Somewhere in the Eastern Mountains, Amestris, 1905

It was the sharp ring of the bell that signaled to the workers that the work-day had ended. Twelve hours they had stood on their feet, performing the same task over and over and over again, baking under the high heat radiating off of the large machines that they worked on. Often standing hunched over their machine, performing tedious work with hardly any feeling in their hands, fighting from breathing in the dust and stray particles in the air.

But it had been a good day. There had been no major accidents. Nothing for them to halt the production line while the machine was being repaired because someone had leaned too far over and their loose items became caught in the machine.

Riza remembered the sight of Mary-Ann Arbor being hauled out, half of her scalp ripped from her body, simply because she had leant too far over and one of her beautiful red braids had gotten caught in the machine. They had taken her home to her family, where they bandaged their wounds as well as they could and prayed desperately for her to make it against odds and survive the night. Their prayers had not been heard and young Mary-Ann was dead by morning.

Riza solemnly buttoned the many buttons on her coat before grabbing her pail that served to carry the lunch she never ate and made to leave the factory. She would be back before the sun broke over the horizon in the morning, and give another full day's work. Only for the cycle to repeat itself over the next day, and the day after that. Only stopping for the one day of rest required by the government, only for her ten to twelve hour shifts to begin again until the next day of rest.

It was a dull existence, but it provided food for the table and a way to keep the bank off of their property.

Riza pushed her way through the doors and out into the frozen realm outside. The wind immediately bit her face and sucked her breath away, but Riza barely noticed. It was late at night and she still had to pick up some things from the general store before she could return home and make dinner for her father. And she had to hurry, because there was only a short window of time before the general store closed it's doors for the night. Then again, on a night like this, it was entirely possible that they would have closed their doors early due to the snowstorm.

But still, she had to try. The store would not be open before she returned to work in the factory tomorrow, and the item was something she desperately needed.

Slowly, but surely, Riza made her way through the near deserted streets until she reached the main strip. Here there was no one outside. Everyone was inside their homes or their shops, out of the frigid cold and tucking in for the night. Riza afforded herself no time to be jealous of what they had at their disposal. It would do her no good in the long run. She would only descend quickly into a world of despair and loathing similar to her father's.

Through the snow, Riza made out light coming from the general store's window. A sense of warm relief spread through her cold bones. Even if they were closed, someone was there and would let her pay for what she needed. The Havoc family had known her mother's side of the family for many generations, or so she was told. Her mother had died when she was barely old enough for primary school, and nearly all information she received was secondhand about that side of the family. She hadn't realized how well-liked her mother had been before she died.

But how was she supposed to have known? Her father never spoke of her mother. He barely spoke to Riza at all. Even if she was the reason they hadn't been kicked out onto the streets yet.

Stomping her worn boots against the wooden deck, Riza made her way up to the front door. The moment she cracked it open, she could feel a rush of warm air escape into the winter air. It carried with it snippets of conversation and laughter. Riza hurried inside to keep as much of the atmosphere and heat inside as possible. Snow swirled around her as she shut the door.

There was a pause in the conversation as the man behind the counter looked over to see who had come in. His smile widened when he saw Riza standing there, and held up a finger to the people he was talking too, before coming over to greet the customer.

"Miss Riza, you look nearly frozen. Don't tell me you plan on heading back home in the storm out there?" He asked, despite knowing full well that she did. She always did. "Why don't you sleep here for the night? You won't have to walk that mile into town for your shift tomorrow morning."

Riza smiled at the older gentleman. Old Jacob Havoc was always insisting on doing things for her, like he saw her as one of his own daughters. Riza always would decline his offer. Oftentimes giving the exact same reason why everytime he asked. She couldn't stay away from her father for very long, not with his health. It was a pitiful excuse, her father's health grew worse every day, and due to his stubborn refusal to seek medical treatment, it was unlikely that he would last far into the new year.

"It's a kind offer, but I really shouldn't leave my father alone much longer." Not like she hadn't left him alone for nearly twelve hours at this point.

"Of course, of course." Jacob Havoc stepped back and began to peruse the shelves behind the counter. "I can assume that you're here for the usual then?"

"Yes sir."

Jacob grabbed a lone paper-wrapped parcel and glanced warily at it. His eyes flickered from the small item to Riza and back again. There was something going on at the Hawkeye residence, and it was more than just Berthold's failing health. But it was none of his business to pry; Riza's old man had a temper that would put the wildest wolverine to shame.

"Did any letters come in today for me?" Riza asked, gently picking at a loose thread of her coat.

