Fanfic Post - Presence (FMA)
Nov. 12th, 2022 10:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kristenskThis was supposed to be a short series, over in four or five chapters that outlined the events in broad strokes. But, instead, I just keep adding more details and dragging it out. So, here's more of the dragon!Royverse.
Presence
“Tell me what he was like again.”
Al would have rolled his eyes if it were physically possible. Not that Ed could see it anyway as his horse was several paces ahead, lit by moonlight reflecting from the desert sands. Al settled for projecting a huff through his voice. He had been repeating every detail of the encounter for weeks.
“Black hair, dark eyes,” he said, watching Ed absently nod at each point. “Average – maybe on the shorter side of average height.”
“But, you said he ‘felt bigger.’ Whatever that means.”
“I can’t describe it any other way, Brother.”
The man he had met back in the Capital had had a presence. Something Alphonse had felt to the core of his being. Oddly, where it should have been intimidating it had instead felt familiar somehow.
Realizing that was a new insight, he voiced it to Ed.
“Familiar?” Ed parroted.
“Like I’ve felt it before, but not recently.” Al abruptly stiffened so violently his armor rattled. “Father. He felt like Father.”
“What?” Ed jerked the reins, forcing his horse to stop as he twisted in the saddle to stare at his armor-bound brother. His face was white in the moon’s glow.
Al ignored the theatrics, verbally exploring the revelation.
“I know you remember,” he said. “No one else ever felt like Father. He was… bigger than everyone somehow.”
Their father, Hohenheim, had been a big man, tall and broad-shouldered, but some aura about him made him seem bigger still. It was something he almost seemed to consciously suppress, visibly drawing into himself on his rare trips to town.
Ed clearly remembered. Al could see his scowl turning into a frown of concentration.
“I thought it was because we were kids,” Ed said at least, turning and urging his horse on again. “But, Albrecht down at the blacksmith’s was huge, and it wasn’t the same.”
No, it hadn’t been. Albrecht was a muscled behemoth who could lift wagons, and he had still seemed somehow small beside their father.
Lost in thought, the pair rode on, slipping from the open desert down into the farthest end of the valley that sheltered and gave its name to the settlement of Rush Valley. Rocky crags blotted out much of the moonlight, and they had to slow their pace and concentrate on the steep descent. Gradually, the path widened and the slope smoothed into level ground.
“And, he said—” Ed started, determined to plow through interrogating his brother one last time.
They rounded a cliff into the light again, and hulking shadows loomed before them. The abandoned forges.
Ed pulled his horse to a stop, and Al did the same. This was their first time seeing the forges up close. Usually, they entered Rush Valley from the more well-known route at the valley’s opposite end. The forges could be seen from some parts of town but at a distance. Which should have been their first clue.
The crumbling stone edifices were massive. Far larger than anyone could hope to tend or reasonably use. With little wood or coal, Rush Valley smiths had used alchemy to fire their forges for centuries. Even so…
“But, even with alchemy, how do you use something this big?” Ed voiced aloud.
“With the help of dragons.”
Al dropped his gaze to ground level as the man he’d last seen in an alleyway in the Capital stepped out of the shadow of the nearest forge and faced them, hands out and bare, like he had faced Al then. And, just like then, he still seemed larger than he had any right to be.
“Dragons powered—” Ed stopped and redirected. “Wait, who are you?”
“As I told your brother, I’m the one you’ve been searching for.”
“Huh?”
“I know quite a bit about dragons, including their history here in Rush Valley. What’s more…”
Before Ed could ask another question, the man snapped his fingers, and a fog rose from the desert sands. It gathered at the man’s side, growing and twisting rapidly until, suddenly, there was a foggy black dragon looming over them.
The horses tossed their heads, and it took Al a moment to quiet his. But, no more. The dragon wasn’t solid. It was clearly a mirage made from lingering heat and moonlight. It didn’t have the scent of a predator. The horses had made more fuss when Ed entered the stable back in Central. Horses never seemed to like his brother.
But, as Al was processing that, Ed had already reached a further conclusion.
