(the art above does not belong to me!)
Chapter 8 - Dr Marcoh
Much to my utmost displeasure, I am now squashed beside none other than Major Armstrong. Next to me, also getting crushed to the window, is Edward. He looks thoroughly pissed at the decisions made by everyone to have the Major be our escort. But, to be fair, their motives are reasonable.
-
"Are you saying you're going to leave like you are now when you might be attacked by Scar again?" Hawkeye asks after Edward refused to be escorted by Armstrong. "Doesn't it make sense to give you an escort who can stand up to him?"
"And you can't carry Al around with that body, can you?" Havoc intervenes.
-
After that, Alphonse was packaged up as luggage (much to both Edward's and my displeasure), and we made our way to the train station. We haven't yet left the station, but we are uncomfortable and aggravated. I try to keep my stoic composure, but my patience is wearing thin.
A knock on the window of the train brings our attention to the sound.
Just outside on the platform stands Maes Hughes.
"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" Edward exclaims.
"Hey," he greets. I wave to my father, and he kindly returns the gesture. "The guys from H.Q. were too busy to drop by, so they sent me here instead. And I've brought a message from Roy."
"From the Colonel?" Edward asks, obviously surprised.
"'Post-processing is a bit of a pain, so I will not permit you to die within my jurisdiction," he recites. "That's all."
Edward's expression does a U-turn and becomes aggressive.
"Tell him, 'Roger that, I will not die before you, Colonel Shit'."
Hughes chuckles heartily.
"Wicked brats are aplenty in the world!" he laughs. "You and that bastard Roy ought to have long lives!"
Finally, he subsides his laughing to look at me with softened eyes. I get up from my cramped seat and walk closer to the window. I reach through the small flap and pat him gently on the head.
"Farewell, Dad," I say.
With those words, he pulls his arms through the window and attempts to squeeze the living daylights out of me.
"I love you, Elle," he whispers in my ear. I smile softly, and he releases his hold on my shoulders.
A whistle sounds a moment later to call all passengers on, for the train is about to depart. Hughes recoils and salutes the three of us goodbye.
"Well then, be careful on your journey!" he says as we salute him back; Edward and I using our left hands and apologising for it. "If you pop by central, give a holler."
The train steadily chugs through the station and out of view with the Major, Edward and myself squished back together. I close my eyes slowly and begin to doze off, thinking about meeting my first, and very old friend.
'I wonder how much she has changed?'
-
What feels like moments later, I am woken by a heavy banging on my stomach. I slowly open my eyes to see the ground moving beneath me. I look around sceptically and notice that I am slung over the Majoy's shoulder, along with Alphonse on the other, still in his crate. I examine the current environment more and see that we are in a different town, not Resenbool, but defiantly a city we weren't planning on stopping at.
"You're awake!" Alphonse chirps from his crate, his helmet just peeking over the top.
"What's going on?" I ask, feeling slightly huffy from not knowing that I had been picked up sooner. Slight pain in my head, however, tells me that Armstrong had put measures in place to keep me unconscious for our unscheduled stop.
"We spotted Dr Marcoh from the train," the Major explains.
I already know who this Dr Marcoh is; a very talented alchemist who helped Central Alchemists a while back, but suddenly disappeared after the war.
"I see," I say. "So, we are trying to find him?"
"Yes, indeed."
"But I don't see why we need to." I prop myself up on my elbows as I continue to speak. "We already have documents about him back at Central. We need to get to Resenbool-"
My next words are cut off when I feel myself sliding off Armstrong's shoulder. He has put Alphonse's crate on the ground and is now cradling me in one arm.
"What are you doing?" I ask, monotoned as per usual.
"I'm sorry to have to do this, Elleah," he apologises.
Before I can ask for his reasons, the question is answered when the Major's fist comes crashing down on my skull. It's not a hard enough blow to cause internal damage, but it is enough to knock me out for a few hours and cause him to be in a whirlwind of trouble when I wake up.
-
The next time I wake up, I find myself in the corner of a dark-ish room. I squint through my eyelids to examine the area. The place is basic and shabby, looking like a classic village building. I roll my head slowly to my right where I see a large crate, the contents being nothing other than Alphonse's broken armour. When I look back around the room, I open my eyes wider. In the centre of the room is a large wooden table, around it sits three people; Edward, Armstrong and who I presume to be Dr Marcoh. In the man's hand, he holds a bottle of a thick reddish-pink liquid. He pours it slowly out onto the table. The two other males at the table gasp in horror, but their noises soon subside once they see the liquid turn into a pebble-like sphere.
"'The Philosophers stone'," Marcoh begins. "'The Celestial stone', 'The great elixir', 'The red tincture', 'The fifth element'. Just as the Philosopher's stones have several names, their shapes are not limited to that of stones."
He continues to drawl, things I have come to know already; The stone was an unfinished creation until the end of the war. All the time he explains I faze in and out and lose track of their conversation. All I catch in the talking is Edward wanting to see research files and Marcoh telling him he could not. He reasons that he wasn't going to share information so it can be used to do something as minor as bring back a body.
'Shit, how hard did the Major hit me?' I think, rubbing the back of my head vigorously. 'I can barely think straight.'
-
After being somewhat kicked out of the house, we sit on a bench as we watch the sky and clouds roll by, discussing what we should do now about bringing back our bodies. We need to start from scratch now that we were unsuccessful in obtaining the necessary files on the stone. The only reason that I'm following their path on the Philosopher's stone is to bring back Marcus and Jacky's bodies. I don't believe I deserve my arm again after all that I have put my family through. I don't deserve to get back what I have lost. It is the price I have paid for bringing grief to those I love.
The sound of heavy footsteps reaches our ears as we watch as a tired and out of breath Dr Marcoh comes to a halt at the station. In his hand, he clutches a folded piece of paper.
"This is the place where the research files are hidden." He pants, indicating to the article. He walks over to Edward and passes the slip to him. "Look at this if you won't regret knowing the truth. And if it's you, you will uncover the truth behind the truth." He quickly shakes his head as he walks away with a wave over his shoulder. "I have said too much already. I pray that you will restore your bodies one day."
As he walks away, Edward and I bow deeply in respect while Armstrong salutes teary-eyed, a sparkle seen here and there. Edward straightens back up and quickly unfolds the paper to see a few words scribbled on the page; "National central library. 1st branch."
"Brother," Alphonse says from his crate. "This road isn't a dead-end!"
"Yeah!" Edward exclaims as he looks out to the horizon, a cheeky grin plastered all over his face.
I clutch my pocket softly in contentment, 'I promise that I'll return you two to your original bodies... I just hope I won't be too late.'