A/N: Oh my gosh. I WROTE GENFIC. It was inspired by an odd onesided Nolan/Micaiah thought, but it came out genfic. Based off the designer's notes on how the Dawn Brigade was formed. Also, I think I should win an award for the creativeness of the title, you know. Just being modest!

Words: 2642
Characters: Nolan, Edward, Leonardo, Sothe, Micaiah
Time: Between Path of Radiance and Radiant Dawn
Genre: Action/Friendship

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Nintendo, not me.

"There they are! Get them! Get them!"

Nolan ducked by chance, wincing at the shouted words, and he heard a spear whoosh through the air where his head had been mere seconds before. Lady Luck was on his side today, it seemed, though she had obviously been distracted a few minutes earlier when the Occupation Army had discovered them. Perhaps it was too much, what they were doing; freeing prisoners from the city labor camps was too unrealistic a task for a beaten old man and two inexperienced boys to hope to accomplish. Freedom was, then, not quite in reach. The Bengion soldiers crushed all hope of mankind's redemption in Nolan's eyes. It was just as it had been before.

Two little heads bobbed in front of him, and he made sure to keep them in sight as he ran, though it was difficult in the darkness of the early morning. The boys were so vibrant with life and hope and determination. Yet here they were, pressed with death at their heels and danger on every side.

"No!" Edward yelled.

Three soldiers had cut them off, appearing as if by magic on the street in front of them. Edward backtracked at once, but Leonardo was not so quick; a sword crashed into his shoulder, and he fell to the ground with a scream.

Now it was Nolan who yelled. "No! Get back!" he ordered as Edward tried to scramble back to his friend. Hefting his axe, Nolan slashed through the soldiers closing in on their front, aware of a trembling Edward guarding his back, but the pursuing soldiers' footsteps were getting ever closer. They were trapped; it was all over. He was going to die here for trying to resist, and he wasn't even going to die alone; he was going to have the death of two boys filled with promise lying cold on his racing heart –

In a tiny lull in the flow of soldiers, Nolan knelt and lifted Leonardo across his shoulders, wincing at the warm blood that cascaded over him. More soldiers appeared in the distance, just barely visible. Nolan met Edward's wide eyes through the darkness and found he had no idea what to say to him.

"Quick. In here!"

A man's voice, still warm with youth, whispered in Nolan's ear.

"Hurry!"

Nolan turned and followed without question. There was no time to hesitate. He grabbed Edward's hand and glanced up and down the street. He could hear the soldiers just around the corner, but if they were fast – if they were lucky, then perhaps they would be gone by the time the soldiers reached this place. The boy who had spoken so urgently was motioning them towards a tiny slit between two tall, rough-hewn stone buildings. The alley entrance was blocked by rubble and wooden crates, but the green-haired, shabby-clothed boy crawled nimbly though what little space there was, and Nolan and Edward followed his lead, though rather less elegantly. Once they were through, the boy shoved a few more crates over the sliver of space.

"Follow me," he said again, and set off down the dark passageway. Nolan noticed one of his hand was clenched tight around a knife at his belt. His steps were quick and light, like a street thief. They were barely four paces from the hidden entrance when Nolan heard the Bengion army thundering past.

"Do you think they saw?" Edward whispered. Their rescuer shook his head.

"They'd be on us in a second if they had. Come on, follow me. Don't waste time."

The alley grew even narrower and darker, and Nolan had to walk sideways, awkward with an injured boy across his broad shoulders. He noticed suddenly that Edward still hadn't let go of his hand. "He'll be okay," he said softly, trying to convince himself as much as Edward.

Wherever they were was clearly familiar to the street thief, for he set a swift pace and never once tripped over loose cobbles or stray debris. "In here," he said at last, when Nolan thought he'd surely get stuck if the passage got any narrower. The boy lifted a ragged flap of fabric to reveal a room with an assortment of makeshift furniture, a few books, a small pile of food and supplies, and a magical sort of light hovering in the center of the room, illuminating it all. Most of the room was dull and gray, but the light reflected suddenly off a flash of silver in the corner, and Nolan tensed at once, imagining readied weapons in the shadows.

