FMA [BigBang Fic]: ACIS: Central City (4/7)
Title: ACIS: Central City
Genre: Divergence, Mystery, Family
Summary: Mangaverse, divergence. Central City 1910 - 1916. Political upheaval has restructured the proud nation of Amestris to a blooming democracy, where the art of alchemy is no longer glorified, but monitored for the distrust it has sown. In this obstructive climate, Roy Mustang’s investigative team must track down a familiar face, for ties to a brutal homicide case.
Rating: T
Word count: 30.000+
Spoilers: mild spoilers for everything, which includes the new movie
Disclaimer: Everything FMA belongs to Arakawa & BONES.
Warnings: minor character deaths, bit of cussing, some gore (crime scene, not much you can do about it.)
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PREVIOUS
PART 3
Wednesday, April 07 1916, 21:05 Central City - Regent’s Park
“You know, Boss.” Jean paused to light up another cigarette. “Normally, right about now, all of us could have been at Riza’s party. I would have scored a hot date.” He hid a grimace at his latest track record of dates with a deep inhale of nicotine. “Or at least been getting pissed drunk. This better be good.”
Of course, Jean knew it would be. Mustang wouldn’t have made them all cancel on Riza for less than necessity. But the ribbing worked to get some agitation and nerves out of his system. Though Jean claimed pride in his field proficiency, after normal working hours he still preferred an uncomfortable desk chair to the cold, damp wooden park bench that would render his butt numb before the off-the-record meeting was completed.
“Haven’t you been complaining about too much desk work, Havoc?” Mustang asked rhetorically. “I’m getting tired of the petty griping,” It never failed to impress Jean how many layers of different meanings his boss could lay into a single, at face value ordinary sentence. “So you’ll leave on a retrieval mission at first light.” Oh, this was going to be really good then. Now Jean just needed to see how all the puzzle pieces fit together, but then that was what this outing had been designed for.
In order to keep the Director out of the loop for the first crucial hours of the investigation - trying for any longer was an exercise in naive delusion - Mustang had opted to hold the first team debriefing away from I.A.’s big ears and on neutral ground. A security risk in and of itself, but one the boss seemed willing to take for once.
Hence, Roy just happened to pass the park as he went out of his way to buy the newspaper evening edition from the street vendor at the southwest park entrance.
Jean liked to stretch his legs after a busy day, especially one as stressful as the latest developments were shaping this one to be. And what better place to unwind than the slowly emptying park?
Everyone within their department knew that, when she could spare the time, Riza preferred to walk Black Hayate in the park during the evenings. Of course she halted to civilly greet her co-workers once she bumped into Jean and their boss.
From there it could almost be construed as coincidence that Breda’s favourite hotdog stand was stationed not too far away from the newspaper man. Hughes joined them within twenty minutes, after having rushed home to see to it that his wife and daughter were at least safe and sound and to give Gracia some emergency instructions. If he and Mustang normally would meet up inside a café, well, then, it only made sense to disrupt that routine now.
With the direct subordinates gathered ‘round the now crowded park bench - either sitting, shuffling as far away from the dog while still within hearing range or simply leaning close - Mustang briefed them on their progress.
“There are some angles to our new priority case that you should all be made aware of. Normally, the higher-ups and I would have wanted to avoid this step, but the circumstances are changing.”
Jean connected the unspoken dots, but Breda beat him to the punch line. “This case touches upon a Covert Op.”
His boss gave him a look of approval at the quick thinking. “It does. First, however, I want to hear what everyone has dug up so far. Whether the information was gathered on the need to know side of the field,” Jean wasn’t all that surprised when the boss deliberately glanced at Riza. Jean knew of her past involvement in at least two off the record jobs. That Mustang next looked at Hughes was hardly unexpected. Maes and Riza were the closest to the boss out of the lot of them, they were practically his family. “Or otherwise.”
Jean looked at his buddy with a feeling of commiseration. At least Breda had been operating in the dark too. Jean would have felt just a little hurt and a lot like the odd man out otherwise. He knew he was being unreasonable. Jean fully comprehended the importance of need to know cases, with the sometimes sensitive field ops he himself was regularly sent on. Still, this was different; this was something that somehow involved their team directly. No use dwelling on it, but as if was he hardly had collected enough relevant information to get the ball rolling. Fortunately, Breda was willing to help out in that department.
“I suppose, having been the first on the scene, we should start with initial observations. Feel free to interrupt with your more informed interpretation any time.” The last bit was neutrally directed at Riza, who only nodded in reply. “By the time we arrived at the scene, an ambulance was already gearing up to transport Miss Chang, the only survivor to the hospital. Clearly, someone had made the call before our arrival. I highly doubt any of Chang’s own people did so; they seem like a close-knit group, suspicious of outsiders. Those few people who agreed to speak to us of course had neither seen nor heard anything. Any potential witnesses on their part are a dead end.” Breda’s tone at the last part was saturated with disgruntled sarcasm.
The chief nodded. “The clans prefer to deal with any of their own internally, in accordance with their traditions. These include healing, homicide and cooperation with our domestic authorities. Whoever alerted the hospital, it had to have been an outsider. This also implies they were either skilled enough to avoid being thrown out of clan restricted territory, or more likely, tolerated there.”
Jean flicked the butt of his cigarette away. “Isn’t that a rare thing? Those Xingese immigrants strike me as a bunch of paranoia stiffs.”
Mustang continued without acknowledging or denying the slight. “It’s true that not many people can boast clan protection. Additionally, the nearest phone booth would be the central market square. The caller would have to have witnessed the crime first hand, been allowed to escape by the clans and then run to make the call. This, combined with DNA found on the scene, leads us to suspect Edward Elric. Miss Chang gave us a preliminary witness statement, but we’ll have to cross-reference her testimonial of events with Edward’s.”
Jean had followed the boss’s logic up until the part where the Elric name popped up. He turned his bewilderment on Hughes. “What on earth does your brat-through-paperwork want with the Xingese on their private turf? Doesn’t sound like he just got lost to me.”
Hughes looked offended by Jean’s implication, but someone had to say it.
Breda piped up to diffuse the mounting tension, addressing all three agents in the know. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with what you had me look into in 1910 and the Alchemist Restriction Act?”
Riza cleared her throat. “Accurately observed. I’ll be frank about my own semi-involvement in our current situation. For the past few years, about a year since the start-up of our agency, I have been partnering up on scouting missions. The parameters were intelligence, recruitment and detainment. These errands took us mostly to the west and south in order to prevent new altercations in the border towns.” Her tone was neutral - slipping into military mode again, Jean recognised - as she gave a concise summary.
Briefly fooled, Jean jumped to the most obvious conclusion, momentarily derailed by the apparent change of subject. “Cut us some slack next time, Chief. Here we all are worried that you’re so uptight because you’re seeing less of Hawkeye, when you’re really seeing her more than anyone else?”
Breda nudged Jean. “That wouldn’t work if the boss’s every move is still watched. Unless you got rid of both the watchdogs and your impairment without informing us?” That was directed straight at Roy, who scowled and twisted his left hand around his right wrist. Long sleeves, a thick coat and his signature gloves effective hid the State’s detaining wristbands from sight.
Oh, the reorganised R&D department had been obliged to modify Mustang’s cuffs, giving him some measure of leeway. Even those morons set on castrating the alchemy out of anyone ‘not approved’, especially with the State Alchemist programme disbanded, realised that completely crippling Amestris’ only fire oriented alchemist could come to bite them in the ass one day, given all the lethal situations Amestris still faced internally and at its borders. Thus, Roy could still cause some severe burns on an enemy or roast a man’s eyeballs or their tongue. But he would be hard pressed to lethally injure one person, let alone a dozen or more. With the state’s failsafe in place, another Ishbal wouldn’t happen without explicit sanction from the entire democracy. Or rather from said democracy’s conservative representatives.
Riza got them back on track with a sharp look. “My partner on these cases is the one competent alchemist, who purely by chance manages to fool the State’s alchemic dampening system, and whom I trust to enough to cooperate and follow my lead. Breda was correct in his earlier conclusions.” Riza favoured at the man in question with an upward twists of her lips. “Your assessment is valid. Both you and Jean have even met this person on a few occasions. He is Alphonse Elric, except the two of you just know him as Edward.”
That gave both Jean and even fast on the uptake Breda pause. Jean was the first to object. “Hang on a sec. That doesn’t add up in so many ways.”
Hughes shared a long look with Mustang and cleared his throat. “I think I should explain, before we proceed on our findings of today. You see-” He cut himself off suddenly and tensed, hand reaching his hidden throw knife at the same time as Black Hayate’s ears perked up. The entire team readied themselves as the dog’s hackles rose.
Two slim figures emerged slowly from the falling night and joined the gathering. The one in lead position didn’t even need to flash his Central Intelligence ID for them to recognise him. Dressed in an immaculate white suit, Solf Kimblee tipped his fedora to them.
“Oh, please, don’t stop on our account. The Bureau is most eager to hear more about this matter. So, interested are we in fact, that we are proposing a liaison on this particular case.” Kimblee’s smile, though sincere, was sharp enough to cut glace.
