Chapter Text
~Spring, Begnion Era 625~
"It's all right, Micaiah," her father soothed, holding her to his chest. Micaiah squirmed. They were so scared. And sad. The way he pulled his coat tighter to block out the winds didn't change how scared he was. How angry he was.
"How much farther, my love?" Her mother asked, she was tired and very scared.
They had been walking for such a long time. Hiding from others. Sleeping on the road. But the outdoors was so nice. Much nicer than being inside all the time. Even if it was so cold.
"We passed the road leading to Nevassa a few days ago. We should be at the temple soon, dear," he replied.
"Are you sure it's safe?"
"Mother gave her the Dawn Staff when she appointed her as the archbishop, told me it was because the goddess wanted us to always be able to recognize a close friend in times of need. And Daein's not a particularly religious country, so I think we're safer here than in Crimea."
"Right."
Micaiah squirmed again, reaching her tiny arms out and wrapping them around her father's neck, hugging him. "No sad, Papa."
Her father chuckled softly and rubbed her back. "It's okay, Micaiah. It's okay."
It certainly was not. She didn't really know what was going on. There had been a lot of screaming and shouting before they had left home. Someone had hurt her mother, and her father had fought someone else off and then healed her mother.
Micaiah's wrist still hurt from the way one of the guards had grabbed her and tried to pull her free of her father's grasp.
And grandmama Misa was dead. She had fallen to the floor, coughing up blood and fallen into a big pool of it, which had stained her long silver hair. Micaiah sniffed and buried her head in her father’s chest, holding onto him tightly.
"It's all right," her father said again, bouncing her a little as he pulled her arms down and cradled her again.
She didn't believe him, because he didn't believe himself.
---
"Archbishop, some travelers from Nox to see you," an older priest called out as he led Micaiah's parents towards the altar of a worship hall. It was much smaller than the hall at home, not as bright or pretty, either.
The woman standing at the altar in front of a statue of the goddess turned around. She had bright blue hair and bright blue eyes. She was light and kind and gentle, like grandmama.
She looked curiously at the three of them for a moment, before looking back at the priest to address him. “Thank you, Emmanuel.” She turned back to look at Micaiah and her parents. "Let’s go talk, shall we? I’m sure you’ve traveled far and could do with some rest and perhaps some warm food and drink." She said with a smile.
“Thank you, we’d appreciate it,” Micaiah’s father said.
The woman nodded and looked back at the priest, “Could you ask Brother Corrado to bring some refreshments for them?”
“Of course, your grace,” the older priest said before he walked away.
The woman waved for Micaiah's parents to follow her out of the hall and into a room. There were many potted plants in the room, some with big bright flowers.
"Prince Maynard," she said after she closed the door, "It's a surprise to see you, but a pleasant one."
"Lady Elena," Maynard said, and sank down in a chair. "It's such a relief to have made it here safely."
"You've heard about what happened?" Oriana asked, setting Micaiah down on the ground, and she toddled over to her father, grabbing onto the fabric of his robes over his knees. He smiled briefly at Micaiah, putting a hand on the back of her head.
"Yes, you have my condolences for your loss," Elena said, with a great sadness in her heart, "I’m told that the senate is still looking for Apostle Misaha's-"
"It was the senate," Maynard snarled, causing Micaiah to jump at his sudden anger.
"The senate?" Elena gasped.
"They-" Maynard groaned, sitting back in his chair. "I don't really know for sure, but I know it was them. They hated mother so much for defying them, complicating their lives by emancipating all of the laguz slaves."
"Well, they certainly are not the chosen saints of the goddess, as they proclaim themselves to be," Elena said, anger in her voice and her heart, "But what happened?"
"Mother had wanted to confront them, about lies they had been telling for centuries, about their corruption and greed and cruelty and blasphemy of the goddess. She didn't tell me everything before she went to speak to them, just that ‘what we all had been forced to believe was a sin wasn't so’ and the next night, she was killed." Maynard closed his eyes, a few tears falling down his face. "She had seemed so happy too, like she had a new lease on life, even though she'd been preparing us nonstop for her death for the past two years."
"I'm so terribly sorry to hear that that happened, Prince Maynard. And you will find safe harbor here, you and your family, of course," Elena said. "But why did you come to me?"
"When Mother selected you as Archbishop, she said that the goddess was very clear about you being the best of her followers. She entrusted an artifact our family has had since before the theocracy was founded to you. I- Even the commander of the Holy Guard turned against us. I didn't know who else I could trust." Her father sat back in the chair, resting his head in his hand. "I was able to get us out safely, but it took everything I had. I couldn't stay in Begnion, we'd be found too easily. And I couldn't go to Crimea, their ruler has to bow to Begnion, but I doubt I'd be safe petitioning the Daein king for help."
"Probably not," Elena said, "The king isn't very honorable."
Her father laughed, bitter. "You're very honest, Lady Elena."