It was not a sword or an axe that emerged from the darkness, but a girl, a girl with shining silver hair. Even in the odd half-light, she was breathtakingly mysterious. Her golden eyes were wide as she gazed over them. Her hand went out immediately to Sothe, who took it, but her eyes remained fixed on Nolan, Edward, and Leonardo. She seemed to know, without being told, exactly who they were. It was both enthralling and unnerving.

"Bring him over here," she said, motioning to a straw pallet behind her. Thin blankets lined both it and the floor beside it. "I'll do what I can."

"Micaiah, you aren't - " the thief-boy said suddenly.

"I want to help them, Sothe," she said.

His arms trembling with exhaustion as he laid Leonardo down, Nolan stared at the young silver-haired girl, who had knelt next to them. Edward sat at Leonardo's head, his eyes wide and terrified at the paleness of Leonardo's skin and the dark quantity of blood across his shoulder and arm. Nolan realized too with a horrified shudder that his shirt was soaked with Leonardo's blood.

The girl, Micaiah, rested her hand on the wound. She didn't seem nauseous or afraid.

Part of Nolan stirred with unease; these were strangers with his friends' lives in their hands. But another part of him was desperate to trust someone, anyone, and the boy had saved them, hadn't he? And did they really have any other choice? It was either trust them, and Leonardo might live, they might live; or refuse their aid and lose any hope they have of surviving the occupation.

"Who are you?" he said at last. The words were wholly inadequate for all the questions in Nolan's mind, but it was all he could manage.

She didn't take her eyes off Leonardo. Her small, gloved hands continued to explore his wound as his breathing grew shorter and shallower, and he moaned weakly, trembling. "I will tell you in a moment," she murmured. "Please, let me heal your friend."

Edward looked desperately at Nolan. On the straw, Leonardo shuddered again, gasping, and Nolan's mind was made. He closed his eyes and squeezed the boy's hand. "Do it," he said to Micaiah. "Please."

She didn't waste a single second on a nod. Her hands began to glow with the same eerie light that illuminated the room, a warm bluish-white, and a stream of bright magic seemed to connect her heart to Leonardo's wound. The light flooded out of her, and by sitting next to her, Nolan could feel power and warmth tingling against his skin. With a deep breath, the girl closed her eyes.

Something very strange happened then. In all his experience, Nolan had never seen something as strange as this – the girl, this Micaiah, whoever she was – was healing without medicine, without staves, without even a tome to aid her. The magic was inside her. As she breathed, her chest rising and falling with forced steadiness, so did Leonardo; the tremulous pace of his breaths gradually beginning to match hers in smooth serenity. The gaping wound on his shoulder grew less violently red. Skin, pink and raw, formed from nothing and filled the cut, leaving nothing but a pale pink remnant of the wound that had, mere seconds ago, been pouring life-threatening quantities of blood. Slowly the blue light faded from the room. They were all plunged into darkness. Nolan felt the girl collapse against his arm.

"Micaiah!" The boy, Sothe, called out. After some rummaging, a grimy oil lamp, courtesy of Sothe, illuminated a small sphere of light around them. Sothe set the lamp on the floor and lifted the trembling Micaiah into his arms. "Micaiah, how many times have I told you – you can't keep using all your energy like this!"

She stirred feebly at last. Her golden eyes fluttered open, and she smiled, looking up at Sothe. He helped her to sit straight. Shivering, she rubbed her shoulder with a bloodstained hand, then looked over at Nolan, Edward, and the sleeping Leonardo. "How is he?" she asked.

"All right," said Edward, brushing Leonardo's hair from his face. "Just sleeping, now, I think."

"I'm glad," she sighed. "See, Sothe? We did something good today. You brought them here, and I was able to help." She turned her strange gaze on Nolan. "Do you know why Sothe offered you assistance and showed you here? I think… now that the danger has passed… I think we should try to understand one another. Could you… share your story with us?"

Nolan and Edward exchanged a quick glance. At last, Edward gave a nod, and Nolan understood. He figured, too, that they had very little left to lose; they had only each other, after all, and these two people, mysterious as they were, had undoubtedly saved them. Perhaps there were other in the world that he could trust.

