THE ROAD WEST
The desert gave way to barrens, filling up with patches of grass the further the Black Swordsman traveled. His backpack of food saw them through, and Puck’s scouting kept the waterskins filled.
They were good waterskins, made of metal with cloth wrapping them. They kept the water cold, which was a luxury he’d never had before. Guts still didn’t know why the merchant had called them “Can’t Heens”, though. Whatever a Heen was, he didn’t miss it.
Soon enough there was no more sand, only parched dirt and scrubby grass. Then a few more trees, and the occasional small house. Fields too, with meager crops. This wasn’t great land, but people tried nonetheless.
More impressively, it was a land at peace. He had spent his entire life as a mercenary, and he knew the signs of war when he’d seen it. This place had none of them. It had been untouched for a long time, and it had a sleepy feeling to it.
There were no ghosts to trouble him at night. The land was quiet, and without sorrow.
I don’t know. I don’t know about this.
Guts mused to himself as Puck buzzed from one field to the next, testing and tasting the crops there under the unseeing eyes of their farmers.
I’ve had the brand for years. And damn few nights since then have been peaceful. But here…
There WERE spirits in this world. They were feeble, but they were here… Their presence at the ruins was proof enough.
The second day in the scrubland, a farmer let him ride on the back of his turnip-filled wagon for a ways. The old man talked his ear off, and Guts obliged by nodding in the right spots.
This is peaceful. But I know it won’t last.
…It won’t last, will it?
He shook his head, and the farmer stopped talking. Hastily, he waved his hand and said “Horsefly on my nose.”
“Ha, right! I didn’t think you was fool enough to think that…” Muttered the old man, as he continued. Guts tuned him out again.
What if it does last?
What if I’m stuck here?
Can I live here?
He looked out among the fields, at a fairly large farm, and children playing in the fields. At the grandfather dozing in the rocking chair, and the men and women hard at work, laughing at each other’s jokes as they brought in the harvest.
He tried to picture himself in the rocking chair. It didn’t work.
But then, another figure intruded into the picture, and he nodded.
If she’s with me, maybe I can. But still…
While the wagon stopped and the old man headed into the fields to take a leak, Guts drew his sword, and studied it for a long moment.
This is all I know. This is all I’m good at.
And even if I do give this up… HE’s still out there. A white-haired, smiling young man danced through his mind, and he clenched his teeth against the pain. Griffith…
The pain gave way to rage, and the horses stamped nervously as the wind stilled. Guts felt his heart pound within his chest, and he forced his face back to calm as the farmer finished up, and made his way back to the wagon.
I can not forgive him!
He replaced the sword, and he watched the farm recede, the happy families working it vanishing in the distance.
No. I can’t stop. Not even for this.
But…
The old man had fallen asleep minutes ago, but the wagon was still going down the road. The horses pulling it knew the way, and they knew to stop when they got there.
What if there’s no way back?
He wondered. The Skull Knight had used Behelits to send him through. And there were no Behelits here.
Wait. That’s not true.
He reached into his pouch, and dug out the stone. It was cool to the touch and lumpy, with misshapen features of a humanlike face. Puck yelped and ducked behind his neck. “What are you doing?”
Guts didn’t answer. He watched the stone for movement, sometimes Behelits would wink their eyes, or breath slightly… Nothing.
Could this send me back? I don’t know how to use it. I don’t know if I should try. He remembered hell, and shuddered.
He tucked it away, and Puck returned to his usual perch.
It doesn’t matter. I have to find her, first. After that…
After that, we’ll see.
That settled, he watched as the wagon pulled up to a sleepy little town. Good.
“Hey, old man?”
The old man yawned his way awake. “What’s on yer mind, sonny?”
“You know anyone who can read?”
The old man gave him a weird look. “Damn near everyone in the town.”
Guts raised an eyebrow. Huh. So this is a town full of nobles and monks?
“Why d’ya ask? Got a sweetheart you want to write to?”