Hughes had stiffened and looked ready to skewer the former Red Lotus Alchemist at the first wrong move. Riza was still calm and collected, one of her guns held loosely at her side. Breda on the other hand, seemed to be the only person who focussed more of his attention on Kimblee’s attachée. Personally, Jean wouldn’t mind knocking that superior expression off Kimblee’s mug and couldn’t be bothered observing the ass’s sidekick for longer than a split second. While aware of his potential mistake, Jean preferred to keep his eye on the sociopath he knew to be a treacherous, backstabbing bastard and take his chances with the at first glance harmless looking unknown.
The boss seemed unaffected by Kimblee proposal annex threat. “While I’m flattered you think so highly of me in chain of command, such requests should be presented to Director Armstrong. It is a matter that goes beyond my meagre jurisdiction.”
Kimblee didn’t even bat an eyelid, an ominous sign. “Ah, Flame, surely you don’t think me such a simpleton? I made sure to obtain your director’s approval prior to this friendly get-together.” The mood took a turn awards grim on Team Mustang’s side. Kimblee wasn’t done rubbing salt in the freshly sit wound yet. “She has also promised me her employees’ full cooperation.” He paused, expectant. “I see you’ve got a better poker face since the war. Never worry, Mustang, you won’t have to work with me.”
Now the attention shift towards Kimblee’s partner was collective. Kimblee adjusted the cuffs of his suit. “Gentlemen and lady, as you’ve so brilliantly deduced, this skilled young lady will be CIA’s liaison for this mission. Don’t let her age deceive you; Miss Rockbell is this year’s most skilled of our new sworn in. For the moment, her priority lies in discretely apprehending and safely returning Edward Elric for questioning. You might want to reconsider any qualms you had about this arrangement.”
The boss wasn’t convinced, but slightly more inclined towards negotiation. “Because you claim our interest to be aligned?”
Kimblee shrugged. “Perhaps so. However, you are operating under outdated orders, Mustang.”
Mustang’s bearing shifted subtly from defensive to offensive. “Do enlighten me.”
Kimblee adopted an air of mock disappointment. “Shouldn’t you of all people know better than to try and work around the Ice Queen? Clearly she hasn’t kept you on a short enough leash, for you to forget your quite insignificant place in the grander scheme of politics.”
The Red Lotus Alchemist took in Team Mustang’s apprehensive stance and directed most of his attention to the young woman at his side. “And that, my dear, is how you play an uncooperative audience to get their undivided attention.”
He raised his hands in mock applause, when a distant booming sound scattered the oppressive silence. “My, that does sound like an excellent distraction, if our snitch was correct. If you’ll excuse me, I think I shall look into the cause. It is after all my specialty.” With another tip of his wide brimmed hat, Kimblee turned and started walking.
“Thank you all for your cooperation. Please remember that as our liaison, Miss Rockbells only has to answer to your director, Mustang, and none other.” So confident was Kimblee of his superior position that he showed them only his back as he slid in the none-too-subtle warning. “I must take my leave and let you fill Miss Rockbell in on any pertinent details regarding the Elric case for a speedy rescue.”
Hughes spared Mustang from having to call after the man. “Oi, Kimblee, what are you on about a ‘rescue’?”
Kimblee’s normally dull eyes flickered briefly with a small measure of cold amusement as he looked back over his shoulder. “Ah, yes, none of you would have heard yet, would you? Director Armstrong feels strongly about potential traitors in her own troops. The one sent out to retrieve Elric won’t be one of your trusted pawns, Mustang. I believe the Director delegated that assignment in your team’s absence to one of those Ishvalans she likes to keep around. They are not exactly known for bringing many rogues in alive now, are they?” Kimblee waved a hand farewell at them as he walked under the next lamppost, the sleeve of his suit slipping back to reveal his bare wrist as he sauntered back into the falling night.
Illustration by seta_suzume
Wednesday, April 07, 18:31 - Central City - Eastern District - Xing Town - West End
To any Amestrian who didn’t harbour the immigrated Xingese outward hostility or ill will, the markets and boutiques that formed the hotspot of Xing Town were a real treat to visit. Lively music played on busy squares. You couldn’t walk fifteen yards on the main streets without encountering some exotic food stall - the tiny dishes still sizzling to attract the random passer-by - and the sweet, strong aroma of spices used and sold drifted on the air currents all day and most of the night. To complete the experience, a fair number of merchants liked to dress up in traditional garb to draw the eye of potential customers - Central City folk and tourists alike.
Overall, the commercial front was a peaceful affair. Any Amestrian troublemaker, who wasn’t just a harmless drunk, would be escorted to the edge of the district with minimal fuss - the benefit of having swords, daggers, bombs and who knew what else on hand - by the local neighbourhood watchmen. If the one stirring up unrest was one of their own, that person would be led before his or her clan leader to be straightened out.
Fair enough, tension ran high between the more important clans, but those affairs were mostly kept to their own turf, as much away from the prying eyes of the ignorant city natives as was manageable. In those areas, very tensions and daggers sparked as they clashed in the evening and during the night. Clan symbols were worn liberally by inhabitants and their permanent visitors to stake their right to walk certain back alleys without finding a dagger at their throat two steps in, as well as flaunt the protection of certain clans for all watchdogs to observe.
Normally, no Amestrian except for nosy police forces, who didn’t know when not to meddle in foreign affairs, or people walking the darker paths of life, roamed those areas. Still, rumors of the clans’ supposed brutality spread as they were wont to do. A bad reputation was easily cultivated from there on out. Better that the ignorant Amestrians feared yet respected the clans, than take up arms of mass destruction and try to eliminate the foreigners through genocide. If nothing else, it cautioned the sensible civilians to keep to the impressive commercial hub of Xing Town. Just around the block from the main road you might find, if you knew where to look, the smallest specialty shops that catered exclusively to their own, except for those wealthy few who had experience in matters conducted under-the-counter.
The majority of the regular shops had closed down for the day, but the food stalls and restaurants were just catching the first wave of night time patrons. Conversation and music flared out into the street whenever their doors opened for new clientele, but not even the appetising waft of grilled fish and meat slowed down one lonesome fair haired youth. He strode past the activity in a sightless rush and took to the off-limits back alleys of Xing Town with a determined step that pointed to either utter disregard of danger to his person, familiarity with the territory, or both.
Edward tugged a Xingese lion charm - to the clans a symbol of protection from the Yao Clan specifically, and a sign of auspiciousness in general - on a leather string out from under his black shirt to bounce on his chest, over his heart, as he continued his trek into perilous territory. The metal of the charm caught the light of the sunset while he jogged on, as he knew it would. After all, it wouldn’t do to be gutted on Lin’s doorstep, just for neglecting to claim sanctuary before one of the two guards shadowing him decided to take more lethal pre-emptive action.
Edward’s detour to the market square outside Xing Town and then the long way back in through the tourist catering Fuujin main street and ‘round the back into Yao territory, while avoiding Chang turf and all the attention it might by now have garnered from Amestris’ prime - and also local, less stellar - investigative forces.
A squeaking sound from his right hand caused Ed to briefly divert his attention. Poking out from between a dark leather gloved fist was a tiny, furry head with teeth. The blasted evil panda was still clamping down on his automail thumb with vigour. “You must be even more stupid than I thought: you can chew all you want, it’s never going to hurt.”
He should have just left the simple, tiny mammal to be gobbled up by the chimeras that took down Dorchette before a proper fight could even break out, once the main beast was death and just run for it sooner. Ed was confident the snake woman would have followed him; after all he seemed to be their target, May and her tiny entourage just unlucky bystanders. Wrong time, wrong place. Except there had been no guarantee the mini-panda’s death would have been safe on its own. Should the little pest of a wild mammal turned pet get lost or murdered by a cranky alley cat, then that would have left May even more heart broken than the demise of a guard she valued as a person and… And what was he even doing getting involved in all this shit?
Ed wanted answers. Find out why someone had sent a bunch of chimeras - the successfully created human chimera had been a shocker, both to him and the beangirl - after him. He wasn’t all that special or important. Nor was Al, not really. Not in the grander scheme of things. Certainly not in the way you would expect when talking hit jobs and kidnapping attempts. Ed also, quite desperately wanted to figure out exactly what about their latest Alkahestry attempt during said skirmish had caused Al’s soul anchor to go haywire. May would probably work up a new theory about Al’s seal and the xue-qi she was convinced had been an elemental part of the alchemy Ed had used to forge the bond.
This prediction meant he needed to go knock on Lin’s door for the information. Likely none other in Xing Town but the Yao clan leader would be willing first and foremost and able to help them besides. Ed needed all the facts he could possibly get on who had orchestrated that chimera attack, it had been too methodical. From what brief exchange he’d had with the snake chimera, she didn’t look like the type on a personal vendetta. Which meant someone else was pulling the strings and Ed wanted to be the one of beat the crap out of whatever new bad in town was behind it. That information he could under other circumstances easily get if ACIS were to assign him and Riza the case. This time there was a guarantee they wouldn’t, due to his close involvement. They’d focus on his own pesky personal details that didn’t matter and would lose the trail in doing so. He’d be lucky if they didn’t lock him up for some time for good measure. No way could he let that happen.
