Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Heart of Fire (Royai) ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

2
"Dammit, Havoc. You didn't say anything about a counter attack!" Roy yelled, cursing. His clothes were smoking and his hair was singed from the counter attack. From his own flames. "Dammit, you bastard. Why didn't you say anything?"

Riza—bless her—had made adjustments to the new training area. It would better him at sensing when an attack was coming. Sometimes when he attacked a target a sensor would come up and deflect his attack, sending it right back. Riza—normally—warned him of a counter attack or gave small underlining hints. He heard Havoc roaring with laughter.

"Sorry, chief."

"What the hell was Hawkeye thinking, leaving me with you?" He turned towards the sound of Havocs laughter and knew lifted his hand. He was dead on target when he snapped. He knew from the sound of Havocs silence and then curse that he'd hit his target.

Havocs cigarette sizzled and burned down to the very tip till there was nothing left but ashes. "Hey, that was my last one, chief…!"

Roy ignored the whine and folded his arms. "Play a little joke like that again and I'll aim a little—hell, a lot—lower—" He stopped himself mid-sentence as a curt, feminine cough sounded behind him.

Riza chuckled at the sight of Roy. "If you had been paying attention, you would have sensed the attack coming." He did, most of the time, with her. She had been training, engraving that sense, into him. Being blind, he had to have his own defense. Despite what had happened just now, he was progressing. Like always, he slacked when she left.

He rubbed the back of neck.

Havoc laughed again. "You should have seen his face. Hell, he's still smoking."

She reached out and clamped her fingers of a strand of his hair that was burning, snuffing the flame out. "Fire is not a toy, Havoc. You're lucky he knows Flame Alchemy as he does. What if you'd been training me and the same had happened with me?"

"You wouldn't have missed your target." God, Havoc was so full of himself. That was what made Havoc, Jean Havoc.

She sighed. "On your way, Havoc. Now—" She turned Roy towards the door and handed him his walking cane. "—let's get you inside, Sir. Before your clothes fall off." His clothes were smoking and seared clear through in some areas. She sighed. Havoc would pay for the clothes out of his own check.

She pulled her hand away when he grasped the rounded head of the cane. He had resisted the cane at first but she had insisted—rather, forced. He had found, like she had said, it was much easier with a cane. She'd had it specially made for him. He couldn't see it of course, but he could feel. She'd had it made from silver—polished to a fine gloss. The rounded head of the cane was a polished oak and carved into the top was his Alchemy symbol. The rest of the cane was silver, markings engraved all the way down to the long stem. She'd had the flames carved—detailed to a fine point—around the entire silver stem.

She didn't have to hold his arm to guide him along the walkway or the halls. He was familiar with them and knew she would tell him if an obstacle was in his way.

"Left."

He turned automatically, his cane swishing along the floor before he lifted it and tucked it under his arm. "So I heard Fuher Grumman came to Central."

She nodded and then spoke. She'd overcome and always remembered that he couldn't see her when she nodded so verbal response was always in order. "Yes. He invited me for lunch and a walk in the park."

"He received my letter?"

"Yes, that was part of the reason he came." Not to mention the great-grandchildren he wanted. That, she would keep to herself.

His only response was "Hmm."

They both knew Roy would have a struggle for the title of Fuher. Grumman couldn't just decide to give up the title. The blindness was a setback. After all, who wanted a blind man leading the Military. But he was more than willing to prove himself, more than able to overcome the didn't have to see to believe. He would have to prove himself worthy of taking on the title.

"Right."

He turned and Riza grabbed his arm, jerking him to a halt. He almost asked what she was doing when he sensed someone come to a stop in front of him—or rather, they had been turning the corner when he and Riza had been passing. Breda—because he smelled like food.

"Whoa, what happened to you, Mustang?"

"Havoc." Roys voice was grim and full of self-loathing towards Havoc. For the moment. He'd get a little pay-back and then they would be doing it all over again. It was weekly thing between the two. Best of friends.

Breda laughed. "Should have figured. Better get to your room because your clothes aren't looking so good…"

He rolled his eyes, wishing he could see how he looked for once. Riza walked him the entire way to his room and then told him to stop when they were at the door. He barely had the key in the look before Riza shoved the door open and pushed him inside and jerked the door closed. "I'll be in my office, Sir." She called out through the door.

He stood there, baffled as to why she had been so hostile when shoving him into the room. That was when he felt the tattered remains of clothes fall off. He laughed. Smart woman. She was always on top of things.

He turned into the room. Alone, he could think. Thinking made him pity himself. He just couldn't believe he'd made it this far. And she still stood by him. Even blind, she was pushing him towards the top. He'd come to grips with being blind but more than anything, he wanted to see again. He felt inadequate. Riza didn't know—she couldn't. If he didn't believe in himself, how could she?

That wouldn't stop him from making it to the top though. He'd do it.

He felt along the wall and flipped the light switch. It didn't matter that he couldn't see. It gave him a sense of wellbeing to know that the light was on. Being blind had forced him to rely on his other senses. He listened more intently now and the smells around him were familiar. The training field smelled of gunpowder, ashes and smoke. He always knew when he was near the cafeteria. Breda smelled like a damn sandwich. Fuery smelled liked books. Falman smelled like the outside world and Havoc smelled like a damn cigarette.

And Riza, she smelled like flowers. He hadn't noticed it until months after he'd gone blind when she had helped him to recuperate. Flowers. Rain. She smelled good.

He paid attention when he fought, listened for the next moves. His sense of danger was heightened. He sighed and felt along the wall until he reached the side of his bed. He knew what was waiting for him. Riza had been there and she'd left his uniform on the bed. He smiled. When wasn't she composed?

He got dressed and combed his hands through his hair and then made his way to the far wall and pulled a picture frame aside. A heavy set locked combination box was hidden in the wall. He pressed in the code and the lock clicked open. From inside he pulled out a black box. He sat down on the edge of the bed and opened it. The inside of the box was lined in black velvet and in the middle of that, cushioned, was the Philosophers Stone. He didn't have to see to know it was there.

He sensed it.

He picked up the stone and closed his fingers around it. "You're going to help a lot of people." He wanted, more than anything, to use it to return his sight, but he could think of so many other things he could do. He knew the stone was powerful but even power had its limits. Returning Ishval to the way it had been before the war—but better—was going to take a lot. The land was big and in the dessert to top that off. He wanted to make it where they would have everything they needed. Water.

He could feel the power in the stone and almost wished he could use it, even for just a moment, to see what it would do to his Alchemy. He'd seen how it had amplified Dr. Maroh's. He closed his eyes and clenched his fist around it tighter.

No.

He knew what he wanted. To give back to the Ishbals what he had taken.

He pulled the black box back to him, holding the stone for a second longer. The temptation was there. Strong. The Philosophers Stone was powerful. He could do anything with it. For himself. The temptation was strong, almost a whisper. With a sigh he dropped the stone onto the velvet bed and closed the case. He felt a kind of relief once the stone was put away.

Roy didn't doubt that besides the Elric brothers, he was the only other person who was going to use the Philosophers Stone for good.

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