"No, nothing came. Sorry." Jacob took a look at the young woman's face to see if there were any clues as to what she was waiting for. It had been the third time that week that she had come into the store—which also functioned as the town's post center—asking if there was anything for her in that day's shipment with the train.

"May I ask what it is you're so eagerly awaiting?" Jacob said handing over the small parcel to her.

Riza's small coin count was pushed back to him in payment for her goods.

"You may ask."

Jacob frowned, but let the matter slip aside. There were many secrets that spun around the Hawkeye's. Rumors as well. But such was the nature of living in a small town and keeping nearly entirely to themselves. People were inclined to whisper nasty things in the ears of anyone who would listen to them. Most were blatantly false. But there was still something about them. And Jacob could feel in his gut that some weren't as benign as Berthold and Riza played it off to be.

"Alright dear, but I expect to get the answers I seek out of you sooner or later. I always do. Remember when Jerome broke his mother's sewing machine when he was a boy? Crazy brat attempted to convince me that the fairies were the ones to break it."

A sudden protest from the back room broke through to the front, as the son protested against his old man. Jacob only laughed at his son. Riza smiled politely and tucked her small parcel into the interior pocket of her coat.

"I appreciate what you've done Mr. Havoc, but I really must be going now."

Jacob Havoc's eyes told her that he wished to protest her venturing out into the winter storm, but his mouth remained shut.

"Good night then, Mr. Havoc." Riza nodded politely to the portly man and tugged her scarf over her face before walking out into the storm.

The winds had not improved within the ten minutes that she was in Havoc's store. If anything, they had gotten worse. Riza had only walked a few meters away from the store and could no longer see the light that emanated from the window. The winter's wind bit through her only pair of boots at the widening gap of the seam between leather and the sole. One hand pressed her scarf tighter against her face, while the other followed a fence to ensure she never strayed from the road. One too many persons had frozen to death that way.

Riza's pace was steady, despite the increasing numbness in her feet and hands. There would only be a few more steps until she reached the rope indicating where the walk to her house would be. Then it would only be a short walk to the front door where she would be able to have refuge from the wind for the night. A short walk and a prayer that the sharp wind hadn't broken the rope while she was gone.

It hadn't, and Riza made it to her front door with no incidents.

The house was nearly as cold inside as it had been outside. Striking a match, Riza lit the kerosene lamp on the table in the entryway before removing her winter clothing. Once her outdoor clothing was hung to melt the snow that had piled on the outside, Riza took the small parcel from the store and her lunch pail into the kitchen. The food would hold until tomorrow, it had been removed from the heat of the machinery where she worked. Her purchase was tucked under the sink alongside where the last purchase was kept. Hopefully she wouldn't need it any time soon.

The floorboards of the ceiling above her creaked, and Riza's heart sank. If he was still in his study this late at night, it was unlikely she would be able to get some of her own studying done. Not while her father was awake and expected her assistance with his.

Nevertheless, Riza prepared a quick supper to carry up to him. Perhaps he wouldn't need her, and she could finish the chapter on Amestrian history she'd been working on for the last week. She had finally made it to the Alchemical Riots of 1765 and the complete condemnation and subsequent banning of alchemy in the country. Arguably one of the biggest events that changed the future of Amestris. Not that many really cared about it in any rate.

Most were too concerned about the technological advancements that had been made that allowed Amestris to become the leading industrial and mechanical power that it was.

Lost in her thoughts, Riza carried the tray up the stairs to her father, careful to avoid the rotten step midway on the stairs. She'd been meaning to fix the step for months now, but there was never enough time to do it. There didn't appear to be much time coming up to fix it either.

Gently, Riza knocked on her father's study door. There was the sound of a chair being scraped along the floor followed by heavy footfalls as her father marched over to the door. It was flung open and Riza found herself looking up to her father's displeased face.

"Riza! There you are girl! Where were you when I called for you an hour ago?" He gravelly voice growled at her.

She had barely opened her mouth to explain that the weather had caused the delay in her return home, when her father grabbed her arm and pulled her into the study. The supper she had been carrying was haphazardly discarded to the side as Riza was steered towards the dividing screen in the corner.

"You know what needs to be done. I would like to finish the-" Berthold broke from his sentence in a fit of coughing before continuing. "The code before the month ends."

From her position behind the screen divider, Riza undid the buttons on her dress down to her waist. Slipping her arms from her sleeves, she tied the sleeves together behind her, before slipping on a specially crafted apron to cover the front of her body. The exposed skin of her back revealed a partially completed alchemical array. She emerged from behind the panels and took position on the table that had been her place during the nights for the past month.

The cold winter storm outside was warmer than the needle used to penetrate the skin of her back.