The shadow of a third guard flitted even closer from the roof of the low building on his left. In reaction, different alchemic circles took shape in his mind - all the right essential principles, angles and elemental runes for protection and counterattack. The instinctive urge to craft a weapon grew, until the perfect array hummed in his mind. As a precaution, Ed dropped the squirming, hostile panda into his wide jacket pocket, so his hands were free. His fingers touched to form the circle on physical plane in preparation to fight back, without his conscious command even as he ran on, ready to whirl around and lay in to his pursuers with a vengeance.
A shock of overriding pain from his left wrist and right ankle disrupted his intense focus on the mathematical equation. Ed cursed his own distracted oversight and the State’s paranoiac disciplinary measures. ‘Damn those backwards weaklings and their idiotic contraptions.’
Resignation bubbled from a special corner of his mind to cool his temper. Along with that emotion came the cherished, though often annoying, voice only he could hear, echoing through his head. -‘Either use Alkahestry or let me fight, Ed.’- Still twitching muscled tensed up again keenly.
“And let you have all the fun again? I don’t think so.” Ed might grumble, but he was more relieved than anything that Al had quickly regained consciousness. Now they just had to figure out what had messed things up in the first place. A flash of memory, related to the ones Ed had been grasping at moments before, overrode his disquiet. It was a slightly older recollection Ed felt only distantly familiar with. He recalled May talking animatedly to Alphonse about the Dragon’s Pulse. The fundament of Alkahestry could provide a possible method to disrupt - theoretically without too much bodily and mental risk - the disabling State devices that confined most of his alchemy. It could be a notionally effective way to ultimately render the monitoring, disciplinary ankle- and wristbands useless.
That was his and Al’s most immediate objective, as it would give Ed that much more leeway in the practical application of alchemy in everyday life and self-defence - a promise of real freedom after all these restrictions. In the long-term state of things, it paved the way for a true fix to Al’s situation, should the Purification Arts turn out to be the nth false lead. But it would all be futile, if Ed couldn’t find out, fast, how this damned Dragon’s Pulse had fucked up the soul bond and undo it. He could only hope that his very limited - almost useless - knowledge of Alkahestry would keep registering with the cuffs as ‘not-alchemy’ and thus remain unrestricted. Otherwise, Ed would truly be powerless again should Al have another spell and Ed didn’t even know for sure if this sudden flux was something he could safely interfere with, or if it would keep resolving itself, like the last time they’d been in a similar bind.
Ed rounded another now too-quiet street corner, brooding over the fact that he didn’t have much to show in way of progress over the last couple of years. In fact, this new fiasco might even make him regress to being chased down by Mustang’s team and he really didn’t want to go through that whole humiliation again. Worse, unlike last time, even though they were practically adults, he and Al now actually had people waiting on them to come home tonight and be let down.
Before the dark mood could comfortably curl around Ed’s dreary thoughts, reassurance that wasn’t his own flooded part of his senses and relaxed some of his tense muscles. -‘Stop worrying, Brother. We’ll find the answers and they’ll forgive us. We’ll work something out.’-
Another person’s optimism is so much harder to ignore when - more than just hearing a pep talk - that person can actively project positive feelings onto your own. ‘Yes, we will. And you’re sitting this one out until we have our answers. You’re not fainting on me again, you sissy.’
-‘And to think you call me overbearing, you ass.’- Shaking his head fondly at Al’s light-hearted retort, Ed forced himself to focus only on the present and on the gate guards coming into view. Not that there was a gate to the small building masquerading as one of many tiny apothecaries, but the bouncers took their job seriously enough to mistake them for the elite royal guards of Lin’s fanciful, and - Ed suspected - often liberally exaggerated tales of his home - a small palace with two temples - and not well known homeland.
Ed slowed his pace to a fast walk, but remained completely nonchalant in the face of the looming form of the sole Amestrian stationed at the side entrance and the coiled grace of the Xingese watchmen to form a living doorway, as well as his three now openly closing in shadows at his back.
Skipping the common courtesy of greeting the slit-eyed gatekeeper first, Ed deliberately ignored the others and addressed his fellow automail equipped countrymen first. “Keeping those gears oiled, Barud? I’ve got no time for games tonight; just tell the royal asshole I need a favour, pronto.” The rolled up wad of hard-earned cenz crinkled in his left hand as he handed them over to the muscular man, who made his tacky eye patch look good.
Everyone who knew anything about the former leader of the terrorist group Blue Squad could tell you the most efficient deals with him were made through generous monetary transactions. Even if the long haired man had clearly never been the brightest kid at school, he could get simple thug jobs done effectively enough for the Yao clan to employ his services. Barud would have taken a well-paying task and figured he’d try his luck with another clan, if he didn’t like the outcome, except the Amestrian had quickly been shown the error of his ways by his new boss. You did not walk away from the Clan you’d served once the deed was done. Loyalty meant the world to the Xingese and even an outsider - once vouched for by one clan - did not just go taking jobs from other families, no matter how well they offered to pay. Whatever united front they presented to the middle and upper-class outside world, clan secrets were jealously guarded. This, of course, also meant that Ed’s current move was outrageously bold. But no Elric had ever been accused of being a coward, at least that he knew of, and Ed just wasn’t the person to pass up on his best chance of getting what he wanted, just because it was rated suicidal by normal standards.
A moment of silent communication passed between the guards, with an aura of clear disapproval radiating from the Xingese party. Just as the panda tore a hole through Ed’s pocket, Barud moved ahead and motioned with his wicked-looking, sub-rate quality automail arm for Ed to follow as one of the shadow guards took up the rear position, leaving gate duty to the other three outside until the rotation of shifts completed.
With no more than a slight exhale of relief at passing the first hurdle and anticipation for the next test, Edward Elric followed his guides through a door that could do with a good maintenance to keep a breeze out, let alone a full barrel attack. Then past the ten square meters of boxes, shelved dark bottles and acid-filled jars that formed the actual apothecary front, which needed dusting to gain some credentials. The small progression made it past the groaning door at the far end of the shop that read in Xingese calligraphy ‘staff only’ and down worn, narrow stairs into the Lion’s Liar.
* * *
Once down the rickety stairs and squeezed - due to the very narrow passage - past the next duo of sharp eyed guards, Ed and the Yao Clan’s first security detail entered a much more up kept, spacious area that for all intents and purposes was decorated like a cheap lounge area.
The underground room was lit with enough multi-coloured lampions to be worthy a setting for the quadrennial Dragon festival, bathing the antechamber in a rainbow of colours and shadows of big cats. Those same shadows did a fairly decent job of cloaking the scratches on the wall, some made by the jab of kunai, others by the arc of long swords and some even covered up the occasional bullet hole. A whiff of incense drifted on the air current from the inner chambers back up the stairs, growing fainter along the way.
The Xingese guard barked a command at both Ed and Barud to stay put and went ahead to inform the Clan Head of their arrival. The only exit lay at their backs, the only way in, another door up ahead. This door was the first hint at what one might find ahead. Painted red and carved with battling dragons that curled around the different elements the Xingese tended to associate with them. The dragons parted as the door opened for the announcer to wave Ed in.
Rolling shoulder blades that had cramped once more with latent tension, Ed marched in. He blinked to adjust to the transition of the multi-coloured dusk to the well-lit room where Lin held his audiences. If Ed wasn’t being allowed further into the clan’s keep, it meant Lin was annoyed at him and there would be some smooth talking to do. Or Ed could just pound the squinty eyed annoyance’s skull in until Lin listened and cut the crap. A much better plan, except for the part where - Right on cue. A shadow shifted, too quick to be natural and then Ed was using all of his flexibility and the durability of his automail to ward off RanFan’s head-on attack. The mini-panda squeaked, leapt from Ed’s ruined coat pocket and got out from underfoot, growling at the ninja girl.
Ed smirked at his opponent. “That eager for some more training, are you?”
RanFan bristled, tone colder than the other times he’d baited her, when she’d been all impulsive, hot-headed fury. “Your game is up. You thought you could betray the Master for that Chang twit and our clan wouldn’t find out?” The rapid slash of one of her kunai missed nicking his neck by a hair, but cut his lucky charm loose. The little lion charm Lin had given him as a mark of trust bounced to the ground; a clear statement of where he stood right now in the eyes of the Yao clan. A turncoat; a dangerous position, to be sure. However, if he could get past her and make Lin to pull his head out of his ass long enough to listen to reason, nothing was lost yet.
Ed wanted to roll his eyes at the whole melodrama. It was clear that RanFan was deadly serious and mortally offended by Ed’s actions. It was such a shame, really. She was such a capable girl at martial arts - not that he’d admit it to her. To lack the needed common sense to balance that skill with good judgement was just sad, really. He parried her next jab at his stomach. “You really need to work on thinking before speaking, if you want to impress your master one day.” And there - just like that she got that bit sloppier; all he needed to gain the upper hand.
Except, when he moved to twist her arm behind her back she had a new trick up her sleeve. Between one blink and the next, Ed went from easy victory to having his back against the wall and a blade at his throat. Huh, maybe she’d learn some sense after all, Ed thought, oddly pleased at that.
