Scar had disappeared after his encounter with Envy, Shou Tucker having been the last State Alchemist that he had gotten the opportunity to execute. This had been his first encounter with a Homunculus, and his last. At least, as of now.
Envy had done much more than put a scratch on the burly man, and that was enough for the Ishvalan to rethink his entire purpose. He had managed to critically wound him. Their fight had been long, drawn out. Scar could tell that the hideous creature had been trying to tear him down, bit by bit, before he defeated him. Envy had managed to do just that.
They hard charged at each other in the deceased state alchemist's basement, and somehow the battle moved outdoors and into the sewers. Raw power against raw power, inhuman strength against inhuman strength. Scar had already been surprised when the brawl looked as if it would end in a draw. When he found himself waking up in a small tent surrounded by Ishvalan refugees in the east after having been stricken down by the hand of an artificial being, he was mortified. Scar's power, his brother's dominant power, had been too weak to defeat a simple Homunculus. The first thing he thought when he woke from consciousness, ribs and head aching from collision and overexertion, was that he had let his brother down. He had failed the one person he had dedicated his life to avenging. Everything he had ever done was for him, and now that he was laying helpless on a cotton mat, being told to wait until his wounds healed before he could move by a ten year old Ishvalan, he was ashamed.
Scar could barely remember what went wrong. As he stared intensely at his hands, blistered and covered in fresh scars, he remembered the way the Homunculus regenerated when he managed to land a blow on him. Envy's body would consume itself in frightening red sparks, signifying his malicious intentions and lust for chaos and blood. He was disgusting, a mere disgrace to the human race. Scar spent the last few weeks cursing the name of Homunculi, traveling the country with a misfit or two, who had no place else to go but with him- the big, strong man that could protect them from the government. Despite the fact that these two men that hovered by him as he traveled up north were nuisances in their own way, but they did manage to keep him company. One was a former corrupt member of the Amestrian military, who babbled on like a baby about getting revenge on the state alchemists that ruined his life when the topic of alchemy was brought up. The other was a scientist on the run, doing what he could to keep his identity and face concealed from the general public. Scar didn't know how he ended up with the two. The former alchemist, Yoki, had been waiting for him to wake up in the Ishvalan sanction of the east. When Scar jumped up and out of his tent, much too soon for his wounds to properly heal, the man instantly glued himself to his side. As for the scientist, called Tim Marcoh, he was a mystery.
Though Yoki was quite useless, Scar learned plenty of helpful information about the Homunculi from the scientist. He learned where they came from, what their purpose was, and that they planned to turn Amestris into a Philosopher's Stone. The more Scar discovered about the fate of this country, the more cautious he became of the secrets of Alchemy his brother passed to him in his dying breath. Scar had always hated State Alchemists, and the alchemy they used. He'd always hated everything they stood for, everything they were involved in, and the issue with the Homunculi was just another problem created by alchemists. Men of 'science' who justified their wrongdoings with curiosity. It was appalling, but the only things that proved to be worse than State Alchemists were Homunculi.
Above all, Scar learned that the Amestrians were not the people who began the Ishvalan Civil War. A state alchemist was not the one to shoot a young Ishvalan child in broad daylight and evoke a national outcry in 1901. From Marco, Scar discovered that the creature who shot the child and orchestrated the entire war was, in fact, the Homunculus that he fought hand to hand and lost to. Orchestrating the war was something of a game to him, as well as the other Homunculi he worked with. Every single thing that had been done, the people killed, the life of his brother lost, was not caused by the Amestrians but by the horrifying creatures that worked behind the scenes. Scar took a good amount of time trying to digest this. He'd killed, and killed, State Alchemist after State Alchemist, and in the end, they had just unknowingly been following the orders of the Homunculus that governed their country. Granted, the soldiers were still at fault for murdering thousands of his people, but now Scar knew that it was all because of a simple misunderstanding. A trick. A scheme.
His brother died because of Homunculi, therefore his course of actions had been executed incorrectly. His entire purpose had been tainted, and it sent the red eyed man spiraling into a crisis.
Scar still hated State Alchemists, but he was beginning to give them the benefit of the doubt. He was beginning to realize that he had been the one causing damage over the past few years, not the Amestrains. He'd lost himself when his brother died, and it was far too late for him to find himself again. What was his purpose, now? What path of vengeance would lead him into a righteous path? Was he to replace his hatred for Alchemists with hatred for Homunculi? Was he to help the Alchemists? Was he to simply lay down and die, too ashamed of the wrongs he'd committed- too lost to pick himself back up and keep going?
But then he saw that girl, the one who'd pierced the skin on his palm. The one that Envy had seemed so interested in, the one who was the daughter of the man he'd sworn to kill. He hadn't meant to run into her. In fact, he hadn't expected to ever see her again. He'd forgotten all about her, but when he saw her standing in the middle of the street- looking around for someone she couldn't see, he figured he was put in this situation on purpose. The population of the country was soon to be slaughtered, and she happened to appear now, of all times. Maybe she was more involved with this than he had previously believed.
So there he was. Scar had only been out in the city to search for some extra blankets and food when he saw her, and now he found himself being mean mugged by two fifteen year old alchemists that he had, not so subtly, tried to kill only weeks ago. Not only that, but the presence of a Homunculus wafted heavily in their auras as they lowered their defenses in preparation to hear what he had to say. Before, he would have instantly pounced at them and forced answers out of them before he ended their lives, but things were different now. When there were Homunculi roaming about, seeking to devastate and destroy, humans needed to stick with humans. That was the only reason why Scar was being patient, when it was clear that the Fullmetal and Empath Alchemists had been spending time with an artificial human being.
Edward didn't look happy as he backed away from Scar to stand close by (Y/n). His eyes never left Scar's face, as if he were looking for a reason to attack him, despite (Y/n)'s intuition. The said girl stood her ground and kept a brave, intimidating face. Her jaw was taught and her chest puffed forward slightly. She was showing Scar that he had no power over her, no control, no fear. She was prepared to fight if she needed to, and she would not go down as easily as she had during their first encounter.
