Chereads / Fullmetal Alchemist: Through the Gates of Truth / Chapter 4 - Chapter 3 The Mask of Friendship

Chapter 4 - Chapter 3 The Mask of Friendship

I left the city of Xerxes behind. The once proud capital, now a graveyard of souls, disappeared over the horizon. If I had been able to feel the harshness of the desert, the heat might have been unbearable. But as I moved through the vast desert, I realized something unusual about my body. The elements had no effect on me. The sun was sinking on the vast sea of sand, the heat shimmered in waves, but I remained unperturbed - I was not bothered by thirst, hunger, or fatigue.

This body... whatever it was, it felt resilient, almost inhuman. No pain, no fatigue, just a quiet, relentless urge to keep moving. It was a strange sensation, as if I existed outside of ordinary life, a ghost clothed in flesh and bone. The sun had no power over me, and even the quicksand beneath my feet seemed irrelevant, as if I could walk for days, even weeks, without stopping.

According to the map I found in Xerxes, the city was located deep in the heart of this vast desert. It was actually amazing how such a place could thrive in this harsh terrain. A city in the sands, built on the backs of slaves. The memory of that thought - of slavery - brought such a familiar response to me. And yet I couldn't remember why. It was just a faint echo, a fleeting thought of oppression and hard labor that seemed both distant and personal.

As I walked, I looked over the map once more, tracing the rough lines that marked the regions around Xerxes. To the east, according to the scribbled notes, lay Sin, a distant kingdom known for its advanced alchemy, or, as they called it, alkahestria. Sin was a mysterious land to me, its culture and customs unfamiliar to me, but it was the closest civilization, at least by the standards of the map.

To the west, the landscape was marked by small city-states, independent but scattered. They had yet to unite under one banner, still fighting amongst themselves or maintaining tenuous alliances. The region seemed to be in constant flux, waiting for a powerful force to emerge that would unite them - or tear them apart.

Farther to the southwest was Aerugo, a principality whose borders stretched along the southern edge of the map. It was said to be a fertile land, more lush and green than desert, in stark contrast to the desolation surrounding Xerxes. Yet Aerugo, with his princes and nobles, waged his own struggle, constantly wary of the forces looming over him.

And then there was Cretua, a promising power in the west. Cretua did something unique - it united the neighboring tribes into a single entity, establishing a hereditary dynasty. They were a new force in the region, looking to consolidate their power and build their own empire. The story of their rise to power intrigued me; there was something about conquest, about uniting disparate peoples, that struck some string in me, though, again, I didn't know why.

Finally, to the northwest was Drachma. A country known for its warlike nature, it was a nation constantly on the brink of conflict. Its inhabitants were hardened by the cold and mountainous terrain, and their ambition was simple: conquest. The map spoke of skirmishes and wars with neighbors, a nation constantly at war with everyone and everything. A nation where strength was everything and the weak were trampled underfoot.

The choice before me was obvious. I could have gone in any direction, and every path held many unknown paths. But the desert was endless, and though I did not feel the full weight of its harshness, it was better not to wander aimlessly. Sin, with its alchemical accomplishments, seemed the most logical destination. Perhaps there I could find answers to questions about my existence, about this strange body I inhabited. The Orient beckoned to me, but something kept me in suspense-a sense that no matter where I went, I would never be able to rid myself of the shadows of my past, however faint they might be now.

Nevertheless, I had no better choice, and I kept walking forward, with the endless desert stretching out before me, knowing that somewhere ahead of me the mysteries of this world awaited me. The sands whispered with the echo of Xerxes, but I silenced them with each step.

Initially, I turned my attention to the land of Sin, its alchemy - aka alkakhestria - an intriguing mystery that beckoned me from the east. But time passed, and the desert swallowed up any sense of progress. It seemed that every step was leading me nowhere. The dunes remained the same, the relentless sun hung motionless in the sky, and the earth seemed to play a cruel trick on my mind. Time was not passing, or perhaps I was simply out of its reach.

For all I knew, days, maybe weeks, had passed. But I didn't feel the fatigue a normal person might feel. Hunger didn't grate on my stomach. Thirst didn't burn my throat. I could have walked forever on this endless, rippling sea of sand. My body moved, but it was as if the desert refused to let me go.

