstrong nodded, his whole countenance beaming. “Indeed, Edward.”
“So you won’t need the jug with the milk anymore?”
Everyone exchanged a bemused look. “No,” Al finally answered.
“Great!” Suddenly, Ed grabbed the jug and hurried upstairs, shouting: “Hey, Beregond! I’ve got more!”
The stunned silence that reigned in the kitchen after that display lasted for quite a while. And when everyone’s ability to speak finally returned, they could only utter one question.
“How did that happen?”
Wishing to find out, Al walked up the stairs, only to come face to face with the Gondorian at the hallway.
“What did you do?” he asked Beregond.
Beregond grinned. “Just a little trick I happen to know,” he replied. “When do we have to be at the station?”
Al made a small noise in thought and then answered: “About 9.30.”
“Give me twenty minutes,” Beregond said, and then vanished into the bathroom with a towel and a razor in his hands, leaving a very confused Alphonse behind.
“Hi, Al.”
Alphonse turned around, just in time to catch sight of Edward going down the stairs and now holding an empty jug.
If the suit of armour could, he would have blinked his bewilderment.
“How…?”
At 9.20, the Central Station was already bustling with life, filled with people who were ready to depart for their own destination. But it seemed that one certain group, consisted mainly of soldiers of the State, was particularly vocal.
“Do you want me to carry your bags for you, children?”
“We aren’t children!”
“Brother, be more polite!”
“On which platform should you be again?”
“Platform 2.”
“Hurry up, guys! There’s a surprise waiting for you there.”
“Surprise?”
A very pleasant surprise, as it turned out. Because when they arrived at the platform, the boys, Beregond and Winry were delighted to see that some other acquaintances had come to see them off.
“You’re right on time,” Second Lieutenant Ross commented, a broad smile on her face.
“Did you doubt it?” Sergeant Bloch said, smiling just as broadly. “The Major would make sure they arrived on time.”
“The Major and my husband both,” Gracia completed, holding Elysia in her arms.
The four companions couldn’t help it. They gaped in disbelief. Ed was the first to come round from his startled stupor, and he pointed at Hughes. “Did you do this?”
Maes chuckled. “I know you aren’t fond of big goodbyes, but I thought you should make an exception this time.” He paused to wink in Havoc’s direction. “I would have brought more, but she had to go through some files with my secretary. Sorry.”
“W-why are you telling me that?” Havoc said, trying to keep his tone neutral and failing miserably.
“Because he isn’t blind,” Beregond murmured near Havoc’s ear in a teasing tone, and patted the lieutenant’s shoulder.
That made Havoc blush furiously. Thankfully, everyone else seemed too busy exchanging goodbyes to pick up that reaction.
However, Havoc himself managed to pick up someone else’s odd behaviour.
Truth be told, it wasn’t that obvious. To everyone else, Beregond probably seemed to be acting normally, despite the fact that he was tired. But for some reason that Havoc couldn’t precisely place, he knew that the Gondorian was troubled, even anxious, over something.
The sound of the piercing whistle of the train cut Havoc violently off his thoughts.
“Time for you to go.”
“Stay safe.”
“And come back soon.”
“We will. Thank you all for everything.” And with that, Ed, Al, and Winry got on board.
On the other hand, Beregond hesitated. And what everyone else probably interpreted as hesitation to enter the train, Havoc knew that it was Beregond’s despair-filled attempt to make up his mind over that same something that was tearing him inside.
At the second whistle, Beregond had reached his decision. Turning on his heel, he wrapped his arms around the closest person’s neck at the time – Havoc’s.
Everyone else probably thought that the Gondorian wanted to say goodbye to a good companion.
But Havoc heard the urgent whisper and everything finally fell into place.
Still, he didn’t find the time to say anything, because it was then that the third whistle blew and Beregond sprang aboard. And so, as the train started moving forward, all Havoc could do was follow the others’ example and keep waving back to the departing travellers until the train was gone into the horizon.
“And so we part,” Armstrong said, sighing. None attempted to comment on the streams of tears that were rapidly flowing down his face.
“Yeah,” Maes replied, and he turned to Gracia to kiss her lightly on the cheek. “I’ll take you home.”
“Daddy, will Winry come back?”
“Of course she will,” Maes said, tapping his daughter’s nose playfully.
“Sir,” Ross said then, saluting. “Allow Sergeant Bloch and me to return to our duties back at Headquarters.”
“That won’t be necessary; I will take you there,” Alex said, his shiny countenance visible once more. “Will you come as well, Lieutenant Havoc?”
Havoc declined politely. He wanted to remain alone with his thoughts for a while, though he didn’t say that to the Major. He merely said that he wanted to take a stroll around Central, a wish that wasn’t denied by the others. Soon enough, Havoc was out of the station, nodding goodbye and walking away, hands in his pockets and Beregond’s voice echoing in his mind.
Bradley is Dûrinas.
“What were you trying to tell me?” he murmured to himself.
Little did Havoc know that his every move was being watched. And he was certainly caught by surprise when, just when he was about to walk across another street, a strong hand made him turn around.
When he came face to face with himself, however, numbing shock overwhelmed him and he could only stare incredulously.
No… not himself.
The colour of the eyes was wrong.
“Surprised, Lieutenant?”
TBC…
Subtitles
- Brother's Debt
- Fullmetal Body, Fullmetal Heart
- A Quiet Day
- In The Night
- Two Men's Faces
- Transfer
- Making Plans
- Shadows Of The Past
- Underworld
- The Price Of Immortality
- Departure
- The Key
- Enemy Revealed
- A Step Back
- A Step Closer To The Truth
- A Race
- Rush Valley
- Responsibility
- Izumi
- Time To Stand Still
- Wild Child
- Encounter
- Riddles In The Dark
- In Search For Answers
- A Teacher's Mistakes
- Complications
- Visits
- The Nature Of A Homunculus
- Dante Of The Deep Forest
- Kidnapped
- Fight At The Devil's Nest
- Innocence Lost
- Blood Spilt
- Recovering
- Bearers Of Ill News
- The Flame Alchemist
- True Colours
- Markings On The Ground
- The Mission
- Heading To Liore
- Change Of Plans
- The Scar
- Holy Mother
- A Mother's Face
- Final Moments