Scar's eyes landed on her oversized, military issued blazer. He recalled that Maes Hughes, an officer who had been heavily involved with his criminal case, had placed it onto her shoulders. It was funny that she was wearing it now, during their second encounter, in a more ironic kind of way.
"Answer me, Scar," she spoke once more. "What are you doing here? Where have you been? The military has practically given up on your case because you've been gone for so long."
"That is the point," he answered, bluntly. (Y/n) tilted her head to the side slightly.
"So... what, you're hiding? That doesn't really sound like you."
"Things change."
Edward shook his head. "So you've just been up here this entire time? Why are you suddenly hiding from the government when all you've ever done was seek them out yourself?"
"I'm sure you both remember a Homunculus that can take the form of any living being," Scar said abruptly. Ed and (Y/n) stiffened, allowing Scar to deduce that they had been involved with the said being. "He's the reason why I'm hiding."
"Envy?" Edward asked for confirmation.
"I did not learn his name, but I assume you know more about him than me."
"What did he do?" (Y/n) asked, her voice suddenly threatening to waver. Scar noticed that Edward's brow twitched, and Scar was now sure that Envy was not the Homunculus they had been spending time with. He couldn't have been, not when the mention of his name seemed to make them so uncomfortable.
"I don't remember much, but we charged at each other and he managed to injure me. Badly. I woke up in pain, my wounds wrapped tightly to prevent further bleeding," Scar explained. "He killed that girl. In Ishval."
"What?" Ed interjected. "Wait- he's the one that started the Ishvalan war?"
Scar stared at him blankly. "Yes. I found out two weeks ago."
The two wished they could have been more surprised, but it honestly made more sense than the story they'd had been told. They both knew that the story of an Amestrian soldier randomly shooting a child in the middle of Ishval was strange, and it was both a relief and a horror to learn that Envy had been behind it all along. Once again, Envy was connected to violence and bloodshed, despair and mourning.
"How are you familiar with Envy? Aside from the day you were with him at the Fifth Laboratory."
"He's the first Homunculus that called us sacrifices," Edward jumped in, trying to avoid the answer that he and (Y/n) were both thinking.
"I recall him mentioning that you were both important to him, and that he needed to keep an eye on you. Is this what he meant?"
"The Homunculi call us human sacrifices because we're apparently the only people who can help them jumpstart the Promised Day-"
"The day Amestris is used for a Philosopher's Stone."
Edward gave him a skeptical look. "How do you know that?"
"I have a source that used to work for the Homunculi against his will," Scar said, casually. "I assume the sacrifices are only State Alchemists?"
"Yeah," Ed drawled out. "I'm not entirely sure about the details of how it all would go down, but they need us for the Promised Day. Or else it won't work in their favor."
"Envy also killed the General of Central Command," (Y/n) frowned, and Edward cringed slightly, for he knew it was going to come up soon. Scar glanced at the Empath Alchemist and saw that she was more than upset.
"That's the man who gave you that," he pointed at her blazer, and she was shocked he had even been around to notice the exchange when he disappeared from their sight that day.
"Envy shot him. He's our enemy, and we're his. He's a terrible, disgusting being and we hate him as much as any normal person would. So why are you looking at us like we'd affiliate ourselves with him?" Scar's brows tightened as he clenched his jaw. It was like she was reading his mind "Envy is awful, and he took away your livelihoods in Ishval as well as someone close to us. So what's the deal?"
"You reek of a Homunculus. I deserve to have my suspicions."
"You deserve to have your suspicions? Scar, I don't give a damn how much you've changed, you almost killed my best friend and you threatened to kill my Father. I don't approve of anything you stand for, and I'm sorry that your people had to go through so much. I'm sorry for everything that us Amestrians have taken away from you, but I'm not just gonna forget everything you've done. How dare you tell me that you deserve to have suspicions when we've done nothing but what we think is right? Don't be a hypocrite, Scar. I'm not in the mood."
Scar sighed and walked up the pair of teens. Edward naturally threw his right arm in front of (Y/n) and forced her to step back as he got closer. When he finally stopped walking he stared down at her intensely.
"I won't apologize for my past actions because it won't mean anything. I was fully aware of what I was doing, and at the time I believed it to be right. I have no time for remorse," he said, and (Y/n)'s face scrunched. "With that being said, I understand your anger with me. You have every right, and I will not hold it against you if you wish to make me pay. If I don't die during the Promised Day, my life will be in your hands."
"Scar- I don't want to kill you," she laughed dryly. "All you ever think about is revenge and death. I'm not here to kill anybody, I don't- I just want answers from you. And I'm just letting you know that you ruined your own life, and I won't let someone who has looked down on me talk to me like I'm an idiot. Use your head for a second. Why would I associate with a Homunculus if I know that they're up to no good? You seem to know that I don't take negative energy lightly."
When he glanced at Edward, the blonde gave him a look as if to say 'don't look at me.' Scar turned back to (Y/n).
"We have no time for petty conflict."
"I agree," she shot back.
"I'm willing to be your ally."
"Fine."
(Y/n) cocked a brow, awaiting the question that Scar really wanted to ask.
"What business do you have with a Homunculus?" he questioned.
She knew she didn't have to explain anything to him, but if Scar was genuinely willing to build some kind of trust between the three of them, then it was only fair for him to know. The man had learned a lot in a short amount of time, and (Y/n) could understand that he was probably losing his mind over the fact that State Alchemists weren't his true foes.
"His name's Greed. He turned away from the rest of the Homunculi to help us. He's not bad, just like how not every State Alchemist is a murderer. I wouldn't be so defensive of him if he wasn't trustworthy. He shares his vessel with a human, so even if he happened to turn on us, he has the boy to fight against him," she said. "That's all you need to know."
When Scar seemed to accept the response he was given, Edward decided that it was only appropriate to ask him a few questions in return.
