Hey guys! I'm back and trying out this fanfic thing again. I've let my friend read this and he's told me that it's good, but I'm hoping that you guys feel that same way. My last fic didn't turn out as well as I'd have liked it to; hopefully this one is okay. I may be in school, but that's not gonna stop me now!
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. If I did, I would be the happiest person alive.
The cycle of life consists of three stages: birth, life, and death. For thousands of years, alchemists have been trying to find ways to break this circle and bring back the ones they love. But Death is a cruel and possessive creature, and the Truth finds ways to torture those who dare to trespass into its territory.
And yet, there is a lineage of humans, able to bypass the laws of "equivalent exchange", and send their souls into the passageway between life and death, though unable to bring souls back from Death's grip.
They are called the Blessed. They look like humans, act like humans, and even talk like humans. But there are several things that set them apart from regular mortals: marks like angel wings, the ability to detect true intentions and thoughts by looking at a person's face, and the tendency to glow when provoked or greatly angered.
These thoughts ran through the head of Second Lieutenant Andrew Samuels, a descendant of the Blessed lineage. He watched his four children chase each other through the tall summer grass as the last rays of the summer sun inched below the horizon. His gaze was mostly on his only daughter, Emmaly Jasper.
She had her mother's blue eyes and her father's auburn hair, along with her father's ill-fated lineage. The Blessed were supposed to change the world, whether for the better or for the worst, no one knew.
"Do you give up, Jeremiah?" Emmaly Jasper called, holding her eldest brother in a full Nelson. Jeremiah was laughing at the top of his eight year old lungs, mostly at his four year old sisters antics. The twins stood off to one side, passing hands to see who'd win this wrestling match.
Even for a group of children, the Samuels offspring were always wrestling or sparring. Emmaly Jasper was especially acrobatic, flipping and dodging and throwing some mean punches of her own.
Someone laid their hand on Andrew's shoulder.
"You've been watching them for almost two hours now; I don't think they're coming inside anytime soon." Victoria smiled warmly, giving Andrew the strength he'd need to say what needed to be said.
"I only wish that there'd be some way that I could break that kind of news to her without it being confusing." Andrew muttered sadly, pressing his face into his hands. He had finally broken the news to Victoria after the kids had gone to bed.
Emmaly Jasper was the Blessed child, and only one could be born into a family at a time. The air was silent except for the occasional cheer and short burst of music from one of the inns farther down in the valley.
Amadeus1 was a mid-sized town, not as big or industrialized as Central was, but not as small or as quiet as some other places in Amestris. It was one of those places where everyone was friends with everyone. And everyone made it their business to know yours.2
"Andrew, dear. I know that this isn't easy, but we'll work it out. She doesn't have to know everything until we think she's ready to know. She's only four years old, and she needs to have some normalcy right now, don't you think?" Victoria explained in her best logical tone. Andrew stared into the flickering candlelight, when a small cry of, "Momma?" echoed from upstairs.
"I'll do it this time. You need to get some rest, Victoria." Andrew stood and headed up the creaky staircase to his daughters room, passing by the twins and Jeremiah.
The light was still on in Jeremiah's room.
"Son? Why are you still up?" Andrew questioned, sitting down on the edge of his eldest son's bed. Jeremiah had his head on his arms, which were around his knees. He looked up at the sound of his father's voice, and his brown eyes were red.
"I think Emmaly Jasper's nightmares are getting worse; I'm scared, Dad." Jeremiah said plainly, staring at a corner of the wall. Andrew knew exactly how Jeremiah felt.
Emmaly had a psychological condition known as night terrors, where she had dreams so real that it seemed that she wouldn't wake up from them.
"Momma? Where are you?" Emmaly's timid voice came from the room next door. Andrew stood up and was about to go check on his daughter, when Jeremiah caught his father's arm.
"Dad, can I go with you? I want to see if she's okay too." Jeremiah pleaded, giving his father a squeeze that only comes from a child who doesn't want to be seen crying.
"Of course. Plus, I think she might calm down faster if you're there." Andrew picked up his son, and continued down the hallway. Emmaly was sitting up in bed, with her safety blanket clutched to her chest and her rag doll in one tiny hand. She reached out as Andrew set Jeremiah on the ground, making little whimpering noises.
"What did you see this time, Skippy?" Andrew cradled his little girl, calling her the nickname that had been sticking since she was first introduced to peanut butter. She sniffled and started tracing her finger over Jeremiah's hand.
"I saw the snake again. And those people with the circles on them. They were all in a group around this man that looked like Jeremiah." Emmaly responded, her finger going in a small circle over and over again on her older brother's hand.
Jeremiah had inherited his blonde hair as an infant from somewhere very far down his mother's line, but it was turning dark as he got older. Andrew felt his eyes go wide for a second, remembering that Emmaly had recently been with him while he was studying some of the lesser known basics of alchemy. Things like homunculi, which were artificially created humans, something that went against the ultimate taboo of alchemy: human transmutation.
She'd seen the "serpent that swallows its own tail", the ouroborus symbol, before. She'd even drawn it before in her slightly scrawled four year old crayon drawings. Even then, she had the talents of an alchemist; drawing circles in the condensation from her water glass, absently running her fingers over the surface of the floor. But Victoria didn't want the kids to learn things like that, saying that it was unnatural and went against the way that the world wanted to be.
"It was just a dream, Skippy." Jeremiah whispered into his sisters' ear. Emmaly nodded, and then let out a deep sigh. She was back asleep, hopefully for the rest of the night.
Andrew laid Emmaly back down onto her bed, and kissed her forehead. It was a family thing for them to call those kisses "angel blessings", because the angels would watch over you in the night.
"Good night sweetheart. I love you."
"Love you too, Daddy." Emmaly muttered sleepily. That may have been the last time Andrew would ever hear those words.
Hey readers! Thanks for taking the time to read this! Hope you liked it, and your reviews are read and appreciated.
A/N: 1) If your parents grew up in the '80's, ask them about the song "Rock Me Amadeus". I was trying to come up with the name and that came to my head. This isn't a songfic.
2) I am totally stereotyping when I say this; I know practically nothing about small towns.
Well, love it? Hate it? Somewhere in the middle? Read and then be a good fellow author and hit the review button!
I give out virtual brownies to reviewers! :D