My Notes: This story is about Edward and Alphonse helping out a gypsy girl in her struggles. That's putting it as simple as possible. They help her, she finds a way to help them. Please don't diss on this before you actually read it. Give this story a chance. I promise it will get better as it goes on. This is, after all, just the prologue. Prologues are supposed to foreshadow a bit, but not compleatly give away. This is about how they met, ok? Please give it a chance. You may find you like it if you stick with it. (is sobbing from lack of reveiws on either story, unsure if it's her prologues or if its her descriptions, but wants to show the world that she can write, and well, if they will let her)
Note2: This story takes place after the movie, so don't be too surprised on anything if you haven't seen it all. Read this as your own risk. Got it?
Three: This serves as a disclaimer for the whole story. I do not in any way own FMA. Although I do sincerely with Ed was MY playboy...(no, I did not just say that out loud. You did not hear that. You are imagining it. Poof!)
Journey Again
Summary
Alchemy, to this side of the gate, is, and always has been, voodoo magic. Forbidden by any respectable religion. Gypsies, dear sweet nomads, have always been hated by those respectable religions. But especially by the Nazis. She tried to tell them she wasn't a gypsy, but they didn't believe her. So she used something I'd have never thought possible. She used alchemy. Real alchemy, like I had once used. Her power, her gifts, they offered us a way home. Al and I were fed up with life here. So we took her up on the offer. What happened next, well, it's history. You'll have to read our story to find out.
Prologue (Through Sythia's Eyes):
Stepping up on that stage was the hardest thing I've ever done. At least, at that time it was. Looking out at that audience and seeing each of them in turn. That one had brown hair, that one was harboring Jews. That one was a proud Nazi. Here they didn't know who was what, they just got their drinks and sat back and listened. So what was I afraid of?
My days are long,
Starting under morning dew.
My heart calls lullabies,
Hoping to soothe you.
You left and went so far,
Your journey was away from here.
But this piece of you I hold,
Here inside of me.
Those blond brothers seemed to be enjoying themselves that night. All I wanted was a tip and some respect. Having hair and skin as dark as mine singled me out and marked me as a possible gypsy. I could always find a way to convince them I wasn't, but it was getting harder. It seemed all they wanted was to kill anyone who was not like them.
I can't follow; I am bound to this place.
But I will always watch the sunset,
Waiting to see you appear
From within the golden embers.
Your journey will end someday,
You will come back to see me.
Oh, but something will have changed.
You won't be the same you once were.
Those times were so screwed up, I was so afraid. The shorter brother came to the stage, setting me some money at the edge. He could tell I needed it. I guess my bones were showing a little more. I held gratitude in my eyes; I wished I could have told him to wait for me. But I had to sing my song. Actually, it was my mother's song. That didn't matter. I sang it now, so it was technically mine. They didn't think of my mother when singing it, they didn't even care about her. She was just some long dead woman that no one cared for.
He went back and put his coat onto his shoulders. He was leaving. There were still two verses left in the song, about the journeyer's heart and how much his love cared for him. Then again, I didn't want to miss my chance to meet this man. Something about him told me there was a future worth looking for. I wanted to find that future. I wanted him to help me find it. Maybe he could free me, he certainly held the aura of power about his body. He could change things, at least, that's what I believed.
A brief visit in,
Then you are on the other side again.
Oh, darling, a song once more,
As you are leaving to journey again.