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ArWen the Eternally Surprised
Author: Ria Time: 2007/11/22
Arwen encounters a strange monk and gains a little extra time.
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Shamballa - Part 3- The Philosopher's Stone
Submitter: Date: 2009/9/14 Views: 424
Encounter
It was night when Rick decided to return to his tent. He was a bit disappointed that he didn’t manage to pick anything of interest before giving up on his eavesdropping, but there was nothing for it; he was getting hungry and thirsty. He hoped Leo had cooked something for dinner so he could fill his stomach and then talk to the Gondorian. Perhaps he would let him ride Faenel again.

He was quite pleasantly surprised that Faenel was already outside his tent, grazing on a small patch of grass that she happened to find. And if she was there, then that meant Beregond was inside.

Still, that didn’t make much sense for a very good reason.

If Beregond was in, where was Leo? His brother wouldn’t have the man share the same space with him, after all.

As Rick soon discovered, he couldn’t be more wrong. Not only Beregond was inside the tent, but Leo was with him too, talking to him and showing him a book that the boys managed to salvage after their home was destroyed during the war.

Rick couldn’t help it; he smiled at the sight. And there he was, thinking that Leo hated foreigners! It turned out that his brother just needed a little nudge in the right direction. With that thought, Rick cleared his throat to announce his arrival.

Leo turned at the sound and his cheeks reddened when he realised who it was. Rick had to admit that there was something very satisfying when an older brother acted as though caught in the act by a younger sibling. And when he noticed Beregond smiling discreetly, it was obvious to Rick that the man was thinking of the same thing.

“I, uh… thought you wanted to listen to the elders’ council,” Leo said, trying to change the subject.

“I did, but they didn’t say anything interesting.” Rick said, sitting close to his brother. “I’m afraid some of them don’t trust you,” he added, looking in Beregond’s direction.

“After what happened with Scar, I don’t blame them,” Beregond said with a shake of his head.

Rick couldn’t help but feel his heart sinking at the mention of the name. Apparently, this didn’t escape Beregond’s attention, because, at the next moment, his expression became more light-hearted.

“By the way, Leo has been very kind to show me this,” he said, patting the hard cover of the book he was holding. “Did you know that the letters are identical to my own language?”

Rick was certainly surprised by this revelation. “Really?”

Leo nodded enthusiastically. “You should have seen him before. He managed to recognise several of the words – even translate a paragraph.”

“I just told you its basic meaning, and there were plenty of chances that I could have got it wrong. I’m far from understanding the Ishbalan tongue yet,” Beregond said with a chuckle. “I pieced together the words that happened to have a similar meaning in my own tongue, that’s all,” he explained modestly.

Nevertheless, Rick was impressed. “But that’s a start, right? If they let you have a look at the ancient writings, then…”

Faenel’s neigh made all three jump in alarm, because there was no mistaking that sound: she was frightened. They all rushed outside and they were shocked to see the mare rearing its hind legs, her large brown orbs widened in terror. Beregond acted at once, rushing at Faenel’s side.

“Sedho, Faenel. Avo’osto, im si.” (Be still, Faenel. Fear not, I’m here.)

Faenel neighed again, but she didn’t protest Beregond’s hand on her neck. Soon enough, Beregond’s petting seemed to register on her black skin, because she gradually calmed down until she was finally appeased.

“What was that about?” Leo said at that moment. “She acted as though someone was going to hurt her.”

Beregond didn’t face the children. He just looked in the darkness, hardly dispersed by the camp-fire nearby.

“Maybe someone was.”

“What do you mean? Who would want that?” Rick asked, not understanding.

Silence was the only answer he got.




Gluttony still stood by the shadows, wringing his thick fingers nervously. He knew that what he had done was very wrong, but the horse looked quite tasty and there was no Lust around to tell him that he shouldn’t eat it. But now he made the tall man aware that something was very wrong. Gluttony could easily see him standing by the horse and checking his surroundings in a suspicious manner.

“Lust won’t like this,” he murmured to himself. On the other hand, he didn’t leave his hiding place. Lust had told him that he should keep an eye on the Gondorian at all times while she spied on the Ishbalan elders, so that’s what he intended to do.

It looked like no real harm was done. After a few minutes, the man turned on his heel and prodded the two boys to follow him inside the tent again.

Maybe he could try to eat the horse again?

Gluttony placed a finger on his mouth, trying to think matters through. But that was quite difficult when Lust wasn’t around. She knew all the answers and she took care of him well.