"Lies very rarely help anyone." Elena sighed.
Her father smiled, tired, and leaned forward. "Anyway, Lady Elena, I'm not asking for shelter for myself. Staying here would cause problems, eventually. Daein doesn’t care for the theocracy, but I’m not foolish enough to believe I wouldn’t be recognized. But when I was thinking of people in Daein I thought I could trust, I could only think of you."
"What are you asking for then?" Elena asked.
"News of Micaiah's birth has been kept a secret in Begnion's inner circles for the time being. I know of a place Oriana and I can hide, but Micaiah's too young to live on the run, and if the Senate's assassins catch up to us, I want to know that she's going to be okay."
"What are you saying?" Elena asked.
"We want to leave her with you," her mother said, "So you can keep her safe. So few people know of her existence, no one would ever know who she is outside of Sienne."
"They want to kill Micaiah too?"
"The assassins turned on us immediately after killing Mother. I think the Senate no longer wants to put up with a mouthy apostle telling them that they're doing the wrong thing. Not only have they always hated the words of the goddess, they think only of themselves and their own pockets. I can’t believe it took me so long to see it."
"Please, Lady Elena, Micaiah is my world," her mother said, starting to cry, "If it can be arranged for us to meet again later, once we're sure the senate can no longer find us, I'd love to have her back, but for now- I need to know that she's safe. That she can't be found and hurt."
"Momma," Micaiah called out, starting to cry herself.
Her father lifted her up and turned her around, holding her and rubbing her back. "It's okay, Micaiah."
She shook her head. It was not okay.
"The road is hard and dangerous, and Micaiah's only two years old. I can’t put her through that, but we can't stay here. Someone would recognize us eventually. You have to know that's true."
"I do," Elena said, she was sad and soft and warm, "I'll take care of Micaiah for now, and make sure she's safe."
"Thank you, Elena," Maynard said, "I really had no idea who to trust. But I knew my Mother had a great deal of faith in you, when she gifted you that staff. Maybe the goddess had her do that so I'd know to come to you."
"I will do everything I can to keep that faith," Elena said, "But, there's a group I'm familiar with that operates in Begnion and Daein that I think would help you."
"What group is this?"
"They're an underground network of beorc that helps laguz, freeing slaves and saving laguz from hunts in Daein. I- I'm part of it. I've saved dozens of laguz from hunts and through this group, gotten them to a safe place to live. The people in charge are very good people, I don't doubt that they would help you."
"Oh, you think so?"
"I know so. The Boss was a very close friend of my grandmother, and has always looked out for my mother and me as well." Elena sighed. "You're more likely to be recognized in the temple, I can send you to a safe house in Talrega, if you'd like."
"I'll have to think about it, but, for Micaiah's sake, keep her here. If things go well, we'll come back for her when things are safer."
"Right. But, one last thing, The Boss and the others in charge are Branded. You won't have a problem with that, will you?"
Maynard laughed bitterly and shook his head. "If I did, I'd have to hate my own mother and daughter too."
Elena’s eyes widened. "What?" She asked, only just louder than a whisper.
Maynard looked down at Micaiah and then picked her up, pulling her into his lap and took the glove off of her right hand, showing the really pretty marking on the back of her hand to Elena. "Mother had the same brand," he said, "But it skipped me. The senate was extremely disappointed it came back with Micaiah."
Elena gently held Micaiah's hand and smiled softly at the girl, a deep sadness in her heart. "I see. I had no idea that was the case."
"The senate keeps it a secret. Could you imagine the outrage if the people found out that the lineage of the apostle was tainted by laguz blood?" He sighed, putting the glove back over Micaiah's hand. "Though I really have to wonder how much the goddess hates the Branded, if she still chose to speak with my mother."
"I've- I've long questioned those teachings myself," Elena admitted softly. She reached out a hand and tousled Micaiah's hair and rose. "Now, in Talrega you're looking for a town called Oakenford, you want to go to the tailor called Lana and ask where you can get a quill. They may try to redirect you somewhere else, another store, but tell her that you've heard she sells fletching there, and so you think you can get a quill. She'll hide you after that."
"Oakenford in Nox, Lana the tailor, Quill, Fletching. Got it," her father said. "Thank you, Lady Elena." He hugged Micaiah tightly. "Goodbye for now, Micaiah. Do everything that Lady Elena tells you to do, and we'll see each other again before too long."
Micaiah's mother took her and held her tightly as well, still crying. "Be good, Micaiah. We love you so much." Micaiah's mother kissed her on the forehead. "You're such a great little girl, and I'm so lucky to have you. Until we meet again, keep yourself safe and know that we're only parting so that you can be safe. None of this is your fault. You're the best daughter we could have asked for."
Micaiah was too young to really remember her parents as she grew older. Their faces and their names and where they came from were lost to her. All she knew was that they loved her dearly, and that they were gone. When she was seventeen, she knew she would never see them again. She felt it the way she felt everything.