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FMA fic- Live By The Rule

Title: Live By The Rule
Author/Artist: ebontane
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Characters: Scar
Rating: PG
Warnings: nondescriptive violence, very general spoilers for manga chapters 58-62 (still fits well with the animeverse)
Prompt: Ishvalan myth/storytelling
Additional Notes: All names blatantly taken from the Bible.

His life had been governed by the old stories. He would not have had it any other way. The stories of his faith were beautiful, and worthy.

The ancient Ishvalans faced the desert, and thus he learned the value of resilience.

Samuel suffered Ishvala’s wrath for his practice of alchemy, and he learned to heed the rules prohibiting alchemy.

Martha prayed for sleep to avoid the torture she suffered, while Caleb died from lack of sleep exacting his revenge, and he learned that revenge was worthless.

Josiah and his family were martyred when they travelled abroad, and he learned that keeping faith was the highest of virtues.

He learned these stories when he was very young, and they held great power for him. They brought him closer to his God. And when he was old enough, he decided to dedicate his life to that God. There was no higher purpose his life could have, to fight for those principles. Courage. Resilience. Peace. Faith.

Then the war came, and afterwards his life was still governed by stories.

Esther was killed while her children watched, by a State Alchemist who covered his body in metal, and he learned that State Alchemists had no mercy.

James’ whole family, wife, children, their spouses, grandchildren, all were trapped in an artificially created alleyway and massacred there, and he learned that he could not rely on even the familiar streets of his home.

A State Alchemist who burned men, women and children to death indiscriminately was called “the Hero of Ishval”, and he learned that there was no justice.

One of the State Alchemists was a demon who used his own soldiers to destroy Ishvalans, and smiled as he did so, and he learned that it was right to hate some people. Right to hate some things.

These were the stories that defined his life now. Stories of blood and pain and death. Hatred. War. The violence and injustice of what happened to his land, his people, his family, to him, could not pass unavenged.

His own story, he knew, was a powerful one. He had heard enough stories of self-sacrifice for a family member to know that no matter how many times they were heard, there was an honour to it. Someone had loved him enough to give up their life. Love. It was a pure emotion, which transcended life and death alike.

Yet he could not find it in him to live as his brother would have wanted him to. He saw only his brother’s bloody death and the violent insanity of his State Alchemist killer, and the needless violence of the entire war.

His life was governed by the new stories. They took him further from his God than he had ever wanted to be.


Thank you.
blue beetle

March 2008



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