"Are you alright Riza? Something seems a little off about you today."

Riza and some of the other coworkers she worked with in the factory had been granted twenty minutes for them to eat and use the facilities. An unexpected occurrence as they had not yet been able to fill the vacant spot Mary-Ann's death had left in the factory and were behind on production. It had been a week since the last midday break that anyone of them had, and Riza was already getting used to the limited food intake.

That fact was making it difficult for Riza to swallow the pitiful sandwich she had brought with her.

"Excuse me?" Riza broke away from the swirling mess inside her head to glance at her coworker.

The girl was a pretty thing. She had brown curls that were cut close to her head. An outcome that came due to Mary-Ann's death most likely. Riza herself had cut her hair shorter after the incident as a precaution. But despite the overall pleasant appearance, there were clear signs of her occupation, in the grime on her face and clothes, and on the callouses on her hands.

"Are you feeling ill?" The girl asked of Riza. "Perhaps your back is giving you trouble?"

Riza froze, any thoughts that could have been in her head before gone. It wasn't showing was it? No, it couldn't be. She had ensured that she was wearing the dress with the highest neck to keep her father's work from being spotted as it encroached on the back of her neck. It was also one of the darker ones, as to keep the red ink from being seen through the fabric. Only as an extra precaution though; her underclothes assisted in keeping the lower parts of the tattoo hidden.

The truth of the matter was her back was giving her a little bit of trouble. Her father had been working on the upper portions of the tattoo, having finished the bottom already, and Riza found the skin was a little more tender approaching the back of her neck. Perhaps it was because there wasn't as much between her skin and the bones underneath as there had been on the lower portions of her back. Not that there was much in those portions in any case either.

But she couldn't let anyone know that her father was working hours at night to transcribe his notes onto her skin. His secret notes. His forbidden by the government, if discovered it would lead to arrest and likely imprisonment, if not death, alchemical notes.

And that was only what would happen to him. There would be no telling what they would do to Riza, the harborer of the notes. Would she be forced to undergo ways that would rid her back of them, permanently scarring her without attempting to obtain their secrets? Or would she be forced to wait as they decoded her father's work while she could do nothing to stop them?

No. She wouldn't let anyone use her the way her father was. Never again. She would take that small amount of savings she had set aside from her meager paycheck and leave when her letter came in. She would start over in a new place with a new identity, far away from Riza Hawkeye.

"Riza? Are you sure that you're alright? You drifted off a little on me there."

Riza looked at the concerned face of the young woman next to her.

"I'm fine, Ellen. Just a little tired I guess." Riza attempted to give a small smile to reassure the girl of the lie she was attempting to sell.

Before Riza could gauge how well her lie had gone down with the younger girl, the bell rang again, indicating the only break they received for the day was over and everyone was to head back to work. Riza placed her mostly uneaten sandwich back in her pail and returned it to it's place before she resumed her position in front of a machine larger than her. Six more hours and then she would be able to return to her father's house.

But only after checking again if her ticket out of this little town had arrived.

By the time her shift had finished five and a half hours later, the minor twinges of pain emanating from her back had grown and multiplied to the point where she could barely straighten her back from bending over the machines all day. The medication she had taken before leaving the house that morning had worn off well before her only break, and she hadn't the time to grab more to accompany her lunch as she left that morning.

With every caress of her heavy woolen dress, the only one she had for the frigid winter months, the irritation across her upper back grew until it was almost as if her father had not bothered with the secret array, but had simply lit her back on fire. Her shoulders screamed as she stretched and slid her arms into the sleeves of her frock coat. Nothing seemed more appealing than laying in the few feet of snow outside and allowing the cold to numb her whole body.

Even if that were the most appealing thing to come to Riza's mind, it was one of the last things she was about to do. She still needed to drop by Havoc's to see if the letter she had been waiting weeks for had finally given her the excuse she had been seeking, before returning to the house and taking care of her father. If that letter had come, she would be putting her plan into action that very night.

The bell above the door chimed as Riza pushed her way into the store and post office. Jacob Havoc was handing over a full bag of sweets to a couple of the local children, but he looked up and waved to the blonde woman that had walked through the door, indicating that he would be with her in just a moment.

Riza raised her hand in acknowledgement and meandered over to look at some of the other stuff that was available at the store. Most of which she would be unable to purchase, but was nice to look at anyway. Perhaps one day she would be able to afford such things.

It was a nice thought.

She wasn't kept waiting very long as Jacob shooed the youngsters from his store and waved Riza over to the counter.

"I've got a letter for you, Miss Riza," he said holding out an envelope across the counter.