“That’s enough, RanFan.” Seated cross-legged on an elevated platform, within a wealth of soft cushions, a pair of Shishi guarding his sides, was Lin Yao. A bratty oddball who needed to learn more respect for his seniors, Ed believed, but who was capable with a blade, a handy, reliable source of information and overall good to have on your side in a skirmish. He also had a tendency to steal the food from another’s plate and - worse - had the entire Yao clan eating out of his hand like he was the second coming of the Sage of the West. This might have had something to do with the fact that he was the sole heir of their prominent clan on Amestrian soil and upheld aristocratic decorum when Clan Law called for it. Like at that very moment.
“I want to hear Edward’s reasons for associating with another clan,” Lin clarified and Ed found the prince’s unusual seriousness jarring, “which all present here know is frowned upon.” That was putting it mildly, considering all the accusations flying around. All hail the mighty Lin, emperor of general understatements and skilled at diffusing certain volatile situations. “The one you’ve accused needs to be breathing to plead his case, Daughter of my Kinsmen.” Even knowing Lin could be serious, it still made Ed blink when the boy-proclaimed-clan-leader slipped into the hierarchic dialect of Xingese.
RanFan looked like she understood her sworn lord’s wish, but remained stubbornly outraged at Ed on Lin’s behalf. “Master of Me and Mine, you can’t let such a traitor live! Our teachings-”
“Are always open for interpretation. Clan tradition, as you state, is important and must be upheld, or improved upon. I refuse to lose a valuable friend over accusation without having reviewed all evidence.”
Even if he didn’t admit it Ed could acknowledge that, whatever other faults Lin may have, he was a decent guy when all was said and done. For that reason, Ed treated him like an equal, which always amused Lin and had his clan up in arms at the outward ‘disrespect’. One would think they’d grow used to it, but it would seem those sticks were planted deep and firmly in the mud.
Skipping the formality and solemnity of the situation, Ed spoke to Lin as he always had - without any deference - and ignored the guards, who stood ready to disembowel him at the first hint of an order to do so. Ed told Lin straight out that he had no choice but to try and get the Chang girl to help him: to restore Al they needed a permanent way around the crippling state barnacles. Ed had at the time exhausted his national leads in alchemy. Roaming about in Xing Town, one would eventually hear whispers about Alkahestry.
Edward had, but as the Yao clan had never bothered with Alkahestry, beyond how their warriors were taught to feel the flow of qi - natural energy - in their surroundings, they were - as Ed put it bluntly - rubbish at it and he’d hunted down the first capable person who wasn’t averse to teaching him. It had taken some months, but where Ed had been flat out refused, Al’s charm saved the day and eventually the May girl of the Chang, who wielded the Purification Arts with the ease of a master, agreed to help her new crush.
That had been about four months ago. They’d met up a few times - mostly on neutral territory, a few times within the Chang Quarter, but always in a different location. May had sworn the one bodyguard she couldn’t shake off to secrecy. Open association with Al and Ed would perilous at best: primarily because her mother - and their entire clan with her - would disapprove on principle, and especially when May discovered Ed was on friendly terms with the arrogant prince of the Yao clan. An outsider who formed an alliance with one clan could not associate with another, unless given specific order or permission by his primary, adoptive clan to do so. Breaking this law was considered high treason by the clans, but May understood the brothers’ reason for going against their law, once Al explained some of the details to her. As such, both parties deemed it wise to keep these educational seminars under wraps. The princess and Al - and, by extension Ed - were only scraping the most basic principles of Alkahestry when May had brought up the Dragon’s Pulse fundament. From there on, theorizing had proceeded into the first small practical applications.
It was mostly Al who did the learning for the pair of them, primarily because Al wasn’t hindered in working alchemy when he and May tried for comparison of the two branches of the science, but also because Ed and May’s personalities just didn’t mesh well. Ed had discovered the additional benefits Alkahestry had to offer him purely by accident when messing around with it one day himself, instead of letting Alphonse doing everything alchemy related. The latter was a modus operandi the great nation of Amestris had unwittingly forced on the brothers. The physical restraints placed upon the handful of exceptional alchemists left ‘free’ to wander around in society were coded to each and every individual alchemist. The bracelets (or in Ed’s case: brace- and anklet) were primarily linked to their minds to override potential acts with an end result in destruction, which then meant it was automatically cued into the body said mind was part of. And lastly, out of pure necessity, to the final part of the trinity, because the soul is tethered to said mind and body.
When Ed had, almost four years past, at last been vouched for by Mustang - and hadn’t the bastard taken his sweet time after Ed’s recapture - his and Alphonse’s prowess in alchemy had marked them prime candidates for such a control system. Ed’s - their - release into the Hughes’s minding care, had only gotten government approval due to the condition of the precautionary Security Restriction. The ankle and wrist cuff had naturally been programmed to Edward, as none of the scientists working on the operation knew about Alphonse and none would clue the good doctors in to that fact.
The restriction worked flawlessly on Ed, who chaffed at the hefty imposed limitations. Naturally, Ed immediately tried everything he could think of to rid himself of the bothersome devices. It did not take long at all to find out that with the cuffs alchemically tethered to his body, trying to remove them by normal means resulted in severe electroshocks to the nervous system. For Ed, this metaphorical slap on the wrist had the potential to overload the wiring of his automail limbs. In his first year as a free operative, Ed had been forced to make more appointments with his cranky mechanic as a result of fried wire feedback than for any inflicted external damage or wear. Yet through this hazardous method of experimentation, Ed did find out one fruitful loophole, insofar as that when it was Al’s soul in control of the body, the device failed to register any alchemy performed as being executed by the triple compound of Ed’s mind, body and soul. Unfortunately, this did not entirely solve the brothers’ problem. The masterminds behind the invention had worked another fail safe into their equations. Having an active link to Ed’s mind and body, any attempts at alchemic destruction of the restraints from an outside alchemic source involved lethal risk to the wearer, in the form of more violent destructive shocks to the system. To date, only the makers of the device could deactivate and remove it by unanimous government sanction; hence the occurrence was all but unheard of. That didn’t stop the brothers from wanting to discover another way.
Being both adapt and able to use alchemy, Alphonse was an invaluable resource to ACIS - the unspoken yet ultimately deciding factor in their release sanction. The Armstrong family connections may have been dented after the Civil War, but they neither bent nor broke. As an added bonus, by assigning Riza Hawkeye as the boy’s handler, Olivia Armstrong had the absolute guarantee that Mustang would keep a close eye on the boy. The ironclad game plan. In the end, the arrangement ended up beneficial for Al and by extension Ed, too, who otherwise would not have had the opportunity to explore and learn as much as he did while on missions with Riza. That was not to say that their situation was ideal. The boys had a valid reason in their urgency to restore Alphonse’s soul to his own lost body. The human body was made to house only the soul that belonged to it. The earliest philosophers of ancient times, eons before the forming of the great kingdoms, tried to explain this phenomenon with many different ideas. The most well-known of those theories was that the body, mind and soul all together form one single self-sufficient existence; an existence which can only be truly alive when all these elements function in sync. By cramming in a second shred of a whole entity, as Ed had done, he put additional strain on both his own mind and body, which, in turn, increased the risk of said body eventually rejecting the much similar, yet not native, soul. Another, less significant side-effect of this mash-up was their shared, and often warped, ability of the mind to store memories. With tethers to two, some memories unintentionally carried over from one mind to the other. Add to that how Alphonse’s logic and associative brainwave patterns, as his own individual, had been fundamentally different from Edward’s. With the body sharing, Al’s different thought patterns tried to follow the same route through Ed’s brain, which was wired to another style of thought pattern. The fluke not only resulted in frequent headaches - induced by Edward’s brain trying to reroute itself frequently - and additional the fragmented shards of memory his mind would gain at random intervals, but also that either some of Al’s or even his own memories would randomly be stored only in Alphonse’s psyche. In short, it left Al often with too much input, occasionally bordering on an existentiality crisis, and Ed with a patchwork quilt of recollections.
Lin waited, expression neutral and posture rigid, while Ed said his piece. “And after all that you still seek my aid?”
Ed almost snarled. Had the idiot really not been listening? “I need everything your eyes on the ground have heard about this increase in chimera attacks, especially about the last one, the full details.” He scratched the back of his head, warily. “Depending on what we learn from that, I might need a way to get out of town undetected to go snake hunting. More than that, I need you to stop wasting our time with this whole judgemental thing and just have my back as my friend, you stupid, spoilt-”
He could have rambled on for quite a bit, mortally offended guards or not, had Lin not interrupted him, his pleased smile finally making an appearance on that previously oddly stoic face. “I’ve heard enough. Though your methods were wrong, your reasons and goals were not of treasonous intent. The accusations against you have now been heard and dropped.” The shutters on his good natured expression came up again to utter one more warning. “This will not happen again. The next time you have no choice but to ally yourself with one of the other clans, you ask my permission.” Ed opened his mouth to retort, but Lin bulled ahead. “Remember, you pledged your allegiance to me first. You are one of mine and I take care of my own. This is non-negotiable.”
Only when Ed nodded, mulishly silent, did the guards back up a few steps and RanFan’s dagger was no longer poised at his jugular. The girl also reluctantly handed Ed back his protection charm.
