Chapter Text
The Truth is this: a Toll is always paid, Something is always gained, and Death is always the end.
An alchemist in search of recognition pays with his country, gains immortality, and will die of old age.
An alchemist in search of her child pays with her fertility, gains knowledge, and will die of old age.
An alchemist in search of a mother’s embrace pays with his body, gains knowledge, and will die of old age.
An alchemist so proud to stand on his own pays with his leg, gains knowledge, and will die of old age.
An alchemist in search of the brother he lost pays with his arm, gains his lost brother, and will die of old age.
An alchemist in search of a brighter future for his people will pay with his sight, will gain knowledge, and will die of old age.
A Dwarf in a Flask in search of the world will pay with his life, will gain despair, and will die at the hands of his kin.
Sometimes, people refuse to pay their dues.
But the Truth will out.
Antioch makes the finishing touches on the large array they have drawn on the ground, a complicated, interwoven piece of art, both magic and alchemy.
It had to work.
He looks over at Cadmus, his brother pale and twitchy where he checks for the upteenth time that their calculations are correct. He, perhaps more than them, is desperate for this to work, is set on it to the point of obsession.
Ignotus only looks scared. “Are we really going to do this?”
Cadmus turns on him with a wild look in his eyes and hisses from between his teeth. “Of course we are! We all agreed!”
“But is it safe?”
“Define safe,” Antioch says dryly, comparing the array with their sketch once more, betraying his nerves. “You can’t jump ship now, Iggy, we need three of us for it to activate. Thrice is the charm and all that.”
“Safety is overrated,” Cadmus bites, finally putting their calculations away. “We are trying to defeat Death, there is no safety here.”
Ignotus makes a displeased sound in his throat. “Defeating Death sounds so silly, Cad.”
“It kind of is what we are doing, though,” Antioch shrugs, taking his spot at the outside of the array. “We have discovered the Truth and will beat it at its own game. Death is only a part of the Truth.”
“And it will no longer apply to us,” Cadmus says gleefully, taking his spot at the edge of the circle as well. “We found the Truth behind the Truth, and we will surpass it.”
Ignotus sighs, giving up on arguing with his older brothers and taking his own spot in the setup. “On three?”
“One,” Antioch says, raising his hands.
“Two,” Cadmus says, bending his knees with gleeful anticipation.
“Three,” Ignotus says, and their hands make contact with the array.
Red lightning arches, then blue, then sickly green like death, and then there is white.
There is white, and a Gate, and the Truth.
The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence.
“I have defeated you,” Antioch Peverell, who will become a fairytale, says to the Truth, the Gate behind him closed shut and withered. “And I want power over death, to best all those who dare cross the path of the Master of Death.”
The second brother, an arrogant man, chose to further humiliate Death, and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave.
“I have defeated you,” Cadmus Peverell, whose line will not end with him, but will end nonetheless, says to the Truth, the Gate behind him closed shut and cracked. “And I want power over death, to bring back those taken before their time as the Master of Death.”
The third and youngest brother, who was the most humble and wise, did not trust Death and asked for something to enable him to go forth without Death being able to follow.
“I have not defeated you,” Ignotus Peverell, whose line will go on for many generations, and not end for many more, says to the Truth, the Gate behind him closed shut and whole. “And I do not ask for power over death I have not earned, nor knowledge I have not paid for. I merely wish to go and live my life until my time has come.”
Antioch Peverell will go on to die in his sleep, cut down by a coward, and his Elder Wand taken. For the Toll he paid for his folly was the life he could have had, and thus Death came for him before his time, as it comes to all things living. And the Elder Wand will go on to be soaked in blood and bring premature Death to all those who fancy themselves above the Truth: that all things must end.
Cadmus Peverell will go on to bring his beloved back from beyond the Veil with the Resurrection Stone, but find her lacking. She had moved on from the fickleness of Life and resented her beloved for taking her away from the peaceful embrace of Death. Cadmus, unable to bear it, will follow her beyond the Veil. But the Resurrection Stone will remain with his line, and so will the obsession with Death, and avoiding its inevitability, and it will be futile.
