Beta: Taintedletter

Artwork by me. 

(óヮò)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Another beautiful spring night saw two friends climbing onto a roof and looking up at the night sky. Thousands of stars twinkled above them, and the warm breeze that blew between the two forewarned the oncoming summer.

Gentle music drifted from below. The führer was hosting an annual ball that marked the end of spring, and the start of summer. The two children could hear quiet laughter from the guests that danced in the gardens below them, but neither paid them any mind.

The smaller of the two children was a girl of the age of six. She had dark curly hair that she kept tied off to the side, and bright green eyes like her mother once had. She always dressed nicely, as she was the only heiress to the prestigious Luxanna family and looking anything less than perfect was unacceptable to her grandfather.

Next to her sat a boy who was far older than he looked. He kept his black hair combed neatly, and had dark amethyst eyes that gleamed with unnatural malice. As the führer's "son" he dressed equally as nice as his companion, but he always preferred to wear blacks and grays over his friend's vibrant spring colors.

The girl, Elizabeth Luxanna, looked down at the happy guests dancing.

'That kind of looks fun,' she thought, looking over at her relaxed friend.

"Wanna dance?" Elizabeth casually asked him.

"No."

The immediate and harsh response her friend gave her caught Elizabeth off guard. She peered queerly at Selim, and the homunculus steadfastly ignored her to look up at the night sky. "Why not?"

'No, don't tell me...'

A sly smirk crawled its way on Elizabeth's face, a mischievous twinkle shining in her eyes. "Could it be... you don't know how to dance?"

"Feh," Selim scoffed, his cheeks barely turning red under the pale moonlight. "What a human idea. A homunculus has no need for such useless knowledge."

"Oh, I see. So you can't dance."

Selim's eyes narrowed dangerous, and he growled out, "What?"

"Homunculi can't dance," Elizabeth concluded, chortling. "Gosh, so humans can do something homunculi can't? Who knew."

"Homunculi can dance just fine," Selim insisted hotly.

"Then why don't you show me?"

His face twitched, his shadows swirling around him in a blatant display of irritation. Several red eyes glared at Elizabeth from his shadows, but she paid them no mind. "Don't. Want. To."

"It's okay to admit you can't. Nothing wrong with it," she mockingly soothed, then laughed when Selim's face darkened in color.

He promptly shoved her off the rooftop.

(She landed in the bed of flowers on his balcony below, though)

(óヮò)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Summer 1909

With her second batch of hybrids nearly finished, Elizabeth began to seriously consider testing for her State Alchemist certification.

As a State Alchemist she would be able to set up in an official military-sanction laboratory and test her medicine on volunteering subjects.

But there was one big hiccup.

State Alchemists were soldiers first, scientists second. If the military required it of Elizabeth, she would have to fight.

And being only six... that simply wasn't possible for her.

She didn't have the strength, or agility, or even skill to put up any kind of fight. She'd be dead the first week into a war, or even into her very first live combat situation.

Which meant that before Elizabeth would even consider taking the exam early, she had to have some damn good fighting power.

For the most part that could be remedied with a few new tutors. An uncomfortable discussion with her grandfather about such warranted him hiring five new tutors that would take up all of Elizabeth's time during the weekdays before Selim was let out of school. First came hand-to-hand, second came swordsman, third came guns, fourth came another version of hand-to-hand, and lastly was tactics.

From five to fifteen hundred hours weekdays became a private hell for Elizabeth. The physical exhaustion she faced was only part of it, as each one of her tutors were cruel men with no sympathy for the child.

They were men who wanted to "gift" her with a "killer's edge."

Failure, or collapsing from exhaustion in training warranted disciplinary action.

Elizabeth swallowed her protests against such since she asked for training.

And she knew it wouldn't do a lick of good to have any resistance against her grandfather. Every single person in that miserable house could—and would—physically restrain, or beat down, the heiress before locking her away in her room until she submitted.

(Hindsight, had she known her new tutors would be that excessively cruel she would have remained silent, but there quite literally was no going back for the girl.)

With her weekdays now utterly booked—since she would never give up spending time with Selim in the evenings, no matter how tired she was, or how much her bruises bothered her—all of her alchemic training and research had to be done on the weekend.

Like today.

Selim was spending the morning with his mother, so Elizabeth took the time to try out one of her new transmutation circles. She found a nice, out of the way little spot in the Bradley's gardens, and began to draw with chalk.