Lin clapped his hands once, all cheer once more. Ed could almost appreciate the irony: and people called him bipolar. “Let’s retire to the lounge, have something to eat and discuss business. I heard a passing-through band of one of Edison’s arms smugglers are heading west tonight…”
Illustration by
seta_suzume
>>> NEXT <<<
Genre: Divergence, Mystery, Family
Summary: Mangaverse, divergence. Central City 1910 - 1916. Political upheaval has restructured the proud nation of Amestris to a blooming democracy, where the art of alchemy is no longer glorified, but monitored for the distrust it has sown. In this obstructive climate, Roy Mustang’s investigative team must track down a familiar face, for ties to a brutal homicide case.
Rating: T
Word count: 30.000+
Spoilers: mild spoilers for everything, which includes the new movie
Disclaimer: Everything FMA belongs to Arakawa & BONES.
Warnings: minor character deaths, bit of cussing, some gore (crime scene, not much you can do about it.)
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PREVIOUS
PART 3
Wednesday, April 07 1916, 21:05 Central City - Regent’s Park
“You know, Boss.” Jean paused to light up another cigarette. “Normally, right about now, all of us could have been at Riza’s party. I would have scored a hot date.” He hid a grimace at his latest track record of dates with a deep inhale of nicotine. “Or at least been getting pissed drunk. This better be good.”
Of course, Jean knew it would be. Mustang wouldn’t have made them all cancel on Riza for less than necessity. But the ribbing worked to get some agitation and nerves out of his system. Though Jean claimed pride in his field proficiency, after normal working hours he still preferred an uncomfortable desk chair to the cold, damp wooden park bench that would render his butt numb before the off-the-record meeting was completed.
“Haven’t you been complaining about too much desk work, Havoc?” Mustang asked rhetorically. “I’m getting tired of the petty griping,” It never failed to impress Jean how many layers of different meanings his boss could lay into a single, at face value ordinary sentence. “So you’ll leave on a retrieval mission at first light.” Oh, this was going to be really good then. Now Jean just needed to see how all the puzzle pieces fit together, but then that was what this outing had been designed for.
In order to keep the Director out of the loop for the first crucial hours of the investigation - trying for any longer was an exercise in naive delusion - Mustang had opted to hold the first team debriefing away from I.A.’s big ears and on neutral ground. A security risk in and of itself, but one the boss seemed willing to take for once.
Hence, Roy just happened to pass the park as he went out of his way to buy the newspaper evening edition from the street vendor at the southwest park entrance.
Jean liked to stretch his legs after a busy day, especially one as stressful as the latest developments were shaping this one to be. And what better place to unwind than the slowly emptying park?
Everyone within their department knew that, when she could spare the time, Riza preferred to walk Black Hayate in the park during the evenings. Of course she halted to civilly greet her co-workers once she bumped into Jean and their boss.
From there it could almost be construed as coincidence that Breda’s favourite hotdog stand was stationed not too far away from the newspaper man. Hughes joined them within twenty minutes, after having rushed home to see to it that his wife and daughter were at least safe and sound and to give Gracia some emergency instructions. If he and Mustang normally would meet up inside a café, well, then, it only made sense to disrupt that routine now.
With the direct subordinates gathered ‘round the now crowded park bench - either sitting, shuffling as far away from the dog while still within hearing range or simply leaning close - Mustang briefed them on their progress.
“There are some angles to our new priority case that you should all be made aware of. Normally, the higher-ups and I would have wanted to avoid this step, but the circumstances are changing.”
Jean connected the unspoken dots, but Breda beat him to the punch line. “This case touches upon a Covert Op.”
His boss gave him a look of approval at the quick thinking. “It does. First, however, I want to hear what everyone has dug up so far. Whether the information was gathered on the need to know side of the field,” Jean wasn’t all that surprised when the boss deliberately glanced at Riza. Jean knew of her past involvement in at least two off the record jobs. That Mustang next looked at Hughes was hardly unexpected. Maes and Riza were the closest to the boss out of the lot of them, they were practically his family. “Or otherwise.”
Jean looked at his buddy with a feeling of commiseration. At least Breda had been operating in the dark too. Jean would have felt just a little hurt and a lot like the odd man out otherwise. He knew he was being unreasonable. Jean fully comprehended the importance of need to know cases, with the sometimes sensitive field ops he himself was regularly sent on. Still, this was different; this was something that somehow involved their team directly. No use dwelling on it, but as if was he hardly had collected enough relevant information to get the ball rolling. Fortunately, Breda was willing to help out in that department.
“I suppose, having been the first on the scene, we should start with initial observations. Feel free to interrupt with your more informed interpretation any time.” The last bit was neutrally directed at Riza, who only nodded in reply. “By the time we arrived at the scene, an ambulance was already gearing up to transport Miss Chang, the only survivor to the hospital. Clearly, someone had made the call before our arrival. I highly doubt any of Chang’s own people did so; they seem like a close-knit group, suspicious of outsiders. Those few people who agreed to speak to us of course had neither seen nor heard anything. Any potential witnesses on their part are a dead end.” Breda’s tone at the last part was saturated with disgruntled sarcasm.
The chief nodded. “The clans prefer to deal with any of their own internally, in accordance with their traditions. These include healing, homicide and cooperation with our domestic authorities. Whoever alerted the hospital, it had to have been an outsider. This also implies they were either skilled enough to avoid being thrown out of clan restricted territory, or more likely, tolerated there.”
Jean flicked the butt of his cigarette away. “Isn’t that a rare thing? Those Xingese immigrants strike me as a bunch of paranoia stiffs.”
Mustang continued without acknowledging or denying the slight. “It’s true that not many people can boast clan protection. Additionally, the nearest phone booth would be the central market square. The caller would have to have witnessed the crime first hand, been allowed to escape by the clans and then run to make the call. This, combined with DNA found on the scene, leads us to suspect Edward Elric. Miss Chang gave us a preliminary witness statement, but we’ll have to cross-reference her testimonial of events with Edward’s.”
Jean had followed the boss’s logic up until the part where the Elric name popped up. He turned his bewilderment on Hughes. “What on earth does your brat-through-paperwork want with the Xingese on their private turf? Doesn’t sound like he just got lost to me.”
Hughes looked offended by Jean’s implication, but someone had to say it.
Breda piped up to diffuse the mounting tension, addressing all three agents in the know. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with what you had me look into in 1910 and the Alchemist Restriction Act?”
Riza cleared her throat. “Accurately observed. I’ll be frank about my own semi-involvement in our current situation. For the past few years, about a year since the start-up of our agency, I have been partnering up on scouting missions. The parameters were intelligence, recruitment and detainment. These errands took us mostly to the west and south in order to prevent new altercations in the border towns.” Her tone was neutral - slipping into military mode again, Jean recognised - as she gave a concise summary.
Briefly fooled, Jean jumped to the most obvious conclusion, momentarily derailed by the apparent change of subject. “Cut us some slack next time, Chief. Here we all are worried that you’re so uptight because you’re seeing less of Hawkeye, when you’re really seeing her more than anyone else?”
Breda nudged Jean. “That wouldn’t work if the boss’s every move is still watched. Unless you got rid of both the watchdogs and your impairment without informing us?” That was directed straight at Roy, who scowled and twisted his left hand around his right wrist. Long sleeves, a thick coat and his signature gloves effective hid the State’s detaining wristbands from sight.
Oh, the reorganised R&D department had been obliged to modify Mustang’s cuffs, giving him some measure of leeway. Even those morons set on castrating the alchemy out of anyone ‘not approved’, especially with the State Alchemist programme disbanded, realised that completely crippling Amestris’ only fire oriented alchemist could come to bite them in the ass one day, given all the lethal situations Amestris still faced internally and at its borders. Thus, Roy could still cause some severe burns on an enemy or roast a man’s eyeballs or their tongue. But he would be hard pressed to lethally injure one person, let alone a dozen or more. With the state’s failsafe in place, another Ishbal wouldn’t happen without explicit sanction from the entire democracy. Or rather from said democracy’s conservative representatives.
Riza got them back on track with a sharp look. “My partner on these cases is the one competent alchemist, who purely by chance manages to fool the State’s alchemic dampening system, and whom I trust to enough to cooperate and follow my lead. Breda was correct in his earlier conclusions.” Riza favoured at the man in question with an upward twists of her lips. “Your assessment is valid. Both you and Jean have even met this person on a few occasions. He is Alphonse Elric, except the two of you just know him as Edward.”
That gave both Jean and even fast on the uptake Breda pause. Jean was the first to object. “Hang on a sec. That doesn’t add up in so many ways.”
Hughes shared a long look with Mustang and cleared his throat. “I think I should explain, before we proceed on our findings of today. You see-” He cut himself off suddenly and tensed, hand reaching his hidden throw knife at the same time as Black Hayate’s ears perked up. The entire team readied themselves as the dog’s hackles rose.
Two slim figures emerged slowly from the falling night and joined the gathering. The one in lead position didn’t even need to flash his Central Intelligence ID for them to recognise him. Dressed in an immaculate white suit, Solf Kimblee tipped his fedora to them.
“Oh, please, don’t stop on our account. The Bureau is most eager to hear more about this matter. So, interested are we in fact, that we are proposing a liaison on this particular case.” Kimblee’s smile, though sincere, was sharp enough to cut glace.