"Now that we're on the topic of what we need to know, who are you here with? It's impossible for you to have come here by yourself, considering that you were just healing from really bad wounds. And you said that you have some kind of source filling you in on all the crap that's been going on."
"That's hardly anything that concerns you."
"How do we know we can trust you if you don't tell us the kind of people you hang around? We deserve to have our suspicions."
(Y/n)'s lips twitched upward.
Scar's expression hardened. "It's no one that concerns you."
"I find that hard to believe."
"No, truly. It's no one that concerns you. One is a former alchemist and the other is a scientist I've been sworn to secrecy by. I can not give his name, but I assure you they are just travelers down my path."
Edward rolled his eyes and lowered his arm from in front of (Y/n). "I assume the scientist is the one that told you everything."
"He is," he nodded. "Are you both not from the East? What are you doing in North City?"
(Y/n) and Edward explained their situation as vaguely as possible, claiming that they were there to see Alphonse, a friend, and nothing more. They spoke of the fact that (Y/n)'s father had done something that made the father of the Homunculi angry, who Scar had just learned was the Homunculus who had authority over the others, and that they were just trying to make sure that their loved ones were safe. When they said that they were heading to Fort Briggs, Scar became slightly intrigued. (Y/n) recalled that it was incredibly hard to get to Briggs from when Roy took her to a meeting in the fortress during their last trip north. Unfortunately for her, she could barely remember the twists and turns that led them to the fort in the first place.
Scar surprisingly pointed them into the direction of a man who led people out into the empty part of the north, where there was nothing but snow covered the land leading toward the fortress standing between Amestris and Drachma. Before the two left, (Y/n) stopped herself. She needed to know a few more things before she simply walked away. She didn't know when the opportunity would present itself to her to learn more about the deadly path of vengeance- to learn some kind of way to help her dad when she'd see him again.
The Ishvalan was about to turn his shoulder without another word when (Y/n) called him. He glanced down at her out of the corner of his eye. "Edward, you can go on ahead. I need to talk to him about something."
Edward, of course, was not pleased. "Like hell that's happening." (Y/n) turned to him and gave him a serious look. He frowned. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not leaving you here with the former serial killer."
"Ed, please."
The blonde groaned. "I'll wait out there, but I'm staying close by. You understand?"
"Thank you."
He grunted as he stomped away, eying the Ishvalan before he left the alley and disappeared around the corner. Scar turned his body to face (Y/n) once again, and now that they were alone, she felt a bit colder than she had before.
Though he was confused, Scar was curious as to what the Empath Alchemist had to say to him that she didn't want Edward to hear. Or maybe it was less about making sure Edward wasn't involved and more about having the conversation one on one because it was about something important to her. Something that Edward was not experiencing, only her.
Scar didn't ask her what she wanted, for he knew she would speak when she found the right words.
"What did my dad do to you?" she asked quietly after taking a deep breath. This was the last thing that Scar had expected to be asked by the Mustang, and it showed in the way his brows raised slightly. "I remember you said that growing close to him had been a mistake. You made it clear that you were after me, not just because of my position in the military, but because of who my father is. You talked about him like he'd done something to you, specifically. Like it was personal... I don't know much about the Ishvalan War. Roy's never told me much about it except for the fact that it was caused by the death of an Ishvalan girl, and now that I know that was Envy's fault, so...
"I'm not sure what to believe. Roy was close to telling me about everything that happened in Ishval, but he never got around to it. He said he'd been avoiding it, and it must have slipped my mind that he promised to tell me what happened. I guess I'm asking you because I don't have any form of connection with him at the moment, and I'd appreciate it if I could learn something about him that'll give me a clearer view of things."
Scar could honestly say that he was taken aback. He hadn't heard any Amestrian genuinely try to ask him what went wrong in the Civil War. Granted, they had all been too busy trying to incarcerate him to ask questions, but for (Y/n) to voluntarily ask him what her father had done to him to make him so vengeful was truly something that he had not been prepared for. It made him wonder, was this for the sake of understanding his point of view or had Roy Mustang done something unspeakable? He noticed that (Y/n) claimed that she didn't have any kind of connection to him, meaning that they were either forcibly separated or Roy Mustang was not behaving in a respectable manner. He must have done something to make (Y/n) doubt her trust in him and his trust in her. Scar was never a fan of the Flame Alchemist anyhow, but he didn't understand how he was allowing himself to get entangled in his personal life. He didn't understand why he asked further questions, in order to understand her situation.
"I'll tell you what you want to know about the Ishvalan War. But before I do, let me ask you this- what has the Flame Alchemist done to make you desperate enough to ask the man who wished to kill him for information?"
(Y/n)'s lashes fluttered against her cheek as she looked down at the ground and blinked. He had a real point. None of Roy's issues were any of his business, and after the spiel she had given the Ishvalan about telling him only what he needed to know, she sounded hypocritical... and like he said, desperate. But Scar was the only one who would understand. He was the only one who knew what it was like to be blinded by red, to see nothing but red, to feel nothing but red. To forget everything you learned that contributed to your moral code, and to simply act on rage. Scar knew it better than anyone, and he knew the Ishvalan War better than anyone she'd ever grown close to. Despite the fact that they had other things to take care of that morning, she simply had to know. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to sleep at night knowing she had the chance to learn about what Roy had failed to teach her.
"General Maes Hughes was my dad's best friend. When Envy killed him, something snapped in him."
Now he understood clearly. With just a simple phrase, Scar could see exactly what direction this conversation was headed. It was all too clear now, why she had been looking at him like he was to blame for something beyond their fear for their lives. "How far has he gone?" he asked, simply.
"He's cut himself off from everyone, I'm sure. He hasn't called me at all since I last saw him, which is really unlike him. And he killed a Homunculus that worked closely with Envy."
"You said he killed a Homunculus?"
"Yeah. I'm sure you know he's strong, but I didn't know that he was capable of killing something that can't be killed."
