“A homunculus.” It was a statement and a question in one as Riza studied her unusual companion across their small campfire. A fire her companion had lit with a soft breath. Its light threw eerie shadows over the walls of the cave that was their shelter. 

           But, it was light enough to get a closer look at the human-shaped dragon who called himself Roy. Hair as obsidian as the scales of his dragon form was his only distinguishing feature. He had an average build and dressed in clothes styled much like her own beneath a long, black cloak. Sensible wear for the terrain and nothing that would mark him as anything but human. 

           Except for the light she had seen in his eyes and the fact that he could supposedly sense that her king was a homunculus.

           At her question, Roy nodded. “I first sensed him five years ago.”

           Riza started. “But, you didn’t do anything for four years.”

           Roy’s lips quirked. “Dragon and human relations are strained enough without us assassinating kings. And,” he shrugged, “homunculi aren’t common, but there are one or two every generation. They’re dangerous, but their nature usually betrays them quickly and a master alchemist makes an end to them.” Roy’s eyes darkened then, and he stared into the flames. “I had no idea that knowledge had been lost.”

           “Lost?” Riza looked at him in confusion. Homunculi had been confined to brief, terrifying excerpts in her father’s alchemy texts, but they were there. 

           Roy met her gaze and offered her a small smile. “You’re the first person I’ve met who didn’t stare at me like I was mad when I broached the topic.” The smile widened a bit. “I suspect your education must have been better than most.”

           Riza considered that. “You don’t think that’s an accident. No more than a homunculus being king.”

           “I wish it was,” Roy’s face grew serious again, “but it’s too much at once.” He held up a finger. “The knowledge of homunculi is lost.” Another finger came up. “A homunculus is installed as king.” He raised a third finger. “And, your country begins an unprecedented series of wars with its neighbors.” Roy dropped his hand. “The last isn’t uncommon. Homunculi, one way or another, feed on human lives. It’s how very careful he’s been.”

           “The king only initiates wars where the odds are in Amestris’ favor,” said Riza, slowly puzzling it out. “If he were ruled by his need for his human lives, he wouldn’t care which side had more casualties.”

           “Exactly.” 

           It was enormous. It was so much beyond the mission she had originally undertaken. But, Riza knew she couldn’t, wouldn’t back out now.

           “So, what do you plan to do?”

           Roy smiled again. “There are some people I need you to meet. Are you rested enough to continue?” 

           The cave, as it turned out, was part of a massive system that wound beneath the mountains. A surprisingly hospitable cave system that more favored the warren of a giant animal than the craggy, damp caverns Riza had expected. There was even a faint trickle of fresh air from some distant shaft. As she followed Roy and the ball of fire he’d conjured at his fingertips, Riza ran a hand along the nearest wall. It was smooth with a fine, regular texture almost like…

           “Alchemy?”

           Roy half-turned. “Yes. These caves were transmuted by generations of dragons. There are caverns large enough to sleep in our true forms and deep enough to stay comfortably warm through the winter months.”

           So, dragons had other ways of hiding than their surprising human forms. But, that realization paled in the face of the one Roy had less directly given her.

           “Dragons can use alchemy?”

           Roy started walking again. “Yes.” He lifted his right hand with its flickering flame over his shoulder a bit. “This is alchemy.”

           Riza started. “Flame alchemy.”

           The science her father had devoted his life to mastering. A difficult and delicate balance of controlling the air itself. One that the slightest mistake could turn deadly.

           Her father had found beauty in it. Riza had seen only death and found other ways to master the air. More mundane, more practical. And, just as deadly, though never so fickle. 

           She found no particular beauty in her archery. Only necessity.

           Now, she could only stare at the conjured – transmuted – flames and remember the night the Capital had burned. Remember the dragon – Roy – crouched above her, breathing in a great gulp of air before exhaling in flames.

           “Dragons,” she began slowly, “don’t breathe fire. They transmute the air and ignite it somehow.”

           The grin Roy flashed over his shoulder was fanged and approving.

           Riza’s eyes narrowed. “You’re enjoying this.” 

           “The chance to speak with someone so well-educated and quick-minded?” There was something softer in the grin this time. “I suppose I am.”

           Riza felt a vague, fluttery feeling she couldn’t identify. It was a feeling that stayed with her deep into the mountain.