Riza wasted no time. The moment the letter was in her hands, the paper was being torn and she was reading the words. This was it. The moment of truth. Her opportunity to make it out from under her father's thumb and make her life her own again.

But the further she managed to read down the page, the lower her heart sank. Her application was denied. She would remain here with her factory job, and her father.

Her disappointment must have appeared on her face, because Jacob reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, child?"

Riza looked at the older man and bit her lip. She could feel the heat in her eyes as tears attempted to push their way to the surface, but she refused to allow them to come. Tears would do nothing for her. They hadn't when her mother died and her father began his crusade.

She offered him the letter.

It only took him a few moments to skim through the entirety of the thing. The closer to the end that he got the more his face contorted, like he was sucking a sour pickle. When he was finally done reading Riza's letter he set it aside and grabbed one of Riza's calloused hands. He closed his hands around hers and tugged her a little closer to the counter. Riza didn't resist and took that extra step closer.

"They're fools, all of them. You're a brilliant woman, and any academy should consider itself blessed for you to grace their halls with your intellect." Jacob attempted to smile at her. "How long have you been planning on leaving?"

Riza swallowed. Longer than she would admit aloud.

Jacob seemed to understand and patted her hand a couple of times before letting go. He took a step back and reached under the counter for a moment. When he returned he was holding one of the small sacks he had used earlier in the evening with the children and their candy. From the slight bulge to it, Riza assumed he had slipped some sweets in there for her as well.

"A gift. Don't you worry about paying me back for it, it's on the house tonight."

"Thank you, Mr. Havoc. I appreciate the kindness," Riza said, taking the bag from the older gentleman. It wasn't likely that she was going to eat any of the sweets inside, she had never been one to have the 'sweet tooth' as others. They both knew she was likely to hand the sweets inside to one of the village children, or save it to distribute amongst the other factory workers.

Riza slid the little bag into one of the pockets on her coat when the door to the store was flung open. Jacob's son, Jerome, was bracing himself against the doorframe attempted to slow the way he was gulping the air into his lungs. Both Jacob and Riza started toward the young man.

"R-Riza! Come quick!" Jerome gasped. He raised his head to look at his father and Riza. "It's your fa-father!"

"My Father?" Riza appeared at Jerome's side and helped him to stand up straight. "What happened with my father?"

There were a million thoughts racing each other through Riza's head. Had her father's time come? Had the illness he had been fighting for the past months finally captured her father in it's talons? Would he still be around for her to say her goodbyes? Had someone discovered that he had been researching alchemy for the past few years? Had they found him? Would someone come for her?

All of these thoughts were gone within a split second of entering her brain. Riza gripped Jerome's upper arm tightly.

"What happened, Jerome?! Tell me!"

Taking a breath, Jerome looked Riza in the face, brown eyes to brown eyes.

"The military. I overheard them at the station. They want your father. I don't know why, but they do. I told Jessie to stall them while I warned you, but I'm not sure how long she'll be able to do it." Jerome turned to his father. "What would the military want with Mr. Hawkeye? I doubt a ill recluse would be of any real interest to them."

But Jacob wasn't looking at his son. His gray eyes rested resolutely on Riza's figure. He couldn't see the face she was giving his son, but he didn't need to see it. Jacob could read her as well as he could read any of his own children. And he could see with the way every muscle in her body tensed and the way her hands were clasped around Jerome's upper arm. In the way her shoulders rose and her head dropped.

Riza was desperate.

It only took her a second to let the impact of Jerome's words to sink into her brain before she let go of Jerome's arm.

"I have to go."

Riza didn't look back as she ran out into the winter atmosphere outside. She ignored the calls of Jacob and Jerome as she sprinted as fast as she could toward her house.

She needed to warn her father. She needed to get him out of there. He was harsh and neglectful, but she didn't want him to be tortured by the Military. She never wanted that.

All she had wanted was to be free. To be Riza Hawkeye outside of her father's influence.

Still, with each step on the compacted snow, she ran closer to her house. The wind pushed at her back, encouraging her to move faster. If Riza listened closely to the wind while ignoring her own breaths, she thought she could make out the sounds of military vehicles following her. If they were back there, they would overtake her within minutes.

She pushed her legs harder as she pushed those thoughts aside. To dwell along those thoughts would be to hinder herself.

"Father!" She shouted as soon as she flung the door open, uncaring if it slammed into the wall behind it. It was unlikely that they would be able to return.

"Father! Where are you?" Riza took the steps two at a time. "We have to leave! The military is here! They know about your work!"