So he decided to wait for her and ask her then. For now, he settled with pulling pieces of bark from a nearby tree and chewing them rather noisily. He had become so engrossed in that task that he was caught by surprise when a voice sounded behind him.

“I’ll only say this once: Turn around slowly. No funny business or I will hurt you.”

Gluttony turned around and came face to face with the point of a blade wielded by the Gondorian he was meant to spy on. He took a few steps back to put some distance between him and the sword.




Beregond wasn’t appeased in the least when he didn’t see anyone around that could have upset Faenel. After all, just because he couldn’t see anything, it didn’t mean that nothing was there. And there was Faenel’s behaviour to be considered. Beregond understood that it was too similar to Black Hayate’s back at Eastern Headquarters, and his instincts told him that that was hardly a coincidence.

And then Ed’s strange words echoed in his mind.

Did you notice anything strange around you? Like you were being watched?

Well, there was only one way to find out. He walked inside the tent with Leo and Rick closely behind and, as soon as he told the boys to remain inside the tent no matter what happened, he crawled out from the other side of the tent in search of anything out of the ordinary.

It didn’t take him long. After all, Beregond remembered Ed telling him about a strange man-like creature that looked like a ball balancing on short, thin legs; a creature called homunculus. And now, there he was, keeping the creature at blade-point and ready to fight if needed.

“Sharp,” Gluttony mumbled, pointing shyly at the sword.

“That’s right,” Beregond said, his eyes unwavering. “So if you don’t want to get cut, you had better tell me what you are doing here.”

The homunculus shook his head mournfully. “You weren’t supposed to see me. Lust said I should watch you from afar.”

So she’s here too? “Then next time steer clear from any animals that can sniff you out,” Beregond said sarcastically. “Were you spying on me in Eastern Headquarters, too?” he asked.

“No,” the homunculus said. “That was Envy.”

Beregond blinked at that answer, since he had expected a reply more to the likes of: I’d rather die before I say anything to you, bastard human!

“It’s… nice of you to be honest,” he finally said. “How long have you been following me?”

The homunculus hardly seemed to be paying attention to him anymore though. He was looking nervously in each direction and saying: “You have to leave. Lust will be angry if she sees you with me.”

Beregond raised an eyebrow at this. “You act as though Lust is your…”

Wait a minute. Beregond watched the homunculus for a few seconds more, and he had to admit that the creature was indeed acting like a child afraid of getting caught doing something bad. That meant that there was one other way that he could get out the truth from the homunculus’s lips.

“Listen. What’s your name?”

The homunculus looked at Beregond curiously through his beady little eyes before answering: “Gluttony.”

Beregond nodded and lowered his sword just a bit. He wanted to make himself less intimidating, but that didn’t mean he should put his guard down either.

“Well, Gluttony… Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll be gone before Lust sees me here.”

Gluttony didn’t answer at once. He scratched his head in indecision, he wrung his hands nervously; then finally answered: “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not leaving then. Your next option is to kill me.”

Now Gluttony was really torn. “Lust said I’m not supposed to eat alchemists with potential either.”

“Of course not,” Beregond said with a snort. Beregond knew that such alchemists, himself included, were perfect candidates for creating the philosopher’s stone. “We are useful, right?”

Gluttony nodded, but Beregond hardly paid heed to that as another thought crossed his mind. At first he thought that he was followed to the Ishbalan camp, but then he understood that this wasn’t so; it couldn’t be. Inhuman or not, the homunculi wouldn’t be able to track down a rider so quickly. That left only one other reason that the two homunculi would be here. They were looking for something else – or rather, someone else.

“We are useful… just like Scar,” he said, looking hard at Gluttony. “You came here so you could keep an eye on him.”

“That’s true, that was our first intent. But he was gone by the time we arrived here.”

Beregond turned around to see a darkly-clothed woman approach him gracefully. He raised an eyebrow as he scrutinised her violet, cat-like eyes; her full, red lips; her almost alabaster-coloured skin; her graceful pose; and last but not least, her tattoo of the ouroboros on her chest.

“I’ll take a wild shot in the dark and say you’re Lust,” the Gondorian said in a matter-of-fact tone. He brought himself to an angle from which he could look at both homunculi at once and so avoid any unwelcome surprises.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” the female homunculus said with a smile, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re quite the unpredictable element, Mr. Beregond. We believed that you would follow the Fullmetal boy and his brother on their quest.”

“It would be quite convenient for you, wouldn’t it?” Beregond said through gritted teeth. “What are you doing here?”

