Chapter Text
Roy sat at the shore of the lake. He wasn’t in a good mood. In fact, he was sulking. His aunt, Madam Christmas, had told him to run off outside for an hour, and locked the door behind him. Roy didn’t understand why he had to leave though. Every time those mean looking men showed up at the bar, she cramped up like a shell and told him to scram. The boy wanted to know what they were talking about, and hated when he was treated like a child.
He sighed, looking at the horizon above the lake. The scenery was peaceful: the ducks moved slowly on the water, and the wind was a good respite from the summer’s heat.
No one came around here during the week, the only disturbance being the occasional couple going out for a stroll in the evening. It was a good place to think, as he so often did. Ever since he first saw a State Alchemist take down a bad guy, his brain wouldn’t stop thinking about alchemy. He became obsessed with it, so much so that he began sneaking into the library to read alchemy books whenever he could, trying to grasp as much information as possible. Usually, when he sat there, near the lake, circles and theories floated through his mind, fully absorbing and disconnecting him from his surroundings. But today, he was so upset for not being able to stay at the bar, that even alchemy was not enough to distract him.
Just then, a couple passed above on the sidewalk, their children running ahead, screaming and laughing. Their voices carried over to Roy as the breeze gently messed his hair.
“—will be late for dinner if we don’t start going back now.” The woman spoke firmly, holding her hat to prevent it from being blown away by the wind.
“I told you, Martha, dear. The party starts at nine, and it is only now six.” Her husband replied shortly.
“Oh, Daniel, you are just horrid with the time. It’s almost seven-thirty! How are we going to get the kids cleaned up on time?”
Their argument kept going as they moved away from Roy. Maybe he could practice his stone skipping, it had been a while since he last—
Wait.
Seven-thirty?
Roy stood up in a flash. How did time pass so quickly?
He stumbled his way up the hill to the sidewalk, scraping his knees on the pavement. He bypassed the couple, almost knocking down one of their kids in his hurry. Aunt Chris usually didn’t mind if he stayed out a little longer than expected, but he was late by a whole hour. She was going to be so pissed.
He sped through the streets of Central City, jumping over trash cans, dodging people who got in his way, and taking shortcuts whenever possible. He passed through Mr. Smith’s shop, quickly greeted Madam Christmas’ bar’s drink supplier, and sweared loudly when a car almost ran him over.
When he got home, he was sweating profusely, having beat his own previous record on how long it took for him to get there from the lake. Madam Christmas was outside, waiting for him. She looked drained, the bags under her eyes pronounced and a frown etched on her face as she gazed up at the sky. She had been smoking more lately, Roy observed, as she brought a cigarette to her lips and took a long drag. She never said anything to him, every problem that came up she dealt with privately. But Roy wanted to lighten her load, even if just a little. He already gave her enough trouble, the least he could do was help in any way possible.
As he got closer, her eyes focused on his figure. She scrutinized him, her stern face not wavering for a second.
Roy stopped in front of her, planning the best way to soften his aunt.
“I didn’t realize it was so late.” He gave her his best charming smile, raising an eyebrow the way he had seen some of the bar male clients do when they wanted to impress a girl. He then took her hand and lightly kissed it. “Sorry, aunt.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Then she smiled, all traces of her displeasure disappearing.
“Good to see you back in one piece, adventurer,” She said, taking back her hand and throwing her cigarette on the floor, putting it out with her high heels. “I know I told you to scram, but not for over two hours”
She patted his head, messing up his hair, despite his best efforts to duck away from her.
“We need to work on that winning smile, by the way. We wouldn’t want to ruin the Mustang name because of that terrible excuse of one.” She said as she held the door open for Roy.
