PROLOGUE
IT WAS A WASTELAND the color of yellow mud.
On a dry edge of it, a girl of seven, perhaps eight, lay flat upon the ground. Her eyes shone clear and bright above peach-colored lips, and her brown hair was bound in two pigtails that reached to her shoulders, framing a face that would be cute if only she were smiling.
But her cheeks trembled and her eyes glistened, betraying the tears she fought so hard to hold back.
An iron cart lay on its side, on her legs.
The girl whimpered.
She had been playing, drawing pictures on the ground with a stick. Like so many times before, she had run up and grabbed the cart, but this time, it toppled.
She looked up, longing to cry, but forcing herself to stay quiet. She tried to crawl out from under the cart, but only managed to scrape her arms. A sob caught in her throat, and she hiccupped.
It took all her strength to twist her upper body around far enough to see the houses on the outskirts of town, dim through the dust.
“Papa!” she cried out as loudly as she could. But she knew no one would hear her.
What would happen if no one found her, she wondered. What if she were stuck here forever? Fear gripped her and the dam broke. She wept, tears streaking the dust on her face, running grimy rivulets down her cheeks.
A shadow fell across her.
“Papa!”
“It’s okay. I’ll get you right out. Don’t cry.”
She blinked and looked up at the unexpected voice emanating from the dark silhouette of a boy framed by the sun. His face was hidden in shadow, but she could tell from his height and the sound of his voice that he was young, perhaps no older than she.
“Just hold on a second, okay?” He peered down at her. “Does it hurt?” he asked, giving the cart a light push.
It was all she could do to nod yes.
“There’s an iron frame under the cart. See? That’s what’s trapped your leg. You’ll be fine. It doesn’t look like you’re hurt.”
Even empty, the iron cart was quite heavy. It was built tough for carrying heavy rocks. If the frame hadn’t stopped it from falling directly on her, she might have been badly injured—unable to move or call for help at the very least.
“Hold on. I’ll get it off you.” The boy didn’t seem intimidated by the cart’s weight. He looked as though he might try to push it off her with brute force alone. As she watched, the boy took a step back. “Stay calm, and don’t move.”
He reached out with both hands and touched the frame under the side of the cart.
The girl barely had time to wonder what he was doing when she felt the weight of the cart ease. She looked down at her feet and saw the cart lurch upright and over. The iron bar on her legs had been knocked flat under the cart, but now it pointed straight up, as though it had sprung up from the ground like a plant … as though it was the bar itself that had leapt up and pushed aside the cart. Bewildered, she looked down to see the boy kneeling by her feet.
“Hmm … Looks like you got scratched up a bit, that’s all. You’re lucky!” The boy turned toward her and smiled, the sun shining on his face. It wasn’t a face she recognized. He wasn’t from town.
“Who are you?”
The boy brushed a shock of golden-blond hair out of his eyes and held out his hand. “Edward Elric. Nice to meet you!”
He smiled, his silver eyes sparkling in the sun.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login