Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Eye of the Beholder ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

Eye of the Beholder

 

LadyMad

 

Chapter Three

 

Eight Years Later

 

The desert town of Llaemohri wasn't very prosperous. Sure it was just a few miles from a gigantic forest but it didn't own anything. The inhabitants were lucky if the mines picked up copper. Just about everyone in the village either worked in the mines or tourist places, not that they got too many of those. It had been established some hundred years ago and legend had it that the town had been rich when it started up but then it went downhill to practically nothing and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it.

 

As soon as the cart stopped, he hopped from the back and began wandering around the town. The first place he happened to wander into, a tavern. The people inside paid him no real heed. He didn't look or act dangerous so they didn't bother with him. He sat down quietly at the bar just as the barkeep was wiping it down.

 

“Can I git you somethin'?” She asked in a rough voice. Curly brown hair to her waist pulled back into a braid and draped over her right shoulder, she had a feminine look about her but the eyes of a killer. Her eyes were sapphire blue with tan skin and a slender face with a curved body. She wore an apron over a peasant blouse and leather pants, looking like a true barkeep. He'd know.

 

“Scotch, straight.” He mumbled.

 

“Uh, we don't have no Scotch `ere. Want somethin else?” She asked her voice a bit softer. Obviously he wasn't from around there. She looked into his golden eyes covered by a cloak. His tan skin and unshaven face gave him the look of a weary traveler. His eyes, that's what had captivated her.

 

“How `bout straight whiskey? Got that?” His voice sounded rougher than a lot of the guys' she knew. She simply nodded and poured the drink. In about two and a half gulps, he downed the drink and gently put the glass on the counter.

 

“You want `nother one?” She asked. He nodded. She poured another and like the previous one, he downed it quickly. “`Nother?”

 

“No, thanks.” He took out some money, laid it on the table and put his head down on the cool wood. The barkeep just took the money and walked away without another word to him. A tap on his shoulder brought him back from his thoughts. When he opened his eyes and looked to his left, he saw a big, burly guy standing next to him.

 

“You're on my stool, Mister.” He said.

 

“Sound's kinda like you got a problem, huh?” He asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

 

“Look, things would be much easier for you if you just got up from my stool. I sit here every time I come in here.”

 

“Well, then you're going to have to find another seat.” The man growled in his throat, picked the smaller guy up off the stool by his collar and held him up over the floor. The entire room stopped and watched. “Who the hell do you think you are, little man?”

 

“My name is Edward. That's who I think I am.” With a quick thrust of his leg, Edward kicked the guy in the groin. As soon as he dropped to the floor, he did a back flip, kicking the guy in the head before landing gracefully on his feet. The man stumbled back, winded, and opened his eyes wide at Edward. The guy stepped forward, only to feel a quick jab to his throat. His windpipe had been cut off. He dropped to his knees, hands grasping his throat. After about a minute, blood began seeping from his nose and mouth. Ed stared at him as the man tried gasping for air. He fell backward on the floor, his body completely limp. A few screams ran through the room and Ed felt the nozzle of a gun touch the back of his neck.

 

“Git the fuck out o' my bar!” The barkeep screamed. Quickly, Ed gathered his cloak about him and walked out. Several people ran to man to see if he was actually dead or not. Ed never saw if he was alive. He walked out without looking back. Since it looked as if business were slow around the town, Ed knew it would cost a lot for a hotel room. He knew he needed a place to stay for at least one night; however, this was a small town. News would travel fast about the incident in the tavern. He needed to find an inn before people started talking.

 

From across the street, a pair of green eyes watched him closely. A few strands of blood-brown hair fell over the eyes and near white skin. Her eyes were shaped like those of a cat, her lips full, round and arched. Her face was slender but plump, an innocent darkness lingering in it. She wore a long trench coat over what seemed to be a dress and boots. The coat was buttoned all the way down so it was hard to tell. At her waist, the coat flared out, giving her curve on her hips. She was well sculpted, her body probably firm and well disciplined under the layers of clothes. She turned her head to the left, and then right and walked forward toward the inn Edward had walked into.

 

After eight years, she knew more about him than he did himself. A few people had called it an obsession of a child but she knew better. He sure as hell couldn't protect himself. She might as well do it for him. He hadn't figured out she was there and he wouldn't until she was ready for him to know, until he was ready to know. It wasn't quite the time yet. Almost, but not quite. Just a bit longer and it would be time for him to know.

 

She stood in the common room of the inn and looked around. Few people noticed her and that was the way she liked it. It was mainly only men who noticed her, not that she cared. No man had ever touched her and no man ever would. She was far too sacred a being for dingy mortal hands. Cocky, yes but it still held within it the truth. Conceded, no.

