ZaKai Stonewall (zakai_) wrote,
ZaKai Stonewall
zakai_

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Song of the Day + Oneshot

Title: Exile
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: G
Type: General, Oneshot
Pairings: None
Word Count: 708
Summary: Ed is sailing back to England after a trip to North America and is considering the next step in his search for a way to return home.

A/N:  Fic inspired by the song Exile by Enya.

 

 

Exile

 

 

Ed stood quietly in the chilly morning air staring up at the fading constellations.  The stars that had shone so brightly during the night and served as an ever present compass were now saying goodbye in an unceremonious fashion as the sky lightened to pastel pinks and purples.  The predawn illuminated the land seen in the not too far distance.  According to the captain, they would reach Liverpool today, much to the delight of everyone aboard.

 

Yet, Ed couldn’t help but have mixed feelings about this arrival.  His trip to the North American continent had proved almost unhelpful—not entirely, but all the really useful information he’d found could have been relayed in a ten minute phone call.  Unfortunately, as of yet, there was no way of calling someone on another continent.

 

He would have to face his father who would surely ask him if the eight month journey had been worth it.  Of course, Ed would say ‘yes’; saying ‘no’ would be like admitting defeat—or even admitting that his father had been right and Ed had been wrong.  That was... if his father was still in England at all.  He hadn’t received any letters from his father’s network in over two months, and it was a little worrisome.

 

With a sigh that came out as a puff of mist, Ed reached into his heavy brown overcoat and pulled out a folded piece of worn paper.  He’d folded it and unfolded it so many times that the creases were in serious danger of tearing.  Ed’s lips quirked slightly as he thought about how he could have fixed the paper so easily if he’d only had use of alchemy, but dismissed the thought quickly.  Wishing for what couldn’t be wouldn’t help him get home.  It would motivate him, push him to continue on, but it wouldn’t fix the paper in his hand.

 

For what could have been the hundredth or five hundredth time, Ed let his eyes scan the writing—notes in his own barely legible hand—then unconsciously touched the other pocket in his coat that held a letter of introduction to a young German making much progress in the field of rocketry.

 

It was his lead—the thing that made his trip worth it—the one thing he had to hold on to...  This business of rocketry wasn’t much to go on, but as long as Ed had something, that was enough.  He was used to searching; more often than not with nothing to go on.

 

Glancing up at the sky once more, Ed saw that the very last of the brightest of stars was winking its last ray of light for the morning, and let his mind dwell momentarily on rockets before thinking again about stars.  The stars seemed to be guiding him now on his lonely search just as they directed the travelers on the sea.  Perhaps it was all fitting...

 

On impulse, Ed reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope with his letter of introduction.  Scrawled across the front in neat cursive read, ‘Alfons Heiderich’.  Ed touched the name and smiled slightly.  Alfons...  The spelling of the name was different than his brother’s, but...  If Ed believed in such superstitious nonsense like fate and omens, he might believe that this was a sign.

 

Putting the envelope away, Ed folded his notes and returned them to his pocket as well before turning and giving his full attention to the sea and the land beyond.  In moments, the sun began to peak out over the horizon.  For many of the other passengers on this ship, this was the end of a long voyage; but, for Ed, this was only another stop in his seemingly unending journey to his family and to a home he’d been forced to leave. 

 

The new light of the morning reflected off the waves of the water and Ed’s eyes involuntarily squinted slightly.  Yet, despite that, Ed didn’t want to turn his gaze away.  His goal lay in that direction and it was beautiful to behold.  Again he put a hand to his pocket, then smiled confidently at the rising sun as he planned what he would do as soon as he reached landfall.


 
Tags: one shot, oneshot, song of the day, stories
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