“Huh? No. Ran into somebody who gave me directions a while back, and I can’t make anything of it.”
“Well, hand it over. I’ll see what I can make of it.” This old guy doesn’t look much like a priest, and not anything like a noble. Not at all…He handed the note over, and watched him carefully.
The old man squinted at it. “Oh, Resembool! That’s what yer lookin’ for, Resembool. Well, that’s not too hard. You jes’ hop the train, go down three stops, an’ then it’s easy. Just ask around for the Rockbell res’dence, someone’ll point you in the raht direction.”
The old man handed the note back. “Hop the train?”
“A-yep. Station’s raht over there.” He gestured at a building, with two long metal poles next to it. The poles had wooden planks in the middle of them, and went as far as Guts’ eye could see, from one horizon to the other. The building had crates and benches next to it, and people waiting and watching the distant horizon.
Oh, a wagon train. Easy enough. What are those poles are doing there, though?
“Thanks.” He gathered his crutch, and stumped away from the wagon.
“Not a problem, son. Be safe!” And the old man parked his wagon, and headed into one of the buildings.
Guts sat among the waiting travelers, on an empty bench. The afternoon faded as the sun set, and Puck buzzed over to watch the other people, and check out the town. Guts was just getting ready to doze off when Puck came screaming through the town, to slam into his chest!
“WAKE UP! THERE’S A DRAGON COMING!”
“What?” Guts barked, and half the people on the platform looked at him funny. He didn’t care at the minute, and was already standing up. “Where?”
Puck pointed, at a thin column of smoke approaching from the distance.
Guts hobbled over to the outskirts of town, and watched it approach… Damn! So close to getting that leg… Can I fight something like a dragon like I am now? Guess I’ll find out.
He could see it now, a long serpent with a single eye glaring in the twilight. It was curving as it went, and Guts’ eye grew wide. That thing’s at least a hundred feet long…
For a second, he hesitated.
It’s coming straight for the town.
That decided it. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword, and readied himself. I’ll have time for one good hit. That will have to finish it…
“Hey, the train’s early!” A cheerful voice sounded from the platform, and Guts looked back to see a few people at the building smiling, and gathering their bags.
Guts whipped his head back to the dragon. Didn’t they see it? Didn’t they…
“Excuse me, are you going to need help getting up the steps?” A smiling girl asked him, as she moved past him to the platform.
He took his hand off his sword, and a drop of sweat rolled off of his cheek. “Uh…”
THE NEXT DAY
He swallowed his pride as the conductor helped him down the steps, and shook his head. His rump was still hurting from the small, hard wooden seats and the continual vibration the train had made as it sped along the tracks.
He hadn’t been able to sleep on that thing, and he was amazed that the other passengers could.
The young woman had been helpful in explaining concepts like “Trains”, and “Tracks”, and “Tickets”. This was her stop too, and she was arguing with a “Conductor” over a few small crates.
Guts took the opportunity to ask the ticket-seller the way to the Rockbell Residence, and sure enough, the way sounded simple. Half an hour later, he was standing in front of a two-story house, with a dog barking at him from the yard.
The dog had a metal leg. Puck laughed. “You’re in luck, Guts! They’ll give new legs to any old stray…”
The dog whined, and cowered when Puck spoke. The little elf chased him around the yard, as it fled in fear, yelping.
Guts was about to step in and end the game, when the door to the house flew open.
“What’s wrong boy, you catch a porcupine again?”
It was the smallest little old lady that he’d seen in his life.
“Oh!” She fiddled with her spectacles, and studied him. “Hm…”
Puck gave off chasing the dog, who promptly hid underneath the porch.
“Hi.” He stumped forward, and she looked up, and up as he approached. And at the note in his hand.
She took it, and read it over, then looked back at him, her face solemn. “You’d better come in.”
“All right…” He carefully drew his sword after she’d gone inside, and jammed it into the ground. That done, he followed her inside. Don’t think I’ll need it here, and it’s hard as hell sitting on the thing.