It was a fairly large diagram, so it was taking Elizabeth several minutes to complete, and halfway through she was approached by a guest.

Mr. Bradley walked up behind Elizabeth, humming an off-tune song. "My, my, what do we have here? What are you working on, Elizabeth?"

"I'm working on my submission for my State Alchemist certificate," Elizabeth said, finishing her transmutation circle.

"Are you not going to submit your work in botany?" Mr. Bradley sounded genuinely surprised at that, peering down at the foreign circle the young prodigy drew. "It would be more than enough."

"Aha, but aren't State Alchemists supposed to fight for their country?" Elizabeth retorted. "I can't do that very well with plants. All I can do is make medicine, or poisons, and there isn't a lot of good consistent ways to use poison in battle. I either have to gas a massive area—which drastically reduces the efficiency of the poison—or I have to inject it into the bloodstream directly which is risky. While I don't mind learning close combat, I think it'd be smart to have some good long distance attacks, too."

"And that's what you're working on?"

At Elizabeth's nod, Mr. Bradley stood back to examine the circle. "So what will it do?"

"Want to see? If it works, I'll make up some gloves to put it on," Elizabeth explained. "But I want to make sure it activates before I go that far. Ah... you might want to stand further back, sir. And please watch your eyes."

Intrigued, Mr. Bradley took a few more steps back.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, then slapped her hands down on the circle. The lines immediately lit up with blue light and—

An explosion of lightning rocketed out of the center of the circle, shooting up into the sky with impressive speed and blinding light. Barely a second afterward did a resounding crack of thunder boomed forth, making everyone's ears hurt who was unlucky enough to be nearby.

Elizabeth cringed, rubbing at her ears. "Ow-ow-ow!"

"You made lightning?" Mr. Bradley laughed, delighted. "Quite the attack!"

Since Elizabeth's ears were ringing, she couldn't understand what Mr. Bradley said but she took a guess. "It's more of a last ditch move. I doubt I'll ever be able to control it to use it in a civilian setting, or near allies, but it's good to have something."

Mr. Bradley walked up and placed a hand over Elizabeth's head, ruffling her hair in an oddly affection gesture. He had a toothy grin on his face—the same kind of smile most people thought of when they first met the führer. "I agree. So would you have considered this a success?"

"Enough of one to make some gloves," Elizabeth answered. "With this and my work on botany, think I'll be a good State Alchemist?"

"I think you'll do just fine."

(óヮò)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Elizabeth clipped the tea leaves off her plants in the greenhouse. The special tea leaves she had made for Mr. and Mrs. Bradley were a combination of cinnamon, orange, and black tea. They smelled delightful, and she had already confirmed they were safe for consumption through her rat test subjects.

Now it was time to actually gift them.

She clipped them off and hurried over to the kitchen Mrs. Bradley said she could borrow.

To make tea leaves first she had to heat the leaves, stem them for about two minutes, and immediately run cold water over them to stop the heating process and retain their color. Next she'd roll them out before spreading them in a dish and popping them in an oven for about twelve minutes (turning them after six).

The whole process took barely twenty minutes (although a few of those minutes Elizabeth had unintentionally spent cringing when she accidentally stumbled into the counter and hit one of her latest bruises from "home"), and once Elizabeth had her dried out tea leaves, she bottled them in a sealed decorative glass container, and wrapped a cute bow around them.

Now it was time for the accompanying snacks.

She wasn't nearly as talented as a baker as Mrs. and Mr. Bradley (the führer enjoyed baking with his wife in his free time, apparently), but she knew how to follow a recipe.

In a couple of hours, she had whipped up some decent cookies to go along with the tea.

All that was left was to actually give them their presents.

Mrs. Bradley was easy to find: she was spending the day with Selim in the living room, playing board games and reading to him.

She was reluctant to interrupt their time spent together, though, so she asked one of the servants to give her gift to them when they were at a stopping point.

After that Elizabeth hurried to Mr. Bradley's office in Central Operations. She had only visited there a handful of times with Mrs. Bradley and Selim, but she knew the path because it was fairly straight forward.

She received a few curious looks from the adults that she ran past, but none of them tried to stop her.

When she arrived outside of Mr. Bradley's office, she knocked on his door and received, "Come in."

Elizabeth had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the unusually tall door handle. She pushed the door in and hopped inside with a big smile. "Hi, Mr. Bradley!"

