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Dark, cold nights were usually perfect conditions for Sarot and her to practice Alchemy. The streets around their training quarters were clear, the light gone, and the air held just enough moisture for an amateur to practice. It’d been a night like this when Sarot had first taken Alyx into his training, and taught her how to transmute simple things like wooden chairs and metal pipes. From there they grew, and Alyx began her specialty in liquids. She began to transmute things into ice at first, and cooled down a hot glass of water on hot days. Sarot taught her basics, showed her how to study, and eventually it was a game of figuring it out for herself.
The first time she transmuted something from the air surrounding her was a special event. She’d studied the weather patterns of her region and found that certain times of the year were more humid than others, therefore perfect conditions for practice. On a night like this she’d first managed to accumulate the moisture in the air to create a rain cloud. It was small, but it was a success, and she was damn sure she could create something bigger. Of course, this only furthered Sarot’s resolve that she was ready to come with him to central.
He’d told her about his state certification long before she was in training, and she’d always looked up to her uncle like this. Alyx never knew her parents well enough to care for them, but Sarot did tell her frequently about their alchemic research and how they’d worked for the military for a short term. She didn’t know much more beyond that, and she really wasn’t overly interested. They’d abandoned her and her brother, and as far as she was concerned they weren’t family.
Central, to her, meant the next step to state certification and the ability to support her small family. Central, to Sarot, meant the possibility to catching a murderer who’d been hanging around the city for a few months. This meant renewal for his state certification. Of course, this wasn’t common knowledge to Alyx until the night they were to make the attempt.
Her transmutation circles had been drawn on the insides of her arms, making them accessible in case the two bracelets made of leather and metal with the carving in them broke. It was a precaution, but this man was dangerous and Sarot had been careful in this process. If she needed a way out, she’d have it. Unlucky for her she didn’t necessarily need the way out, as she needed the back up plan for when theirs backfired.
The transmutation circle was in place on the ground, a largely complicated version of the simple one she’d used months ago to create her first rain cloud. It was perfect, everything was in place, but now was the hard part.
“Sarot,” Alyx said, her voice strong as she watched her superior hover on the roof top edge. “It’s nearly time.”
This killer was known for killing Military personnel, no matter the rank. If you wore the uniform, you were wearing your own death suit. He’d murdered too many members of the Amestris Military to be within reasoning with, and therefore the order was shoot to kill. Sarot clearly planned to do just that, and with complicated alchemy at that.
Without a word he turned and nodded to Alyx, straightening his Military uniform. She’d foregone it; she didn’t need to put herself in danger anymore than she already was. The game was on, and Sarot was the bait.
He made his way to the streets and took to walking a route they’d planned, seemingly a tired military officer on his way home from work. He took a left and a right, and then wound back on himself in a circle once he was sure he had a tail. When it was certain that someone was following him, Sarot would begin phase one.
From the moment Alyx saw the explosions three buildings over, she was sure it was time. She began the transmutation, electricity rolling through the tips of her fingers as she began to shift the composition of the air. Moisture, water, liquids, clouds, it all combined, and it all meant the same thing once it was formed. The transmutation would take longer this time, because she wasn’t creating a simple rain cloud. No, this was a fully-fledged storm.
The sounds of battle raged on behind her and she knew Sarot was close, bringing the battle to her and the trap. The clouds formed in great gusts and circles and rain began as it accumulated. The clouds grew darker, heavier, and friction began to react between the particles within the clouds. As nature would create, so should she, and before long thunder cracked above her head. Sarot made his appearance on the rooftop and yelled the command, but the transmutation wasn’t ready. He was bloodied, battered, and she could see the killer just behind him.
He wasn’t at all what she expected. He looked just like any other citizen of Amestris, except part of his chest was exposed and she could see a transmutation circle glowing beneath the thin, wet fabric. Sarot yelled again and she forced her concentration, ignoring the battle around her and focusing on the friction of the clouds. Any minute now, any minute now…
Suddenly, the entire building was shaking. She could hear the MP’s below them, calling for an explanation and claiming to have the building surrounded. It wasn’t them causing the quakes though, it was the killer. His deranged dark eyes were pinned on Sarot, and she watched as lightning began to flash above them. Through the storm she could see the killer stike a near fatal blow with a mass of rock ripped from the very foundation of the building. Sarot was down, and the storm was raging. She lifted her hands from the circle and yelled, standing to rush to his aid but Sarot was still alive, and he was screaming at her to run.
Alyx stopped, wet hair sticking to her cheeks, and gasped as the killer turned his gaze to her. His dark hair was flat from the rain, and blood ran down from a cut on his head. His hand gripped a long metal sword, and the other clenched into a fist through a gloved hand. For a moment there was a physical second where nothing happened, the peace before the storm, and then all hell broke loose.
Several large shards of metal were coming at her from the killer’s direction as she turned tail and ran to the fire escape. She felt something hit, cripple her, and she was on the ground at the very edge of the building. The storm still raged even without the encouragement of her transmutation circle, but it wouldn’t last. It was unnaturally created, and as soon as it had run its course it would die down. The rain washed blood across the floor as the killer stood over her teacher, her trainer, her uncle. He’d given up. She could see it in his body, the way he laid there without fighting to move the heavy rock pinning his arm, the way he turned his head to the side and refused to make eye contact. Sarot was giving up.
Alyx found herself screaming at him when the killer lifted his metal sword and swung down, making a clean cut right through Sarot’s uniform from the chest to the stomach. She watched through blurred eyes as he spasmed, choked, and laid still. Through this her world began to more in hyper motion, nothing sounded right and her instinct of fight or flight was strong. She leaned up over the edge, dragging her useless leg with her, and dropped. Alyx wouldn’t be able to tell you if she’d planned on falling into the trash can or not but it was the thing that saved her life near enough, but caused ever more damage to her leg.
It was the MP’s that found her and brought her in as a civilian to a hospital. They fixed her up aside from her leg, which had been so damaged from the blow of a metal shard to the back of her knee that it had to be removed. They gave her crutches and ordered her bed rest for at least three weeks. This gave her too much time to think. They didn’t know who she was, or what she’d been going in the building. For all they knew she could have been caught in the cross fire accidentally, having crawled out of the large bin and dragging herself onto the streets.
Her running away wasn’t just out of fear of being blamed for Sarot’s death. It was partial guilt. Guilt at being the one to watch him die, and do nothing but scream while it happened. That is why she left Central, took the train to another distant city and hitch hiked until she found Rush Valley. It was there that she begged an Automail engineer for his skills, and promised her services in return.
The time she’d had to think about the death of her trainer had left her with many scars, and the more she dwelled the harder she fell. It could eventually destroy her, and she wasn’t capable of bringing herself back up. Covault had put her to work once he knew the story, and his ever watchful eye had kept her from slipping into the abyss he could see her grasping the edge of. He kept her busy, and he kept her safe. It was the least he could do for her, in her situation.