Riza threw open the door to her father's study without bothering to knock, an infraction that had led to severe punishment when she was younger. Taking a couple steps inside, Riza saw that the study was empty. Not just of her father, but of everything that had been in there the night prior. All the materials he had used to permanently disfigure her back with, gone. The ink and the needles. The scraps of paper her father had composed the pattern the tattoo was to take form of. Even the scrap of fabric that she had worn during the process was gone.

Was she too late? Had the military come and cleaned out everything?

"Hold your tongue girl! We don't need your voice announcing to the world my work!" Berthold Hawkeye appeared from his bedroom and limped toward his daughter.

Riza was unable to deny herself the relief she felt at the sight of her father walking toward her, free from restraints.

"Father! The military-!"

"Are on their way. Yes girl, I heard you when you were shouting for me. Grab your bag, we're leaving."

Berthold shouldered past his daughter and continued down the stairs with a light satchel slung over his shoulders. He didn't look back at Riza once to determine if she was following his order or not.

Riza didn't allow herself any time to allow the fact her father was still free to sink in. The military was still coming, and they were both still in danger. They needed to make their escape quickly if they wanted to stay out of federal prison. Or hanging from a rope.

There wasn't much that Riza grabbed when she went into her room. Some clothes, her good shoes, and a few personal toiletries. She closed the small bag and slung it across her shoulders and hurried to rejoin her father downstairs. She reached the door when she remembered something that she couldn't bear to leave behind.

As quickly as her legs could carry her, she ran to her bedside table and pulled open the drawer to withdraw the only item inside. The golden locket and chain threw the light that it caught onto Riza's face.

Inside was the only picture she had left of her mother. It had been a portrait taken a few months after Riza's birth. Riza was resting in her mother's arms as she sat with her father standing just behind them. Her mother's face was slightly smiling, so contrary to most of the other portraits that Riza had seen others have. Even her father's face was softer.

Of course that had stopped once her mother died.

Clutching the locket tightly in her hand, Riza dashed out if the room. There was no time for her to properly secure it around her neck at the moment, and to leave it in her bag or one of her pockets would only tempt fate further.

And she was not about to do that.

Her father was waiting for her in the hall. Berthold's icy-blue eyes watched her land every step on the stairs until she was on the floor a few feet in front of him.

"Come, our escape awaits us just over the hill in the clearing."

Riza nodded and followed her father out the back door and through the snow. With the recent snow-storm they had had, their tracks would not be hard to miss once the military arrived and found that they were no longer in their house. Riza hoped they would get far enough into the woods to put some distance between them before they arrived. Perhaps make it all the way to the clearing.

The clearing was a forbidden place for Riza. All through her childhood years, she had be able to roam anywhere she wanted on the mountainside. There were no neighbors to worry about the young girl trespassing on their property, and the carnivorous wildlife had been driven from the area due to the wealthy in town hunting for sport, rather than sustenance. The only rule was she needed to have sight in the house at all times. And crossing over the hill into the clearing did not have a line of sight to the house.

The snow was deep and hindered their escape. In addition, the extra strain from the exercise exacerbated the cough that was in Berthold's lungs. They could go no more than a dozen or so feet before Berthold would have to stop and bend over as he fought to regain his breath.

It worried Riza. But not as much as when she noticed the small red droplets falling in the snow.

"Father!" She cried out. Her arms reached out to catch her father as he collapsed against the ground.

Using the strength she had, Riza heaved her father from his face-down position in the snow to a resting position against a tree. Blood trickled down his chin and splattered against the collar of his coat. Riza knelt in front of him and attempted to wipe the blood on his face away. His feeble hand caught her wrist.

"No. It's my time."

"But, Father, I can—."

Her sentence was interrupted by the sounds of wood cracking and glass smashing. Riza whipped her head around to look down the hill toward where their house was. Shouts followed soon after the crashes. The military was there.

They were going to get caught.

"Go, leave me behind." Her father's weak voice turned her attention back to him.

"I can't. Not when they're so close behind us." Riza swallowed at the lump that had formed in her throat. This hadn't been what she wanted. She didn't want to part like this, a fugitive from the government with her father knocking on death's door.

"Listen to me. Get to the clearing. You'll find means of escape there. Start over. And whatever you do, do not let anyone see the code on your back. Go. Go!"

With a feeble shove against her wrist, Berthold pushed his daughter away. For a moment Riza only looked at her father, torn between obeying and not. But something in her face hardened, she nodded once, and left.

As Berthold watched his only living relative escape higher up the mountain, he settled himself in place, waiting to be found. With a quick scrape of a pocket knife, he carved a transmutation circle in the bark of the tree he rested upon. He pressed his two fingers against the rim of the circle and activated it.

