Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Almost whole again
The Iron Sole Alchemist (Chapter 3) Almost whole again.
by Howlin
(Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to this universe, places, or characters, and only claim the protagonist as my own creation. This is fan fiction, and I don't profit from it. Please don't sue me.)
. . .
When I arrived in Rush Valley, I was struck by how much more inviting and familiar it felt than Aquroya had. While not exactly a desert town, situated between two cliffs, it was arid enough to remind me of Liore.
As I walked the dry, hard packed dirt roads, merchants kept singling me out of the crowd, addressing me directly. It wasn't so surprising. A one legged man would have only one reason to come to a city who's economy was based on artificial prosthetics. Still, this wasn't the sort of decision you make on an impulse buy or because of a high pressure sales pitch. I was determined to shop around and find the best mechanic in town. After all, this leg would be with me until I figured out human transmutation, and odds were that could take quite a while.
I had traveled some distance before I came to an unpleasant realization. I knew nothing about automail, and honestly wouldn't know a master work from a piece of salvaged scrap. Every salesman was quick to call their automail the best, but as they went over components and features I was lost.
Liore was a backward town in more ways than one. We had no alchemists, and we had no automail engineers. If it weren't for the Fullmetal Alchemist and the doctor from Aquroya, I wouldn't even have known it was possible to replace human limbs with machines.
As I was reflecting on this, I bumped into a much larger man. He was part of a big crowd and didn't seem to notice being jostled. Cheers and taunts were coming from the tightly packed audience, and I decided to have a closer look. Squeezing through the crows wasn't easy on crutches, but somehow I made it.
What I found at the center was an arm wrestling competition, though of a different sort than I'd ever seen. All of the contestants were using mechanical arms, testing not one's physical training or condition, but perhaps one's judgement in choosing a mechanic. A large pile of broken tables stood as a testament to the superhuman strength the contestants possessed.
I was overjoyed at having, finally, a way of getting a feel for what makes good automail, and I began to watch. The champion who was accepting challengers was a massive figure with two automail arms that resembled nothing so much as artillery pieces. As excited as I was to see this contest, when I watched the first match my spirits fell.
A man with a more human proportioned, but still large automail arm challenged the champion. The men locked hands and began to struggle. I saw the announcer reach under the table. A faint yellow light was momentarily visible under the table a split second before the champ slammed his challenger through the table.
It was alchemy. They were using it to fix the contest. While this continued I'd get no meaningful comparisons. So I decided to intervene, subtly. The next challenger was an attractive, dark skinned girl. The crowd jeered as she sat down and locked arms with the champ. The girl's automail was slender and the difference in scale was such that her entire hand ended up holding just one of the champ's fingers. By contrast, half her forearm disappeared within the champ's grip.
This was an obvious mismatch, obvious even to me, but I'd resolved to see a fair contest and despite my view of her chances, I followed through on my original plan. When I saw the announcer reach under the table, I made my move. Lifting myself on my crutches, I stomped my foot down, activating my transmutation circle. A could of dirt flew up under the table and, directed by my alchemy, coated the bottom of the table with a thin layer of ceramic, altering the table's composition slightly and obscuring any array on the table's underside. With the crowd focused on the action above the table, I don't think anyone noticed the faint violet glow of my minor transmutation.
What happened net completely blew my mind. The champ's better grip gave him an initial advantage, but soon, the girl was pushing him back. A look of panic passed from the champ to the announcer, who rolled his eyes. After a momentary pause, however, the announcer looked as concerned as the champ. No doubt he'd tried to activate the array obligerated by my transmutation.
Impossible as it had seemed when she sat down, this young girl crossed a critical point in the contest and the champ was plowed through the table, shattering it like so many before. On the ground, the champ exchanged helpless, confused looks with the announcer as the girl gathered up the prize money.
. . .
"Excuse me. Miss. Please, wait up."
She hadn't been walking very fast, but with me on one leg, it didn't take much to outpace me. The girl had left immediately after collecting her prize money. By the time I'd fought my way out of the crowd, she was turning a corner. I'd only just managed to get close enough to call out to her.
She paused and glanced back at me, a confused look on her face. "Hello?"
"Hello," I said as I hurried to catch up. "I saw you match. You were unbelievable."