The bar was as inviting as always. The low yellow lights cast shadows on people’s faces, the dark wood of the furniture adding to the cozy feeling, and the smell of alcohol and sweet perfume from the girls mixed together made up the characteristic fragrance of the bar. At that time of day, it wasn’t full, only regulars were usually there. Michael, Patrick and Johan were seated on the bar stools, loudly discussing the political and military state of Amestris; Diana and her husband were on a table close to the door, whispering and giggling as they always did when they had a few beers to drink. Mr. White, an old man with bulgy eyes and a thinning hairline, was flirting with Lilly, one of the girls that worked for his aunt. He spoke with a beer on his hand, precariously balancing his weight on the stool while he tried, not so subtly, to get a better look at her cleavage.
But away from everyone, in the far corner of the room, was a man Roy had never seen before. He was young, probably sixteen years old judging by his small stature. He had tan skin and long, blonde hair arranged in a braid. But what really caught Roy’s attention were his eyes: bright, intelligent golden eyes that followed his every move. The stranger’s mouth hung open, like he was seeing a ghost, his right hand flexing on his lap, hidden from view by the white glove he wore.
His aunt left his side to join Mr. White and Lilly, speaking loudly to drown his remarks about how ‘exquisite’ the girl’s figure was, but Roy wasn’t paying them any attention. He only had eyes for the mysterious man.
Roy had never seen a person quite like him. He looked like the description of a character from one of those old tales of Xerxes, where men and women had golden skin, hair and eyes. Roy had been certain that Xerxes was just a silly old fairy tale, but now he wasn’t so sure.
As in a trance, he approached the man’s table and stood in front of him, staring. The foreigner cleared his throat, glancing around the bar restlessly.
“I have never seen you here before, sir.” Roy said. He tried his charming smile again, his aunt’s remark echoing through his head. “Would you like anything to drink?”
The man gave a start, glaring back at Roy. “C-can– can you see me?”
Roy stared, confused. Of course he could see the man! Was the stranger mocking him? “Was I not supposed to see you?”
He laughed nervously. “Nevermind, I just say weird shit sometimes.” The foreigner changed his position on the chair, stretching his left leg to the side. “Hey, how old are you, Must–... kid. How old are you, kid?”
Roy puffed out his chest. “I am six, sir. But believe me, I can serve a table as well as anyone else!”
“Of course you can…” The man murmured, looking around once more.
They fell quiet, the sounds of people talking and drinking making it less awkward. The stranger seemed lost in thought, gazing unseeingly at a window, while his hands traced circles on the tabletop in front of him. Roy accompanied his movements, getting more and more excited as he recognized the symbols being drawn.
“Is that a transmutation circle?” He forgot all about his manners, and sat on a vacant chair beside the blonde. “I’ve been reading a lot about them in the library!”
The man looked at his hand. “I guess it was.”
“So, you are an alchemist?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“That’s so awesome! I think alchemists are so cool, especially State Alchemists! They do all kinds of cool stuff, like defeat the bad guys and save girls and be real heroes!” He was speaking so quickly that he began to stumble over his words. “Could you show me some alchemy? Please! I swear I’ll leave you alone.” He looked around to check if his aunt was near, then whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “I will even sneak you some alcohol if you want. I won’t even ask your age, I promise!”
At that the man looked up sharply, his face becoming red so fast that Roy worried he was about to pass out.
“WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO TINY THAT HE GETS MISTAKEN FOR A BABY?!”
“I- I didn’t say you were tiny like–”
“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A LITTLE RUNT THAT CAN’T EVEN REACH THE TOP OF A BALCONY?!”
“Sir, I–”
“IT’S PERFECTLY NORMAL FOR A TWENTY-FOUR YEAR OLD MAN TO BE A HUNDRED AND SIXTY-EIGHT CENTIMETERS TALL! IN FACT, IN SOME COUNTRIES, IT’S EVEN CONSIDERED TO BE TALL!”
“Please, sir! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you!” Roy realized he had made a grave mistake. He scanned the room to see if people were staring, or worse, if Madam Chris was coming to check on the situation, but surprisingly, it appeared as if nobody had heard a thing, all thoroughly absorbed in their drinks and discussions.
