Epilogue
1st May, 1916
Dear Winry,
Today I got the best news of my life. Vato has asked me to officially become his girlfriend. You should have seen him trying to mumble out the words while I was trying to figure out what he wanted to say. I even thought for a moment that he meant to break up with me and I was this close to bursting into tears. Thankfully, he finally sorted everything out before things got too much out of hands; that would have been embarrassing.
Needless to say that the first one who heard the news was Brigadier General Hughes. And, of course, he was the first one to declare that Elysia should be the flower girl to our wedding. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that, if it took Vato and I over a year to finally become an item, he shouldn’t be expecting any more weddings soon. Sarah and Mr. Havoc’s was enough, for the moment.
Then again, maybe that wouldn’t have stopped Mr. Hughes. You know how obsessed he’s become with getting General Mustang and Riza married, no matter how many the general threatens to roast him alive.
You should come over to Central some time. You won’t believe the changes that they have done around here. The place seems a lot friendlier somehow, less stiff and formal. Democracy seems to have finally settled for good, just like General Mustang had wanted. More importantly, you can feel you’re surrounded by good people in Headquarters. I even keep in touch with 1st Lieutenant Breda and 2nd Lieutenant Fuery, even though their jobs can be a handful, as both of them like to say.
Well, that’s it for now from this part of the world. How are things in Resembool? More importantly, how are things between you and Al? Has he finally moved in with you?
Keep in touch,
Scieszka.
5th May, 1916
Dear Scieszka,
I was so glad to hear from you after all this time, even more so when I read that things with you and Vato are finally official. Congratulations, he’s a good man. I’m sure he’ll make you happy.
Life in Resembool is – and always will be, I guess – quiet. Of course, there was a lot of buzz when it got around that Al and I were together, and that he even moved in with me (so, yes, things with Al have been going really well). That buzz died down soon, however, when they saw the man who accompanied Ed and Al. Some of the elders insisted that they had seen Beregond’s face somewhere before, but Ed was pretty quick to say that he was an uncle they had come across during their travels. I guess it’s not all that far away from the truth, is it? It even saved them the trouble from having to answer too many questions. As Ed reasoned, the less people know about Beregond, the better.
At times like these, I want to tease both Ed and Al and say that they’re acting like overprotective parents. I can’t say I blame them, though; they’ve grown really attached to him. And, of course, Beregond loves them back, still helping them every step of the way. He’s even helped them rebuild their old house, and he’s been sharing the place with Ed since then. Somehow, I don’t think Ed would want it any other way. After wandering for so long, they’ve finally found the measure of peace they’ve been looking for. That’s what Beregond says anyway; I was never as good at words as he is. And to think that Amestrian isn’t his first language!
Tell the others I said ‘Hi”, and I promise I’ll visit Central at the first chance. I want to check out the new automail trends, after all!
Till next time,
Winry
10th May, 1916
When Ed came this morning and said that he wanted to talk to me in private, I have to admit that I was worried at first; I thought something was wrong with Beregond. I guess it’s a bit paranoid of me after all this time, but I can’t help it. We don’t know what he gave up so we could get our bodies and, though he seems fine, I still wait for the time that his sacrifice is going to catch up with him.
I guess Beregond must realise it, too. Even since he came out of the coma, he’s been keeping himself busy, corresponding with Professor Syndow and telling him stories of Middle-earth. I suspect it was something that he owed to his people – to never be forgotten. Because then they’ll never be really gone. They will just live on forever as myths and legends.
For the time being though, this story has finally reached its end. That’s what Ed declared as he handed me his journal, insisting that I should be the one to write its epilogue. As far as he is concerned, he is done with that chapter of his life. I can’t agree more to that.
It’s intriguing how Ed started this journal. ‘Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy’s first Law of Equivalent Exchange.’ That quote guided us throughout our lives, for we believed it was the world’s one, and only, truth. The truth is, though, that the world isn’t perfect and the law is incomplete. Equivalent Exchange doesn’t encompass everything that goes on here. But I still choose to believe in its principle: that all things do come at a price. That there's an ebb and a flow, a cycle. That the pain we went through did have a reward and that anyone who's determined and perseveres will get something of value in return, even if it's not what they expected. I don't think of Equivalent Exchange as a law of the world anymore. I think of it as a promise between my brother, myself and Beregond - a promise that we'll stay together, no matter what.