A gust of cold mountain air blew down and wiped all traces of Riza's footprints away.

"Goodbye, and good luck, brave daughter," he whispered into the empty air.

His eyes were closed before the military arrived with their guns drawn.

Riza had reached the crest of the hill before she considered taking a pause for breath. Even then she only spared a moment to look back from whence she came. The clearing was only a few dozen feet ahead of her. She would be able to get in whatever vehicle her father had stashed up there and disappear before the military could catch her.

Descending down the side of the hill to get to the clearing wasn't as easy as Riza had hoped. The snow covered everything underneath it, disguising the ice and exposed tree roots from her keen eyes. Several times she stumbled or slipped as she descended.

A small unfrozen creek appeared between the banks of snow. Riza let out a startled yell and clamored to regain her balance. It wasn't until she gripped the trunk of a nearby tree that she stopped herself from falling into the freezing water.

Taking a moment to regain her breath and to evaluate how to get across without dropping anything into the water, Riza rested her head against the tree.

What was she doing? She had nowhere to go. Her application had been denied and had no family left.

She hit the tree with her fist. This hadn't been what she wanted when she talked of freedom.

Her back burned worse than ever.

"She went this way!" A man shouted.

Riza turned to face where she had come from to see a lone soldier standing upon the crest of the hill between the gaps of the bare trees. The blue of his uniform contrasted greatly against the snow underneath his feet and against the gray-brown of the tree bark. Riza could not make out his face, the distance between them was too great. But she knew if he looked hard enough he would be able to spot her through the mass of trees around her. The dark green of her coat would see to that.

Clutching her mother's locket tightly in her hand, Riza backed away from the tree. She was going to have to jump over the creek. One slip and she would fall into the water below. Riza swallowed and took a deep breath.

There were only a short few steps to build up enough speed to clear across the divide. It wasn't enough, but there would be no going back. Not once her feet left the ground and she was flying through the air. She thought she could hear the soldier at the the top of the hill cry out at her leap, but that didn't matter.

The moment her boots touched the ground again, she was running.

Everything hurt. Everything burned. Her back, her legs, her side. Never in her life had she run for so long or so fast.

Finally it was within reach. The trees around her were beginning to clear out and Riza could see the clearing. The deepness of the snow grew the further out from the interior of the forest she ran. It hindered her progress slightly, but Riza only lifted the skirts of her dress and moved forward with a wider stride. She was so close to achieving her escape. She couldn't fail now.

With a bang, the bark on a tree in front of her splintered and flew in every direction. Riza's run stuttered before she continued on. It didn't take her long to process that it was a gunshot. That they just shot at her.

"FOOL! We need her alive! She may be the only key to the old man's research now!" Someone screamed behind her.

Just a few more feet. Just a few more.

The clearing was empty. Void of anything but snow.

"No."

Riza spun around in the center of the clearing. Desperately looking for anything she could have missed when she first dashed into the open space. But there was still nothing. No vehicle, no horse. Not even a visible path outside to take outside of the clearing. Nothing but snow and the bootprints she had created once she ran in. Riza sunk to her knees. Her hands were bare, but she gripped at the snow in front of her anyway.

"Major! I found her!"

Riza barely lifted her head to watch a soldier emerge from the woods with his gun drawn and pointed at her. He wouldn't shoot her. She knew. The military needed her alive to expose her father's secrets to them. Even if they didn't know they only needed the array on her back. She didn't need to be alive for someone to discern it.

It didn't take long for the soldier's superior officer to arrive.

"Well done Cadet. Now, arrest her. I would very much like to get out of this hell hole they call a village. Hopefully, we will be able to get back to the station and leave before the weather takes another turn."

Riza didn't have to look up to know that the weather was beginning to turn. The wind was picking up, whipping Riza's short blonde hair across her face. Loose snow was lifted from their resting place on the ground and swirled around everyone standing in the vicinity of the clearing. Light flashed from the sky as the clouds rolled down through the mountains.

She waited. Her freedom was gone, slipping from her grasp before she even had the chance to fully grasp it for her own. The moment the iron cuffs were strapped her wrist she would become a non-entity. Another faceless and nameless victim that would be long forgotten as soon as those who knew of her died.

A sudden shout drew Riza's attention from the snow beneath her.

"What the hell is happening?!"

Riza rose her head to see that it wasn't the weather that was blowing the wind and snow around in the clearing. Nor was it lightning in the sky that was illuminating the area. It was lighting from the ground.

It was alchemy.

Startled, Riza attempted to pull her hands from the ground, but found she was unable too. Her hands were pinned to the ground as the transmutation grew in power. It was as if she were the one activating the transmutation.