For a moment she looked very far away as she said, "Thanks."
"I was hoping you could recommend a mechanic. Obviously whoever made your automail is good with arms, but I'm looking for someone who's talented with legs. Do you know anyone like that?"
A mischievous grin formed on her lips, and she said, "I might know someone like that." Then she crouched down a bit, and before I knew what was happening, she was landing on a second story rooftop at the end of an inhuman leap.
"Amazing," I marveled, and again came that far away pride from her. As impressive as her demonstration had been, what had me truly stunned was the fact that I hadn't even noticed that her legs were fake. All of her automail was so perfectly proportioned that I'd never know it was an addition to her body without seeing it up close. It was a far cry from the overstated style the champ had displayed, and I knew right then that I needed to commission her mechanic.
. . .
The girl, Paninya I learned was her name, guided me to the unlikelist of places. At the very end of a dark alley was a dirty looking shop. As questionable as the outside looped, if anything, the interior made me less sure of my decision. A single, dim lightbulb hung overhead, and the shop's location meant natural sunlight wasn't going to be much help. The poor lighting, the cracked paint on the walls, and the grey monotone color scheme all conspired to make the place seem dingy and decrepit.
Indeed, were it not for the numerous pieces of automail arranged and displayed, I might have assumed this place long abandoned.
"Hey, Dominik," Paninya called out, "We've got a customer."
Paninya headed into the back to find Dominik. Meanwhile, I started looking over the legs that were arranged around the shop. As I ran my hand over the thigh of a particular piece, part of the side-panel popped open, startling me. Taking a closer loop, I managed to determine that this was a concealed pistol holster, built right into the leg.
"Cool," I said to myself.
"That piece isn't for you," came a gruff voice from behind me. I turned and saw an older man with short, grey hair and a stern face looking down at me.
"I'm sorry, it's just-" I began.
"That leg's for a fighter," he said as he walked past me, dropped to one knee, and started examining the mechanism. "A kid like you, you'll probably never be in a real fight. Not like the kind you'd need something like this for."
As he spoke, my mind flashed back to the things I'd seen. The screams of the dying soldiers as the alchemic explosion tore them appart. The gun shots that were fired into Scar. The slowly pooling blood from the first chimera I'd killed, and the red mist that used to be the head of the second.
When Dominik turned around, he paused, looking into my eyes, and though I knew he couldn't see those horrors reflected, he could clearly perceive their resonance. Softening his gaze, he placed a strong hand on my shoulder.
"Let's head into the back and get you sized."
. . .
"Girl," called Dominik curtly as he led me into a room where a blonde young woman waring lose fitting coveralls and sporting numerous ear piercings sat. At Domink's word, she sprung to her feet and stuffed a piece of paper she'd been reading into a random pocket.
"Take his measurements and handle the explanations. I'll get started on the assembly." With that, Dominik continued on, and hte girl sighed in relief and relaxed."
"Hi, I'm Winry," she said with an introductory bow. "Looks like we're replacing that leg, right?"
"Right."
"Okay, let's get started, then. Take off your pants."
"Huh?"
"Well, I can't take precision measurements without being able to see what I'm measuring. Now, don't be shy."
I complied and Winry began using a tape measure on every major dimension of my lower body.
"Now, I'm guessing you haven't been fitted with automail before. Am I right?"
"That's right."
"Hm, the amputation was clean and surgical. That's good. I've seen a lot worse."
"Originally it was just my foot, but it got infected before I could get to a doctor."
"I see. It's well healed, so I take it you took your sweet time coming out here. Had second thoughts?"
"No. I was delayed. Why would I have second thoughts?"
"You don't know? Automail is the best option in terms of limb replacement because it's connected right into your nervous system, allowing you to control it just like you did with your original limb. As a result, however, the process of connecting the new leg will be very painful."
"I didn't know that. I don't think it changes anything, though."
"I understand. You're all set. It'll take us about a day to assemble your new leg."
"Wait. What about all those limbs out front?" I asked as I put my pants back on.
"Trust me. You don't want any of those. They're display models to show off the craftsman's capabilities. The piece that's going to become your leg, you'll want it custom manufactured for your body."
