Title: Fragments Born of Pain

Author: S J Smith

Rating: R/Teen

Summary: The discovery of a transmutation circle in an ancient city leads to problems for Edward and Alphonse that no one would've ever suspected.

Disclaimer: If I had any part of this, I wouldn't wonder if I can pay my bills this month.

Notes: Written for the 2012-2013 FMA Big Bang, inspired by art by the wonderful ArielF (as seen on Deviantart).

A.N.2: Thanks to D. M. Evans for her help with this story.

Prologue
The past is still, for us, a place that is not safely settled.
Michael Ondaatje

Alphonse was accustomed to the sunlight back home, in Risembool, but here, in the high altitude hills at the borders of Xing and the Eastern Desert and Ishbal, the light seemed different. Diffuse, from the rarified air, maybe. Wiping his forehead on the back of his arm, he glanced up at the sun. He still had a few hours yet before he had to get back to Balaghat. The Ishbalans refused to sleep in the ancient, unnamed city here in the mountain, and Alphonse understood why. It wasn't because of the threat of ghosts, but, having been abandoned for what appeared to be centuries, it would be dangerous to be in it at night. He'd sprung enough traps to realize whomever had created this city had left it to protect itself from intruders. The overgrowth from the jungle made it even harder to navigate the streets, much less avoid the traps.

"Mr. Alphonse!"

He turned at the sound of his name, waving his hand spade at the girl trotting toward him, a jug of water cradled in his hands. "Careful, Nesrah! Make sure to follow the path I cut out of the brush."

She nodded, slowing her headlong pace and picking her way more slowly. Nesrah had been one of the children to locate the city; she and her siblings playing higher up in the foothills than the adults generally went, following the sheep and goats the Ishbalans raised. They'd been the ones who'd led the children into the city, and the children, in turn, led Alphonse and some of the other adults here. The Ishbalans decided they didn't need to know more about the city, though there were no taboos to keep Alphonse, or the goats and sheep, and their shepherds, from exploring it.

Nesrah placed her bare feet carefully as she climbed up the stone steps, the rise much higher than comfortable even for an adult, to reach Alphonse. Handing him the jug, she turned, sitting down on a broken slab of granite and swinging her legs. She didn't seem to realize how high up she was sitting, nor how far down the fall would be if she slipped. Alphonse kept his mouth closed. The children had been playing here for more years than he'd had his real body back. When he'd asked if any of them were afraid, they'd given him the same blank stares he was sure he and Ed had given adults asking the same stupid question when they were kids.

Taking a drink from the jug, Alphonse let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until he actually smelled the sweet, cool water. "Thank you, Nesrah."

She dimpled, her ruby eyes squinting half-closed in her pleasure. "You're welcome, Mr. Alphonse! Did you find anything new today?"

He took another drink and set the jug down, careful to make sure the rounded bottom was settled into a niche to keep the water from spilling out. The sandy desert made its own table, and the round-bottom jugs dug into the sand to remain upright. Here, in the highlands, amidst the rock and green growing things, the round-bottom jugs weren't quite as practical. "A few beads," he reached for the leather pouch he used to store the treasures he'd found. "Look." Pulling out a golden bead, he passed it to Nesrah.

She let out an appreciative gasp, turning the bead over in her fingers. "It looks like a long-necked goat!"

"I think it's a llama," Alphonse told Nesrah as she handed the bead back. "They're kind of like camels, I think, or maybe sheep." He shrugged, he hadn't really studied what sort of genus the llama were when he'd seen his first one, instead he'd been more amazed at how well they spit. Juggling the two additional beads, Alphonse offered them to Nesrah. One was a pendant, carved out of a blue stone shot with sparkles of gold pyrite. A baleful face glared out of either side. The pendant was different on each side, not quite mirror images; the other a cylindrical bead of gold, a tube with two indentations on either end. Nesrah studied them and returned them, and Alphonse dumped them carefully in the pouch again.

"What else do you think you'll find, Mr. Alphonse?" Nesrah asked, practically dancing in place in her enthusiasm.

"I don't know, Nesrah," Alphonse had to say. "Maybe something totally amazing. Maybe just some more of these beads."

Nesrah tucked her forefinger into the corner of her mouth, a scowl marring her forehead. Suddenly, she brightened, grabbing Alphonse's wrist with her damp hand. "I can show you something! Get up, Mr. Alphonse!"

Groaning, Alphonse got to his feet, staggering for a second as the blood rushed back down to his lower extremities. "All right," he said, "but remember, Nesrah, we need to be careful."

"Mm!" She kept hold of him, though her hand slid down to clasp his as she led him along. Surefooted as one of the animals she might have shepherded around this site, she led him along down a narrow path between two large walls, one of natural stone, the other obviously built by human hands. Nesrah didn't give Alphonse time to marvel, tugging at him whenever he tried to stop and look at something. "Come quickly, Mr. Alphonse, or you won't see!"

He glanced skyward. The sun's light had gone ruddy and the bowl of sky overhead changed from the clear blue of the day to more indigo and violet tones, indicating that dusk approached. They needed to leave the mountain soon or risk being stuck in the dead city overnight. "Where are you taking me, Nesrah?"

"Not much further," she promised, giving him a bright grin and pointing toward the top of a hill. Scampering up it much like the goats she'd herded, she led a slower Alphonse to the top of the rise, standing on what had to be a man-made mound – he wasn't sure just how he knew, but maybe Mei's attempts to teach him about the Dragon's Pulse had paid off in some way.

Blowing as he reached the top of the rise, Alphonse stopped to mop his forehead. The air was definitely thinner up here. It took a few seconds for him to catch his breath. Beside him, Nesrah danced from one foot to the other. "Look!"

Alphonse straightened, pressing his hands into the small of his back. As he followed Nesrah's pointing finger, all the little nagging pains disappeared, and he sucked in a deep breath. "Nesrah," he whispered, putting his hand on her head to try to get her to stay still. He wanted to drink it down, the sight in front of him, of a figure carved from stone. "Dad," he whispered, eyes wide.

"What?"

"Shh, Nesrah." Eyes raking over the figure, Alphonse decided it wasn't really his father; the nose was even longer than Dad's had been and the eyes were decidedly more narrow. His cheekbones were higher, too, and his chin weaker. Still, there was a resemblance, something that told Alphonse that the carving was of a Xerxian man. And, in relief above his head, a transmutation circle, and symbols Alphonse had only seen once before.

"Oh, wow," he whispered. "Brother really needs to see this." Grinning down at Nesrah, he said, "Thank you. Thank you for showing me this. Now," he glanced toward the sky, "we really need to get off this mountain."

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