The Empath Alchemist {Edward Elric X Reader}

41

On the third of the five days creeping toward the Promised Day, Olivier Armstrong arrived in Central City.

The moment the blonde stepped off of the train and landed onto the solid concrete of the station floor, she detected the subtle hum of disarray the city reeked.

God, she hated this city. She hated the way it smelled, the way it looked, the way the sun beat down onto the hundreds of heads of bustling strangers rushing down the cobblestone streets to get to nowhere. She hated the sheer lack of white that powdered the ground, the lack of grit, the lack of control that this city seemed to have, despite its home to Fuhrer King Bradley. Even the thought of him now seemed to unnerve her, for something about this specific branch of the Amestrian Military was far out of whack. Too out of the ordinary for her to put her finger on it.

The blue eyed woman was first tempted to visit Central Command, but after having put some thought into the sentiment, she decided against it. Considering Roy Mustang had sent her a cryptic message in Morse Code, as a fugitive of the law she might have added, she decided that marching through the doors of what had previously been his office was not the best idea. For whatever reason, it seemed that the issue at hand lay within the very Command Center. Making her way into that building without so much as a plan would have been a poor decision to make.

So instead, Olivier made way up to her dreaded family estate. Located in the northernmost region of the damned city, Philip Gargantos Armstrong's home sat on a lovely sanction of land just on the outskirts of town. It was a grand mansion, standing at a whopping 10,000 or so square feet not including the courtyard, once home to seven incredibly strong willed, blonde, blue eyed individuals- Philip, his darling wife, and five beloved children. Olivier was not looking forward to the uncontrollable wave of nostalgia that would smack her in the face as entered the house once her driver pulled up to her childhood home. It looked the same, of course. Its cream exterior and gold accents, emphasized by the crisp blue of the roofs that not so coincidentally matched the seven pairs of eyes that set their sights on the home throughout the years. A lovely garden stretched out from the three sets of staircases that led to the front door with eight meticulously trimmed hedges placed evenly about the courtyard surrounding a babbling fountain. A cobblestone path led between the foliage toward the fenced gate as if it were designed to be a very simple maze.

It was a gorgeous house. Truly it was. But Olivier did not see beauty. She did not see sentiment, nor did she pristine. She saw a house in which she and her younger brother brawled like animals, fighting over the approval of their father as if it were the last piece of meat sitting on the dining room table. She saw privilege, a reminder that even without her training and position as the Major General of Briggs, she would have been well off, no matter her intended course of occupation. She saw a circus, a home of fools and helpless snobs. It was a far cry from Briggs, for it was a sign of comfort, warmth, and mollycoddling. And as she looked upon it, she almost wished she had ignored Roy's cry for assistance and stayed with her men.

God dammit, her men.

Leaving them to deal with the death of their fellow soldiers was quite possibly one of the hardest things she had ever willed herself to do. Olivier knew her men were not children, for she made sure of that before they were placed under her command. She knew that they could handle themselves, and that Captain Buccaneer was more than capable of taking command of the fort in her absence. Nevertheless, she had never abandoned her men before. Certainly not like this. Briggs was her home. Hell, she had practically raised it from the ground up. She was proud to call her officers her officers and he was proud to call herself the Major General of such a fine establishment, for those men were not privileged or helpless. They were strong, brave, merciless, and fearless. They represented all that Olivier and Fort Briggs stood for, and for that, she couldn't have been prouder to be their Major.