"Why, hello, Elizabeth," Mr. Bradley said with a smile. "What brings you here?"

Elizabeth moved to stand beside Mr. Bradley's wide desk, holding up a basket that contained the special tea, and home-made cookies. Shyly, she said, "F-For you."

Mr. Bradley accepted the basket, placing it on his desk before taking out the jar of tea leaves and popping it open. Immediately, the strong smell of them filled the room and he inhaled. "Ah. That smells wonderful."

Elizabeth curtsied. "Thank you, s—Mr. Bradley. I wanted to thank you for all you have done for me, and I h-hope we can continue to get along."

"I hope so, too," Mr. Bradley remarked, ruffling Elizabeth's hair. "Would you mind brewing this for me?"

Elizabeth smiled warmly. "Not at all!"

The small girl accepted the jar of tea leaves back from the führer, and hurried over to a small counter that held his tea set (gifted by Mrs. Bradley). While she brewed the tea, there was another knock on the door and Mr. Bradley told them to come inside.

In stepped a young man with black hair, dark eyes, and an air of confidence. "Sir."

Mr. Bradley sat back his chair. "Ah, yes, Mustang. Thank you for seeing me before your return to East."

"One can hardly refuse an invitation from the führer," the man named Mustang remarked, his eyes roaming over to Elizabeth. A frown tugged on his lips when he saw her.

"Curious?" Mr. Bradley asked. "This is my future daughter-in-law, Elizabeth Luxanna."

Elizabeth let out an eep at that, her face now redder than strawberries. "M-M-M-M-M-Mr. B-B-Bradley!"

Mr. Bradley laughed heartily at Elizabeth's horrified face. "Ahaha! I wish I could show Selim that face."

"Pl-Please h-have m-mercy," Elizabeth wheezed, trembling as she carried over the freshly brewed tea. She clutched at her heart. "I c-can't handle it when you and Mrs. Bradley t-tease me like that."

"Between you and me, I do it more to irritate Selim," Mr. Bradley loudly whispered to her, a twinkle in his eyes. He looked back over at Mustang, placing a hand on top of Elizabeth's head. "She'll be taking the State Alchemist exam this coming spring."

Mustang's eyes widened. Disbelieving he said, "How old is she?"

"She'll be seven in the spring. She's shown great promise," Mr. Bradley said, pulling his hand back. "I hope you'll treat her kindly if you find her in your care."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Elizabeth, why don't you head back? I have some matters to discuss with Mustang that Katherine will be very cross with me if you were to overhear."

Elizabeth curtsied. "Okay. I'll see you at dinner, Mr. Bradley."

The small girl hurried out of the room, ignoring the look of pity in Mustang's eyes.

She was Elizabeth Luxanna, heiress to Luxanna.

She was born to be a soldier (again, and again, and again).

She was born to kill, and be killed (again, and again, and again).

Pity didn't exist in her life.

(óヮò)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Fall 1909

Elizabeth hurt.

Every inch of her muscles protested heavily against moving, and she wasn't about to argue with them. She laid on her mattress, curled tightly into a ball, and trying to will away the pain.

She wished she was having dinner with the Bradleys instead of laying on her mattress like a mass of beaten meat.

'I should work on pain relievers, anti-inflammatories, and bruise salves next,' Elizabeth thought to herself before grimacing. She looked down at herself, peering with emotional detachment at the assortment of blotched bruises.

She had failed her training sessions that day, and punishment was issued.

She would be confined to her bedroom for a week, with a small amount of ghoulish food provided every other day.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and laid back down on her mattress, wishing she at least had a window in her almost barren room.

Her books and notes had been removed as part of her punishment. There was nothing in that room but a bed and some blankets now. Not even a candle.

The only light provided to her now was from the hallway light pooling underneath her door.

The only voices she heard was the servants whispering about her as they passed by.

The only company she kept was her own.

But this was the life of Elizabeth Luxanna.

'I wish Selim was here.'

(óヮò)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

When her week was up she resumed her routine. The physical training she received throughout the day was especially difficult while she was recovering, but out of fear of receiving another punishment she somehow pushed herself through.

Unfortunately, as a result she was far too exhausted to make the trip to visit Selim and the Bradleys afterward for another week.

So it was a solid two weeks before Elizabeth saw Selim again, and the moment she did she sprinted to meet him at school and body-tackled him into the ground with a tight hug.