“WELL, THEN YOU SHOULDN’T CALL RANDOM PEOPLE SHORT FOR THEIR AGE!” The stranger finished, breathing heavily. They stayed like that, staring at each other, for a couple of minutes. The red from the man’s face began fading, being replaced by his previous tan color, and his eyebrows were relaxing, replacing his then nervous scowl to an unfriendly one.
When it seemed like the man had calmed down completely, Roy cleared his throat, grasping for words to diffuse the situation entirely.
“I am sorry, sir. I was rude and inconsiderate, please forgive me.”
“Humph,” The stranger crossed his arms. “Just forget it.”
Seconds of unpleasant silence passed. Roy couldn’t take it anymore. He was filled with so many questions, he felt like he could burst. He decided to try again.
“It seems we began on the wrong foot. My name is Roy Mustang, I live here with my aunt.” The boy smiled, forcefully. “How about you, sir. What is your name?”
“Ed– ” He choked, looking at Roy, scared. “Hum…”
“Edum?” Roy repeated. He grasped at his name, grateful for having a normal interaction with the stranger. He had never heard a name like that, but he assumed not every nation used the same names as Amestris, and the man clearly wasn’t from around here.
“Y-Yeah!” Mr. Edum gave a relieved laugh. “That is my name! Edum!”
Another long silence. Roy was afraid to say anything that would set the man off again. Mr. Edum didn’t seem in the mood to chat, either, with the way he kept avoiding his eyes. But Roy was a determined kid. There weren’t a lot of opportunities for him to talk to an alchemist, and he didn’t want to miss his chance when he was finally in the presence of one.
“Mr. Edum?” Said man sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I– I would really like– I mean, it would be fantastic if– what I’m trying to say is–” Roy was nervous. He was trying to find the right words for his request. He had tried asking Mr. Edum for him to show his alchemy before, only for the man to explode like a dynamite. He didn’t want a repeat of that.
“For fuck’s sake, Mustang.” The foreigner exclaimed irritably, taking his hands from his eyes. “Just spit it out already!”
Roy jumped a little and blurted out. “I want you to show me some alchemy!”
Mr. Edum stared at him. His face had become an impassive mask, his eyes hard and his mouth set on a firm line. It seemed like he was having an internal battle, contemplating if he should or shouldn't entertain the kids request.
Roy stood still, waiting anxiously for him to say anything.
Finally, the foreigner sighed, his eyes softening as he mapped Roy’s features.
“What the hell am I doing?” Mr. Edum murmured to himself. He put both elbows on the table, clasping his hands together. “What do you want to see?”
Roy perked up. “Anything, really!” He couldn’t contain his excitement. “The librarian doesn’t really let me look at alchemical books, but she is very old, so I usually just sneak past her and read the ones that I can reach on the shelves.” Roy remembered the face Mrs. Becker made when she found him buried under a pile of alchemy books. He had to navigate between the shelves to escape her wrath as she loudly yelled that if he sat foot on that section again, he would be in deep trouble. “I know about the equivalent exchange law, obviously, and I memorized some alchemical symbols, and I just finished reading Dobrick’s encyclopedia–”
“That’s shit” Mr. Edum interrupted. “Dobrick is a fucking loser who never tested shit. If he had, he would've known that his fucking theory was ass.”
“I don’t think so,” Now Roy was getting upset. “Dobrick didn’t intend for his research to be taken literally. It was supposed to be a mind exercise. If it was tested in reality, it wouldn’t work, not because it was flawed, but because reality’s condition would never be compatible with the parameters he set.”
“The thing is, you can’t make up a random assumption out of thin fucking air and expect everyone to just go with it. He never explained how he got his numbers, how he came about those parameters, not in any of his seven volumes. There are ways to do good mind exercises, and then there is Dobrick!” The man rested his chin on his interlaced fingers. “Take Enfinger, for example–”
“I can’t believe you are bringing Enfinger into this.” Roy interjected. “He is a moron! I haven’t read much of his work, but just the fact that he believed that it was possible to transmute without a circle discredits him completely! The man is a lunatic!”
