Fledgling Pt. 02

For decades upon decades he lived, traveling around the world and living purely for himself. He grew narcissistic and selfish. He bedded so many women, even a few men. He knew that he could have anyone he wanted in the world. He robbed and murdered without thought, seeing the humans around him as simple animals, livestock he could do with as he pleased. He continued working to become the strongest alchemist who ever lived, but now with less urgency. He could take his time. He had all the time in the world.

In the mid-nineteenth century he went to California to find gold, and with his alchemy got it. He had more wealth than he could even imagine.

Over the years his existence went from one of progress and conquest to one of listlessness and debauchery. Everything seemed so unimportant, and he quite literally had no urgent incentive to do anything. He had everything he could have ever wanted, but soon feared that he didn't have the happiness he once had, if he ever even had it at all.

These doubts and questions continued through the years, but came to a head on a night a couple decades after the turn of the century. Fauntleroy was bored, so wanted to have some fun like he used to. He was in a small town in the central United States, and found his target with a woman who either lived alone or who's husband was away. In the dead of night he broke in like he had done thousands of times before. The first thing he had to do was kill the witness. Then he could take his time draining her life force for his own use and stealing what he wanted from the house.

He snuck up to her bedroom, but when he opened the door he was greeted by a blow to the head. It seemed that the woman would be putting up a fight. There was a scuffle, but Fauntleroy eventually overpowered her. It was when he had her pinned to the bed, hand around his throat, that he looked over at a mirror on the wall and saw something that made him stop everything.

He saw the image of a brutish, evil man hurting and assaulting an innocent woman for no reason. He saw a selfish, cowardly person who was no use to anyone else in the world.

When he looked in the mirror, he realized that he had become exactly like his father.

That simple fact made him feel like he'd been hit by a train. There was nothing noble about his life. Nothing useful. Nothing worthwhile at all.

He hated that feeling. He wanted to leave immediately, so that's what he did. He got off her and ran away. He wanted to be as far away as possible from that mirror, from that image.

The whole ordeal was somewhat of a shock to Fauntleroy. He thought he had completely embraced nihilism. He thought that morals didn't matter even the slightest to him; they sure hadn't for the last two hundred years. But the fact that he became like the person he first wanted to kill shook him to the core.

He tried to ignore it, but for so many years he fell further into depression and self-loathing. He spiraled ever so slowly down the abyss. He got so much self-importance and pride so quickly and lost it so slowly. He realized that it wasn't life that was meaningless; it was he that was meaningless.

It came to the point where he had no choice but to kill himself. It was the only right thing he could possibly do, the only thing he could do to make the world a better place.

Almost thirty years after that night, Fauntleroy found himself on a bridge over a canyon. He knew that all he had to do was jump and the nightmare his life had become would be over forever. He would either enter the never-ending blackness of death or spend eternity burning in hell where he belonged.

With the slightest of smiles, he was about to jump when he heard a voice.

"Please, sir, don't jump!"

He turned to see a young man, likely in his twenties, looking at him horrified. Apparently he was driving by at just the right moment. While Fauntleroy was certain he had never seen him before, he looked familiar for some reason.

"You don't have to do this, sir! There's so much you have to live for!"

"You don't know my life. You don't know what I've done. This world would be better off without me."

"That's not true!" The young man started slowly approaching. "God has a plan for each and every one of us! Jesus died for me and you and everyone who ever lived!"

The alchemist laughed bitterly.

"You can't sway me with your religious zealotry. I know for a fact that God abandoned me long ago."

"It's never to late to repent! No matter how far gone a man is, he's not lost if he can take even one step towards the light! Please, don't throw your life away!"

"SHUT UP!" he roared. "THERE ARE NO MIRACLES! PEOPLE NEVER CHANGE!"

"YOU'RE WRONG!" the man yelled back. "It's by a miracle that I'm even here talking to you!"

For some reason he couldn't explain, that statement grabbed Fauntleroy's attention in a way nothing else had in a very long time.

"What are you talking about?"

The young man continued walking up.

"My mother was home alone one night when a crazy man broke into the house. They fought and he overpowered her. He was about to kill her, but then the man looked in the mirror and froze."

Fauntleroy felt like he had been shot through the heart.

"The madman looked at what he was doing and saw reason again! He up and left on the spot! How could you not call that a miracle?"

The alchemist felt like his tongue was made out of lead when he spoke.

"How...how long ago was this?"

"Almost thirty years, sir. It was before I was even born."

For the first time in decades, Fauntleroy felt tears fall from his eye.

"Did your mother see anything unusual about that man?"

The young man cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, actually. She said he had a red eye."

Fauntleroy wobbled and almost fell, but the young man ran up and grabbed him, pulling him to safety.

The alchemist was glad that he was wearing an eyepatch. He started wearing it to hide his shame from the world, and he especially didn't want this young man to see what a monster he was.

Fauntleroy cried his heart out. He wasn't even in the same state he was that night! The odds of him running into the son of that woman were astronomical!

Maybe it was a coincidence. He had certainly lived long enough to expect a one-in-a-billion event sooner or later.

But, maybe...

Maybe...it was a sign. One from God Himself. Maybe God set up this miracle to tell Fauntleroy to live on. For perhaps the first time in his life, he wanted to have faith. He wanted to believe that God was on his side.

He cried for so long, the young man doing what he could to provide comfort.

"It's okay, sir. It's never too late to change."

