Full Metal Legacy
Prologue: Another Type of Alchemist
Prologue: Another Type of Alchemist
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The night was breaking over the sleepy town of East City, the morning now beginning to creep in slivering golden beams as the day’s first light inched over the horizon. The sound of individual merchants and citizens groggily walking out to their respective businesses and work places rose slowly as a faint mix of footsteps clattering on the pavement accompanied a few small lulls of drowsy chatter, most women and men still pining for the solace of their beds and slumber. With a bit of time, the whispers turned to boisterous chatter and finally to a steady roar, the light in people’s eyes growing brighter and more alert with every leap the sun made into the sky above. Another day was dawning in East City, and, for all of the monotony that came with life in the only great city in the eastern half of Amestres, it promised to be a stellar one; the breeze was a cool caress on one’s cheek, and the temperature was mild and pleasant.
The beauty of the coming day seemed to be lost on the blue coated soldiers rushing through the center of town. Dashing down one of the main roads heading south, the leader, a tall woman with golden blonde hair and striking brown eyes, gestured quickly to a small alleyway with an imperious gesture. Nodding at her, the rest of the armed entourage jerked left, down the darkened walkway which led to a row of shady looking apartments on the interior. They would have been dreary places to live, as not much light reached their windows and all one could see would be the apartments on the opposite side. The woman pushed that thought out of her head; the buildings themselves weren’t important. It was what, or rather who, was inside them that the military held in esteem here. Marching urgently inside, the lieutenant looked towards one of her subordinates for the mission, another blonde haired soldier, a man with peaceful blue eyes and a careless expression, and gestured towards the door with a commanding flick of her head.
“Havoc, watch the door”, she spoke calmly, authority coming naturally to her voice and giving her words strength.
With a quick nod and an easy smile, Lieutenant Jean Havoc saluted smartly and immediately brought out a small military pistol.
“You’ve got it, Lieutenant Hawkeye.”
His response was nonchalant, normal for him in missions like this one, and most officers would have reprimanded him for it, but Riza Hawkeye didn’t bother; she knew that Jean was a relaxed man at heart, and even though he may sound careless he was far from it. The best commando at Eastern Command didn’t need to act ready to be ready. Nodding in approval, she led the other soldier, a nervous, thin man wearing spectacles who paced himself beside his commander. Glancing over at him, Hawkeye pointed behind them, towards other doors in the compound as the two raced up the stairs.
“Sgt. Fury, watch my six! Make sure no one flanks us!”
With a small shake of his head, the spiky haired young soldier saluted shortly with one hand while the other had a sweaty grip on his pistol.
“Y-yes sir!”
The sound of their beating footsteps seemed to echo up the wooden staircase, like a steady pat of thunder shooting through the old and decrepit building. A few people, mostly elderly and destitute, opened their doors for a moment to see what the racket was about before quickly turning about and slamming them back shut. Not many citizens dared to cross the military in Amestres, and these ones certainly didn’t feel like testing their luck. The two soldiers slowed as they reached the top of the stairs, beginning to draw their weapons as they saw a single, ancient door at the top. This apartment was supposed to be the old building manager’s quarters, and had been abandoned for quite some time when the facility went bankrupt, but recently a certain man was said to have taken up residence there; a curious fellow with an affinity for making strange disruptions in the building that, according to the other inhabitants, ‘reeked of the arcane’. Inane chanting, a thick smell of incense, and even what sounded like small explosions, were said to ring throughout the complex around midnight most evenings. While soldiers weren’t trained to believe in magic, they had been told to be wary of something not too far off…
Stopping in front of the door, Hawkeye gestured with her free hand at the door and nodded towards Fury, who nodded back in turn. The lieutenant held up three fingers and silently began to count down: one…two…three! As all of the fingers were lowered into a slender fist, the two of them rammed their shoulders against the aged door, easily bashing it down and almost splintering it. Hawkeye rushed into the room, cocking her pistol and holding it securely with both hands, one eye narrowed down the sights at a small figure cloaked in a thin red coat, hood obscuring his face. The figure gave a start and its hands shot up, obviously panicked. The room indeed carried the heavy stench of ritual powders commonly used by alchemists, but the rest of the room was not what the two had expected: papers with complicated algorithms and symbols were scattered everywhere, a desk had been tipped over on its side as thought thrown across the room, and blast marks were clearly seen scorched into the rickety old room. That the whole building hadn’t been burned down by now was a small miracle. None of this mess distracted Hawkeye; she merely continued to stare down her target, completely composed. She decided that she ought to give him a few seconds to steam, to let him appreciate the gravity of his situation, but before she could blink, the figure waved his trembling hands and shouted in a high, shrill voice.
“St-stop! Don’t shoot, okay!”