Scar almost felt offended, embarrassed even. He'd thought himself to be strong. In fact, he gave the military an extremely hard time because of the fact that he was quick and calculated, ginormous but light on his feet. He never thought that his strength would end up being something that he needed to improve on, something that didn't give him the upper hand. Envy, a scrawny little Homunculus that moved around like a snake, had been able to catch him off guard and break him down. Roy Mustang, a human and a State Alchemist that Scar hated, had been able to not only defeat a Homunculus, but completely destroy it. Scar had never had to question his strength or his purpose before, and once again his brother came to mind. His brother had always thought Scar to be strong, terribly capable. Scar was failing him once again, everything good that his brother had thought about him was slowly crumbling.
"I see. You're conflicted because though he's proven his strength, he's acting only on rage."
"It's not just that. He had been- he'd been ordered not to do anything reckless or else someone close to me and Ed would die," she said as she rubbed her temples. "He's not stupid, and after what happened to Maes, he'd never do that if he were in the right mind. He's been acting weird for almost two weeks, and I know he's only getting worse. I just don't know how to help him, and you're the only person who knows what it's like to feel what he's feeling."
"He sounds like a pitiful man," Scar spoke, casting his gaze to the side ominously. "I should know."
"But that's not him. He's a good man, he just forgot-" (Y/n) cut herself off and slowly looked up at the shameful man before her. "Like you did."
"You shouldn't say that."
"All I said was that you used to be good. If you're angry that you're so far gone from who you once were, don't take it out on me."
"I suppose," he grunted. "Do you know where the Flame Alchemist is now?"
"He's still in Central, I think. I don't really know anything else."
"And the whereabouts of the Homunculus?"
"I have no idea."
"That's not ideal. It's important that he stays away from Envy. The moment he is within his grasp, and the moment he kills him... your father will be gone."
(Y/n) had already known that to be true, but hearing it out loud was like a punch to her gut. She tried to remain calm and to keep a stern face, but it was hard to do so when her father's enemy told her that she could lose him if he wasn't careful. She could lose the first person she ever knew after her parents died. The only person who'd been willing to truly care for her, even in his young age. He loved her, at least she thought he did. She thought that no matter the trials and tribulations, he'd listen to her and love her like any father would- like any father was supposed to. But hatred was a powerful thing, and it was proving to be more powerful than love.
(Y/n) didn't want to believe that.
"I figured that much... I was actually hoping you'd say something more optimistic."
"Optimism won't give you realistic answers. Not in this case, at least."
(Y/n) smiled tightly. "Right."
Scar shook his head slightly before he opened his mouth to speak. "The Ishvalan War of Extermination is what people call it," he started, his eyes growing distant as he proceeded. (Y/n) watched him sadly as he commenced with the tale of sorrow and destruction.
"Ishvalans and Amestrians had a rich history of conflict. We could never see eye to eye, and our people had even been pushed to the Eastern area closest to the desert by your people. In their eyes, we were outcasts. People that you wanted no relationship with. Our disagreements ranged from cultural to religious differences. We were just too different to come to some kind of understanding, so we separated ourselves from each other. Though we did not necessarily like one another, we tolerated each other from a distance. Amestrians would live their lives away from us, and we would live our lives our lives away from them. It was a mutual understanding between both peoples until 1901. When what we'd thought to be an Amestrian soldier shot an Ishvalan child in the head. Everything went to hell, and my family and I had just been trying to survive- confused, having no clue as to why something as treacherous as this would befall our livelihoods."
(Y/n) could see it clearly in her head, the vivid picture Scar painted. The rise and fall of the Amestrian-Ishvalan relationship, the Homunculus disguised in an innocent man's flesh and bone, shooting an innocent child with a sinister smile stretched across his face, and the chaos that soon followed. The horrific violence, the pain, the war that arose.
"The bloodshed had gone on for another seven years, and then the State Alchemists came. We thought that it couldn't get any worse, but we were massacred. By those of your occupation, under yet another Homunculus' rule. It makes more sense now that I know that Fuhrer King Bradley is one of them, otherwise I still would wonder why the order had been sent out to wipe us out in the first place. I assumed it was because State Alchemists are pigs, but it seems that it is not all of them. I was wrong," he said, his eyes flickering up at (Y/n).
"Your father and his friend were among them. The military used them as human weapons, completely disregarding their moral code as well as the weight of the circumstances. My brother was killed by your men."
(Y/n)'s heart dropped. "Y-Your brother?"
Scar mutely pulled up his sleeve of his left arm up to his elbow, revealing the sleeve of tattoos cascading up his arm. When (Y/n) looked closely, she recognized a few familiar symbols. The rest seemed like complex gibberish.
"That's alchemy..." she concluded.
"It's my brother's work," Scar pulled down his sleeve. "He died saving my life. He used his body to block an attack, and when I was wounded he cut off his arm and transmuted it onto me. I woke up, and discovered he was gone. Everyone was gone. In that moment, I vowed to kill every single State Alchemist I could, in order to avenge my brother. This is where that path has brought me.
"This alchemy has always been my brother's craft. He spent months discovering everything he could about it, and I never understood why. The people who wielded this power killed him, yet he relied on it to give me life."
"I didn't know about your brother," she said, guiltily. "I didn't know that... my dad was sent to kill your people. I didn't know that's what happened down there, I thought it was just a conflict that you fought out."
"It's not just the reason why the Alchemists were there. It's the immense damage they caused. They didn't just kill, they destroyed us. They slaughtered us. Dug us out of our hiding and used their demonic power to stain the streets red. The scent of burnt fleshing was common during the war."
"He-" (Y/n) held her head in her hands and breathed deeply. She didn't know this was what he had done, she had no idea. She had been completely in the dark, and nobody had bothered to tell her about it except for the survivor that had sworn vengeance on the Amestrian community. (Y/n) was mortified, but not because she learned that her father had murdered thousands upon thousands of innocent people, but because he had kept it from her. All this time, he'd said nothing. She would have understood if she'd gotten an explanation directly from him, but it was worse to hear it from someone who was a victim of his flames. Roy had even admitted to purposely keeping information about the war from her.