The blonde smiled thinly. “So you don’t think it’s possible to transmute without a circle?”
“Of course it isn’t!” The boy exclaimed. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
Mr. Edum had a smug look on his face. He straightened himself in his chair and clapped his hands, slamming them on the tabletop. Suddenly, the air filled with electricity, making the ends of Roy’s hair stand up. A sparkling blue light appeared, filling the bar as a strange sound invaded his ears. Roy fell back with a yelp. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The wood from the tabletop was changing, a part of it coming apart from the rest, only connected by a thin wooden strip. It was moving as smoothly as if it was water, changing its form as fast as lighting. The disconnected wood began taking form. First, a protubing, curvy thing appeared, followed by a small expanse connected to four stocky sticks. Then, at the other end, a sphere was being shaped, and above it, two pointy triangles and three small balls materialized. In an instant, the piece was being tailored, becoming a more cohesive structure that finally transformed into something recognizable.
In the end, the electricity fizzled out, the noise died down, and the blue light disappeared.
There, on the table, stood a little wooden shiba inu dog.
Mr. Edum took his hands away from the wood, putting them behind his head. He looked at his work, satisfied, then glanced at Roy.
“You were saying?”
The boy was speechless.
The dog was so life-like. He could make out the individual hairs of its fur, the texture of its snout, the gleam of its eyes.
“That. Was. INCREDIBLE!” He shouted, overjoyed. “Did you see what you just did?! You clapped, then BAM, there was light and electricity! And the dog! You made a tiny little dog without using a transmutation circle!”
Mr. Edum was smiling as Roy danced around the table to look at every angle of his creation. The boy couldn’t take his eyes away from it.
“Huh, I thought you said 'it's impossible to transmute without a transmutation circle ’.” The blonde said in a high-pitched voice, mimicking what Roy had said just a moment ago.
Roy ignored the remark, too fascinated to care if his ego was hurt.
“You have to teach me how to do that! I can’t believe–”
“ROY MUSTANG!”
The boy froze. That didn’t sound good.
He turned around slowly, watching as his aunt approached them with fire in her eyes.
“What in the world is going on here?!” She reached their table, looking ready to tear him a new one. The bar had become silent. Even Mr. White had stopped flirting with Lilly.
Roy had completely forgotten he was at the bar, filled with people who didn’t want to be disturbed by a stranger doing alchemy and a kid shouting incessantly.
“Madam Christmas, I can explain.”
“Well, you better start explaining. NOW!”
She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, waiting for him to give his explanation. Roy looked to Mr. Edum for help, but the man didn’t seem to be feeling well. He had become deathly pale, his eyes unfocused and as wide as saucers. His hands were gripping the edge of the table, creasing his pristine white gloves. Roy was about to check on him when his aunt cleared her throat loudly, drawing his attention back to her. Right. He was screwed. He decided to apologize quickly to her, then he would be able to make sure that the foreigner was okay.
“You see,” Roy began. “I was chatting with Mr. Edum, and the topic of alchemy came up.” Madam Chris looked at him strangely, but he kept going, wanting to be done as soon as possible to check on the alchemist. “So I asked if he could give me a demonstration, and he did.” Roy gestured at the table, where the little wooden dog stood. “It is entirely my fault for pestering him, and for disturbing the peace of the bar, Madam. I apologize.”
She looked at the table and gasped. “Roy…”
The boy closed his eyes, ready to receive the reprimanding of his life.
“That is beautiful!”
His eyes shot open. Madam Chris was kneeling on the floor beside Mr. Edum’s chair, ignoring him. Her face was full of wonder as she grazed her fingers gently on the toy’s surface. She turned to Roy, smiling proudly at him, and lifted herself up. She took the dog, gently holding it, and turned to the people at the bar, who were all watching the scene expectantly.
She raised the dog high in the air for everyone to see, and in a delighted voice, she announced:
“My boy just transmuted for the first time!”