I couldn't argue with that logic. It was part of the reason I chose this place. I would certainly rather wait a while for a leg that was perfect for me than end up stuck with something that felt out of proportion and foreign. Still, I couldn't help but feel disappointed.
"I guess I'm on crutches until then."
Winry smirked. "Have a little faith," she replied. "Your real leg won't be done today, but we can still give you a loaner until then."
. . .
The leg I was to use wasn't as high quality as actual automail. I could stand on it, and walk slowly, but that was about it. Still, I was so elated to be off crutches that I hardly cared.
I was in the mood to explore, so I asked Paninya to show me around while Dominik and Winry were working. I figured she'd know the city pretty well. And while we were out, I could see about finding an inn.
Paninya led me along a path partway up one side of the cliffs that bordered and overlooked Rush Valley. The buildings in this part of town were built into the cliff face itself. The day was coming to an end, and Paninya stopped me and pointed out across the town. As I looked out, the sun began to set. The sky was awash with purples and oranges.
"It's beautiful," I whispered.
"It gets better," replied Paninya.
She was right. As the sun sang lower, the lights of the city below began to come on, bathing the surrounding cliffs in a soft, yellow glow. For a brief instant, the stars above, the lights of the sky below, and the last colorful bands of the setting sun all came together in a single, scenic view.
The magic of that moment passed, and the night had fully come. Paninya led the way toward a nearby hotel. We parted ways, I rented a room, and got some sleep.
. . .
When I arrived at Domink's shop, I was nervous, trying to imagine what the experience would be like. Winry had warned me that the process would be painful.
"Ah, you're here!" called Paninya as I walked in.
"Hi," I replied. "Are they ready for me yet?"
"Yep. Come with me and we'll gt you all set up."
Paninya led me into the back, where Dominik and Winry were sitting on an old, green couch.
Winry sprang to her feet. "So, you all set to trade in that loaner for the real deal?"
"I think so."
"Great, have a seat, and don't be nervous."
Winry led me to the couch, and quickly removed the crude prosthetic they'd given me. Meanwhile, Domninik stepped into the other room and retrieved his tools. That was when I got my first glance at my new leg.
I was surprised at the detail and level of articulation. Anatomical details one hardly notices in day to day life were all there, reproduced with loving accuracy, right down to the joints of the toes.
Winry and Paninya stood on either side of me as Dominik started his work. The first part was harmless enough, last minute measuring, fitting, and double checking how extensive the damage to my leg was. once he was done with the preliminary work, Winry and Paninya took hold of my arms.
"Here comes the hard part," Winry began. "In order for this to work, we have to connect your automail to every one of your nerves. There isn't any kind of anesthetic we can give you that'll make this process any easier. Are you ready?"
I blanched a little, swallowed hard, and nodded my assent. A small stab of pain came as a scalpel cut into the flesh that had grown over the stump of my leg. Then came the real pain.
Dominik took hold of the first nerve and suddenly it was as though my missing leg was back and on fire. As Dominik continued to work, the pain grew more intense and more complete. I could hear myself screaming and Winry and Paninya were calling out to me that it'd be over soon. I couldn't feel them holding down my thrashing arms. I couldn't feel my screaming lungs. All I could feel was the pain in my nonexistent leg. It was like needles were driven straight through every inch of missing flesh, each coated in alcohol and salt, and lit on fire. If this pain had been from a normal source, my nerves would have been destroyed already and hte pain would have stopped. If this had been normal pain, my brain would have shut down and the pain would have been limited in how intense it could become. But this wasn't normal pain.
I lost all sense of time amid the pain. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the pain began to fade. As the intensity of the burning pain in my right leg diminished, I became aware of the rest of my body again. I was lying on my back on Dominik's couch. A cold, damp cloth was resting on my forehead. I became aware of a soreness in all the muscles of my body, and looked around the room with the red spots starting to clear from my vision.
"Ow," I croaked and noticed that my throat was sore.
"Don't worry," said Paninya who was standing over me. "The pain goes away pretty quick. You'll be feeling better than you did before in an hour or so." To accentuate her point, Paninya held up her automail hand and clenched a fist.
"I guess you would know," I replied. "Is it safe for me to move, or will that screw something up at this point?"