Blink. Lieutenant Hawkeye was slightly surprised at what she heard, for the voice couldn’t be mistaken as belonging to anyone but a child. This was him? This was the feared alchemist that had been operating in the east outside of the state’s control? This…kid? Shaking her head, she stood firm and began to speak to him as she had planned.
“Alchemist, you are hereby under investigation by Eastern Command of the Amestrian Military for conducting dangerous and illegal alchemic experiments in a public setting without authorization. We are here to escort you to headquarters where our commanding officer will ask you some questions…”
“No! I can’t go there! I’m sorry, but I just can’t work with the military, for any purpose!”
The frantic adolescent voice again caught Hawkeye somewhat off guard, but it was easier to manage this time, the shock of the discovery mostly gone, and her voice became sterner as she barked at him once more.
“My apologies, but this isn’t a request. Come with us. Now!”
The figure, who had been crouching down with his hands raised, back partially to them, finally stopped shaking and stood; he was not a tall man, by any means, but he stood very straight. His face was still indistinguishable, but his coat had a strange symbol illustrated on the back, a serpent curved around a cross, underneath a crown adorned by wings. After a moment, the hooded figure looked toward the two soldiers, his head shaking as though he were thinking. With a small pause, he placed his white gloved hands firmly on the ground.
“…sorry.”
A crackle of bright blue lightning danced around his hands and the stone floor, as though he had made a storm from the stone. Hawkeye swore loudly and threw her arms around Fury’s shoulders.
“Get down!”
The two fell to the ground as she slammed Fury down so hard that it knocked the wind out of him. Grunting in pain, Fury looked up through quivering, terrified eyes to see that two stones had slammed into the wall above them, shooting out from the stone where the alchemist had thrust his hands. A small gust of wind made them look up as they saw the black pants and boots of the strange alchemist fly over them; looking up, Hawkeye could see a small, angled face with blue hair sticking from the edges of the hood. The face she saw there looked apologetic to the point that it was almost pitiful. One more time, a high pitched shout as he flew over the two soldiers and dashed down the stairs.
“I’m sorry!”
Not missing a beat, Hawkeye bounded to her feet and flew towards the stairs, leaving the stunned Fury behind. As she pursued, crackling bolts of lightning began to appear once more, as the wooden steps morphed into pillars and launched towards her from different angles. Nimble on her feet, the skilled lieutenant bounded from pillar, to stairs, back to another pillar, slowed only slightly by the attack. Yet, she felt distracted as she looked at the pillars and there flat, unthreatening tops; she would have the wind knocked out of her if she were hit, but she would live, and wouldn’t even be in much pain to boot. This boy, for all of his desperation, wasn’t even attempting to kill her! With a growl, she ran faster, barking down the stairs as the red hooded alchemist approached the bottom.
“Havoc! You’re up! Stop him! Use force if necessary!”
Stepping directly into the door frame, the handsome lieutenant grinned in anticipation at the approaching foe. Fingering his pistol almost lovingly, he closed one eye and slowly pulled back the trigger, his mouth calling out his shot.
“Annnd…bang.”
The steel bullet rifled in a perfect line towards the alchemist, who wildly threw up his left arm. Havoc smiled widely, glad at that; in his haste, he had taken a kill shot to be safe, and the Colonel had wanted their target alive. Now that the bullet had hit his arm and flew off harmlessly, he would be able to…
Wait a minute, thought the lieutenant, why the hell did my bullet just bounce off his arm!?
Bang. A pillar rose from the earth and cracked right into Lt. Havoc’s ribcage, making him gasp in pain as he was slammed into the wall and felt its face crumble into shards of rock behind him as he fell to the ground outside, laying limp next to the opposite building he had been standing in moments before. He groaned in agony; some bones felt broken and he was having a hard time standing. The cloaked figure began to run past the fallen soldier as he exited the apartment complex, only to double back rather quickly and bow sincerely. The shrill, apologetic voice once again rang through the air.
“Please, forgive me sir!”
With that, the figure ran towards the end of the alley. Havoc, dumbfounded, scrambled to his feet as best he could. This was the famous alchemist they had been searching for? This whimpering little kid?
Sighing to himself in relief, the cloaked alchemist sped towards the shining light at the end of the rows of buildings. Once he was out in the open, he could lose the soldiers in the crowds and then escape to another isolated place. As tragic as it was to lose all of his research notes, survival meant that he still had hope. He kept thinking that until he was stopped short by his hope going up in a burst of flame in the most literal fashion possible; a great pyre erupted before him, closing off his exit route in a wall of searing heat, the crimson and golden embers dancing from the fire and biting at his face as the young man yelped. Making a quick turn on his heels, he had to screech to a halt after a few short steps. The three soldiers who pursued him had regrouped in front of the building, but stood behind a fourth, new figure: a deep blue uniform adorned this man’s body, same as the rest, except his had significantly more decoration adorning his. Medals, badges, all sorts of honors graced his visage. He stood with a dominating posture, his eyes cold and dark as coal, though they had a fiery edge to them which displayed such great confidence that it bordered on arrogance.