After what felt like hours, Fauntleroy ran out of tears. He looked at the young man who helped save him.

"Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me, sir. Thank God. I'm just trying to do His work."

The alchemist looked out at the horizon, turned orange by the setting sun.

He wanted to change.

He wanted to turn his life around.

Fauntleroy took the deepest breath he had ever taken and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"THANK YOU, GOD!!! I HEAR YOU!! I WANT TO MAKE UP FOR EVERYTHING I'VE DONE!!"

He took another deep breath and screamed into the void something he never thought he would say again.

"I WANT TO LIVE!!!"

Fresh tears started flowing and he collapsed to the ground again. The young man helped him up.

Fauntleroy looked at the man and realized that he did take after his mother. This wasn't a trick. This wasn't a dream. Through the heaving sobs, the alchemist spoke.

"Wh-what's y-your name?"

The young man smiled.

"My name is Leroy."

The man named Leroy hugged him.

"What's your name, sir?"

Fauntleroy smiled weakly. He wanted to start his life over.

"I guess...I guess you can call me Leroy, too."

*****

Fauntleroy, now called Leroy by his friends, worked to turn his life around. He became a devout Christian and did mission work, some that he used alchemy for and some that he didn't. He gained a friend who had connections to the Vatican, and soon enough he had opportunity after opportunity to finally use alchemy to do the Lord's work.

The alchemist lived on, trying to right his past wrongs and redeem himself. If that took hundreds of years, he would accept that.

He moved around from place to place, never remaining at one location for too long. After so many years, the path he was on led him to South Africa, where he met a pastor called Father Pretorius.

Fauntleroy had been going to that church for a couple years when he asked Father Pretorius something.

"Father, is there an ultimate good a person could do? Something that God made all people for?"

The old pastor blinked a few times in shock before pondering the question.

"Well, son, that's a difficult question. I don't know if I have the answer for that."

He thought a little more.

"The closest thing I can think of is loving and nurturing another person."

Fauntleroy raised an eyebrow.

"You mean like a child?"

"Not necessarily. It can be anyone, since we're all children in the eyes of the Lord. But I think that nurturing a fledgling soul is something God wants all of us to do."

The alchemist thought about that.

"A fledgling soul..."

*****

I'm back in the study again, holding the hands of my Master. Both of us are crying.

Without hesitation I leap into a hug with him. We both sob and try to comfort each other about what we saw.

"I love you so much, my fledgling soul," Master tells me.

Eventually we calm down somewhat.

"Your creation became the goal of my life. I was selfish, creating the best thing possible for me. Please, forgive this old fool."

He petted my hair.

"I honestly don't know what you are in the eyes of God. I don't know if you have a soul, or if you have a piece of my soul, or if you somehow have a soul of your own. All I know is that I love you, pet."

He kisses my lips.

"That's my story. Now I want it to be your decision whether or not you love me."

I look at my Master, the man who's life I watched fall apart and then be put back together.

"Master," I say. "You were not a good person for most of your life. I could never love the man I saw back there. But I do love the man he became."

I cup his cheek with my hand.

"I want to love you forever. I want to be your soulmate. I want to love you and help you and be with you until we can both forget that that man ever existed."

I lean in and kiss his forehead.

"Are you sure, little one?" he asks.

I smile.

"I've never been more sure of anything."

I get even closer and nuzzle his neck.

"I want things between us to stay like how they've been. I like being your servant and pet, but I love you with everything I have, my Master."

He looks overjoyed through his tears.

"Oh, my fledgling. I love you so much."

He pulls me in for a tight hug.

"You're the one I want to be with, and I made you so you would not die as long as I keep living."

He kisses the crown of my head.

"Eventually, I do want to die. I want to leave this earth and go to God someday, but I've always been frightened of it."

He looks me square in the eye.

"My beautiful little fledgling. We'll live together for as long as you want. But one day, you'll feel like we lived the life we were meant to. When that happens, I want you to tell me. When you think our adventure on earth has ended, I'll send us both to the other side."

I nod, more tears falling.

"You're so much more than my fledgling. I'm sorry I've treated you as less than human. I need to give you a name."

I reach out and put my finger to his lips.

"I already said I liked the way things were. I'm your fledgling. That's all the identity I'll ever need."

"Are you sure?"

"I am, Master."

He kisses me, his touch now passionate.

"I want to show you how much I love you, pet. I want to make love to you until I can't even move!"

I moan in ecstasy.

"Do it, Master! Do everything!"

The two of us make love for hours upon hours. I soon lose track of how many people he makes me, how many times each of us come. All that matters is that me and the man I would love for the rest of time were showing each other that devotion.

After an eternity of passion, we fall asleep together, feeling like we became one.

*****

I still live in South Africa with my Master. The two of us keep living the life we had been, but now as devoted partners in addition to all the other things we are to each other. I ask him when he thinks we need to go somewhere else and he tells me that he'll know when the time is right. I know that I'll follow him to the ends of the earth.

I take what my Master had told me very seriously. One day, when our life together has run its course, I will tell him, but until then I'll cherish every single moment. It doesn't matter if it's for twenty, fifty, a hundred, or a thousand more years, I will never stop loving him, and I know he'll never stop loving me.

The love that the two of us share is truly unusual, but it's strong.

I'm his pet. I'm his slave. I'm his husband. I'm his wife. I'm his friend. I'm his lover.

I'm his fledgling.