In all that time, I had not met a single living soul. No traders, no caravans, not even the occasional wanderer who defied the desert's cruelty. For a moment I wondered if this wasteland was some kind of illusion, a prison from which there was no escape. The map I had with me, though crude, led me to believe that Shin was to the east, but the endless dunes suggested that I was just walking in circles. Each step seemed to repeat the previous one, bringing me back to the same starting point.

But just when I was beginning to doubt my sanity - whether I was really condemned to stay in this place forever - I saw something. In the distance I could see barely discernible but unmistakable mountains. Not hilly, dust-covered hills of sand, but real, towering mountains. Jagged peaks cut through the haze, their stark outlines beckoning, as if promising an escape from the monotonous desert.

The mountains were my new goal. When I saw them, my faint sense of direction returned to me, and for the first time since I'd left Xerxes, I felt a semblance of hope. They were still far away, their silhouettes barely visible against the endless horizon, but they were real. And they were worth striving for.

As I walked, the days merged into one. There was no way to time myself, no bouts of hunger or fatigue. But gradually the desert began to change. The barren sea of sand began to give way little by little. In some places the ground was no longer completely covered with sand; in some places I could see some blades of grass poking through. At first they were thin, fragile stalks, but as we progressed they became more frequent.

It was a small change, but a significant one. The world around me was changing, as if I had finally escaped the merciless grip of the desert and entered a different climate zone. The heat, though persistent, no longer felt so oppressive. The occasional gust of wind carried a different scent - cooler, cleaner. I felt like I was leaving behind the vast wasteland of Xerxes.

And yet with each passing day, as I drew closer to the mountains, a strange feeling stirred in the back of my mind. It was a subtle but insistent feeling that I was not alone. I saw no sign of other travelers, but something or someone was watching me from afar. I wasn't sure what it was. But I couldn't shake the feeling that my journey was about to change. It was as if what awaited me beyond these mountains was not at all what I expected.

The farther I walked, the more the world around me changed. Trees appeared in the background, their branches swaying gently in the wind. The oppressive heat of the desert was far behind me, replaced by cool, refreshing air.

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I began to hear the sounds of life. The air was filled with the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, and the distant cries of animals. The world opened up before me, unfolding in ways I hadn't experienced in what seemed like a lifetime. After the stifling silence of the abyss beyond the Gate and the endless, burning expanse of the desert, this place seemed almost alive-a symphony of sounds and sensations.

But as the forest grew thicker around me and the desert faded into the distance, the uneasy feeling of being watched grew stronger. At first it had been subtle, like a whisper in the back of my mind. But now, as I walked several kilometers across this new land, the feeling became undeniable. I had crossed into someone else's territory. Whose territory? That remained to be seen.

I slowed my step, my senses sharpening. I listened. The sounds of the forest seemed natural at first, but something was wrong. Against the background of birdsong and rustling leaves, I caught the distinct sound of movement. Something-or someone-was sneaking among the trees, trying to remain unnoticed. The rhythm of their footsteps was measured, cautious.

Hunters, perhaps? Or maybe bandits, waiting for an unsuspecting traveler to cross their path. There was also the possibility that I had crossed the borders of some country, if such borders even existed in this world. The maps I found were vague, but they hinted at civilizations and kingdoms.

Whoever it was was watching me.

I continued walking, though slower now, not taking my eyes off the road while my senses were strained. The forest wasn't just full of animals. I could feel it. I could hear the leaves rustling differently when something larger than a bird or squirrel moved through them. Whoever was there was following me, their movements were precise and deliberate. But why hadn't they opened up yet?

As I went deeper into the forest, I weighed my options. Should I keep walking and ignore the people who were there? Or should I face them head-on? If this was the edge of some civilization, perhaps they were just border guards or scouts.

But if they were bandits, that would be a different story.

I made my decision and stopped, standing perfectly still in the middle of the forest. I listened for the slightest change in the rhythm of the forest-any sign that my pursuers had noticed my stop. The sounds of sneaking movements stopped as well, confirming my suspicions.

They were close.

I took a deep breath, my voice sounding steady as I addressed the shadows: "You may come out now. I have already discovered you, and there is no point in hiding."