"Oof," Selim let out when she barreled into him, burying her face in his chest. "Ah—hi, Ellie!"

"Oh my," Mrs. Bradley giggled, hurrying over to the two children and helping both of them up. "Hello, Elizabeth. It's been a while, hasn't it? Your grandfather said you were feeling ill."

Elizabeth rolled off Selim and hopped off, barely managing to repress her wince when she put too much weight on her bruised leg.

Clothes did wonders to cover up things she didn't want to explain.

Selim brushed off the dirt, huffing. "You didn't have to tackle me."

"Sorry," Elizabeth apologized, abashed. "I just—I just got really happy."

"Oh—Mrs. Bradley!" called out the mother of another student. "The recipe you gave me last week, I had a few questions about it."

Mrs. Bradley smiled at the woman, and turned around to answer her questions, her back momentarily turned on Elizabeth and Selim.

"Ellie?" Selim asked Elizabeth quietly when Mrs. Bradley wasn't paying attention.

"Mn?"

"Does your room not have any windows?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't have any windows in my room."

Selim's eyes narrowed at that, but before anything else could be discussed Mrs. Bradley grabbed both their hands and began to lead them home.

(óヮò)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Winter 1909

Winter saw Elizabeth setting up a new batch. She was proud of her successes from her second batch—and she would continue to grow more of those for testing purposes—but now she wanted to work on something new.

Now her new projects were: anti-inflammatories and blood replenishment.

The anti-inflammatory hybrids would have been easy, she guessed, but blood replenishment would be one hell of an undertaking.

Plants didn't have blood, so how was she going to get one to produce it?

Blood was—essentially—blood cells suspended in blood plasma. About 55% of blood was blood plasma with volume totals of around 2.7 – 3.0 liters in an average human. The plasma itself was 92% water, 8% plasma proteins (glucose, mineral ions, hormones) and trace amounts of other materials.

Stripping down blood to the absolute bare minimum, she could produce the specific parts inside of a plant. It was simply a matter of combining the correct amounts.

But how the heck was she going to have a plant produce it naturally?

Why, with pitcher plants!

Pitcher plants were carnivorous plants that lured insects into a cavity formed by a cupped leaf. Once inside the insects would become trapped in a digestive liquid called phytotelmata.

Elizabeth's plan was to eventually have a pitcher plant produce blood instead of phytotelmata.

If such was even possible it was hard to say, but she thought it'd be fun to try out!

With a basic plan in mind Elizabeth set about to working on genetic equations in her free time and began her third batch barely a week later.

(óヮò)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Elizabeth laid down in the snow, her arms and legs sprawled out as the cold pressed against her tired body.

It felt oh so good against her joints and limbs.

Against her whole body, really.

A harsh wind blew through the school courtyard, and the brunette shivered. She wondered why she didn't see any other parents around, and if maybe Mrs. Bradley was sick again.

There was the sound of snow crunching near her and Elizabeth slowly sat up. Selim stood above her, bundled up nicely in his winter clothes, and the scarf she had made him. "Idiot. School was cancelled."

"Oh," was all she said.

"What are you doing in the snow? Get up before you get sick," he ordered, and she complied. His eyes narrowed into slits. "Why would you lay in the snow like that?"

"It felt good," she answered honestly, brushing off the snow. "What are we having for dinner?"

"Why would—" Selim stopped himself and shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and furrowed his brow. "Never mind, I don't care. We're having pot roast for dinner."

Elizabeth beamed. "Oh, really? Sweet, I love pot roast!"

"You like everything," he retorted. "Try to keep up, I want out of this miserable weather."

"Okay!" Elizabeth agreed, taking Selim's outstretched hand.

She didn't notice when he used his shadows to lift her dress up barely enough to glimpse at her legs.

She didn't notice the the way his shadows reflexively lashed out behind him, kicking up the snow.

And she certainly didn't notice the hostility in his gaze when he stared at the bruises.

(óヮò)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Small switch in POV to Wrath next chapter, and Pride after that. Interludes will be done later.

Answer: Toss up between Edward and Pride tbh. Y'know Edward is a great friend, and the kinda person you can always count on. But I have a good feeling Pride would be hella fun to hang out with if you weren't bothered by the whole eating other humans thing.

Do not want Dwarf in a Flask as an enemy for obvious reasons.

Question: Which of the State Alchemists is your favorite, and why?

Reviews are love!