She understood he was scared, but fear had no reason to hide things from her. Fear was no reason to justify his unspoken insecurities, to justify keeping his daughter in the dark, when she deserved to know what he had been doing when he was gone for such a long period of time. Fear didn't justify secrecy, or overpower trust. Fear did not say whether (Y/n) would know something that affected her as much as it affected the Flame Alchemist. Fear was not an excuse. At least, not one that (Y/n) would tolerate.
All this time, Roy had been keeping things from her. He didn't trust her, and (Y/n) almost blamed herself for that lack of trust. He didn't trust her to handle things that she was old enough to handle, he didn't trust that she loved him more than his worst mistakes- therefore he couldn't have trusted himself to do the same.
Who was Roy Mustang? Was he a bright, tactical genius that worked hard to achieve his goals? Was he a liar, a fraud who lived in fear of being forgotten- being unloved? Was he the merciless Flame Alchemist that murdered Ishvalan people without question, snapping and lighting a single town ablaze with his scarlet flames? Was he a father, who put his daughter before any and everything? Who stressed himself out wondering why she was a minute late to curfew, or why she was spending so much time with a young boy who looked at her with a bit too much fondness in his eyes for his liking? Was he a man who lost himself in pits of rage, who killed in order to feed the scorching fire that burned within his chest? Who forgot all about the people who loved him?
Who was he? (Y/n) wasn't even sure anymore.
"I'm so sorry about everything," (Y/n) apologized, sincerely. Scar stared at her, slightly stunned. "I'm sorry about your brother, and your people. I'm sorry that any of that had to happen. I wish it hadn't. I know apologizing is pointless, since it happened so long ago and... well, since you can't change the past. But you should know, none of the State Alchemists wanted to do what they did. They still did it though, and for that I'm sorry."
Scar regained his composure that (Y/n) hadn't realized faltered. "I'm sorry about your General. And your father."
(Y/n)'s brows curled slightly as Scar walked up to her. He was tall, and it felt like his shadow swallowed her whole, the same way it had when he tried to kill her. Only this time, she didn't shiver.
"The path of vengeance is one that is the hardest to escape. You must get to him as soon as possible, if you want to help him."
"I'm working on it."
The Ishvalan cleared his throat. "I'll be going now. Be cautious as you get closer to the fort."
He turned to walk down the alleyway.
"Scar." he stopped. "I don't forget, but I forgive you."
"...I'm sure we'll meet again." He remained still for a few moments before walking off, leaving (Y/n) to clutch her arms in the cold as she stared off into the direction he vanished.
Edward and (Y/n) rode side by side in the wooden cart that a short, meek man drove out of the city. She'd gone quiet again, just as she always did when she was deep in thought. The only thing Edward forced her to tell him was if Scar had tried to hurt her, and though he wasn't thrilled about the fact that the two shared a conversation that he was not a part of, all that mattered was that she was unharmed. After a while of riding across the bumpy concrete covered in snow, their bodies jumping slightly as the cart lifted itself up over rough terrain, (Y/n) finally told Edward what she asked Scar.
The blonde was equally as horrified to learn about the truth behind the Ishvalan War, but he didn't understand the emotions that (Y/n) was experiencing surrounding her father. She'd never thought she'd have to question Roy's relationship with her, and the more she was learning about him the more she felt like she didn't know him at all.
The cart finally pulled to a stop, and the teen alchemists looked around them in confusion. It was practically the middle of nowhere, and as far as the eye could see, there was snow. The sky was a pale gray, almost making the horizon difficult to point out. As Edward hopped off of the truck and held out his hand to help (Y/n) down, he made out the outline of the ginormous fort. From where they stood, it looked big, which told them both how far they were and how large Briggs truly was.
(Y/n) grabbed Ed's hand and hopped onto the snow. She dug into her pockets and fished out a few cents, then rounded the vehicle to meet the man in the driver's seat. She smiled at him kindly and dropped her money into his hand, thanking him for the trip. He nodded gratefully and drove off. Huffing, the (e/c) eyed girl buttoned her collar up to her neck and braced herself for the trek through the snow she was about to embark on.
"You still like the snow, Ed?" she asked as the boy stood beside her and pulled his hood over his head.
"Don't be cute," he grumbled, and (Y/n) snorted. He turned to face her with a serious look. "Let me know if you get too cold."
"Edward, I'll be fine. I'm not the one who's experiencing this kind of weather for the first time."
"Yeah, well, it shouldn't be that difficult. Briggs can't be that far."
Oh, but it was difficult. And apparently, Briggs was very far.
It felt like they had been walking for hours, lips trembling and feet aching. The snow seemed to get deeper as they trudged on, and the further they moved, the farther it seemed Briggs had gotten.
"How the hell is somebody supposed to get through all of this on a daily basis," Edward complained as he moved on.
"It's not like Briggs is an approachable place," (Y/n) sniffed, squinting when she felt snow fall into her boots. "They probably made it as far out of grasp as they possibly could on purpose."
"Who gave them the right. They're no different from any other Command Center. I don't give a damn if they block us from Drachma, they could have moved the fort closer."
"That would've defeated the entire purpose of blocking out Drachma," (Y/n) almost laughed, but her chattering teeth wouldn't let her do so for every long. Edward frowned and turned to look at her.
"You're cold."
"No shit, Ed. We're literally making our way further up a mountain."
"Take my coat, then."
(Y/n) turned to glare at the boy, an animated vein popping over her forehead as she glowered at him. "That has to be the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."
"Excuse me for trying to be nice!"
"Dumbass, what would you do if I was idiotic enough to actually take it? You'd freeze!"
"Better me than you! Here-" he stopped and removed his hoodie. (Y/n) gasped loudly and lunged at him, grabbing his hood and tugging it aggressively back over his head. "Ow- LET ME BREATHE, DAMMIT!"
