A/N: Gaah sorry about such a long wait, guys! I honestly was stuck on what to write next, but then I thought of this, so here it is. Please review!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It hadn't always been a boarded up and weathered old building, but at one time a grand mansion. The sun still reflection on the clear glass of the windows, shattered as they were, and cast spots of gold upon the grand yet worn floors within. A yard abundant with weeds and scratched relentlessly by over grown tree roots had at least a shadow of its former beauty. A single purple flower grew among the mass and shone like a star amidst darkness. Next to the cellar doors with their paint chipping away from the many rains they'd endured, a small wagon sat. Once red in color, it now lay still and rusted brown with disuse. Clearly, this house had stood empty for over a hundred years.

To the man who stood before it, none of this was revealed to him. He saw only the former grandeur and smelled the aroma of flowers from its garden. The laugh of a child was all he heard over the creaks and moans of the old structure. Tears began to fall from his eyes as he watched the ghost of a golden-haired boy run across the yard to his shiny red wagon. There was brightness on his fair face as he placed a small dog into the wagon and pulled it around like a chariot. The puppy yapped a faint echo while the ghosts of the boy's parents looked on, their expressions nothing short of loving. Wind blew these images away and gently ruffled the man's hair. The moment was gone. He bowed his head and brought a hand to his eyes to suppress the never ending tears.

A train whistle blew, signaling to the three travelers that it was time to go. Hohenheim, Dante, and Anthony snatched up their bags and hastily made their way to it. Dante pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket as they ran.

"Have we packed everything?" she breathed.

"I believe so. You did pick up the groceries on the list, right Anthony?" Hohenheim asked his companion.

"Yes. And you remembered to pack all your books, correct?" was the response.

"Right. Anything else you can think of, Dante?"

"No. If I am not mistaken, we are all ready to leave." Nothing more was spoken as they approached their train. Hohenheim wordlessly handed over their tickets to the square-jawed man waiting at the door. He took them without question and stepped aside so that they could get on board. They made their way down the car and chose a compartment at the very end for their own. It wasn't until they were seated with their luggage tucked safely into the upper storage space and the train was going at a good pace that they all let out sighs of relief.

"I cannot believe that I am finally leaving that place," murmured Hohenheim, watching his former home town become nothing but a small speck behind him.

"You really wanted an escape from there," said Anthony, looking hard at his rival.

"Yes. I lived long enough in that hell. I am happy to have it behind me and the whole world ahead at last."

Dante smiled and put her hand over his. "We can finally be free to live our lives, Hohenheim," she said, her voice full of restrained excitement. He returned the smile and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Anthony looked away pointedly. It was clear who was not going to enjoy the trip.

"I remember when we first met, you told me how you had always been a prisoner in your own home," said Hohenheim, ignoring Anthony though quite aware of his annoyance and enjoying it. "I am happy that you are finally free along with me."

"There is the matter of what must happen when we arrive in Risembool," the other young man interjected, interrupting their moment. "Houses are quite hard to come by, so we must find some sort of place to-" He was interrupted by a book being thrown hard into his lap. After a short gasp of surprise, he looked over angrily at Hohenheim. "I beg your pardon!"

"Start studying," was the cool reply. Hohenheim held up his own book and Dante followed suit with hers.

"I am afraid I do not follow you."

"We can come up with the supplies enough easy enough," Dante explained "and through alchemy, we will be able to build it in a matter of minutes. Therefore, on the way to Risembool we should all be studying on how to do this."

"That book has some good tips in it on how to create structures," said Hohenheim, nodding at the book in Anthony's lap. The young man narrowed his eyes, but picked up the book and began to pour over it. Hours passed, and all that could be heard in the compartment was the flipping of pages and the rattling of the train's wheels on the tracks. Occasionally, Dante and Hohenheim would look up at each other and smile, but they had to do this warily so as not to raise the chagrin of Anthony. The fact that Dante would look at him and not Anthony made Hohenheim's heart soar with pride though he would not gloat. After all, they still needed him and his information if they were to get any where with their goal.

The Philosopher's Stone, he thought, flipping a page of the book without really thinking about it. If we could just find a way to make it…maybe without having to use human lives then the possibilities are endless. Nature may forbid it, but I am willing to go so far as to defy nature. He looked over at Dante. She too looked up and their eyes locked. We will both make it, and whatever hardships come with it, we will bear the burdens together. As though she were thinking the same things, Dante nodded. Smiling, he returned his gaze to the book. And I will marry her…

Meanwhile, back at the old warehouse in the town they had just put behind them, Dimitri was pacing back and fourth in his office. Letters and notes adorned the walls and random things such as empty bullet shells and old bottles once containing liquor were scattered about the floor. A painting hung on the wall of a man and woman, two young men, and a little girl sitting on her father's knee. Occasionally, he would stop and look at this painting, perhaps to tap the face of on of the boys or bring his finger gently across the face of the child. All the while one thought raced through his mind. They've left…they've left…

"S-sir?" a man outside the door question timidly.

His pacing came to a halt. "What do you want, Adolfo?" he spat.

"We-we have a request to capture the little girl…you know the one…the sister of the b-"

"I know which little girl! For the last time, no! She is of no use to us at the moment, so tell those damn bastards to wait!" He had been putting it off. The capture of the little girl, that is. True, she would be of great use to them if they wanted to lure the boy out for questioning. However, he seriously doubted that the boy had anything useful to them. Still, there was the slight chance he had overheard them talking about where they were headed…His hand went once again to the painting and he touched the face of the little girl. "Looks like I'll have to break even more promises, won't I?" he muttered. The door slammed behind him as he bolted out of the room.

The last rays of the sleepy sun peaked through the blinds and cast light on the portrait. Their faces were all shone in the red gold light, especially the child's. One face that remained in the shadows was the young man on the right, whose expression was unreadable.

A/N: Ok, that's enough for now, it's 12:50 AM, g'night folks!