Ed still sat on the stairs of the porch, his gaze locked on the stars high above. It was a quiet and warm night for this time of year, so he could stay outside without having to wear his overcoat. He didn’t feel like getting up and retrieving it from his room anyway; it seemed too much of a bother.
“Ed?” Beregond’s voice sounded from behind him, along with the familiar footsteps coming closer. “Something wrong?”
Ed faced Beregond. The man was dressed quite lightly, the top buttons of his shirt open and a pair of bracers holding his trousers. His posture was quite relaxed too, but his eyes reflected his mild concern.
“Should there be anything wrong?” Ed asked, puzzled.
“You tell me,” the Gondorian answered, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve called you three times before I decided to start looking for you.”
“Oh,” Ed said. He scratched his head in an embarrassed manner. “Sorry.”
“That’s fine,” Beregond said, waving his hand dismissively. “Just let me know when you decide to daydream about… Sophie, was it?”
“Gah, let it go, will you?” Ed exclaimed. “I only met her a couple of times.”
“True,” Beregond said but, at the next moment, he sat next to Ed, regarding him teasingly from the corner of his eye. “I bet you want to meet her again, though.”
“Shut up,” Ed said, cuffing Beregond’s arm in playful warning. “You know I hate it when you’re right.”
“My apologies, I’ll try to be wrong next time,” the Gondorian said, rubbing his arm. Nevertheless, he nudged the young man. “Joke aside, I’m really happy for you.”
“Nothing happened yet, so hold your horses,” Ed pointed out before lifting his gaze back to the sky above. “The stars are really bright tonight.”
The Gondorian looked up as well, and a small sigh flowed out of his lips. “Yeah,” he said, and he pointed to a cluster of seven stars. “There’s Menelvagor.”
“And there’s the Sickle of the Valar,” Ed said, pointing to another cluster. He smirked a bit when Beregond looked at him in surprise. “I remember.”
“So I see,” Beregond said softly. “Maybe I should teach you more about the constellations.”
“Yeah, why not?” Ed said with a shrug. “If you won’t let me teach alchemy again, we might as well occupy ourselves otherwise.” He paused for a moment, hesitating, but he finally faced Beregond. “I could teach you again, you know. Why don’t you let me?”
Beregond smiled and placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder in a gesture of companionship. “Ed, there’s no point. I know how the world works now; you and Al have your bodies back; and we’re no longer in danger.”
“The people will always need a good alchemist at their side,” Ed argued.
“And I know two of their best. They’re more than enough,” Beregond answered with a smile. He patted Ed just once, and he got back on his feet. “Now come on, I cooked us some dinner.”
Ed nodded his understanding. Even so, there was something that he still wanted to ask. He never said anything before, making one excuse after the other. Now though, he couldn’t make any more excuses. He’d just go for it.
“Beregond?”
“Hmm?” the man asked, stopping in his tracks.
“You never… I mean…” Ed pursed his lips. “What did you give up?”
Beregond frowned. “What?”
Ed tried again. “When you went to the Gate to get our bodies back… you had nothing to sacrifice but a part of you. So what was it?”
Beregond caught on at last and, strangely enough, he smiled. “Something of which I had plenty.”
He didn’t say much else. He started going up the stairs, only to stop again and hum in a musing tone.
“It’s going to rain.”
“Really?” Ed asked, amused. “You smelled it?”
“Not this time,” Beregond answered, chuckling. “My knee joints hurt.”
Now that had Ed quite puzzled. “Your knee joints never hurt before.”
Beregond nodded in agreement. “I must be getting old.”
With that, he walked inside, while Ed followed suit, not picking up the fact what Beregond had just answered his question.
Who needed to actually live two hundred years anyway?