His hands moved to grasp her wrists as she tightened her death grip on his hood. "I'm not gonna let you get hypothermia because you think that giving up your freaking coat is a smart thing to do!" she exclaimed, sniffing loudly as snot ran from her nose. She groaned in frustration as Edward continued to fight against her, when she desperately needed to let go and wipe her nose. "Hold still! Why do you have to be so stubborn when-"
She stopped and looked out in front of her as a shiver wracked her body. Not one inflicted by the low temperature, one that told her she had to put her guard back up. They weren't alone, and it was hard to see much of anything past the cloud of snow blown into the air by a gust of wind. Her shoulders stiffened and her grip on Edward's fabric loosened as she looked around with constricted pupils.
Edward took the opportunity to swat her hands away and free himself from her grasp. He was about to continue their argument as his hoodie slipped off his head when he noticed the familiar stance she took. Her posture straightened and her neck craned forward as she looked around, trying to make out a figure or some kind of sound that would give away another person's presence in the midst of this sudden snow cloud.
He knew what that meant, and as she drew her hands together to prepare for transmutation, Edward did the same and transmuted his blade. The two looked around them carefully, unhappy with the fact that they could barely see. They circled each other, facing opposite directions until their backs pressed together as they continued looking off into the distance. (Y/n) didn't dare let her eyes close for a second, not even to blink. She lifted her wrist slowly to wipe her nose when she suddenly sensed someone on her left. Grunting, she clapped her hands together and transmuted her Shortsword.
"Ed, your left!" she shouted out into the air, and the Fullmetal Alchemist was instantly met with the vision of a large, razor like metal contraption cutting through the thick air. (Y/n)'s eyes widened as the contraption flew down above Edward's head, but before she could jump in the blonde blocked it with his metal forearm.
The foggy snow cleared, revealing a bulky figure that (Y/n) did not take the time to examine. She recalled her training with Greed, for it had been a while since she'd fought, but she didn't second guess herself as she did when she trained. She saw her friend in danger, and her fight or flight instantly kicked in. Her instincts as a highly trained soldier helped her focus and see a clear objective- get this person away from Ed.
She turned her left shoulder inward in order to duck under Edward's arm and charge in from behind the figure. The contraption appeared to be some kind of automail, therefore (Y/n) could deduce that it was a right arm rather than a left. She rounded the back of the figure, kicking up snow as she moved, and tilted her head downward. She placed the handle of her blade between her teeth, and her nose continued to run, much to her displeasure. Facing the man's legs from upside down, (Y/n) placed her hands on the grown and threw her legs above her head in a handstand position, allowing her to use her upper body strength to propel herself upward and swiftly land a kick to the man's face with her left leg as half of her body hovered over his left shoulder in preparation for landing in front of him. Before she could touch the ground, the figure's left arm grabbed her by the front of her shirt midair. She noticed that his left arm was a flesh hand, and even so it held an unnaturally strong grip on her. She grasped the large, pale hand that lifted her into the sky. Before she could focus her vision to get a good look at the face of her assaulter, she felt her body being forced downward. The air was knocked out of her as her body was pushed down into the freezing cold snow, causing her to release a yelp.
Edward had watched the entire ordeal and trembled in anger when this stranger's hand thrusted (Y/n) into the ground. His heart clenched as the sound of discomfort left her lips, and his mind momentarily went blank. His objective- get this person away from (Y/n). He gritted his teeth harshly and retracted his automail from the figure's.
"Get your hands off of her!" he demanded, jumping upward and twisting his body around midair to land a kick on the figure's automail. The figure didn't budge when Ed landed, and he was about to go in for another attack when a pain shot through the stub connecting his automail his flesh. He hissed loudly and stumbled backwards, taken aback by the random ache that he had experienced. (Y/n) noticed from where she'd been pinned to the ground, and she was about to yell out to her best friend when she finally caught a glimpse of the man that was using his strength to keep her down with one hand.
She took in the navy blue military uniform, and the long dark blazer that he wore over top of it. He had a menacing face, his cheek bones obnoxiously defined and black whiskers cascading from underneath his nose. His hair was styled into that of a mohawk, where the black stripe down the middle of his head ended in a long braid to make up for the lack of hair everywhere else. His metal automail stood proudly and intimidatingly from underneath his sleeve, and his head was turned to monitor Edward's movements. He looked familiar, now that she was able to take in his appearance, though it was from an uncomfortable point of view. She'd seen him somewhere... definitely not on the trip she took to the north with Roy but in some kind of file at some point...
Anyhow, it didn't matter where she knew him from. The fact that he was dressed in blue, decorated in honorary badges, and had a face she could say was familiar was enough for her to know that he wasn't an enemy. This was a military soldier, likely from Briggs. That explained the brutal force and the paranoid attack without so much as asking any questions.
"Wait a minute, you're a soldier!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled by the sword resting between her teeth. She watched Edward closely out of the corner of her eye. When the Elric managed to regain himself, he looked over to her (Y/n) with concern in his eyes. His instinct was to get to her, but then he realized that in order to get to her he had to go through this man. But once he actually registered (Y/n)'s words into his brain, he did a double take upon taking in the man's appearance before him.
"You're right! What the hell are you attacking us for, you're part of the military just like us!" Edward shouted.
The man chuckled deeply, his voice making (Y/n) suddenly worried that he was as moronic as they came. "Trying to bait me, are ya?" he asked, still not looking down at the girl who was wriggling under his grip. "I'll be damned, they train you little punks early, don't they?"
"What are you talking about?!" Edward asked, now utterly at a loss. When the man pushed (Y/n) a bit deeper into the snow, all the hairs on Edward's neck raised on end. "I don't care who you work for, just get the hell off of her or you'll regret it."
A strange look flickered in Ed's eyes, and (Y/n) knew it well. He was about to do something stupid, while he was in pain. It must have been the weather. His automail was built for warm conditions, not necessarily conditions that could freeze the gears in his arm in less than twenty minutes. He needed to get to Winry, and she was no longer so far out of reach. If this guy was from Briggs, he could take them there once he stopped to hear them out.