Lust smirked smugly. “You’re a clever man. You already suspect something, don’t you?”

Yes, Beregond did. He was hoping he was wrong, but Lust’s words didn’t leave any room for doubt.

“You’re looking for an opportunity to start another conflict, just like you tried back in Central. With that kind of chaos and the death toll rising, you’re hoping that an alchemist will take that unholy step and use all the victims to finally create the philosopher’s stone...” Beregond’s frown deepened. “Either driven by a desire to stop it… or gain further power.”

Lust nodded with an almost sweet smile. “That’s right.”

“Like spiders weaving a web. You make that web bigger with the passing of time in the certainty that some flies will fall into the trap.”

She just broadened her smile and let out a small chuckle. “We just give a small push to those who are willing to take that step and will fulfil not only their goals, but ours as well. There’s one now that is ready for that step. However,” and at that she elongated her nails, “I’ve overheard a foolish old man saying that you’re planning to prevent that.”

Beregond’s hands gripped the handle of his sword even more tightly, if that were possible. “And now I know why you decided to tell me all this.”

“That’s right,” she said. “It’s a pity really. She doesn’t want you dead, but I can’t just let you go when we’re so close and you’ve gotten yourself so deeply involved.”

It was then that she lunged two of her finger-nails, already aimed at the Gondorian’s heart.

They never hit their target. During that split second, Beregond used his alchemy to create a stone pillar right beneath his feet and thus catapult himself upwards and to the safety of a tree. She rushed forward and tried to stab him again, but he used the shadows to avoid her nails and quickly land behind Gluttony, who was watching the scene in puzzlement.

Not a moment too soon. Lust’s nails pierced through the make-shift shield Gluttony proved to be. That gave Beregond a few seconds more to swoosh his sword a few times and create a whirlwind surrounding the two homunculi. Taking advantage of their temporary blindness, he placed his left hand on the ground and performed yet another transmutation.

When the whirlwind finally subsided, both homunculi were pinned up against two rocky walls, their arms and legs safely buckled to their sides.

“I’m sorry,” Beregond said, standing up once more and panting heavily. “But I can’t just let you go either.” He turned to Lust, his expression almost angry. “You said she doesn’t want me dead. Is she the one you’re taking orders from?”

Lust said only one word.

“Gluttony.”

Her companion apparently knew what he was supposed to do, because he immediately spat at the rocky buckles on Lust’s wrists and ankles. They dissolved in seconds before Beregond had the time to alchemically neutralise the acid, and the Gondorian had to duck out of harm’s way to avoid Lust’s nails again. Strands of hair got cut off and fell on the ground as one of the nails got too close, but Beregond didn’t have the luxury to think about that. Moments later, he was back on his feet, ready for the next attack.

It never came. This time, Lust only used her claws to free Gluttony, something that made Beregond freeze.

His surprised expression as he watched the scene was apparently quite evident, for she chuckled.

“Don’t fool yourself, you didn’t win anything,” she said. “She would probably forgive me if I had killed you several days ago, but now that little… evolvement of yours complicates matters.” She crossed her arms and looked at Beregond with what could only be described as curiosity – and perhaps a bit of uncertainty. It was clear that she hadn’t expected that turn of events. “Congratulations. You just made yourself valuable again.”

Beregond didn’t really feel comforted by this. Mustering all his courage against such an evil that could only be compared to the Nazgűl, he set himself in defensive position again.

“I said it before: I can’t let you go.”

“Enough!”

Beregond and the homunculi turned at that voice at once, surprised by its commanding tone. It was too dark to see, but the Gondorian was almost certain that he could discern lots of forms coming towards them. His heart almost missed a beat, because he understood perfectly well who they were.

“Please, stay back!” he cried out to the approaching Ishbalans. “These creatures are dangerous!”

“It is she who should be afraid,” said the man who spoke before, now standing beside the old Ishbalan Beregond had befriended. Beregond could easily remember that man’s face from the last time he had been among the Ishbalans – his proud stance and powerful build wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten.

However, it was what he said next that caught the Gondorian’s undivided attention.

“Why do you have the face of a daughter of Ishbala, foul creature?”

“Daughter of…?!” Beregond gasped and quickly turned at the female homunculus.

She just looked at each and everyone incredulously, her eyes widened.

“This face is no one else’s but mine,” she said, yet her voice faltered. “You mistake me for someone else.”