THE END
Dear Winry,
Today I got the best news of my life. Vato has asked me to officially become his girlfriend. You should have seen him trying to mumble out the words while I was trying to figure out what he wanted to say. I even thought for a moment that he meant to break up with me and I was this close to bursting into tears. Thankfully, he finally sorted everything out before things got too much out of hands; that would have been embarrassing.
Needless to say that the first one who heard the news was Brigadier General Hughes. And, of course, he was the first one to declare that Elysia should be the flower girl to our wedding. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that, if it took Vato and I over a year to finally become an item, he shouldn’t be expecting any more weddings soon. Sarah and Mr. Havoc’s was enough, for the moment.
Then again, maybe that wouldn’t have stopped Mr. Hughes. You know how obsessed he’s become with getting General Mustang and Riza married, no matter how many the general threatens to roast him alive.
You should come over to Central some time. You won’t believe the changes that they have done around here. The place seems a lot friendlier somehow, less stiff and formal. Democracy seems to have finally settled for good, just like General Mustang had wanted. More importantly, you can feel you’re surrounded by good people in Headquarters. I even keep in touch with 1st Lieutenant Breda and 2nd Lieutenant Fuery, even though their jobs can be a handful, as both of them like to say.
Well, that’s it for now from this part of the world. How are things in Resembool? More importantly, how are things between you and Al? Has he finally moved in with you?
Keep in touch,
Scieszka.
5th May, 1916
Dear Scieszka,
I was so glad to hear from you after all this time, even more so when I read that things with you and Vato are finally official. Congratulations, he’s a good man. I’m sure he’ll make you happy.
Life in Resembool is – and always will be, I guess – quiet. Of course, there was a lot of buzz when it got around that Al and I were together, and that he even moved in with me (so, yes, things with Al have been going really well). That buzz died down soon, however, when they saw the man who accompanied Ed and Al. Some of the elders insisted that they had seen Beregond’s face somewhere before, but Ed was pretty quick to say that he was an uncle they had come across during their travels. I guess it’s not all that far away from the truth, is it? It even saved them the trouble from having to answer too many questions. As Ed reasoned, the less people know about Beregond, the better.
At times like these, I want to tease both Ed and Al and say that they’re acting like overprotective parents. I can’t say I blame them, though; they’ve grown really attached to him. And, of course, Beregond loves them back, still helping them every step of the way. He’s even helped them rebuild their old house, and he’s been sharing the place with Ed since then. Somehow, I don’t think Ed would want it any other way. After wandering for so long, they’ve finally found the measure of peace they’ve been looking for. That’s what Beregond says anyway; I was never as good at words as he is. And to think that Amestrian isn’t his first language!
Tell the others I said ‘Hi”, and I promise I’ll visit Central at the first chance. I want to check out the new automail trends, after all!
Till next time,
Winry
10th May, 1916
When Ed came this morning and said that he wanted to talk to me in private, I have to admit that I was worried at first; I thought something was wrong with Beregond. I guess it’s a bit paranoid of me after all this time, but I can’t help it. We don’t know what he gave up so we could get our bodies and, though he seems fine, I still wait for the time that his sacrifice is going to catch up with him.
I guess Beregond must realise it, too. Even since he came out of the coma, he’s been keeping himself busy, corresponding with Professor Syndow and telling him stories of Middle-earth. I suspect it was something that he owed to his people – to never be forgotten. Because then they’ll never be really gone. They will just live on forever as myths and legends.
For the time being though, this story has finally reached its end. That’s what Ed declared as he handed me his journal, insisting that I should be the one to write its epilogue. As far as he is concerned, he is done with that chapter of his life. I can’t agree more to that.
It’s intriguing how Ed started this journal. ‘Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy’s first Law of Equivalent Exchange.’ That quote guided us throughout our lives, for we believed it was the world’s one, and only, truth. The truth is, though, that the world isn’t perfect and the law is incomplete. Equivalent Exchange doesn’t encompass everything that goes on here. But I still choose to believe in its principle: that all things do come at a price. That there's an ebb and a flow, a cycle. That the pain we went through did have a reward and that anyone who's determined and perseveres will get something of value in return, even if it's not what they expected. I don't think of Equivalent Exchange as a law of the world anymore. I think of it as a promise between my brother, myself and Beregond - a promise that we'll stay together, no matter what.