Hughes had stiffened and looked ready to skewer the former Red Lotus Alchemist at the first wrong move. Riza was still calm and collected, one of her guns held loosely at her side. Breda on the other hand, seemed to be the only person who focussed more of his attention on Kimblee’s attachée. Personally, Jean wouldn’t mind knocking that superior expression off Kimblee’s mug and couldn’t be bothered observing the ass’s sidekick for longer than a split second. While aware of his potential mistake, Jean preferred to keep his eye on the sociopath he knew to be a treacherous, backstabbing bastard and take his chances with the at first glance harmless looking unknown.
The boss seemed unaffected by Kimblee proposal annex threat. “While I’m flattered you think so highly of me in chain of command, such requests should be presented to Director Armstrong. It is a matter that goes beyond my meagre jurisdiction.”
Kimblee didn’t even bat an eyelid, an ominous sign. “Ah, Flame, surely you don’t think me such a simpleton? I made sure to obtain your director’s approval prior to this friendly get-together.” The mood took a turn awards grim on Team Mustang’s side. Kimblee wasn’t done rubbing salt in the freshly sit wound yet. “She has also promised me her employees’ full cooperation.” He paused, expectant. “I see you’ve got a better poker face since the war. Never worry, Mustang, you won’t have to work with me.”
Now the attention shift towards Kimblee’s partner was collective. Kimblee adjusted the cuffs of his suit. “Gentlemen and lady, as you’ve so brilliantly deduced, this skilled young lady will be CIA’s liaison for this mission. Don’t let her age deceive you; Miss Rockbell is this year’s most skilled of our new sworn in. For the moment, her priority lies in discretely apprehending and safely returning Edward Elric for questioning. You might want to reconsider any qualms you had about this arrangement.”
The boss wasn’t convinced, but slightly more inclined towards negotiation. “Because you claim our interest to be aligned?”
Kimblee shrugged. “Perhaps so. However, you are operating under outdated orders, Mustang.”
Mustang’s bearing shifted subtly from defensive to offensive. “Do enlighten me.”
Kimblee adopted an air of mock disappointment. “Shouldn’t you of all people know better than to try and work around the Ice Queen? Clearly she hasn’t kept you on a short enough leash, for you to forget your quite insignificant place in the grander scheme of politics.”
The Red Lotus Alchemist took in Team Mustang’s apprehensive stance and directed most of his attention to the young woman at his side. “And that, my dear, is how you play an uncooperative audience to get their undivided attention.”
He raised his hands in mock applause, when a distant booming sound scattered the oppressive silence. “My, that does sound like an excellent distraction, if our snitch was correct. If you’ll excuse me, I think I shall look into the cause. It is after all my specialty.” With another tip of his wide brimmed hat, Kimblee turned and started walking.
“Thank you all for your cooperation. Please remember that as our liaison, Miss Rockbells only has to answer to your director, Mustang, and none other.” So confident was Kimblee of his superior position that he showed them only his back as he slid in the none-too-subtle warning. “I must take my leave and let you fill Miss Rockbell in on any pertinent details regarding the Elric case for a speedy rescue.”
Hughes spared Mustang from having to call after the man. “Oi, Kimblee, what are you on about a ‘rescue’?”
Kimblee’s normally dull eyes flickered briefly with a small measure of cold amusement as he looked back over his shoulder. “Ah, yes, none of you would have heard yet, would you? Director Armstrong feels strongly about potential traitors in her own troops. The one sent out to retrieve Elric won’t be one of your trusted pawns, Mustang. I believe the Director delegated that assignment in your team’s absence to one of those Ishvalans she likes to keep around. They are not exactly known for bringing many rogues in alive now, are they?” Kimblee waved a hand farewell at them as he walked under the next lamppost, the sleeve of his suit slipping back to reveal his bare wrist as he sauntered back into the falling night.
Illustration by seta_suzume
Wednesday, April 07, 18:31 - Central City - Eastern District - Xing Town - West End
To any Amestrian who didn’t harbour the immigrated Xingese outward hostility or ill will, the markets and boutiques that formed the hotspot of Xing Town were a real treat to visit. Lively music played on busy squares. You couldn’t walk fifteen yards on the main streets without encountering some exotic food stall - the tiny dishes still sizzling to attract the random passer-by - and the sweet, strong aroma of spices used and sold drifted on the air currents all day and most of the night. To complete the experience, a fair number of merchants liked to dress up in traditional garb to draw the eye of potential customers - Central City folk and tourists alike.
Overall, the commercial front was a peaceful affair. Any Amestrian troublemaker, who wasn’t just a harmless drunk, would be escorted to the edge of the district with minimal fuss - the benefit of having swords, daggers, bombs and who knew what else on hand - by the local neighbourhood watchmen. If the one stirring up unrest was one of their own, that person would be led before his or her clan leader to be straightened out.
Fair enough, tension ran high between the more important clans, but those affairs were mostly kept to their own turf, as much away from the prying eyes of the ignorant city natives as was manageable. In those areas, very tensions and daggers sparked as they clashed in the evening and during the night. Clan symbols were worn liberally by inhabitants and their permanent visitors to stake their right to walk certain back alleys without finding a dagger at their throat two steps in, as well as flaunt the protection of certain clans for all watchdogs to observe.
Normally, no Amestrian except for nosy police forces, who didn’t know when not to meddle in foreign affairs, or people walking the darker paths of life, roamed those areas. Still, rumors of the clans’ supposed brutality spread as they were wont to do. A bad reputation was easily cultivated from there on out. Better that the ignorant Amestrians feared yet respected the clans, than take up arms of mass destruction and try to eliminate the foreigners through genocide. If nothing else, it cautioned the sensible civilians to keep to the impressive commercial hub of Xing Town. Just around the block from the main road you might find, if you knew where to look, the smallest specialty shops that catered exclusively to their own, except for those wealthy few who had experience in matters conducted under-the-counter.
The majority of the regular shops had closed down for the day, but the food stalls and restaurants were just catching the first wave of night time patrons. Conversation and music flared out into the street whenever their doors opened for new clientele, but not even the appetising waft of grilled fish and meat slowed down one lonesome fair haired youth. He strode past the activity in a sightless rush and took to the off-limits back alleys of Xing Town with a determined step that pointed to either utter disregard of danger to his person, familiarity with the territory, or both.
Edward tugged a Xingese lion charm - to the clans a symbol of protection from the Yao Clan specifically, and a sign of auspiciousness in general - on a leather string out from under his black shirt to bounce on his chest, over his heart, as he continued his trek into perilous territory. The metal of the charm caught the light of the sunset while he jogged on, as he knew it would. After all, it wouldn’t do to be gutted on Lin’s doorstep, just for neglecting to claim sanctuary before one of the two guards shadowing him decided to take more lethal pre-emptive action.
Edward’s detour to the market square outside Xing Town and then the long way back in through the tourist catering Fuujin main street and ‘round the back into Yao territory, while avoiding Chang turf and all the attention it might by now have garnered from Amestris’ prime - and also local, less stellar - investigative forces.
A squeaking sound from his right hand caused Ed to briefly divert his attention. Poking out from between a dark leather gloved fist was a tiny, furry head with teeth. The blasted evil panda was still clamping down on his automail thumb with vigour. “You must be even more stupid than I thought: you can chew all you want, it’s never going to hurt.”
He should have just left the simple, tiny mammal to be gobbled up by the chimeras that took down Dorchette before a proper fight could even break out, once the main beast was death and just run for it sooner. Ed was confident the snake woman would have followed him; after all he seemed to be their target, May and her tiny entourage just unlucky bystanders. Wrong time, wrong place. Except there had been no guarantee the mini-panda’s death would have been safe on its own. Should the little pest of a wild mammal turned pet get lost or murdered by a cranky alley cat, then that would have left May even more heart broken than the demise of a guard she valued as a person and… And what was he even doing getting involved in all this shit?
Ed wanted answers. Find out why someone had sent a bunch of chimeras - the successfully created human chimera had been a shocker, both to him and the beangirl - after him. He wasn’t all that special or important. Nor was Al, not really. Not in the grander scheme of things. Certainly not in the way you would expect when talking hit jobs and kidnapping attempts. Ed also, quite desperately wanted to figure out exactly what about their latest Alkahestry attempt during said skirmish had caused Al’s soul anchor to go haywire. May would probably work up a new theory about Al’s seal and the xue-qi she was convinced had been an elemental part of the alchemy Ed had used to forge the bond.
This prediction meant he needed to go knock on Lin’s door for the information. Likely none other in Xing Town but the Yao clan leader would be willing first and foremost and able to help them besides. Ed needed all the facts he could possibly get on who had orchestrated that chimera attack, it had been too methodical. From what brief exchange he’d had with the snake chimera, she didn’t look like the type on a personal vendetta. Which meant someone else was pulling the strings and Ed wanted to be the one of beat the crap out of whatever new bad in town was behind it. That information he could under other circumstances easily get if ACIS were to assign him and Riza the case. This time there was a guarantee they wouldn’t, due to his close involvement. They’d focus on his own pesky personal details that didn’t matter and would lose the trail in doing so. He’d be lucky if they didn’t lock him up for some time for good measure. No way could he let that happen.