The tall Ishbalan shook his head. “Perhaps I am. The girl I knew, the one whose face you carry now, had only kindness in her heart. She would never betray her own kin.” His countenance grew sterner as he kept regarding Lust bravely. “So why is an abomination like you insulting her memory in such a dishonourable way?”

Lust took a step back; she was now close to panicking, a thing that Beregond never thought possible. “You don’t know me!”

“No,” the tall Ishbalan said relentlessly. “But there was someone who knew your face.”

Beregond didn’t know what it was that got triggered within Lust’s mind, but she grabbed her head with both hands and started shouting at the man to stop. He, like every other Ishbalan that had now made their appearance, could only stare until her torment was over - until with one last hoarse cry, she collapsed on the ground, unconscious.

“Lust!” Gluttony exclaimed, quickly picking her in his arms. “Lust, wake up!”

She didn’t respond. And so, for the first time since their encounter, Beregond witnessed anger in those beady eyes.

“I hate you! You’ll pay for doing this to my Lust!”

Beregond got ready to fight at those words, but it turned out that it wasn’t necessary. Gluttony just turned away and, soon enough, he was swallowed by the darkness of the night.

Only then did Beregond finally let his sword hang loosely at his side, his fingers barely clutching the handle anymore. He could barely lift his left hand to wipe something that was trickling down his neck.

“Wait! Don’t touch it!”

Beregond stopped midway, unsure what to think of Rick’s reaction. He certainly didn’t understand why he was running towards him with some water and a towel.

That is, until he noticed his shirt was quickly getting covered with blood.

“What…?”

“Apparently, one of her claws got you while you were fighting,” the old Ishbalan explained. “Sit down for a moment while Rick tends to your injury.”

Beregond didn’t have much of a choice; he complied and settled on a piece of rock nearby. He heard Rick hiss at the sight of a long scratch on the side of the Gondorian’s neck.

“You are lucky,” the tall Ishbalan commented, scrutinising Beregond’s state. “A couple of inches to the right and you would be dead.”

“You still shouldn’t have come,” Beregond said. He clenched his jaw as the hot water-soaked towel made contact with his skin. “These things care for nothing but death.”

“And you? She was ready to kill you! She even said so!” Rick exclaimed. He gasped and placed a hand in his mouth at the next moment, but it was of no use. Beregond was already looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“So it was you who brought everyone – even though I told you to stay in the tent.”

Rick didn’t say anything this time. He just bowed his head to hide his blush of guilt.

“It is of no matter,” the Ishbalan said then. “The other elders and I were coming to see you anyway.”

Beregond felt himself tensing. “What is it?”

“You must come with us,” the old Ishbalan said. “So you better finish up with those bandages, Rick.”

Beregond understood. As soon as his neck was cleansed and wrapped in bandages, he rose to his feet and followed the two adult Ishbalans to the other side of the camp. Suddenly, the two Ishbalans stopped quite abruptly on their tracks.

“What you’re looking for is in there,” the tall Ishbalan said, motioning with his head to a tent that was separate from all the others. “Enter if you’re sure this is what you want.”

Beregond looked at the same direction. He suspected what he was shown and, because of that, he felt uneasy for more reasons than just the injury on his neck.

“Was Scar in there too?” he asked softly.

The two Ishbalans nodded slowly.

“Do you know what he found?” Beregond asked again.

There was silence for a while before the tall Ishbalan broke it.

“The answers you seek are in there. If you’re worthy, you’ll find them.”

“All we can do now is wish you good fortune,” the old Ishbalan said.

And with that, they were both gone, leaving Beregond alone with his thoughts.

The answers that I seek… Though the Ishbalan’s reply was cryptic, Beregond understood perfectly well what he meant by those words.

Scar had been in there, but the other Ishbalans couldn’t find it in their hearts to hand him over like that. Tainted or not, whether he was considered an outsider or not, it just wasn’t in the Ishbalan way to show such dishonour. They just showed Beregond the way, and it was now up to him to figure out the rest.

Perhaps it was some sort of final trial, one last test so that Beregond could prove his worth; Beregond wasn’t sure. Nevertheless, he would have to see through it. Matters had become too complicated to back away now.

It was with that thought that Beregond eventually walked inside the tent. But what he saw when he entered sent a chill in his heart.

The place was in a mess. There were chests wide-open, as well as books and papers scattered all over. And in the center of the tent, there was a huge illustration that Beregond knew only too well.

It was the array that symbolised the Philosopher’s Stone.

All Beregond’s hopes he was wrong about Scar… shattered.

TBC…
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