A peek inside Envy's head, in which he remembers someone he isn't.
They tried to make him remember, at first. And it worked. He remembered everything.
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Adam, and he lived with his mother and father in a great house. And there had been servants to attend him, and he was doted on by his mother, and beloved of his father, and they were happy, the three of them.
No, wait. Once upon a time, there was a boy named Adam, and his mother loved him, even though she was angry with him often. Once he needed twelve stitches, after she threw the cut-crystal vase. But she didn't mean to hurt him. And his father loved him too, though he was a busy man, and his books were important, but Adam was important, too. Sometimes, his father would even tell him so. When he wasn't busy.
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Adam, and he died. He was sixteen.
That is the one thing he cannot remember -- the dying.
He remembers the things before the death. He remembers women. Countless women. The joke ran that if a young lady showed a growing belly, the young Master Elric had been at her. He remembers men, and if people joked about the women, that was a matter they were silent on. He remembers his mother's rage when she found him in his room with one of the servants, the sound of some bauble she'd given him smashing against the wall. He remembers his father's silence.
But, in the end, it was no better or worse than any other transgression.
He remembers spending small fortunes on anything that caught his fancy. He remembers the horses. There was no one who could ride better.
He remembers rich foods, fine clothes, wine that flowed freely.
But he cannot remember how he died.
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Adam, and his parents loved him so much that when he died, they violated a great taboo, and tried to bring him back. That might have been what began it all, the price they paid, their own desire to live after paying it.
It doesn't matter.
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Adam, but Envy is not him. He remembers, but he will never be.
Adam could forgive, and Envy never will.
Forgiveness is such a human thing, after all, reserved for those with souls, not empty shells full of stolen memories.
But he remembers everything, because they wanted him to.
And, as he looks at his father's precious son, his half-brother, he ponders the fact that forgetting, it seems, is also a human thing.