"Don't play dumb with me, Drachman rat! I know who you are and why you're here!"
"Clearly you don't, or else you'd take a damn second to have a normal conversation with us!" He saw (Y/n) lift her left arm to grab her sword from her mouth. The man noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye and lifted her effortlessly back into the air, as if dangling her before Edward's eyes to taunt him. (Y/n) cursed under her breath and searched for some way to break free.
"I'm not asking you again," Edward lowered his chin as he glared up at the gigantic man. The semi bald soldier laughed loudly.
"I didn't know you people had hearts. She must mean a great deal to you. Maybe I'll take her in for some questioning..."
The sound of something tearing ripped through the air, and the man turned to see that the girl he'd captured had sliced the piece of fabric he held in order to free herself from his grip. Ed was quick to move before he even understood what she was doing. In a split second, despite the second ache that ran through his arm, he was underneath (Y/n) and supporting her fall. Granted, landing in the snow would have prevented her from getting injured, but she'd been exposed to the snow far too much for someone who was dressed in the proper material. If she wasn't careful, she'd end up with frostbite. Ed caught her in his arms and stumbled back from the soldier, setting her carefully onto the ground.
(Y/n) looked down at her torn shirt and frowned. She'd worn a blank tank top underneath her button up, therefore too much of her skin wasn't exposed due to the cold. Still, it was enough for her to feel the chilled wind against her chest and collarbone. She growled and finally wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve.
She dug into her pocket for a state certified watch, but she was unable to pull it out due to the shadow of the man's automail moving over her head. She caught it with both of her hands before it could impact her in any way, and she hadn't expected it to be as heavy as it was. She clenched her jaw harshly as she pushed against the automail, and the man's face almost fell when he felt her inch it closer to him with all of her strength. Before she could transmute again, Edward was throwing his body into hers as the automail came down over her a second time, and landed in the snow where she had stood with a thud.
"God dammit!" she huffed, pushing Edward off of her and picking herself up off the snow. The man looked down at her and cocked his brow as she stumbled clumsily, suddenly interested in what had gotten her so riled up before he tried to bash her head with his giant ass claw. She marched up to him, and Edward had to grab her arm to keep her from moving forward any further. She sniffed angrily, (e/c) eyes teary due to the cold and brows arched to hell. She had grown terribly impatient. She was cold, she wanted to see Al and Winry, and her friend needed his automail fixed. On top of that, she learned some things about Roy that didn't particularly make her feel great about their bond as father and daughter. She was tired of getting thrown around by someone who refused to listen, and in an instant she transferred into that of a mother scolding a disobedient child while Edward held her back.
"I don't know who you are or where you came from, but it's not like you'll give us a damn chance to figure it out! We've been walking in this godforsaken snow for forty five minutes, and I'm not gonna be thrown around like some rag doll by a man who doesn't have the common sense to look at us before he goes charging in like a mad man! Do we look like we're from Drachma to you? We came from the south, how the fuck would we be from Drachma? Especially when you guys have this big ass fort that divides that country from ours, making it literally impossible for anyone from Drachma to get in or out! We're teenagers, and I know everyone has a thing for trying to kill us lately but, please, for God's sake, give us a break! We are State Alchemists and we're just trying to get to Fort Briggs to see our friends, so if you could take us there, that would be perfect!"
Edward's mouth fell agape before he had to stifle his laughter, while the man before them looked down at her with an unreadable expression. She threw her arms up in the air, mindful of the fact that Edward was still holding onto her. When she received no response from the man, who no longer looked cocky but rather peeved. (Y/n) cocked her brow.
"Well?"
As soon as the single word left her mouth, she heard the cock of guns surrounding her. Edward instantly pressed the girl into his chest, the sound being an ugly reminder of something that they did not want to experience for themselves. Ed and (Y/n) blinked cluelessly, and when they looked around, five soldiers in white surrounded them with guns pointed to their heads. Edward ground his teeth together and pulled (Y/n) impossibly further into him, displeased with the sight of guns pointing into her direction. The man that had attacked them lowered his arms as the soldiers ordered the pair to hold their hands above their heads. Edward was on the verge of cursing each of them out when (Y/n) complied with the orders, giving him no choice but to release her and do the same. The black haired soldier rubbed the side of his cheek that (Y/n) had kicked before barking some orders at the other soldiers. Before the alchemists knew it, they were being marched further up the mountain with guns pointed to their backs.
When they were finally told to stop, the young State Alchemists looked up and gaped at the magnificent sight before them. Stretching across the vast area and connecting into snowy fragments of mountain was the infamous Fort Briggs. At the very top of it were stationed canons, posing as a threat to anyone who dared to wander the premises unauthorized. Many yards below the top was a balcony where two figures stood frighteningly. One was a white haired man wearing circular, opaque glasses while the other was a gorgeous blonde woman with the face and stature of a predator.
"Holy crap," Edward breathed as he examined the mountain fortress. "I've heard stories about this place, but I didn't think that they'd be true. It's incredible."
"It would be more incredible if we didn't have guns shoved in our faces," (Y/n) said. She looked up to the people glaring down at her and blinked when she took in the appearance of the woman adorned in a military uniform. "She looks familiar..." she whispered.
"Wait a minute, you're right. Where have I seen that swirly blonde hair before," Ed pondered.
It suddenly came to (Y/n). "Hold on, I remember now! I've met her before, with Roy!" she hissed excitedly, turning to make eye contact with the golden eyed boy beside her. "That's Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong."
Edward caught on. "General Armstrong's older sister!"
"Quiet!" her commanding voice exclaimed, causing Ed and (Y/n) to squeak and turn their attention completely to her. She narrowed her brows intensely, turning her gaze to the soldier that stood beside (Y/n). "Captain Buccaneer!"
He turned to face her stiffly. "Yes, sir!" he barked back.
"Who the hell are these rodents?"
Edward's eye visibly twitched in response to the nickname.
