Chapter Text
1800. Manila de Bay, Ship port, Manila
The blonde Russian could hear faint, whispers. "Where am I?" He asks himself in his mind. He couldn't remember what happened from the past days. All he remembered what his mother, Krul. Oh, everloving Krul Tepes, his mother whispered sweet nothings from his ear. Apologizing about her rash decision, she kissed his forehead as her last parting gift along with a locket containing a photo of his infant self and his mother on the other side. "I am very sorry for deciding this, Mikaela but as of the state of Russia, I simply cannot let you die here where death only awaits you. I want you to be safe.
I am sending you somewhere where no one could identify you. A refugee and the only living relative of Progenitor Krul Tepes of Sanguinem. Free from death, from harm, especially, free from this country. Be safe and always remember that I will forever love you my son."
Back to reality, Mikaela hears people talking in a language he is so not familiar with. He couldn't understand any of it but the sounds of their voices had tones of power. Wriggling around, he could makeshift that he was inside a room. People - from different country, Mika supposes were gathered crouching on dirty floorboards like they were forced to. Their different clothing gave away that they were exiled people. Just like him. All of them with different age gap. His clothes were collecting dust and is now covered with dirt. His only belonging was the small leather case bag Krul had packed for him. Mostly his normal clothes and possibly some mementos from his country. His blonde hair was disheveled and having its own weird hairstyle.
He was scared. He didn't know these people, much less the place he was in. He tried to look for someone who can understand Russian but no such luck. It would give him a hard time to understand their language. "Pssst! Hey you!" Says a young man with an English accent. He could tell since Krul had sent servants for him to learn the English language in case something happens. Thank God, he mustered English. "Do you where we are?" Mika asks in his Russian-ish accent. He hopes that his English and accent is understandable because he didn't know any other language aside from Russian, German, and English.
"Not a clue." The man says, scratching his head. Even he was clueless about their location. He supposed that he'll just have to find out soon. The metal door came open and two people, with features of those people from the south western of Europe. He knew these features.
Ah yeah! Spanish. Are they in Spain? The two spanish men wore uniforms - military ones with a rifle slinging at their backs. A crew of a Spanish flag was engrave on the brooch pinned on their chest part of the clothing. A flag with yellow overall and a red linings on the top and bottom. A shield-shape alongside with two white pillars and a crown on top of the shield. He didn't know Spanish. Krul never had time to let him learn European languages so it might take him for a while to understand each other.
He just hopes that they understand English much.
"Gather around. Fall in line while exiting. No pushing! Everyone in this room must present their passport." The guard with almond eyes looked menacing. Not a word of the man said had engraved in Mikaela's mind. He ushered himself towards the man he recently talked and asked if he understood what he just said. "He said to fall in line. We're leaving this room, I guess. Probably already in our destination." The man picked up his belongings, taking the lead in falling in line. Mika did the same grabbing his small booklet. The Russian text of Passport was in it. He looked at his document. The name Mikaela Tepes printed in fancy script. Putting it back from his pants pockets, as he goes to the long line of people waiting their turn to be released in this place.
Hours, minutes, seconds have passed and finally it was Mika's turn. He couldn't see the man he'd talked. A shame, he had forgotten to thank the man for helping him with the language barrier. Looking closer, Mika could see the visage of the soldier. He had a mean look in his eyes like he was so bored in his job. "Pasaporte, Señor?" The man asked. Mika gave his before looking closely at his document. The man tried to elaborate the writing but cannot. He looked Mikaela from head to toe. He was conscious, he hoped that there was nothing wrong with his appearance.
The second soldier finally spoke up - asking in rigid English. "What is your name, Señor?"
"Mikaela Tepes. Nineteen. Russian" he replied causing the Spanish soldiers to scowl. Muttering something in Spanish. He was going to learn Spanish no matter what, he promised himself. Slapping his passport in stomach. He winced in pain. They were strong. "You stupid fucker!" he screamed in Russian but was stopped by a hostler of a gun on his head. "Get out of this place, enemy of Spain. Be grateful that we are welcoming an enemy here in Manila." His back been kicked by the guard. The people around were...not bothered by it?
Why? Don't they have any sympathy? Yet why do the people ignore such a horrible display of cruelty? He didn't understand this country.
This was more outrageous than Russia. How could the government is allowing these actions?!
"Get up Russian refugee!" the man yells, still kicking Mikaela in his stomach. Wincing in pain, the blonde was fuming with rage. Great... a horrible country, with a worthless type of government. Krul didn't mention to him nor was he informed about this godforsaken country. He just hopes that he'll be able to survive living here.