"You're not going to hurt anything. Dominik's stuff doesn't just fall apart you now. You'd have to try pretty hard to mess up that leg of yours."
"Okay," I said and started to try sitting up. My body felt too weak, and I couldn't manage to pull myself up.
"You wore yourself out pretty bad when Dominik was attaching your leg. Winry and I had a time of it trying to hold you still."
"Sorry," I said, feeling embarrassed at the loss of self-control.
"Hey, hey. Don't worry about it. Everyone responds that way to attaching automail."
"Oh," said Winry as she walked into the room, "you're awake."
"Yeah," I managed weakly as I again tried to pull myself up from my lying position. This time Paninya took hold of my shoulder hand helped me partway to a sitting position.
"The pain in your leg'll go away faster if you try to move it," Paninya offered.
Looking down at my new automail leg, the steel catching the light of the small lightbulb in the room, I trued to move my toes. It was effortless. In stark contrast to my exhausted body, the automail responded immediately and without protest. Indeed, as I explored the range of movement in my new leg, I felt better rather than worse.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" asked Paninya.
"Your nervous system's acclimating itself to the automail," explained Winry. "The residual pain is kind of like an afterimage. When you give the nerves something to else to do, they start to figure out they've got other jobs and stop sending pain."
I tentatively began running my hand over the lg, feeling the smooth metal that was here replacing my flesh. Suddenly, unexpectedly, a panel opened on the thigh, and I recognized the mechanism as the same concealed holster I'd seen yesterday.
"Cool feature," said Paninya getting a closer look.
"Yeah," I agreed, a little confused that Dominik had gone with this model leg after saying I didn't need it.
"He's always doing that!" exclaimed an exasperated Winry. "Always building in extras. What's wrong with automail that just does what the limb it's replacing did but better?"
"I-" I started to reply before Paninya jumped in.
"It's just Domink's style, Winry. Besides, you can't argue with quality."
"I guess," replied Winry, unconvinced. I got the impression they'd had this argument before.
. . .
Paninya was right about the recovery time, and I was on my feet within an hour, feeling the best I'd felt in weeks. Hopping up and down to test out my new limb, I felt almost whole for the first time since I encountered the chimera in Liore.
"I don't think that's gonna work," said Winry as I sat down and reached for my pants. I looked at them a moment before I realized what she was talking about.
"Oh," I said, holding up the closed up nub of the right pant leg. "Looks like you're right. Can you get me a pen?"
"A pen?" asked Paninya. "Wouldn't a pair of scissors be a better choice?"
I winked at her. "Nah, trust me on this one."
Paninya gave me a funny look for a moment, then shrugged and retrieved a pen for me. Taking the pen, I sketched a quick array on the fabric and activated it. A faint violet glow enveloped the garment, and the fibers around the closed right leg unwove themselves, snaking out as if animated by my alchemy. In a flash, the fabric rewove itself and I was holding a normal pair of pants.
"You're an alchemist," Winry noted with a smile.
"That's right," I replied as I pulled on my freshly transmuted pants. "Hm. Still down to one shoe though. Guess I'll need to pick up a new one."
"Why?" asked Paninya as she poked my pant leg. "If you can do that, why not just make a new shoe with alchemy?"
"Equivalent exchange," responded Winry before I could, drawing looks from both Paninya and myself.
"That's right," I said. "Have you studied alchemy?"
"No. I just grew up with a pair of pint sized alchemists. A thing or two rubs off."
"That's nice," interjected Paninya, "but I still don't know what that means."
"'Humankind cannot gain anything,'" I quoted, "'without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law of equivalent exchange.' Basically it means you can't make something from nothing. I could rearrange the fibers in those pants easily, but I can't gain or lose material in the process."
"Okay. That makes sense I guess."
"Good, now I've got a question. I was wandering this city for a while. I saw dozens of places to get new feet, but not one place for shoes."
. . .
"Feel better?" asked Paninya as we were walking out of the shoe store.
"Almost," I replied, drawing an array on a notepad. I pressed the paper against the bottom of each of my new boots in turn and used alchemy to transfer the array onto the heavy soles. "There, perfect."
I pocketed the notepad as Paninya and I rounded a corner.
"There she is! That's the girl who cheated us out of our prize money!"
It was the men from the arm wrestling contest.