 

Edward had just gotten his key and was walking toward the stairwell to the rooms. Her green eyes followed him up into the hallway past and into a small room with a single bed, lamp, adjoined washroom, and wardrobe. She pulled herself back into her own body when she heard the innkeeper speak to her.

 

“…lp you miss?” He asked gently. She turned her eyes to him and looked directly into his chocolate brown eyes.

 

“I'd like a room for the remainder of the week. I might be checking out earlier, though.” She said in a deep, but femininely seductive voice. She spoke as she walked toward him and put her black-gloved hands gently on the counter.

 

“Uh, um…n—name?” He asked, stumbling over himself as he reached back to get a key.

 

“Xandyr.” She said quickly. He opened his guest book and began writing but stopped, realizing he had no clue as to how to spell that. “X-A-N-D-Y-R.” She said helpfully. He looked up at her again with a questioningly gaze.

 

“Last name?”

 

“Ceirvah.” She said quickly. “C-E-I-R-V-A-H.” He put his nose back in the book and scribbled it next to her first name. He then wrote the number of the key.

 

“You're in room 2-9. Twenty-nine.”

 

“Thank you.” She took the key and walked across the wooden floor, her boot heels tapping on the polished wood. As she walked past Edward's room, her eyes darted in to find him undressing and readying himself for a bath. She quickly drew herself out and entered her own room.

 

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 

Ed pulled off his shirt and rubbed his shoulders. He'd been running from his past and the ghost of his brother for eight years now. At only twenty-three, he was worn and tired of life. The money he'd made from his time in the military had lasted this long but it wouldn't hold out forever. Wanted in most of this part of the world, he couldn't settle down. No one would let him. He'd already tried and got kicked out of the town. Since then, he'd been a wanderer. No one wanted him and he was fine with that.

 

Ed ran his hands through his waist-length, golden blond hair and sighed heavily. At his age, he shouldn't want life to just cease. He should want more of it. He really missed Al…but then again, didn't want to see him again for fear of what his brother would think of what he'd become. Ed let his head fall in his hands and let out a deep sigh. He hadn't cried in eight years since the death of his brother and he wasn't about to start now. He walked to the bathroom, finished undressing and ran a hot bath. After the tub was full, he got in and laid his head against the cool plasti-glass. The hot water felt good against his tense muscles. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep, the water cooling around him.

 

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 

Xandyr took a sip of her wine and looked around the common room. Everyone there was talking in a quiet hushness that almost made her nervous. Almost. The loud thump of Edward's heavy boots made most everyone there jump from their skins but she just smiled. She was used to the way he now carried himself. He carried himself with a pride that mirrored his guilt and sadness. A melancholy pride, she came to call it. Many of the people in the room shot dirty and `deadly' glares at the former alchemist but he paid them no heed. They all knew they couldn't actually hurt him but maybe if they made him nervous enough to leave…

 

He sat at the bar only a few seats down from herself. He didn't notice her because, to him, she was invisible. He ordered a tall whiskey on ice and sipped gingerly at it. The innkeeper kept his gun in clear view just in case his new guest decided to try and murder another person. Xandyr knew he wouldn't. He only killed when agitated by a single person or people and right now, no one was agitating him. Lucky for them. Xandyr continued to sip her wine until the glass was drained. When she was finished, she laid a couple dollars on the counter, got up and walked outside. The night was beautiful, even for in the middle of a desert, it was beautiful.

 

No clouds streaked the sky, only the moon and the stars. Everything was clear, just like her mind. One major difference between herself and mortals, she never became clouded with emotion. Emotion was a void in her heart that had never been filled and never would be. To many of her kind, she was a heartless child. She didn't feel anything because she didn't want to care. Not the case. She didn't want to feel anything because she dare not get hurt like she had seen before in her mother and others of her kind. Xandyr was pulled from her thoughts by Edward's footsteps on the ground beside her. She was surprised that he wasn't smoking but once again forgot that he had decided it wasn't for him about three years ago. Drinking, on the other hand. Alcohol had become his best friend in the past six years. It was sad to see him go down the drain like he had but that was his choice.

 

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 

Ed couldn't help but look to his left. All he saw was a cloaked figure standing in the darkness same as him but it somehow meant something different. For eight years now, he had felt an invisible presence following him, watching over him, but had yet to discover who, or what, it was. He felt he was being guarded but then what angel would want to take care over his destroyed life? None of it made sense but he had come to learn that was the story of his life, of life in general. No matter how fucked up it appeared, that was life and it wasn't going to just go away. That was the beauty of it.

 

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 

A/N: Alright, people. I'm leaving it off here. Oh, just so you know, the last paragraph in this chap is my own outlook of life. And to get this outlook, just about eight years ago in fact, I lost a sibling so I know the emotion I'm putting into Ed. Strangely enough, I didn't realize it until I was just finishing off the chap. Well, see ya later!