The shadow of a third guard flitted even closer from the roof of the low building on his left. In reaction, different alchemic circles took shape in his mind - all the right essential principles, angles and elemental runes for protection and counterattack. The instinctive urge to craft a weapon grew, until the perfect array hummed in his mind. As a precaution, Ed dropped the squirming, hostile panda into his wide jacket pocket, so his hands were free. His fingers touched to form the circle on physical plane in preparation to fight back, without his conscious command even as he ran on, ready to whirl around and lay in to his pursuers with a vengeance.
A shock of overriding pain from his left wrist and right ankle disrupted his intense focus on the mathematical equation. Ed cursed his own distracted oversight and the State’s paranoiac disciplinary measures. ‘Damn those backwards weaklings and their idiotic contraptions.’
Resignation bubbled from a special corner of his mind to cool his temper. Along with that emotion came the cherished, though often annoying, voice only he could hear, echoing through his head. -‘Either use Alkahestry or let me fight, Ed.’- Still twitching muscled tensed up again keenly.
“And let you have all the fun again? I don’t think so.” Ed might grumble, but he was more relieved than anything that Al had quickly regained consciousness. Now they just had to figure out what had messed things up in the first place. A flash of memory, related to the ones Ed had been grasping at moments before, overrode his disquiet. It was a slightly older recollection Ed felt only distantly familiar with. He recalled May talking animatedly to Alphonse about the Dragon’s Pulse. The fundament of Alkahestry could provide a possible method to disrupt - theoretically without too much bodily and mental risk - the disabling State devices that confined most of his alchemy. It could be a notionally effective way to ultimately render the monitoring, disciplinary ankle- and wristbands useless.
That was his and Al’s most immediate objective, as it would give Ed that much more leeway in the practical application of alchemy in everyday life and self-defence - a promise of real freedom after all these restrictions. In the long-term state of things, it paved the way for a true fix to Al’s situation, should the Purification Arts turn out to be the nth false lead. But it would all be futile, if Ed couldn’t find out, fast, how this damned Dragon’s Pulse had fucked up the soul bond and undo it. He could only hope that his very limited - almost useless - knowledge of Alkahestry would keep registering with the cuffs as ‘not-alchemy’ and thus remain unrestricted. Otherwise, Ed would truly be powerless again should Al have another spell and Ed didn’t even know for sure if this sudden flux was something he could safely interfere with, or if it would keep resolving itself, like the last time they’d been in a similar bind.
Ed rounded another now too-quiet street corner, brooding over the fact that he didn’t have much to show in way of progress over the last couple of years. In fact, this new fiasco might even make him regress to being chased down by Mustang’s team and he really didn’t want to go through that whole humiliation again. Worse, unlike last time, even though they were practically adults, he and Al now actually had people waiting on them to come home tonight and be let down.
Before the dark mood could comfortably curl around Ed’s dreary thoughts, reassurance that wasn’t his own flooded part of his senses and relaxed some of his tense muscles. -‘Stop worrying, Brother. We’ll find the answers and they’ll forgive us. We’ll work something out.’-
Another person’s optimism is so much harder to ignore when - more than just hearing a pep talk - that person can actively project positive feelings onto your own. ‘Yes, we will. And you’re sitting this one out until we have our answers. You’re not fainting on me again, you sissy.’
-‘And to think you call me overbearing, you ass.’- Shaking his head fondly at Al’s light-hearted retort, Ed forced himself to focus only on the present and on the gate guards coming into view. Not that there was a gate to the small building masquerading as one of many tiny apothecaries, but the bouncers took their job seriously enough to mistake them for the elite royal guards of Lin’s fanciful, and - Ed suspected - often liberally exaggerated tales of his home - a small palace with two temples - and not well known homeland.
Ed slowed his pace to a fast walk, but remained completely nonchalant in the face of the looming form of the sole Amestrian stationed at the side entrance and the coiled grace of the Xingese watchmen to form a living doorway, as well as his three now openly closing in shadows at his back.
Skipping the common courtesy of greeting the slit-eyed gatekeeper first, Ed deliberately ignored the others and addressed his fellow automail equipped countrymen first. “Keeping those gears oiled, Barud? I’ve got no time for games tonight; just tell the royal asshole I need a favour, pronto.” The rolled up wad of hard-earned cenz crinkled in his left hand as he handed them over to the muscular man, who made his tacky eye patch look good.
Everyone who knew anything about the former leader of the terrorist group Blue Squad could tell you the most efficient deals with him were made through generous monetary transactions. Even if the long haired man had clearly never been the brightest kid at school, he could get simple thug jobs done effectively enough for the Yao clan to employ his services. Barud would have taken a well-paying task and figured he’d try his luck with another clan, if he didn’t like the outcome, except the Amestrian had quickly been shown the error of his ways by his new boss. You did not walk away from the Clan you’d served once the deed was done. Loyalty meant the world to the Xingese and even an outsider - once vouched for by one clan - did not just go taking jobs from other families, no matter how well they offered to pay. Whatever united front they presented to the middle and upper-class outside world, clan secrets were jealously guarded. This, of course, also meant that Ed’s current move was outrageously bold. But no Elric had ever been accused of being a coward, at least that he knew of, and Ed just wasn’t the person to pass up on his best chance of getting what he wanted, just because it was rated suicidal by normal standards.
A moment of silent communication passed between the guards, with an aura of clear disapproval radiating from the Xingese party. Just as the panda tore a hole through Ed’s pocket, Barud moved ahead and motioned with his wicked-looking, sub-rate quality automail arm for Ed to follow as one of the shadow guards took up the rear position, leaving gate duty to the other three outside until the rotation of shifts completed.
With no more than a slight exhale of relief at passing the first hurdle and anticipation for the next test, Edward Elric followed his guides through a door that could do with a good maintenance to keep a breeze out, let alone a full barrel attack. Then past the ten square meters of boxes, shelved dark bottles and acid-filled jars that formed the actual apothecary front, which needed dusting to gain some credentials. The small progression made it past the groaning door at the far end of the shop that read in Xingese calligraphy ‘staff only’ and down worn, narrow stairs into the Lion’s Liar.
* * *
Once down the rickety stairs and squeezed - due to the very narrow passage - past the next duo of sharp eyed guards, Ed and the Yao Clan’s first security detail entered a much more up kept, spacious area that for all intents and purposes was decorated like a cheap lounge area.
The underground room was lit with enough multi-coloured lampions to be worthy a setting for the quadrennial Dragon festival, bathing the antechamber in a rainbow of colours and shadows of big cats. Those same shadows did a fairly decent job of cloaking the scratches on the wall, some made by the jab of kunai, others by the arc of long swords and some even covered up the occasional bullet hole. A whiff of incense drifted on the air current from the inner chambers back up the stairs, growing fainter along the way.
The Xingese guard barked a command at both Ed and Barud to stay put and went ahead to inform the Clan Head of their arrival. The only exit lay at their backs, the only way in, another door up ahead. This door was the first hint at what one might find ahead. Painted red and carved with battling dragons that curled around the different elements the Xingese tended to associate with them. The dragons parted as the door opened for the announcer to wave Ed in.
Rolling shoulder blades that had cramped once more with latent tension, Ed marched in. He blinked to adjust to the transition of the multi-coloured dusk to the well-lit room where Lin held his audiences. If Ed wasn’t being allowed further into the clan’s keep, it meant Lin was annoyed at him and there would be some smooth talking to do. Or Ed could just pound the squinty eyed annoyance’s skull in until Lin listened and cut the crap. A much better plan, except for the part where - Right on cue. A shadow shifted, too quick to be natural and then Ed was using all of his flexibility and the durability of his automail to ward off RanFan’s head-on attack. The mini-panda squeaked, leapt from Ed’s ruined coat pocket and got out from underfoot, growling at the ninja girl.
Ed smirked at his opponent. “That eager for some more training, are you?”
RanFan bristled, tone colder than the other times he’d baited her, when she’d been all impulsive, hot-headed fury. “Your game is up. You thought you could betray the Master for that Chang twit and our clan wouldn’t find out?” The rapid slash of one of her kunai missed nicking his neck by a hair, but cut his lucky charm loose. The little lion charm Lin had given him as a mark of trust bounced to the ground; a clear statement of where he stood right now in the eyes of the Yao clan. A turncoat; a dangerous position, to be sure. However, if he could get past her and make Lin to pull his head out of his ass long enough to listen to reason, nothing was lost yet.
Ed wanted to roll his eyes at the whole melodrama. It was clear that RanFan was deadly serious and mortally offended by Ed’s actions. It was such a shame, really. She was such a capable girl at martial arts - not that he’d admit it to her. To lack the needed common sense to balance that skill with good judgement was just sad, really. He parried her next jab at his stomach. “You really need to work on thinking before speaking, if you want to impress your master one day.” And there - just like that she got that bit sloppier; all he needed to gain the upper hand.
Except, when he moved to twist her arm behind her back she had a new trick up her sleeve. Between one blink and the next, Ed went from easy victory to having his back against the wall and a blade at his throat. Huh, maybe she’d learn some sense after all, Ed thought, oddly pleased at that.