"You lost fair and square," replied Paninya. "You're just a sore loser who couldn't handle losing to a girl."
"Don't play dumb with me, girly," interjected the smaller man who had played the part of referee. "You tampered with the table using alchemy."
"Alchemy?" said Paninya as she turned hurt eyes my direction.
"You were the ones using alchemy to cheat!" I shot back. "All I did was obliterate your array.
"So it wasn't a fair contest from the start?" said Paninya almost in tears. I placed my hands on her shoulders and turned her to face me.
"You were the first person after I stopped them cheating."
"Well, this really is touching," began the big guy. "Now that we've settled that, we'll just be taking our money and be on our way."
Fire flashed in Paninya's eyes through the tears. "This is all your fault to begin with!" She stepped past me toward the big guy, dropped to one knee, pulled up her pant leg, and launched a missile from her knee." Panicked, the big guy held up his massive automail arms in front of him as a shield before disappearing in a cloud of dust thrown up by the explosion.
The smaller man and I both just stared in shock for a moment. Paninya chuckled to herself.
Then, a massive hand reached out of the dust cloud and grabbed Paninya's leg. The big guy's right arm was hanging limp at his side, obviously having taken the brunt of the blast. With his left arm, he lifted Paninya off her feet upside down.
"Paninya!" I exclaimed and began to rush forward.
"Not so fast," said the smaller man as he stepped in my way. "You didn't forget about me, did you?" he asked as he produced an embroidered handkerchief from a pocket.
The larger man swung Paninya over his head. The smaller man slapped his handkerchief on the ground, causing stone spikes to erupt from the ground accompanied by yellow arcs of energy.
As the spikes erupted from the ground in a trail toward me, I raised a foot, and stomped on the ground. Purple energy shot out from the impact point, stopping further spikes from erupting, and breaking all the spikes off from their bases.
Paninya slammed into the ground, but she managed to get her free automail limbs below her, cushioning the impact and taking control of her situation.
Spinning on the foot that I'd just used to transmute, I launched a kick at one of the broken spikes that were suspended in the air by my alchemy.
Bracing herself on the ground with her automail arm, Paninya launched a kick with her free leg, smashing through the mechanisms of her opponent's hand.
My opponent ducked just below the spike I alchemically launched at him. I advanced, kicking a spike toward him with every step.
Paninya's leg was released, and she sprung to her feet. The big guy's left arm was damaged by her kick, but he managed to form a fist. Bracing her stance, Paninya prepared to meet his punch with her own, matching brute force with brute force.
The smaller man was barely a step ahead of my birage, narrowly dodging each spike launched. All the while, I closed the distance between us.
Two steel fists met, with the sound of crumpling metal. Paninya's fist was embedded up to her elbow in the ruined automail limb of her opponent. The small man side stepped one last spike, and dodged right in to my left foot, which impacted heavily on the side of his face. his limp form flew backward five feet before coming to a rest at the feet of his larger companion.
With both his arms rendered so much scrap, and his companion lying unconscious at his feet, the large man dropped to his knees and hung his head.
. . .
Paninya was there to see me off as I boarded the train for Central.
"You know as great as this automail is, I do have one complaint," I said as I lifted myself on to the steps.
"Oh?" asked Paninya.
"As rugged as this leg is, it'll be tough to use coming in for maintenance as an excuse to visit."
Paninya smiled faintly.
"Are you still down about that context?" I asked.
"I wanted to show everyone Domink's automail was the best. Beating those cheaters didn't prove anything."
"I was pretty impressed with the fight afterwards, myself, but if it bothers you that much, I have an idea."
"Oh?"
"You're the champ now, however you got the title. Why not just hold your own context? A fair one this time."
Paninya's smile returned in full, just as the train started moving.
"I will!" she called after me. "Next time you come by, you'll be visiting the real Rush Valley automail arm wrestling champion!"
. . .
Author's comments:
I hope everyone's enjoyed this third chapter, which, incidentally, concludes our protagonist's time playing in the shallow end of the pond. Now we're full speed ahead to Central, with its layered conspiracies, closely guarded secrets, and endless opportunities for learning and adventure. But I won't tease too much, since I have no idea how long it'll be before I can get the next chapter written.
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