Edward yawned as he set his empty water glass on the kitchen counter and glanced at the clock: 2:36 AM. He winced.

Why did he even bother staying up so late with his dusty alchemy books anymore? No matter how much he studied or how he longed to feel the exhilarating surge of energy flowing through his fingers again, it wouldn't return that part of him.

Not that he really cared. The sacrifice had been small compared to the joy of getting his brother back, and he'd gladly give it up for Al again...and more, if he had to. A hundred times over.

The 24-year-old reached up and pulled out his pony-tail,...

for Morning is made
of mysteries and uncertainties
the hopes of beginnings
the risks of unknowns
the potential for greatness
or failure

~ -:- ~

The sunlight of a newborn day peeps through the window behind her and coaxes its way past the curtains, falling across a table covered in sprawling wires and metal parts to touch golden strands of hair. A girl just shy of 18 years stands bent over her work with lips pursed, oblivious to everything but the stubborn bolt she's attempting to wrestle into its socket.

The phone rings from a few feet away, and she automatically reaches for it and tucks it under...