"Where to go now?"
Acquiring his abandoned suitcase, Mikaela starts to wander this new land. The air had that tropical breeze — a much different from what the blonde was used to. A mixture of heat, and calm breeze. The orange-y sky announces that it was almost sundown. Trees were all over the place with greenery pasture and animals. People wearing haystraw hats in protection to the heat while holding a fist of grass leaves as they put their muddy hands and plucking it on the dirty puddle. The stench was horrendous. There were a big stack of... Mikaela doesn't even want to know anymore what were those but the fact that this place - this country was weird.
Culture and people wise.
The house were...simple. It was made from bamboo woods, hay and... wood? How could people live in such a houses? He also saw stone-made houses but those were still different from what he was used to Russia. Yes, he would still compare everything and anyone to his homeland because that's just how it is.
People were dressed funny. Men wore black coat tails and sleeve shirts while the women were long ridiculous skirts. Way longer that it was almost touching the ground. Even the skin color of the body was different from him. A tan - no - it wasn't tan, it was more of a blend of brownish tan like they were used to the heat.
Mikaela was drenched in sweat. He didn't like this weather. He kept dragging his feet away. Hoping he could find a place to stay for the night until he could find a permanent house and learn the ways living in this place. It wasn't that long that Mikaela fell on the ground, a loud thud was heard. His clothes came flying on the ground. Rubbing his bottom, Mikaela screamed a big and say some bad words to the person who bumped him. "Pasensya ka na, hijo. Hindi ko sinasadya— sandali lang... Hindi ka Filipino. Your features... I see..." The man then spoke a language that Mikaela recognized. It was Russian. This man knows Russian! He finally looked at the perpetrator's face.
A man with tanned skin wearing a white sleeve shirt and black slacks. The black suspenders hung loosely in his side. His face was old, with experience. Black hair perfectly slicked up sideways. Black orbs that tells Mikaela that he was definitely from around here.
"You... You know Russian?" said a baffled Mikaela. The old man chuckled, amused at the Russian's expression. Offering his hand, Mikaela grabbed the hand and was pulled up to the ground. "Ahaha. Of course, young man. I know all twenty-seven language but enough about me. I can see that you've just arrived here and from the looks of your face tells me you have no place to go as well."
"I...I-"
Growllllllll!
Mikaela's entire face was in deep rich color of red. Embarrassed about the behaviour of his growling stomach. He didn't realized he was already this hungry after coming. The stranger laughed at Mikaela's face. "Oh dear, we better get you a nice decent meal as well. I do hope you dont mind staying at a stranger's place? Do not worry, I wont do any harm like from what you have witnessed some time ago." He says with that endearing smile. The Russian couldn't help but trust this person. He knows Russian. He must an educated person to know twenty-seven languages and from the aura he gives had made Mikaela feel at ease.
Plus, he would not reject an offer giving him a place to stay together
The man told Mikaela to grabbed his things on the ground before he could heard children shouting. "Doktor! Bilisan niyo na po. Naghihintay na po kami para sa susunod natin klase."
"Papunta nako." Replied the stranger and the children snickered with excitement and left. The blonde Russian, still dumbfounded on what they were saying but from the looks of their faces, they were expecting this man's presence. Said man helped Mikaela in putting his clothes back from its suitcase. Also offering to carry his luggage. He was kinda embarrassed because a while ago he wants to curse at the person and now he is offering Mikaela a place to stay.
How the tables have turned.
"Come young man."
"Mikaela."
"Huh?"
"My name is Mikaela. Mikaela Tepes. What about you Sir?"
The stranger cringe at the question. He didn't know if he had said something wrong or not. The man just looked back at Mikaela. Eyes that tells you not to pry over trivial things. "I prefer to have my name a secret, Mikaela. But all of the children like those," pointing the retreating figures of the children. "They call me 'Doctor'. I do hope you understand my sentiment." There were so many questions in the Russian's head.
Why is this man so secretive about his name? Why 'Doctor'? Is he some kind of a criminal in here? But who was Mikaela to judge? At least, he had found someone who will help him in this country, that much he was already grateful. He nodded and the Doctor smiled. But there was still something that was bothering. He figured that he still doesn't know the name of the place.
"Doctor." He spoke up making the man halt from his walk. "What is the name of this country?" The Doctor could only smiled. Painted with pain and misery. Why does a person has a face like that in his homeland?
"Welcome to Filipinas, young Mikaela Tepes. A slaved colony of Spain."