Ignotus Peverell will go on to live all the years he was always meant to have, and go beyond the Veil without remorse, and so will all those of his line who follow in his wake. For he had known the Truth, unlike his brothers: that all things living must end, and Death comes to all. What matters is how you decide to meet it.
The brothers ended up paying their dues, in time.
Someone else did not.
Edward Elric opens his eyes and sees white, and a Gate, and the Truth.
He sits up, wincing at the pulsing pain in his abdomen and the aches all across his body.
“Ah,” the Truth says, grinning. “I see you’ve woken up, my little alchemist.”
“Why the fuck—,” he groans, gingerly crossing his legs, hand at the hole in his abdomen. It doesn’t bleed, but beneath his fingers the flesh is still open and lethally wounded. “Why am I here?”
“Glad that you asked!” They exclaim, and it’s like deja vu. “Did you really think using your own soul would make it not human transmutation? Why wouldn’t it drag you before the Gate, bringing yourself back from the brink?”
Ed hesitates, automail fingers digging into his thigh. “Was I that far gone?”
Truth hums. “I’d say you had about two minutes left, before the transmutation. That makes this the second time you drag your half-dead ass here, doesn’t it?”
“So what’s this about then? Want another arm or leg? I thought a couple years would be enough for some hasty patchwork.”
“Oh, it would be,” Truth shrugs, using Ed’s stolen arm to scratch at where their cheek would be. “But given the general state of the world and everything, I thought I’d make you an offer. You know, for old time’s sake. We’ve been through so much together after all.”
Ed frowns. “And if I refuse?”
“I send you back, no memory of this encounter, a few years shaved off your lifespan and half-dead.”
He bites his lip. “What’s the offer?”
A feral grin spreads across Truth’s featureless visage. “Ever heard of the multiverse theory?”
Ed raises his eyebrows. “Are you joking?”
“Nope!” Truth spreads their arms wide. “There are in fact an immeasurable number of worlds out there, and today I’d like to offer you the opportunity to see one for yourself.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch, just an exchange, alchemist.” Ed frowns but waits for Truth to continue. “There is a world where not everyone can perform alchemy, and it works by different rules. They call it magic, and those who can use it live separate from those who can’t.”
“Magic?” Ed wants to roll his eyes but refrains. “You gotta be kidding.”
“I’m not. Their alchemy — magic — is temporary. Some of their spells last longer than others, centuries even, but eventually they dissipate. It still uses the energy of the world, but it is channeled differently.”
“Is normal alchemy still possible?” No way was he going to some wacko world where they use magic if he can’t use normal fucking science.
“Yes. Some of them have actually studied it, but most don’t. It doesn’t work within the same framework as the magic they are used to.”
Ed frowns in thought. “Would magic be possible in Amestris? If the reverse is possible.”
“No,” Truth hums, seemingly happy they get to talk so much. If they can feel happy in the first place, that is. “Their magic works on the basis that not everyone is born with their own Gate, there can only ever be a set amount of people capable of magic in their world. In your world, everyone can use alchemy if they put in the work.”
“Okay,” Ed ponders this for a moment. “Why do you want me to go to that world? What would the exchange be?”
Truth’s grin falls. “There is someone who has gotten it into his head to become immortal. Sound familiar?”
“You want me to deal with another one?” Ed buries his head in his hands, ignoring the pain from his abdomen. “Are you serious right now?”
“As a heart attack,” Truth deadpans. “He has split his soul into multiple pieces and attached it to things and living beings in an attempt to escape death. The last people who tried that didn’t last long, but he’s been… persistent.”
Ed feels bile rise up in his throat and wonders if he can puke in this place. “He… split his soul?”
“Yes,” Ed can’t be sure, but it almost looks like Truth is frowning. “I ask you to go to this world, destroy all the pieces of his soul and bring him to the Gate. In exchange I return you to the moment you performed the transmutation on yourself, but you will be fully healed. And once you return the homunculus Father to the Gate, you may take your brother’s body, free of charge.”
Truth grins at whatever face he must be making and offers him a hand. His stolen right, the fucker. “So, what say you, little alchemist?”
It was never a question, was it?
Ed takes the hand, and shakes it.