Hello! This is my first crossover, and I've chosen the Fullmetal Alchemist and The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel universes to collide and destroy each other. LOL just joking.
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or SINF.
Enjoy! (This is just a prologue!)
"Sorry, Al. This is one trip that I have to make on my own. Don't look so sad. I'll be back before you know it! You know I never go anywhere with you, right? Just wait for me. I'll definitely come back!"
Alphonse Elric stooped low and studied the tide of the beach. It ebbed and flowed smoothly, pushing back the sands. He picked at the miniature pieces of rock, breaking down their components, an alchemic array bright in his mind.
Three days ago, his brother, Edward, had disappeared.
It was 1923 in current time, and he was 13-years-old. Last week, he and Edward had arrived in America, searching for the uranium bomb. After hours of chasing after it, they somehow ended up down south, in the Gulf of Mexico. The bomb had mysteriously disappeared, and when the night came to head back up north, Edward had gone.
He had simply vanished off the face of the earth.
If alchemy was somehow possible on this side of the Gate, Alphonse would have used it to scour the globe for any sign of his brother. But it was impossible. Alchemy was never going to work here, so why bother? It had only been two months since he had come into this world, and he had missed his ability to perform it.
"Where are you, Brother?" he asked the silence. He wasn't expecting it to answer.
It was a hot afternoon, and he boiled under his travelling coat. The oceans were bright and blue, and the sky was clear. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary . . . so where had Edward gone? The sea bore no omen of his brother's demise.
The last time they were together was on this very beach. While he waited at the shore, Edward had gone off with a guide to the open waters. All he said to Alphonse was that he had a hunch about something. He never returned that night.
Al thought that he had an accident—a freak storm had hit or maybe their boat ran out of gas and died, so they were forced to row to the nearest body of land. The next two days he had spent walking the coast, from one end to the next, in search of his brother—to see if he had washed ashore somewhere nearby.
So now Alphonse had returned to the very spot where Edward disappeared to get some sense or idea on where he'd gone. Just what kind of hunch did Ed have? Is that what led him to his disappearance?
"I'm powerless here," he murmured, looking at his hands.
He lingered at the beach a while longer, and when the sun was beginning to set, he decided to head back to the hotel he and Ed were staying at. In the lobby, he greeted the front desk and proceeded up the stairs. The room they had booked was number 7 on the second floor. He produced a key and unlocked the door.
He stepped into the room and the smell of musty books hit him. All around the room, books littered the floor, the chairs, the tables, even the kitchen counters. They were books about alchemy, about modern science, chemistry, biology, and world history. The two brothers spent a while reading them all. Ed, of course, read as fast as ever, but Alphonse took it slower, drawing all the information in and remembering them.
Something struck him as odd.
Edward had been reading a book a few days ago. The weird thing about it was . . . it was a book on mythology.
Edward was and did many things. He was a short-tempered midget, the youngest State Alchemist in Amestrian history, the first ever person to perform a full body human transmutation . . . and he never trusted mythology. He was a scientist; all he would do is laugh in the face of it. He would never believe such a thing or resort to it. Ever.
So why start now? Alphonse thought to himself.
It was more than strange. Science was to be trusted, not some legend or myth. Why did Ed suddenly start reading that book, and then going off somewhere without his brother? He never left anywhere or kept secrets from Alphonse. They were like two halves of the same whole. Ed always told him what was on his mind.
Alphonse had to admit he felt rather stung by this revelation. But a small voice at the back of his mind told him that the only reason why Edward didn't tell him anything was because he was protecting him. If Ed had told him . . . that would have brought some danger that Al couldn't see. But what was so dangerous about something from a mythological book?
Alphonse let out an indignant huff and proceeded to search for that infuriating book. If Ed was reading it so intensely, it had to be important.
He pushed aside textbooks and journals, newspaper clippings and articles. He dug under coaches and peered under tables. How hard could it be to find one book? Well, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that that book was the only mythological book in this room. It was going to take ages.
Instead, Al decided to clean the place up.
He went around and gathered the books, stacking them in order, sorting them into categories. He presented each finished pile to the center table, labeling each group. The last book he found under a lone chair turned out to be the book he was looking for.
He opened the novel and skimmed through it. The book stopped flipping near the end of a book, where a bookmark was precisely put. The slip of paper that marked the place said: Danu Talis; 10,000; Nick Fleming
"Who's Nick Fleming?" Al asked aloud.