The bar exploded in applause and cheers, everyone getting out of their seats to take a closer look at the toy. It passed from hand to hand, people moving it in all directions to appreciate every little detail. When they were finished inspecting it, they came to Roy to congratulate him, gushing about how young he was, how he was going to become an amazing alchemist, complimenting him on his astounding ability.
Roy was frustrated. He didn’t deserve any of these praises, he hadn’t done anything! Why were they ignoring what he said, and not taking notice of Mr. Edum? Did they not like the alchemist, and that was why they were treating him like he wasn’t even there? Was all of this an elaborate ruse to prank Roy? Had Mr. Edum been in on this the whole time?
Angela, another one of the girls who worked at the bar, approached him and pinched his cheeks, worsening his already increasingly bad mood.
“I’m so proud of you, darling!” She said as the boy rubbed his tender cheeks. “And to think all this time you were practicing alchemy without any of us noticing.”
“But I didn’t do alchemy!” He yelled, drawing everyone’s attention to him as he finally lost his temper. “It was Mr. Edum!”
Angela looked at him, confused. “Who?”
“Mr. Edum! He is right ther–”
He turned around to show her the blonde man, but the alchemist wasn’t there. The table was the same as always, except for the marks left by the transmutation. The chair he had been occupying was positioned perfectly under the table, like it had never been used. He hadn’t had anything to drink, nothing to eat, so there weren’t any glasses or plates to clean up. It was like he had never been there to begin with.
“But– How? He was there!” The boy exclaimed. “You couldn’t have missed him. He was short, with bright blonde hair and golden eyes, like those people in the legends!”
Angela stared at him, worried.
It couldn’t be. Roy began looking around frantically. All of a sudden he remembered Mr. Edum’s face when his aunt had approached them. He had looked sick, like he was about to throw up. Maybe he had gone to the bathroom?
Angela saw his agitation and took his hands. “Are you feeling alright, Roy?”
The boy didn’t hear her. He tore his hands away from hers and ran to the bathroom, Angela’s protests trailing behind him.
The bathroom was dirty. The person who was supposed to clean it had been sick for the last two days and wasn’t able to come. A mirror had a crack on it from a fistfight that happened four months ago, the sink didn’t close properly, so it was endlessly dripping away, and two of the three stalls were out of order until they could get a hold of a plumber. There were a million tiny details that Roy’s brain identified. But none of them indicated that the foreigner had ever been there.
Roy’s head was spinning. There was no way, simply no way. He had to find him.
Outside. It was the only answer. The man had left without anyone noticing and went outside to catch some air.
As fast as he got there, Roy left the bathroom, ignoring his aunt’s call. He rushed to the bar’s entrance, pushing it open and stumbling out.
It was dark, the hot air unbearable without the breeze from the lake, but he didn’t care. Roy ran up and down the street, looking behind everything that looked like it could hide a man, searching for any clues that would give him a hint of the man’s whereabouts.
After a few minutes of running around, Roy gave up. He sat on the edge of the sidewalk. His arms wrapped around his knees, which were still hurting from when he tripped over earlier near the lake, and dropped his head in his arms. He couldn’t process it. He remembered every single detail: how they had argued about Dobrick and Enfinger, how it seemed strange that a man at a bar didn’t order anything, the strange look he gave Roy when he had first arrived, the way the blue light from his alchemy danced in the man’s eyes, how he carefully sculpted the wood into a little dog, his expression when he proudly proved Roy wrong.
His braid. His tan skin. His blood-red cloak. His cocky grin. His blond hair. His golden eyes.
His golden eyes.
Roy’s head hurt.
There was no way he hadn’t been real.
The boy sniffled. There was a noise of a door opening nearby, but he didn’t raise his head. The person sighed, then approached him. They sat next to each other, the silence being broken by the occasional sound of a car speeding by far away.
“Are you going to tell me what is wrong?”
Roy didn’t move, still trying to contain the tears that threatened to spill out. Another sigh. Suddenly, an arm was draped over his shoulder, bringing him closer to the person’s chest.