But that wasn't possible. Riza knew absolutely nothing of alchemy. She had asked her father to teach her what he knew when she was young and still in school, but he refused. His response was that he was not going to potentially lose his daughter to alchemy.

It didn't take very much to see the irony now.

When Riza imagined performing alchemy when she was younger, she never imagined that it would feel anything like this. She didn't expect there to be any pain involved. The sense of burning that had been on her back and in her muscles was back and it was intensified tenfold. It permeated down to the innermost organs and there was no relief in sight. She felt as every cell in her body was being torn apart from each other violently. If this was what alchemy felt like every time a transmutation was performed, she wanted nothing to do with it.

Distantly, Riza heard someone screaming. A voice in the back of her head told herself that it she was hearing her own screams.

She was being pressed upon from all directions. Had she the mental processes, she would have evaluated that this was how it felt to be fruit she crushed for their juice.

The light from the transmutation was growing brighter. Riza had to turn away from looking at where the two soldiers had fallen backwards in their haste to clear the area. Alchemy was taboo, and hardly anyone knew what happened during the process. It was safer to retreat to a good distance away should anything unpleasant happen.

Using every ounce of energy that she had left in her, Riza focused on prying her hands away from the ground. If she could disconnect from the unseen circle, perhaps she could stop the transmutation and everything would stop and go away. Perhaps everything would go away.

She couldn't keep the scream from leaving her body as she freed her hands from the snow. There was a moment of relief at the broken connection, before everything went dark and Riza collapsed into the melting snow.

The outskirts of Central, Amestris, 1763

The night was chilled. Only a light dusting of snow covered the flat ground outside the blooming city of Central. The winter had been a mild one so far, possessing none of the violent winter storms that had plagued them in the previous years.

It eased the hasty retreat of the three men on horseback.

"I thought you said that the Major wouldn't be there for another few days!" One of them shouted.

"How was I supposed to know that he would come home early!" Another shouted. "I'm not all-powerful! I'm just an alchemist!"

A third man barked out a laugh. "An alchemist with the most extensive intelligence network I've seen! Your network rivals the king's!"

The alchemist said nothing to either of the men he was riding beside. His grip on the reins tightened and he urged his steed to run a little faster, pulling ahead of the other two. The dark hood that was still clinging to his head slipped off, exposing the dark hair underneath.

The third man sidled up to the first once the space where the alchemist was cleared. A flop of blonde hair peeked out from the dark hat that was on his head.

"What's the matter with him? So what, we didn't get the intel we wanted. We'll have another opportunity as soon as his informant sends her report."

The first man sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose underneath his spectacles.

"It's not that simple Jean. Were you not paying attention when we left? We weren't headed to Central for the intel. We were there for the informant. There's reason to believe that her cover was compromised, and that her life was in peril."

"Shit." Jean glanced back at the trail leading back to Central. "Shit, I'm sorry Maes."

Maes pushed his spectacles back up to the bridge of his nose and stared at the back of their alchemist ahead of them.

"Don't be bothered too much by it. The trouble we ran into was not your doing."

"Still, I could have been more attentive."

"Well, yes." Maes gave Jean a brief look. Jean scowled back at him.

The horse in front of them slowed from its gallop to a trot, before it stopped completely on the trail ahead of them. Jean and Maes pulled on the reins of their horses to stop alongside their third man.

"What is it?" Maes asked. His hands drifted toward his hip where he kept a couple knives alongside a pistol.

Jean likewise rested his hand on the rifle that was slung beside him.

"Don't you feel that?"

Maes and Jean glanced at their partner before glancing down at the ground around them. There wasn't anything happening. Earthquakes were rare in Amestris, especially in the area around Central, but not completely unheard of. But there was nothing happening. Not even the tremor of loose pebbles on the ground from any pursuers.

"Roy, there isn't anything to feel. If this is still about the informant we left behind in Central, you know that it wasn't your fault. What's going on with you?" Maes dropped his hand from his knives and reached out for the other man. Roy brushed off his concern with a swat of the hand.

"But it's everywhere. How can you not feel it?" Roy turned to look at his friends, a wild look in his eyes.

"Listen. There's nothing to feel. The only thing we should be feeling right now is the pace of our horses as we get a fair distance away from this place."

Roy muttered to himself as he allowed his horse to move a few steps away from the other two. His attention was rapt to the mountains. He was oblivious to the exchanged glances of his companions and the short whisperings they shared concerning him.

"I have to get over there."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell are you talking about? There's nothing in the mountains. It's nothing but certain death to head—."

