The Multiblood Alchemist

The Fateful Morning

    Mason silently snored on the floor next to me as I lay awake, watching the blazing orange sun slowly rise over Kanama. I couldn't sleep due to an odd feeling in my stomach. I tried to convince Mason to stay awake with me, but he shook it off and fell asleep. A distant rooster crows, and the hut is silent, which is unusual. I lift myself up, rub my emerald green eyes, and walk into the main room. It's dusty, and empty. Mother must be in her room I thought as I check my mother's room. Once again, the dirt room is bare. Odd I think as the quiet remains in our small hut. I scan the room. Still nothing. My palms start to sweat as I rush to the bathroom. It consisted of a stone basin, and a wooden bucket.  Nothing. Where could Mother be? I check the dirt yard. Nothing. That's when the horror of reality set in.

   "Mason!" I yell, panting as I swing into our room.

"Mmph?" He moans as he rolls over.

"Mother's gone," I say, tears streaming down my slim face.

 "What?!?" He shrieks as he shoots up. He shoves past me to look for himself, and finds the same thing as me. Nothing.

"Lets ask around to see if anybody knows where she went," he suggests. We set out to ask our cruel, judging neighbors, but after nearly three hours, we get nothing.

"So now what do we do?" I ask my brother.

"We wait for Mom for starters," he replies wearily.
"Right," I say. We sit there in silence for the next few minutes.
"Well, I'm gonna make breakfast," Mason says, and pushes himself up. I follow him outside, and we walk into the woods.
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"Got it?" I loudly ask Mason. He managed to climb all the way up a tall tree and steal bird eggs.
"Yeah, I think," he shouts in reply. I nod, and stare at the ground blanketed with pine needles. It's as if I get caught in a trance, and I stare more into the brown, stick like needles.
"UAGH!!!!" Mason yells, and I snap my head upwards. I barely can move before all one hundred and five pounds lands on me.
"Ah! Jeez, you can't even climb a tree without nearly killing us both," I snarl underneath Mason.
"Hey! At least I  did the work!" Mason objects.
"Yeah, and I broke your fall. Besides, you killed the work," I retort, just noticing the egg yolks covering Mason's shirt and my hair.
"Hey, you know what they say. Egg helps your hair," Mason says to me with a soft chuckle.
"Ugh, let's find a lower tree to get breakfast from," I groan, as I shove Mason off of me.
"Yeah," he agrees and offers his hand to me. I take it, and he pulls me to my feet. We set off to find a small tree with a bird's nest in it.

    "Found one!" Mason exclaims, pointing to a small sapling. A nest lays on the lowest branch.
"This'll be way too easy," Mason mutters, cracking his knuckles. He looks both ways, and he sneaks up to the tree. He doesn't look when he sticks his hand into the nest, and he screams. A bird flies out, and starts dive bombing him, angrily screeching.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Mason yells as if the bird could understand our language. I look at him as he runs. He flails his arms in the air, and runs in circles. He's such a moron I think as I roll my eyes.

"Whew, that was fun," Mason says, trotting over to me. His face is a deep red, and it's drenched in sweat.
"Why didn't you look when you tried to take that egg?" I ask.
"Uh... well, I wasn't thinking, and I was being dumb," he says, embarrassed.
"Exactly," I say, turning away. "Come on, let's eat something at home," I yell behind me. Mason follows me back to Kanama, still blushing deeply.

      "Well, that was good," Mason says with a small burp. I slug him in the arm.
"Manners!" I scold him.
"Fine. Excuse me," he scoffs, turning away. We had gone to one of our neighbors who had chickens, and we stole some eggs from the nesting boxes. The bad news was that the neighbor had come out at the unusual sound of his chickens squawking, and had chased us out with a pitchfork. Now we sit on the dirt floor, our stomachs bulging from the large amounts of eggs that we had nabbed. This routine went on for months, and Mom never showed up.
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"Hey, Mason," I timidly say, peeking around the wooden corner going into our room.
"Huh?" Mason says, his nose stuck in a book about polar Alchemy.
"Well, Mom's been gone for months, nearly a year," I timidly say, rocking on my feet.
"I've noticed," he replies, showing no sign of breaking his concentration.
"What should we do?" I ask, and a huge weight lifts off my chest.
"We go to Central, train as Alchemists, and try to become State Alchemists," he says surprisingly quickly, as if he rehearsed it over and over in his head.

"Isn't that a bit impossible?" I ask.

"Nothing's impossible. Not yet," Mason replies. I nod my head, as we come up with a plan. We would go to Central tomorrow, find a place to stay, and find a trainer. This is what started our journey to become State Alchemists. Little did I know that one of us would be dead, and the other stuck with a paralyzed arm.