“Come on, Roy, I’m not a mind reader. Tell me what is going on.”
Still hiding his face from view, the boy said in a muffled voice. “He is real, I swear!”
“I’m not saying he isn’t, dear.” The person gently shook his body. “Maybe only you could see him. Your father also used to have an imaginary friend–”
“I didn’t make him up!” He sobbed, finally looking up at Madam Chris with tear tracks on his cheeks. “He was there !”
She didn’t reply. Roy shoved her arm away and moved back so he was facing her.
“I didn’t do any alchemy, he did! I just barely learned how to draw a perfect circle, how could I have made a dog like that?! I couldn’t, that’s how! Because he did it!”
Madam Christmas’ face contorted in sympathy. The boy hated pity, hated when people didn’t take him seriously.
“Why won’t you believe me?!”
His aunt finally broke, sadness seeping into her features. “Oh, Roy…”
He realized at that moment that he was fighting a lost war. She wasn’t joking. It had never been a joke. For her, there had never been a Mr. Edum at the bar, never had there been a person sitting at the table with her nephew. For her, he had been speaking to no one, arguing over alchemy with himself, and had created a toy suddenly, all on his own.
Roy felt tired.
“Just leave me alone.” He murmured.
She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but changed her mind. She stayed there for a few seconds, waiting to see if he had anything else to say. When he stayed quiet, she kissed the top of his head and got up.
Halfway to the entrance, she stopped. She went back to the boy’s side, leaving something next to him, then retraced her steps back to the bar, closing the door quietly behind her.
Roy sat there for a long time.
Maybe it was just like Madam Christmas had said. Maybe he had an imaginary friend, just like his father used to have, and he got a little lost in his fantasy. He could just accept that and stop being such a cry-baby.
But the man had felt so real . The way he fidgeted and kneaded his hands together, the crease between his eyebrows when he got mad, the glint of his eyes when he performed his alchemy.
His eyes .
Maybe Roy was crazy. Maybe he had seen a random person in the street, or looked at a picture of a character in a book, and stored them deep in his subconscious, only for them to reappear randomly today in the form of an alchemist. Maybe he had wished so much for someone to teach him how to transmute, that he made up a whole story just to satisfy his desire. Maybe he had lost it completely, and would now have to be sent to God-knows-where, away from everything he knew, so he wouldn’t be a threat to society, to his only family.
After a long while, he stirred, ready to head back inside. As he got ready to get up, his hand bumped into something, sending it scattering into the street. It stopped near Roy, illuminated by the light from the streetlamps.
The toy.
It was so beautiful, so proportionate, like the person who created it had made it a hundred times before. Every little feature was crafted with such care and precision, so much personality imbued into it, it wouldn’t be a surprise if it was a copy of a real dog. There was no way any old alchemist could do that. It required a level of control and grace that could only be achieved by years of dedication.
It hadn’t been Roy who had done it.
The boy reached for the toy. He felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and his mind had cleared, thoughts flitting through his head calmly. There was no doubt about it. Anyone could deduce that, even if Roy had trained over and over to make a wooden dog, it would have taken years of experience for him to create a piece as complete as the one he was holding.
The man had been real. And, for some reason, only Roy could see him.
With countless theories circling through his head, the boy made his way back home.
No matter how long, or how much effort it took, Roy was going to find the alchemist again. And when he did, he would demand all of his questions be answered: why only he could see him, why he had disappeared all of a sudden, why hadn’t he told Roy anything….
Roy smiled, gently hugging his toy close to his chest as he reached the bar’s entrance.
When they finally met again, Roy decided, he would ask Mr. Edum to teach him how to make that wooden shiba inu.
But until then, Roy would study. He would go everyday to the library, read as much as he could, even if he had to escape from Mrs. Becker every single time. He would practice alchemical symbols day and night, until his fingers fell off. He would recite whole sections of the great alchemical works until they were printed on his memory. He would find a master who would take him under their wing and teach him all he had to learn.
He would become the best alchemist the world had ever seen.