“You mean the dragon we’re hunting isn’t even real?” Ed roared.
Oh, Al realized, if the man could create such an elaborate illusion with only the fast fading heat left in the sand, anything he could make in daylight would be far more convincing. Still…
“I don’t think a mirage burned part of the Capital, Brother,” he noted.
“No,” the man allowed, “that was flame alchemy. And, I merely singed it a bit as part of a distraction.”
“A distraction,” said Al. His voice dropped as anger boiled inside him. “People died.”
“I certainly hope the authorities believe so,” said the man. “They were people we badly needed to spirit away for their own sakes.”
‘Spirit away?’ Did that mean…?
“Assuming I believe you, why? What’s going on here?” Ed had dismounted, probably to have the ground in easy reach for a transmutation.
“There’s a homunculus sitting on the throne of Amestris.”
Al wasn’t sure he’d heard right. A homunculus? Enemies and other claimants to the throne might start any number of slanderous rumors about an unpopular king, but that was a new one.
“There’s no such thing as homunculi.”
“Oh?” Al could hear the man’s smile. “What about dragons? Or, perhaps, the Gate of Truth?”
In the moonlight, Al could see the way Ed’s entire body stiffened.
Then, his brother’s voice broke the sudden silence with a rasped, “You’ve seen it?”
“No,” Roy answered. “I’ve never seen it, though I know it well. A monolith in a field of white. Behind which lies all knowledge, far more than any one being can ever comprehend.”
“There are books?” Ed’s voice was filled with desperate eagerness.
Roy’s face softened. “I’m afraid not. Traditionally, the knowledge is passed orally.”
Ed drooped in disappointment. But, he rallied quickly.
“You had a teacher,” he said. “There are people who keep knowledge of the Gate… and homunculi and dragons.”
And, possibly, possibly, the Philosopher’s Stone.
“Yes,” Roy nodded. “In fact, the three are rather connected in a way. But, it would be easiest to show you.”
“Show—?”
But, the man in front of them was suddenly glowing, crackling with the familiar blue light of alchemy. His form shifted, grew larger and larger and longer and longer until he wasn’t a man at all. And, this time, Al knew with a certainty that the dragon looming before them wasn’t an illusion.
Presence
“Tell me what he was like again.”
Al would have rolled his eyes if it were physically possible. Not that Ed could see it anyway as his horse was several paces ahead, lit by moonlight reflecting from the desert sands. Al settled for projecting a huff through his voice. He had been repeating every detail of the encounter for weeks.
“Black hair, dark eyes,” he said, watching Ed absently nod at each point. “Average – maybe on the shorter side of average height.”
“But, you said he ‘felt bigger.’ Whatever that means.”
“I can’t describe it any other way, Brother.”
The man he had met back in the Capital had had a presence. Something Alphonse had felt to the core of his being. Oddly, where it should have been intimidating it had instead felt familiar somehow.
Realizing that was a new insight, he voiced it to Ed.
“Familiar?” Ed parroted.
“Like I’ve felt it before, but not recently.” Al abruptly stiffened so violently his armor rattled. “Father. He felt like Father.”
“What?” Ed jerked the reins, forcing his horse to stop as he twisted in the saddle to stare at his armor-bound brother. His face was white in the moon’s glow.
Al ignored the theatrics, verbally exploring the revelation.
“I know you remember,” he said. “No one else ever felt like Father. He was… bigger than everyone somehow.”
Their father, Hohenheim, had been a big man, tall and broad-shouldered, but some aura about him made him seem bigger still. It was something he almost seemed to consciously suppress, visibly drawing into himself on his rare trips to town.
Ed clearly remembered. Al could see his scowl turning into a frown of concentration.
“I thought it was because we were kids,” Ed said at least, turning and urging his horse on again. “But, Albrecht down at the blacksmith’s was huge, and it wasn’t the same.”
No, it hadn’t been. Albrecht was a muscled behemoth who could lift wagons, and he had still seemed somehow small beside their father.