"I found them wandering about! I'm sure they're Drachman spies, but they claim to be part of Amestrian Military!"
"How many times do we have to tell you that we're not spies!" Edward barked
"Did I not say 'quiet'?!" (Y/n) cringed when she yelled again. Her voice had such imperative power, that it was hard to look as if they weren't frightened by her presence. (Y/n) had only seen her in person once, she hadn't actually spoken with her before. But she was indeed the exact opposite of her younger brother, in both manner and appearance. Alexander Armstrong was kind, bubbly, and a tad bit egotistical. Though he had a strange habit of stripping his shirt off and boisterously going on rants about things that no one necessarily understood, he had a big heart. On the outside, he was a terrifying mountain of a man. On the inside, he was just a big softie.
Olivier, on the other hand, was a completely different story. Soldiers in the north were trained much differently than those in any other sanction of Amestris. They were disciplined, they had to be in order to defend their country from Drachma. They lived and thrived in the harshest conditions, and they did so without complaints. Olivier was a strong leader, and she didn't take shit from anyone. She was hard as stone, headstrong and courageous. She did not have time to behave the way her younger brother did. Love and affection did not fit into her priorities. What she knew was survival. What she knew was to fight, and that was exactly why she was in the north while her brother was further south.
"Who are you?" she spat, looking between (Y/n) and Ed with watchful eyes. Edward had been hesitant to speak, and (Y/n) realized a tad too late that Olivier had been asking her to answer since she told Ed to be quiet. "Do not make me ask again."
"I'm the Empath Alchemist, (Y/n) Mustang! And this is Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist! We're here to see Edward's mechanic, Winry, and his brother, Alphonse! They both should be here. One's a giant suit of armor. He's hard to miss."
Olivier narrowed her eyes. "Did you say Mustang?"
"Y-Yes, Colonel Roy Mustang is my father."
She gritted her teeth, her mouth twisting in a snarl. "And why the hell should I let you in? Colonel Mustang is a fool. He didn't send you here, did he?"
"No! We- there was an incident, and we just need to see them. If you'd just make an exception-"
"You're a long way from home, little girl," she interjected. (Y/n) didn't much appreciate her tone, "I suggest you turn back now, unless you want to freeze to death waiting out for nothing."
"So you're not gonna let us in? After I told you we're not enemies?"
"Why should I let you in if all you'll do is cause more trouble for my men?" Olivier moved closer to the railing to look down at the Mustang. "This brother you speak of is behind bars, and you will be too if you don't get out of my sight. Run back to your father, I don't have time for this."
"Now hold on just a minute-" Edward started, but was cut off by the synchronized sound of guns cocking once again. (Y/n) whipped her head around to see the mountain soldiers still on high alert.
"Leave," the Major General spoke monotonously. "Now."
"He needs to see his mechanic to get his automail looked at! We came all this way, don't you understand that we're not here to bother you?" (Y/n) pleaded, her hands falling slightly as she spoke.
"The only thing you'll do is keep more secrets, just like that tin man did. Unless you give us answers about why the hell more of you keep showing up at my fort, I won't let you in."
"Whatever we're dealing with is none of your business!"
"It is when you bring your issues to my territory!" (Y/n) faltered when Olivier's hands gripped the railing as she yelled at her. "You're just like him. You don't know when to quit."
"Listen to me," (Y/n) started, dropping her arms to her sides. In an instant, Captain Buccaneer was holding his automail toward her head in case she were to make a wrong move. Olivier caught the way Edward was about to march over to him, and she was quick to tell him to stay put. He had no choice but to comply with his hands still in the air.
"I honestly don't give a damn if this is insubordination, but I'm tired. Okay? I'm exhausted and the shit that the both of us have had to endure is not a light weight to carry around. You're the third person I've lectured today, and I'm getting a little sick of having to prove myself to adults who take one look at us and decide we're inferior. My friend's brother and mechanic are within your walls, and I will not leave until you at least let him in to see them. What we have been through is none of your business, and it's not really your place to question Alphonse' appearance here when the order was issued out from Fuhrer Bradley himself to keep him under your watch. My dad is not here, and you don't get to cast me aside because he can't take care of himself. I'm done being nice. Lady, I will stand here until you have to shoot me. I'm not going anywhere until your men get these guns out of our faces and I get a tissue."
The man standing beside Olivier looked shocked, unsure of what was about to happen. The mountain soldiers and Captain Buccaneer stiffened as if they were expecting an avalanche to appear or any kind of natural disaster. Edward looked a bit too proud for someone who was being held at gunpoint, and Olivier said nothing as she stared at (Y/n) with cold eyes.
The (e/c) eyed girl placed her hands on her hips, awaiting some kind of response. On the inside, she was dreading the worst, but she had to admit that she felt a bit empowered. All this pent up frustration was beginning to branch out in different ways, and (Y/n) was surprised by how forward she had been in the span of a few hours.
Olivier leaned back from the railing and gave a swift nod. The men around the teenagers slowly lowered their weapons in accordance with their General's silent command.
"God, you've got no respect just like him, too," she seethed, folding her arms behind her back. "Pat them down!"
(Y/n) clenched her jaw as unfamiliar hands invaded her personal space and patted down her body as her hands raised to give them access. She could feel the annoyance waving off of Edward as he was searched, and the soldiers stopped at both of their pockets to pull out identical silver watches.
"Sir, they're carrying State Certified watches! They really are State Alchemists!" one of them shouted.
"I figured that much," Olivier grumbled. Edward snatched his watch back as (Y/n) was handed hers. "I hope you know that once you're in here, we're not letting you go so easily. Like it or not, you will be facing questioning. By me. Am I clear, Mustang and Elric?"
"Yes," the two responded in unison.
"Tch. And work on that god awful attitude. The only reason you're not dead is because you had the balls to yell at me."
Edward and (Y/n) exchanged weary glances as the gates opened before them.
"Show them to the boy's cell! And someone go get the Mustang brat a tissue!"