001 ☣ In Dreams
Sand sand and so much sand. It was around him, in his clothes, and in his eyes. Gritty and uncomfortable. According to those that had informed him of the four years he spent traveling with his brother, Al had already taken this route. But the last time, he had been a suit of armor. He was grateful, he supposed, that this time he could actually feel the heat on his skin and the grit in his eyes. This time, he wouldn't sink beneath the surface, as he assumed might have happened. This time, he could see the waves of heat coming off the dunes. And it was all thanks to his brother.
His brother... That's why he was out here. Out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing by sand and sun. Ahead, glimmering between the dunes, looked like what might be a city or what might be a mirage. But he was alive. Flesh and blood and could see, even if it might've been fake. Four years he had been bound to iron, and though he didn't remember it, he knew it was a reality. And his brother had done what he could to bring him back. But now Edward was gone and Alphonse was determined to find him.
Al's throat was parched. He swallowed against the dryness, and slipped a gloved hand into the pocket of the warn red cloak on his shoulders. Really, it was too hot to be wearing something so warm, but Al couldn't find it in himself to leave it behind. Winry had mentioned that it was his brother's. She had said it was old, patched, ripped and stained (which he could see for himself), but it had been Ed's and one of the lingering pieces of his brother that he could find.
Out of the pocket, Al withdrew a canteen. His fingers made quick work of the lid and he brought it to his lips, only to frown when nothing but a few drops slipped out. Recapping the lid and putting the item back in his pocket, Al smirked lightly to himself. White-gloved hand made a resounding clap that echoed off the dunes and he knelt to place his palms on the ground. The sand parted and grew, forming a round well out of dirt, rocks, and whatever materials were hidden in the sand. And out of the well burst forth a geyser of water.
With a laugh, Al threw back his hood and let the cool water rain down on him. Through the falling water, he could finally see what lay ahead: Lior. Only a mile or two away. Maybe that town would have more answers for where his brother might have gone.
If he's not there, then he'll go to the next town. And the next. Over land or sea, from Xing to Drachma. It doesn't matter how tired his feet are. He tells himself that the exhaustion is a gift. Something he had not had while bound to the hulk of metal. His brother gave that to him. And now his brother was gone. Edward was gone to where he could not follow. But Al kept searching and searching.
[there is a rustle of fabric as he sits up abruptly, with a gasp]
Where... Brother? Brother?!
....I don't think this is the other side of the Gate.
His brother... That's why he was out here. Out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing by sand and sun. Ahead, glimmering between the dunes, looked like what might be a city or what might be a mirage. But he was alive. Flesh and blood and could see, even if it might've been fake. Four years he had been bound to iron, and though he didn't remember it, he knew it was a reality. And his brother had done what he could to bring him back. But now Edward was gone and Alphonse was determined to find him.
Al's throat was parched. He swallowed against the dryness, and slipped a gloved hand into the pocket of the warn red cloak on his shoulders. Really, it was too hot to be wearing something so warm, but Al couldn't find it in himself to leave it behind. Winry had mentioned that it was his brother's. She had said it was old, patched, ripped and stained (which he could see for himself), but it had been Ed's and one of the lingering pieces of his brother that he could find.
Out of the pocket, Al withdrew a canteen. His fingers made quick work of the lid and he brought it to his lips, only to frown when nothing but a few drops slipped out. Recapping the lid and putting the item back in his pocket, Al smirked lightly to himself. White-gloved hand made a resounding clap that echoed off the dunes and he knelt to place his palms on the ground. The sand parted and grew, forming a round well out of dirt, rocks, and whatever materials were hidden in the sand. And out of the well burst forth a geyser of water.
With a laugh, Al threw back his hood and let the cool water rain down on him. Through the falling water, he could finally see what lay ahead: Lior. Only a mile or two away. Maybe that town would have more answers for where his brother might have gone.
If he's not there, then he'll go to the next town. And the next. Over land or sea, from Xing to Drachma. It doesn't matter how tired his feet are. He tells himself that the exhaustion is a gift. Something he had not had while bound to the hulk of metal. His brother gave that to him. And now his brother was gone. Edward was gone to where he could not follow. But Al kept searching and searching.
[there is a rustle of fabric as he sits up abruptly, with a gasp]
Where... Brother? Brother?!
....I don't think this is the other side of the Gate.