For a moment, only the rustling of leaves and the distant sounds of the forest were heard. I could feel their gazes on me, tension hung in the air. Minutes passed, each second stretching into an eternity, until finally one of the figures emerged from the leaves.

A fat man stepped into the clearing, his scarred face framed by a mop of uncombed hair. He looked disarmingly cheerful, his face spread into a broad smile, but there was something in his eyes, a glint that betrayed his intentions. He had the look of a man who was used to getting what he wanted, one way or another.

- 'Hey-hey! 'No need to be so nervous, friend,' he said in a warm and accommodating voice. - You've wandered pretty far into our territory, haven't you?

I kept my wits about me, studying him carefully. - I'd like to know where I am and how far it is from here to the nearest town," I answered in a neutral tone.

- Ah, the nearest settlement is a little farther away," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "But you are on the outskirts of Drachma's borders, my friend. Not many travelers take this route, especially alone. Most have a caravan or companions."

I raised an eyebrow. "And yet, your friends still hide in the shadows like rats. Why is that?"

The man's smile faded for a moment, irritation flashing across his face before he regained his composure. - Ah, they're just being cautious, that's all. You can't be too careful these days, you know? There are bandits and worse things out here. Better be on the alert isn't it?".

I let the silence hang between us for a moment, studying his reaction. The way he spoke seemed rehearsed, his words lacking genuine warmth. I sensed he was trying to sell me a story, but something about it didn't feel right.

- Are you being cautious? Or are you just waiting for me to let my guard down? - I parried in a sharper tone. - You don't have to be shrewd to realize you're not alone. So let's cut to the chase - what do you want?

He laughed, and his loud laughter echoed through the trees. "Want? Now that's an interesting question! All I want is to help you find your way. We could be of mutual benefit, you and I."

"Mutual benefit?" - Yes?" I echoed, squinting my eyes. - Is that what you call it when you ambush travelers?

"Ambush?" He feigned innocence, raising his hands as if defending himself against my accusation. "Oh no, we never dreamed of such a thing! We're just... defending our territory, that's all. But my intentions are purely friendly, I assure you."

I studied him, weighing my options. The man was intelligent, but I wasn't entirely sure of his good character. I sensed that the rest of his group was still lurking, waiting for a sign. Whatever game they were playing, I was determined not to be a pawn.

"All right," I said slowly. "I'll listen to you. But know this - I won't be a victim. If I sense that anything is wrong, things will get unpleasant."

The man's smile returned, wider this time. "Of course, friend! Just follow me, and I will take you to the nearest settlement. You'll see - it's a place full of possibilities."

When the fat man nodded faintly, his companions, about a dozen of them in all, emerged from the shadows. They came into the clearing, their faces a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Though their clothing varied - some ragged, others surprisingly well-groomed - it was their demeanor that spoke volumes. These weren't just travelers; they were a gang of cunning bandits with keen eyes and smooth movements, ready for anything.

I cautiously followed them, all my senses on edge. The leader introduced himself with a swagger. "I am Garrick, just a humble guide in these parts! Welcome to Drachma!" His voice sounded exaggeratedly cheerful, but I noticed his gaze sliding over me, assessing, calculating.

As we went deeper into the forest, Garrick began regaling me with tales of his adventures in Drachma. He told stories of daring robberies and people who had miraculously escaped death, his words drenched in bravado. "You see, Drachma has a good reputation," he said, spreading his arms wide as if he wanted to cover the whole country.

"And what is the culture of Drachma, you say?" I put in, feigning interest but keeping my guard up. "What else do I need to know?"

The expression on Garrick's face changed slightly, the playful tone changing to a more serious one. - Ah, Drachma is a land of opportunity, if you are willing to take risks. We have a rich history of trade and conflict. You will find that strength and cunning are valued above all else here."

One of the bandits added: "We have had our share of wars, but we enjoy them!"

- Yeah, thrills," Garrick said, and the smile returned to his face, though it didn't touch his eyes. - But be careful. Trust isn't enough even for Drachma, and the only law is survival. Just remember that a good friend today could be an enemy tomorrow.

I nodded, absorbing his words and at the same time wary of any sign of deception. It was clear that Drachma was a place where alliances shifted like the wind and danger lurked around every corner.

As we stepped out into the fresh air, I couldn't shake the feeling that my adventure in Drachma was just beginning.