The inside of the house had a lived-in feel. It was… Comfortable.
The old lady served him tea, and pulled out a pair of calipers. “All right, roll up your trouser leg.”
“We haven’t even talked about payment.”
“Don’t worry about payment.”
“….” Just what DID that kid write to her?
He obliged, revealing the clean stump of his leg. It had scabbed over neatly a week ago, but still gave off flashes of pain depending on how he shifted his weight.
He stopped, as he heard a teacup crash to the floor, and looked over. The old woman had dropped her tea, and was staring at his leg, with her lips set tight in anger.
“So.” She said, her voice cold. “What did you give up in exchange for that missing leg? W hat did you promise them?”
“What?”
“I know those scars well. They’re what happens when an alchemist goes into forbidden territory. You tried to bring someone back, from the other side.”
Other side? Did she know about… “What do you know about the other side?”
“That no one, no matter what, should come back from death. And that while I can forgive a child for missing his mother and being naïve, I can’t forgive a grown man for that sin. Get out of my house.”
There was a gasp from behind him, and he turned his head. It was the girl from the train station, wearing a bandana on her head, and carrying a pair of crates. She was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide.
Staring at Guts’ scars, on the revealed leg.
“Winry, get upstairs.” Said the old woman.
“What’s going on here, grandma?”
“None of your concern.”
“WHAT? Look, I live here too! The least you could do is tell me why you’re about to take a wrench to this guy!”
Guts chuckled grimly, and rolled his leg up. “Sorry to waste your time.” And mine. “I don’t know what I was expecting.”
“Get out. Winry, stand clear.” The old woman had her arms folded, and glared at him, as he limped to the door.
Winry stood clear, and watched him go. As he hit the bottom of the steps, he looked around.
“It’s not death. The other side, I mean.”
“Out.” And the door slammed behind him.
Puck floated free, as he made his way down the road. “Well, that didn’t go so good.”
Guts shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does! Without a leg, how can… I mean… Even you…”
“I’ll get by. And we’ll find her. That’s what matters.”
“I guess so…” Puck fluttered down to his shoulder, after Guts retrieved and tucked away his sword. “I just wish I knew what was going on. It seems like people hate you for stuff I don’t understand.”
Guts shrugged. “I don’t care.”
But his face was solemn, as he started back down the long road.
Maybe if I say that enough, I’ll start to believe it…
TEN MINUTES LATER
“Hey, wait. WAIT!” He stopped, and turned around. The girl was back, her bandanna keeping her blonde hair from fluttering, as she jogged up to him.
“Yeah?”
“What did you mean, by… The other side?”
He closed his eye, and shrugged. “I think it’s where I came from.”
“Came from?”
“Yeah. And to get here, I had to give something up.” He gestured at his leg.
The girl studied his face for a long time. Finally, she nodded. “You’re not even an alchemist, are you? You’re telling the truth with this?”
“I don’t know anything about alchemy. And it’s the truth.”
“All right. Then come on back.”
Guts shook his head. “I just got kicked out.”
“I had a talk with grandma. I think she misjudged you. She doesn’t like it, but she said that she won’t stop me, if I want to help you.”
Guts looked down at her, as Puck cheered and did a victory dance on his head.
“Why?”
“Miss a chance to experiment with new automail? Like Hell!” And suddenly, her friendly face was transformed as she rubbed her hands together and studied his leg with a grin, already planning the first steps. “Of course, you’re a bit larger than most I’ve tried before so we’ll have to put in extra lumbar pistons, and the gearage will be at least a number four, not to mention the drive train for ankle movement will need reinforcing…”
“Ah…”
“Come on! What are you standing out here for? Time’s wasting!”
Guts let himself be dragged along, with Puck laughing and giggling, unseen on the back of his cloak.
What have I gotten myself into? He thought, as the door to the Rockbell House shut behind him…