“That’s enough, RanFan.” Seated cross-legged on an elevated platform, within a wealth of soft cushions, a pair of Shishi guarding his sides, was Lin Yao. A bratty oddball who needed to learn more respect for his seniors, Ed believed, but who was capable with a blade, a handy, reliable source of information and overall good to have on your side in a skirmish. He also had a tendency to steal the food from another’s plate and - worse - had the entire Yao clan eating out of his hand like he was the second coming of the Sage of the West. This might have had something to do with the fact that he was the sole heir of their prominent clan on Amestrian soil and upheld aristocratic decorum when Clan Law called for it. Like at that very moment.
“I want to hear Edward’s reasons for associating with another clan,” Lin clarified and Ed found the prince’s unusual seriousness jarring, “which all present here know is frowned upon.” That was putting it mildly, considering all the accusations flying around. All hail the mighty Lin, emperor of general understatements and skilled at diffusing certain volatile situations. “The one you’ve accused needs to be breathing to plead his case, Daughter of my Kinsmen.” Even knowing Lin could be serious, it still made Ed blink when the boy-proclaimed-clan-leader slipped into the hierarchic dialect of Xingese.
RanFan looked like she understood her sworn lord’s wish, but remained stubbornly outraged at Ed on Lin’s behalf. “Master of Me and Mine, you can’t let such a traitor live! Our teachings-”
“Are always open for interpretation. Clan tradition, as you state, is important and must be upheld, or improved upon. I refuse to lose a valuable friend over accusation without having reviewed all evidence.”
Even if he didn’t admit it Ed could acknowledge that, whatever other faults Lin may have, he was a decent guy when all was said and done. For that reason, Ed treated him like an equal, which always amused Lin and had his clan up in arms at the outward ‘disrespect’. One would think they’d grow used to it, but it would seem those sticks were planted deep and firmly in the mud.
Skipping the formality and solemnity of the situation, Ed spoke to Lin as he always had - without any deference - and ignored the guards, who stood ready to disembowel him at the first hint of an order to do so. Ed told Lin straight out that he had no choice but to try and get the Chang girl to help him: to restore Al they needed a permanent way around the crippling state barnacles. Ed had at the time exhausted his national leads in alchemy. Roaming about in Xing Town, one would eventually hear whispers about Alkahestry.
Edward had, but as the Yao clan had never bothered with Alkahestry, beyond how their warriors were taught to feel the flow of qi - natural energy - in their surroundings, they were - as Ed put it bluntly - rubbish at it and he’d hunted down the first capable person who wasn’t averse to teaching him. It had taken some months, but where Ed had been flat out refused, Al’s charm saved the day and eventually the May girl of the Chang, who wielded the Purification Arts with the ease of a master, agreed to help her new crush.
That had been about four months ago. They’d met up a few times - mostly on neutral territory, a few times within the Chang Quarter, but always in a different location. May had sworn the one bodyguard she couldn’t shake off to secrecy. Open association with Al and Ed would perilous at best: primarily because her mother - and their entire clan with her - would disapprove on principle, and especially when May discovered Ed was on friendly terms with the arrogant prince of the Yao clan. An outsider who formed an alliance with one clan could not associate with another, unless given specific order or permission by his primary, adoptive clan to do so. Breaking this law was considered high treason by the clans, but May understood the brothers’ reason for going against their law, once Al explained some of the details to her. As such, both parties deemed it wise to keep these educational seminars under wraps. The princess and Al - and, by extension Ed - were only scraping the most basic principles of Alkahestry when May had brought up the Dragon’s Pulse fundament. From there on, theorizing had proceeded into the first small practical applications.
It was mostly Al who did the learning for the pair of them, primarily because Al wasn’t hindered in working alchemy when he and May tried for comparison of the two branches of the science, but also because Ed and May’s personalities just didn’t mesh well. Ed had discovered the additional benefits Alkahestry had to offer him purely by accident when messing around with it one day himself, instead of letting Alphonse doing everything alchemy related. The latter was a modus operandi the great nation of Amestris had unwittingly forced on the brothers. The physical restraints placed upon the handful of exceptional alchemists left ‘free’ to wander around in society were coded to each and every individual alchemist. The bracelets (or in Ed’s case: brace- and anklet) were primarily linked to their minds to override potential acts with an end result in destruction, which then meant it was automatically cued into the body said mind was part of. And lastly, out of pure necessity, to the final part of the trinity, because the soul is tethered to said mind and body.
When Ed had, almost four years past, at last been vouched for by Mustang - and hadn’t the bastard taken his sweet time after Ed’s recapture - his and Alphonse’s prowess in alchemy had marked them prime candidates for such a control system. Ed’s - their - release into the Hughes’s minding care, had only gotten government approval due to the condition of the precautionary Security Restriction. The ankle and wrist cuff had naturally been programmed to Edward, as none of the scientists working on the operation knew about Alphonse and none would clue the good doctors in to that fact.
The restriction worked flawlessly on Ed, who chaffed at the hefty imposed limitations. Naturally, Ed immediately tried everything he could think of to rid himself of the bothersome devices. It did not take long at all to find out that with the cuffs alchemically tethered to his body, trying to remove them by normal means resulted in severe electroshocks to the nervous system. For Ed, this metaphorical slap on the wrist had the potential to overload the wiring of his automail limbs. In his first year as a free operative, Ed had been forced to make more appointments with his cranky mechanic as a result of fried wire feedback than for any inflicted external damage or wear. Yet through this hazardous method of experimentation, Ed did find out one fruitful loophole, insofar as that when it was Al’s soul in control of the body, the device failed to register any alchemy performed as being executed by the triple compound of Ed’s mind, body and soul. Unfortunately, this did not entirely solve the brothers’ problem. The masterminds behind the invention had worked another fail safe into their equations. Having an active link to Ed’s mind and body, any attempts at alchemic destruction of the restraints from an outside alchemic source involved lethal risk to the wearer, in the form of more violent destructive shocks to the system. To date, only the makers of the device could deactivate and remove it by unanimous government sanction; hence the occurrence was all but unheard of. That didn’t stop the brothers from wanting to discover another way.
Being both adapt and able to use alchemy, Alphonse was an invaluable resource to ACIS - the unspoken yet ultimately deciding factor in their release sanction. The Armstrong family connections may have been dented after the Civil War, but they neither bent nor broke. As an added bonus, by assigning Riza Hawkeye as the boy’s handler, Olivia Armstrong had the absolute guarantee that Mustang would keep a close eye on the boy. The ironclad game plan. In the end, the arrangement ended up beneficial for Al and by extension Ed, too, who otherwise would not have had the opportunity to explore and learn as much as he did while on missions with Riza. That was not to say that their situation was ideal. The boys had a valid reason in their urgency to restore Alphonse’s soul to his own lost body. The human body was made to house only the soul that belonged to it. The earliest philosophers of ancient times, eons before the forming of the great kingdoms, tried to explain this phenomenon with many different ideas. The most well-known of those theories was that the body, mind and soul all together form one single self-sufficient existence; an existence which can only be truly alive when all these elements function in sync. By cramming in a second shred of a whole entity, as Ed had done, he put additional strain on both his own mind and body, which, in turn, increased the risk of said body eventually rejecting the much similar, yet not native, soul. Another, less significant side-effect of this mash-up was their shared, and often warped, ability of the mind to store memories. With tethers to two, some memories unintentionally carried over from one mind to the other. Add to that how Alphonse’s logic and associative brainwave patterns, as his own individual, had been fundamentally different from Edward’s. With the body sharing, Al’s different thought patterns tried to follow the same route through Ed’s brain, which was wired to another style of thought pattern. The fluke not only resulted in frequent headaches - induced by Edward’s brain trying to reroute itself frequently - and additional the fragmented shards of memory his mind would gain at random intervals, but also that either some of Al’s or even his own memories would randomly be stored only in Alphonse’s psyche. In short, it left Al often with too much input, occasionally bordering on an existentiality crisis, and Ed with a patchwork quilt of recollections.
Lin waited, expression neutral and posture rigid, while Ed said his piece. “And after all that you still seek my aid?”
Ed almost snarled. Had the idiot really not been listening? “I need everything your eyes on the ground have heard about this increase in chimera attacks, especially about the last one, the full details.” He scratched the back of his head, warily. “Depending on what we learn from that, I might need a way to get out of town undetected to go snake hunting. More than that, I need you to stop wasting our time with this whole judgemental thing and just have my back as my friend, you stupid, spoilt-”
He could have rambled on for quite a bit, mortally offended guards or not, had Lin not interrupted him, his pleased smile finally making an appearance on that previously oddly stoic face. “I’ve heard enough. Though your methods were wrong, your reasons and goals were not of treasonous intent. The accusations against you have now been heard and dropped.” The shutters on his good natured expression came up again to utter one more warning. “This will not happen again. The next time you have no choice but to ally yourself with one of the other clans, you ask my permission.” Ed opened his mouth to retort, but Lin bulled ahead. “Remember, you pledged your allegiance to me first. You are one of mine and I take care of my own. This is non-negotiable.”
Only when Ed nodded, mulishly silent, did the guards back up a few steps and RanFan’s dagger was no longer poised at his jugular. The girl also reluctantly handed Ed back his protection charm.
Lin clapped his hands once, all cheer once more. Ed could almost appreciate the irony: and people called him bipolar. “Let’s retire to the lounge, have something to eat and discuss business. I heard a passing-through band of one of Edison’s arms smugglers are heading west tonight…”
Illustration by
seta_suzume
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