He was quite used to asking the thin air questions, now. If he didn't, he was afraid he would go insane.
The young Elric proceeded to read the text. It simply said something about a legendary city called Atlantis and how it sank beneath the waves in one night. Al sat back, unimpressed.
"What's so important about that?" he grumbled. Then he flipped the page, and his heart gave a giant leap.
There was a picture—no, a map. The map showed exactly where he was, in the Gulf of Mexico. The land formed a giant crescent around an area where land should have been. Then there was a zoom-in for the area now filled with water. A picture with a giant circle and intricate designs—geometry incomprehensible to the normal human, shapes completely impossible to form, yet there it was.
Al now knew why his brother had disappeared, and why this page in the book was so important.
He had gone to find the Lost City of Atlantis, Danu Talis, to search for the giant circle. It was right in front of him, and he never knew. Edward had gone to see exactly why there was a huge transmutation circle etched into the rocks under the churning sea.
But the question stilled remained: Why, exactly, did a seemingly mythical city from a ten thousand years ago have a transmutation circle carved into its foundations, when alchemy ceased to exist and never worked on this side of the Gate? Neither of these two things should even be here. But it was.
And yet, there was more. Who was this Nick Fleming character, and why had Ed felt such a compelling need to write this man's name down on the paper?
Suppose this man knew something that Al didn't. Edward could have told Fleming and not him. Alphonse now knew what he had to do to find his brother. He had to track down this Nick Fleming, and demand to know what he knew.
If Ed had gone to find this Danu Talis all the way out at sea, something had to have happened to him. Maybe he had succeeded, but his endeavours went wrong halfway. Alphonse was stuck between going out there and finding Ed for himself, or going to this Fleming man.
It would be safer if you knew what you were dealing with, the reasonable Al told himself. A book isn't going to help any, he added, peering at the mythologies book. He doubted Ed went to sea to pull some stunt just because a book told him to. It was possible that Ed and 'Nick Fleming' knew each other.
But I've never been away from Brother! There's no way he's met Fleming—let alone speak to him—when I've haven't! So maybe Ed had just heard of this man from somewhere. But where?
Alphonse skimmed through the other piles of books and brought one out on the history of alchemy of this world. Nick Fleming did sound familiar. He flipped to the chapter on the earliest forms of alchemy, and found a bunch of names. Loads of people who have been great alchemists were written down. He went down the list, but didn't find a Nick Fleming anywhere.
"It has to be an alias," Al concluded. He went through the list again, then for a third time. Then, his trailing finger stopped on a name. He was now sure on this man's identity. "Nicholas Flamel," he said aloud, tasting the name on his tongue. "He was a supposed alchemist of his time. Born in 1330 and died in 1418."
But that couldn't be right! Nicholas Flamel was dead. There was no way Edward could talk to a dead man. He wasn't of use. So why was his name—well, alias—down on the sheet of paper? Why was it so important? Perhaps the man held a secret.
Alphonse flipped to the man's biography, and read it briefly. There was barely anything, just what he did during his youth, his dreams, his exploits, his apprentices. The information on alchemy that Flamel had knowledge of was simply too meager. Even a child from his side of the Gate—Amestris—was able to perform something like that.
"It's useless!" Al said, annoyed. "Nick Fleming has got to be a different man! It just doesn't make sense."
But if Danu Talis had been in front of his nose the entire time, then this Nicholas Flamel—or Nick Fleming—had to be very close by as well. Ed wasn't that stupid. If something did go wrong, he always had a back-up plan. He always left behind clues so Al would follow him and fix up his mistakes. That's how it has always been.
But Ed never left behind obvious clues. He was one for the puzzles and brain-teasers. Alphonse begged for this one time, that he would leave behind a straight-up clue, something that gave easy instructions to follow. But like always, Edward Elric had hidden them, and it was up to Al to find them.
"You never make it easy for me, Brother!" Alphonse complained.
The clues aren't hidden far away, the voice at the back of his mind said. Strangely, it sounded just like Ed. They're just hidden well. You just got to look for them very closely and carefully. Don't miss ANYTHING.
Rejuvenated with newfound determination, Al set to work. The longer he waited for Ed to show up, the smaller chance of him actually appearing. This wasn't something Ed could fix on his own; he needed help.
Edward wasn't going to walk alone anymore.
Alphonse was sure of that.
Should I put up another chapter? Let me know!
Edit: I'm in the process of rewriting everything up till chapter 9.