Ed still sat on the stairs of the porch, his gaze locked on the stars high above. It was a quiet and warm night for this time of year, so he could stay outside without having to wear his overcoat. He didn’t feel like getting up and retrieving it from his room anyway; it seemed too much of a bother.
“Ed?” Beregond’s voice sounded from behind him, along with the familiar footsteps coming closer. “Something wrong?”
Ed faced Beregond. The man was dressed quite lightly, the top buttons of his shirt open and a pair of bracers holding his trousers. His posture was quite relaxed too, but his eyes reflected his mild concern.
“Should there be anything wrong?” Ed asked, puzzled.
“You tell me,” the Gondorian answered, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve called you three times before I decided to start looking for you.”
“Oh,” Ed said. He scratched his head in an embarrassed manner. “Sorry.”
“That’s fine,” Beregond said, waving his hand dismissively. “Just let me know when you decide to daydream about… Sophie, was it?”
“Gah, let it go, will you?” Ed exclaimed. “I only met her a couple of times.”
“True,” Beregond said but, at the next moment, he sat next to Ed, regarding him teasingly from the corner of his eye. “I bet you want to meet her again, though.”
“Shut up,” Ed said, cuffing Beregond’s arm in playful warning. “You know I hate it when you’re right.”
“My apologies, I’ll try to be wrong next time,” the Gondorian said, rubbing his arm. Nevertheless, he nudged the young man. “Joke aside, I’m really happy for you.”
“Nothing happened yet, so hold your horses,” Ed pointed out before lifting his gaze back to the sky above. “The stars are really bright tonight.”
The Gondorian looked up as well, and a small sigh flowed out of his lips. “Yeah,” he said, and he pointed to a cluster of seven stars. “There’s Menelvagor.”
“And there’s the Sickle of the Valar,” Ed said, pointing to another cluster. He smirked a bit when Beregond looked at him in surprise. “I remember.”
“So I see,” Beregond said softly. “Maybe I should teach you more about the constellations.”
“Yeah, why not?” Ed said with a shrug. “If you won’t let me teach alchemy again, we might as well occupy ourselves otherwise.” He paused for a moment, hesitating, but he finally faced Beregond. “I could teach you again, you know. Why don’t you let me?”
Beregond smiled and placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder in a gesture of companionship. “Ed, there’s no point. I know how the world works now; you and Al have your bodies back; and we’re no longer in danger.”
“The people will always need a good alchemist at their side,” Ed argued.
“And I know two of their best. They’re more than enough,” Beregond answered with a smile. He patted Ed just once, and he got back on his feet. “Now come on, I cooked us some dinner.”
Ed nodded his understanding. Even so, there was something that he still wanted to ask. He never said anything before, making one excuse after the other. Now though, he couldn’t make any more excuses. He’d just go for it.
“Beregond?”
“Hmm?” the man asked, stopping in his tracks.
“You never… I mean…” Ed pursed his lips. “What did you give up?”
Beregond frowned. “What?”
Ed tried again. “When you went to the Gate to get our bodies back… you had nothing to sacrifice but a part of you. So what was it?”
Beregond caught on at last and, strangely enough, he smiled. “Something of which I had plenty.”
He didn’t say much else. He started going up the stairs, only to stop again and hum in a musing tone.
“It’s going to rain.”
“Really?” Ed asked, amused. “You smelled it?”
“Not this time,” Beregond answered, chuckling. “My knee joints hurt.”
Now that had Ed quite puzzled. “Your knee joints never hurt before.”
Beregond nodded in agreement. “I must be getting old.”
With that, he walked inside, while Ed followed suit, not picking up the fact what Beregond had just answered his question.
Who needed to actually live two hundred years anyway?
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