Lost in thought, the pair rode on, slipping from the open desert down into the farthest end of the valley that sheltered and gave its name to the settlement of Rush Valley. Rocky crags blotted out much of the moonlight, and they had to slow their pace and concentrate on the steep descent. Gradually, the path widened and the slope smoothed into level ground.
“And, he said—” Ed started, determined to plow through interrogating his brother one last time.
They rounded a cliff into the light again, and hulking shadows loomed before them. The abandoned forges.
Ed pulled his horse to a stop, and Al did the same. This was their first time seeing the forges up close. Usually, they entered Rush Valley from the more well-known route at the valley’s opposite end. The forges could be seen from some parts of town but at a distance. Which should have been their first clue.
The crumbling stone edifices were massive. Far larger than anyone could hope to tend or reasonably use. With little wood or coal, Rush Valley smiths had used alchemy to fire their forges for centuries. Even so…
“But, even with alchemy, how do you use something this big?” Ed voiced aloud.
“With the help of dragons.”
Al dropped his gaze to ground level as the man he’d last seen in an alleyway in the Capital stepped out of the shadow of the nearest forge and faced them, hands out and bare, like he had faced Al then. And, just like then, he still seemed larger than he had any right to be.
“Dragons powered—” Ed stopped and redirected. “Wait, who are you?”
“As I told your brother, I’m the one you’ve been searching for.”
“Huh?”
“I know quite a bit about dragons, including their history here in Rush Valley. What’s more…”
Before Ed could ask another question, the man snapped his fingers, and a fog rose from the desert sands. It gathered at the man’s side, growing and twisting rapidly until, suddenly, there was a foggy black dragon looming over them.
The horses tossed their heads, and it took Al a moment to quiet his. But, no more. The dragon wasn’t solid. It was clearly a mirage made from lingering heat and moonlight. It didn’t have the scent of a predator. The horses had made more fuss when Ed entered the stable back in Central. Horses never seemed to like his brother.
But, as Al was processing that, Ed had already reached a further conclusion.
“You mean the dragon we’re hunting isn’t even real?” Ed roared.
Oh, Al realized, if the man could create such an elaborate illusion with only the fast fading heat left in the sand, anything he could make in daylight would be far more convincing. Still…
“I don’t think a mirage burned part of the Capital, Brother,” he noted.
“No,” the man allowed, “that was flame alchemy. And, I merely singed it a bit as part of a distraction.”
“A distraction,” said Al. His voice dropped as anger boiled inside him. “People died.”
“I certainly hope the authorities believe so,” said the man. “They were people we badly needed to spirit away for their own sakes.”
‘Spirit away?’ Did that mean…?
“Assuming I believe you, why? What’s going on here?” Ed had dismounted, probably to have the ground in easy reach for a transmutation.
“There’s a homunculus sitting on the throne of Amestris.”
Al wasn’t sure he’d heard right. A homunculus? Enemies and other claimants to the throne might start any number of slanderous rumors about an unpopular king, but that was a new one.
“There’s no such thing as homunculi.”
“Oh?” Al could hear the man’s smile. “What about dragons? Or, perhaps, the Gate of Truth?”
In the moonlight, Al could see the way Ed’s entire body stiffened.
Then, his brother’s voice broke the sudden silence with a rasped, “You’ve seen it?”
“No,” Roy answered. “I’ve never seen it, though I know it well. A monolith in a field of white. Behind which lies all knowledge, far more than any one being can ever comprehend.”
“There are books?” Ed’s voice was filled with desperate eagerness.
Roy’s face softened. “I’m afraid not. Traditionally, the knowledge is passed orally.”
Ed drooped in disappointment. But, he rallied quickly.
“You had a teacher,” he said. “There are people who keep knowledge of the Gate… and homunculi and dragons.”
And, possibly, possibly, the Philosopher’s Stone.
“Yes,” Roy nodded. “In fact, the three are rather connected in a way. But, it would be easiest to show you.”
“Show—?”
But, the man in front of them was suddenly glowing, crackling with the familiar blue light of alchemy. His form shifted, grew larger and larger and longer and longer until he wasn’t a man at all. And, this time, Al knew with a certainty that the dragon looming before them wasn’t an illusion.
