I don't won FMA but I hope you enjoy this :)

Prologue

My father had always been a hermit ever since my mother had died. I couldn't really blame him. The depth of sadness in his eyes was almost unbearable to see and the fact that he never moved on was much harder for me to bear. I was sixteen when he died. I was left alone but yet I didn't feel any sadness when he died. In fact I saw it as something completely different. I had a chance for my own life now I didn't care what he would have thought. He'd treated me horribly over the years but I didn't dwell on the details. I wasn't his daughter in the end, I was just the girl who lived in the same house and shared his blood.

It was shortly before he died that he decided that it was probably best for him to pass on his secrets somehow. His last student, Mustang, had left almost three years before without any sign that he would ever return. I didn't blame him. So my father turned to me to preserve his secrets, but it's far worse than you think…

I was fifteen when he suddenly decided the way I would help him. He would tattoo the secrets onto my back and no amount of my tears seemed to make him stop. Of course I finally stopped crying and just let him do it to me. He wasn't my father anymore, he wasn't human any more. His soul had been consumed by flame.

"This should set you up with a future," he told me after he finished. He glared over me. "Be thankful I have given you what you never would have."

I wanted to ask him how the secrets on my back would help have a future that I would never have. I would never have a normal relationship with anyone. Alchemists would only want me for the secrets on my back. I had no future. I remembered how much he hated people, how much he hated me and Mustang. He hated us some much without a single reason than we had a life a head of us.

Mustang returned, ironically on the day of my father's death. He had been there when my father had died. The fact he'd returned so cockily was what probably finished him off. He probably had a heart attack. Mustang stayed for the funeral and then left me to my own devices but before he left I gave him what he'd always wanted. Of course some men don't know better than to play with fire…