His face was taut and without emotion, as he sized up the red cloaked target. With a grunt, pistol in hand, he fired off another quick round which the alchemist bashed away with a rough swish of his arm once more. This action earned a nod from the new soldier, who scratched his smooth chin with a hand which, like the alchemist, was armored in a white glove. This glove, however, had a red circle with various marks and slashes drawn into it, drawing a surprised gasp from the cloaked man; the markings were a transmutation circle, the fundamental key for most people to use alchemy. Most. The soldier, a high ranking officer, it seemed, clicked his tongue as he gauged his adversary.
“I see…bullets don’t work. The arm is automail, I take it?”
Roaring like a beast being prodded into a cage, the figure smashed his hands into the ground and sent a column of gravel flying towards the officer. Without hesitation, the soldier held up his free hand and snapped, a spark crackling to life from between his fingers. The ground approaching him immediately burst into flame, combusting into nothing as the officer’s flames incinerated it. The cloaked alchemist swallowed hard, gazing down at the line of charred earth that was left blackened upon the ground. He cursed lightly, something he wasn’t accustomed to doing; it wasn’t his fault though, stupid state alchemists! His teacher had called them military dogs, only good for killing on command, and he had believed it ever since. This was proof! The officer began walking towards him through the carnage, clicking his tongue once more, though this time he seemed to be somewhat impressed at a feat that was truly remarkable.
“And transmutation without a circle…that’s supposed to be impossible, you know?”
The officer stopped directly in front of the alchemist, gazing up and down him, sizing the kid up, and grinned slowly. Colonel Roy Mustang was an excited man. This kid was the real deal, exactly as the description of the boy’s feats had been sold to him. An invulnerable body that wasn’t harmed by conventional weapons, the ability to use advanced alchemy with no preparation, as though he were some grand magician warping the earth around him at will. With a flick of his wrist, Mustang threw off the boy’s hood. He almost winced at what he saw: the face was clearly young, no older than fourteen, his blonde hair seemed almost to shine in even limited sunlight, and, despite being fairly small in stature, he looked very lean and fit. The eyes, however, stopped him. Where the rest of the youth’s face radiated health and vigor, the eyes held a tired, sorrowful look to them, as though they hadn’t seen a moment without pain in his whole lifetime. The Colonel’s face couldn’t help but soften, just a little bit; they were the saddest eyes he had ever seen in his entire bloody career as a soldier.
Stopping short, he looked down at the boy and shook his head.
“No matter all of this. I believe you know you can’t beat me right now. And escape is just as unlikely, don’t doubt it for a second. I’m not here to hurt you, or even to fight. I just want to talk.”
He cocked his head to the side and smiled reassuringly, his voice and demeanor taking on a level of warmth that took Hawkeye and the rest by surprise; it was unlike Roy Mustang to show compassion on military business.
“Now, please tell me,” the Colonel continued, not letting himself lose momentum as he noticed the youth’s desire to resist fading, “are you who we’re looking for?”
The boy looked down, shuffling his feet nervously as he contemplated whether or not he should try to run away again. He knew he couldn’t trust the military, not ever…but this man felt different, somehow. The combination of assurance and serenity in his young face made you feel like you could trust him more than most people. Swallowing once more, the young man looked up to meet the Colonel’s eyes and then nodded, very slowly.
“Yes sir. My name is Alphonse Elric…I’m the Full Metal Alchemist.”
Author's Note:
Hello to anyone who made it this far. First off, thanks for reading. If for whatever reason you read this without me pointing it out to you and you have no idea who I am, I'm Germanicus. I wrote on the base for a while a few years ago and have returned off and on at times, at a whim. This is a small project I decided to undertake because I missed writing and felt like doing some basic fan fiction again. Having been a fan of Full Metal Alchemist for a while, I figured I would take a crack at doing an FMA story. You could probably already tell, but this is an alternative story to either of the tales told by the manga/Brotherhood or the original animated series. It will be, by creative nature, very different, so if that doesn't appeal to you, please feel free to move on (other than all of the crying I'll do and the crippling sadness I'll have, don't worry, it won't bother me) and thanks for reading this chapter. That being said, if you like what you see (or don't) feel free to leave a comment here or on my profile with your thoughts, questions, hate mail, just wanna say hi, and so on. I appreciate all comments that aren't outright hateful. That should be about all I have to say right now, so again, thank you for your time, and have a great day.
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