The rest of Jean's sentence was cut off with the sound of hooves beating against the ground with shouting accompanying them. The trail they had just come from began to illuminate under the light of handheld torches.

The military had caught up with them.

"Shit. Shit. Fuck. We gotta go." Jean jerked his head toward the direction they were heading prior to Roy's stop. He didn't wait for any response before he took off.

Maes nodded and reached out. Without hesitating, he slapped the dazed face of his friend who had made no indication he was aware of the military being seconds from catching up with them. Roy had still been muttering that he needed to head up to the mountains when the sudden slap cut it off. When he had turned back to look at Maes there was a look of disbelief on his face as well as anger.

"What the hell? I bit my tongue."

Maes only jerked his thumb back towards the oncoming party of pursuers before he spurred his horse to taking off after Jean. Roy glanced up to see the torchlight from where they had come, and was quick to follow after Maes and Jean.

Nothing was said between the three of them as they ran. Although it wouldn't have mattered if they had. The military had caught a glimpse of Roy as he rounded the top of one of the few hills in the area, and their efforts doubled to catch up with the fugitives. And as soon as they reached the level ground again, they began to fire their muskets.

Aiming with most muskets would be difficult. Most times when someone fired, the slug would end up a few feet away in something that wasn't being aimed at. Not entirely a bad thing when those being fired upon was lined up in a straight row, but on horseback aim was almost non-existent. But those were most muskets.

These were the military's muskets.

Despite the proclamation by the king and the military that alchemy was the devil's hand on earth and that it, and anyone found to be practicing it, should be cleansed from existence; Roy and the others fighting knew that the king's government had been utilizing alchemy to modify their weapons to improve their aim.

Better aim combined with the highly trained officers of the Amestris military was a deadly combination. Whether on horseback or not, the men fleeing had lost more than one friend at the hands of a military officer and understood the dangers of what they were up against.

Which was why Roy was working frantically with the materials in his bag. If he could finish his calculations in time, he could have a live grenade to drop behind them and create some distance between them and the military.

"You better be working on a plan there Roy! Cause I would hate to end this hanging from the end of a rope. My wife will be severely displeased with me."

If Roy had the mental facilities to spare, he would have rolled his eyes at his friend. Fortunately, Jean covered that for him.

"Of course he does! Gracia would kill him if he didn't."

"Alright, that should about do it." Roy secured the flap of the small bag, and glanced over his shoulder to see how close the soldiers were behind him. Too close for comfort, but far enough where Roy and the others wouldn't get caught in the blast.

Turning slightly in his saddle, Roy lobbed the small package after touching the circle that had been stitched into the leather. The shimmering light from the transmutation lit up the night far better than the torches some of the soldiers carried. Once the soldiers noticed the transmutation, they attempted to get out of the way, for they all understood what happened when Roy performed alchemy.

But it was too late. The bag exploded, sending soldiers flying from their horses, and engulfing everything within a fifteen foot radius within a ball of fire. Those that weren't blown from their steeds or engulfed in fire reared back, torn between their order to pursue, and their desires to help their comrades in any way that they could.

The retreat of the three men slowed as they took in the damage created by the alchemic grenade, and to see if any of the soldiers would continue the pursuit. Jean and Maes had pistols at the ready in case anyone made it through the fire.

None came through. Relieved that for the moment they were free, Maes and Jean holstered their pistols again.

"Come on. Let's get out of here. I'm sure Grumman will want to know what happened tonight. And," Maes directed his horse away from the burning aftermath of Roy's attack, "I'm sure that he'll want to discuss our next move, now that we've potentially lost a key informant."

Jean agreed and moved to follow Maes' lead.

Roy stared at the flames he created for a moment or so longer. Then his head gave a slight twitch and he looked around him, before resting his gaze on the two other men. He nodded to them and they began moving again.

As they continued along, no longer at the fast pace they had been before, but not slowed down to a walk, Roy could feel what had caught his attention before the soldiers had caught up with them. This time, he kept his mouth shut and focused on moving his horse forward.

But it still called to him. A vibration deep in his soul that told him to go up the mountains. To find what was causing the disturbance there.

Whatever it was, it would have to be dealt with later. He needed to finish his mission first, report back to Grumman, before he could go off and do anything as foolhardy as heading up the mountains to search for something he knew nothing about.

But he promised himself. He would go and find out what was calling him up there.

Even if he had to disobey orders to do so.

A/N: What is this that I've gotten myself into? I don't know, all I know is that the idea had been bugging me since last year and I finally sat down to write it out earlier. I can't say when the next chapter will be coming out, considering how long it took this one to come out, but hopefully it'll come out within the next month or so. Please leave a review, I would really appreciate it.