The 'Book of the Dead', more accurately called the 'Spell for Coming Forth by Day', was a collection of spells and texts including a scene of judgement in which the heart of the deceased is weighed throughout the night of his sojourn in the underworld, against a feather (representing the divine order). If the deceased is found lacking, he is gobbled up by a demon. If the deceased passes the judgement, his all-conquering spirit then emerges with the morning sun.



Letters given by General Roy Mustang to Gracia Hughes, for safekeeping, mere days before his death. They were contained in a package addressed to Major Riza Hawkeye, but of course were never delivered to her, as she died along with the general in the destruction of the city buried beneath Central City.

From internal references, it is clear that these letters were written over a period of almost two years, during which General Mustang was stationed in the remote northern outpost after recovering from the injuries he suffered after the death of Fuhrer Bradley. Although the letters were written to Major Hawkeye, General Mustang states in more than one of them that he never intended her to see them unless he were to die for some reason. When he became aware that he would die in the underground city, clearly he planned that she should receive the letters. But of course this purpose was thwarted when she joined him in his final sacrifice.

The letters have instead remained in the possession of Gracia Hughes. While all of the general's close friends have read them, they have agreed that Mrs. Hughes or a designated successor should retain them in privacy, until such time as they can be released to the public without irreparable damage to General Mustang's reputation.



Dearest Riza,

It's been a month now. I know apologies are not enough. I don't know how to explain what I've done. I keep hoping you understand, but that's awfully presumptuous, isn't it?

I know I've hurt you, and that becomes one more hurt I've inflicted, in what seems a lifetime of bringing pain to people. Or worse.

Maybe you know by now, about the boy. I wonder if you already knew, and kept it from me. If you did...then I guess you really do understand, don't you? Or you would have told me.

Bradley's son is dead. I thought I had saved him from the fire. The one good thing I thought I did in that whole evening of violence and blood. If he hadn't come in when he did, I'd be dead instead of the Fuhrer. And because Selim came in – he died. I didn't save him, even after he had brought me what I needed to defeat his father.

How many people have been sacrificed so I could succeed at some enterprise I thought was important?

It's too much to bear, Riza. I just couldn't stay, and face yet another death. Haven't I always said what a coward I am?

I don't know what is left for me now. I had to get away, had to think. Or perhaps not to think. Maybe that's really what I'm doing.

It's very cold here.