"My name's Nolan. This is Edward, and Leonardo's the one you just saved. We've been fighting," Nolan said shortly. "Fighting Bengion. The slime that's invading our streets, enslaving our countrymen… I can't stand it. We're trying to do whatever we can to mess them up. It's not much, but we've done things like cutting their horses free, burning their supplies, freeing the odd prisoners here and there… But today, we took on too much. We tried to break open the labor camp they built where that old school used to be, not too far from here. It's heartbreaking, what they do in there, the mindless work. It's like Bengion's having them dig their own graves…"

Vaguely he registered Micaiah's rapt attention. When he paused, she gave him a small, sad sort of smile, and it comforted him somewhat. "Please go on," she said quietly.

"Not much else to tell. They caught us. We ran, we had no other choice, but we were outnumbered and cornered… When they got Leonardo, I thought we were done for." Here Nolan nodded at Sothe. "We would've been if not for you. So… that's our story. We're nothing special, not like your magic." He turned his gaze back to Micaiah. "We just want Daein to be Daein again… the Daein we used to love."

Her eyes, to his astonishment, were now gleaming with tears. "You are very special," she said, and she was smiling again. "Sothe and I… Not too long ago, we realized someone else was fighting. We've been trying to find you, to contact you… We have the same goals. We want Daein to be free again. I have lived here for a very long time, but… it was only recently that I grew to love this place. And then Bengion came. Now they are trying to take away all I hold dear – the spirit of the people of Daein, their strength, their joy. Sothe and I have been working like you have, but with little success… we are not enough on our own. I am very glad we found you at last. You are special."

Spellbound by her words, Nolan only realized she had stopped speaking after a few moments of silence. But it was Edward who spoke next, in all the idealism of youth. His face gleamed with excitement.

"Then let's join up!" he said eagerly. "Come on, all of us together – if we work hard enough, we'll be unstoppable, right? Bengion won't stand a chance!"

Micaiah laughed a little. "Well, what do you think?" she said, turning to Sothe.

"I've been trailing them for a few days," Sothe said. Nolan couldn't quite muster up any indignation; his heart was pumping so fast at the possibility of having found allies in this dangerous city. "They seem trustworthy. They're smart and able. I was impressed, to say the least."

"From Sothe, that's very high praise," smiled Micaiah.

"It's the truth," Sothe said with a shrug.

"And you?" continued Micaiah. "Nolan, would you help us? Edward and Leonardo, too?"

Edward bounced to his feet, drawing his blade sloppily but excitedly. "Yeah! I'm all for it!"

"Watch the weapon," growled Nolan, and Edward had the grace to look sheepish and sheathe his blade. Nolan turned back to Micaiah, smiling a little himself for the first time. "Those two boys have enough enthusiasm to make up for their inexperience, I promise. I'm just here to make sure they don't get themselves killed. But I won't deny it, it would be nice to have some help. Maybe we'd actually make real progress if we worked together."

As he spoke, he noticed natural light, rather than magic or fire, beginning to brighten the sky, just visible out of a single, grimy, half-broken window on the opposite wall. Morning had finally broken once he fell silent. The sun peeked over the windowsill, nearly blinding them with shimmering warmth.

"We should have a name!" said Edward.

"Dawn," murmured Micaiah, staring unblinkingly at the bright sun.

"Dawn it is," repeated Sothe, in a similarly soft voice, but his eyes were fixed upon Micaiah instead.

"The Dawn Brigade," said Micaiah. She turned back to Nolan. The sunlight against at her back made her silver hair glow like a thousand diamonds. "We need a leader, too. I think it should be you."

Nolan blinked, taken aback. "Me? But you just met me – you aren't serious?"

"Yeah!" said Edward. "You're the oldest, Nolan. You know the most. You've saved me and Leonardo more times that I can count – it's always you who comes up with the best ideas – people listen to you."

"I'm fine with that," Sothe said, shrugging again.

"Nolan?" asked Micaiah quietly.

He looked anxiously at Edward, who was urging him on with eager nods, and Leonardo, who was still resting peacefully. Even Sothe seemed curiously hopeful. And Micaiah seemed the most anxious of them all to hear Nolan's response, and after what she had done for them, Nolan knew there was no way he could refuse. "All right, then."

"Excellent!" grinned Edward. "Oh, I can't wait till Leonardo wakes up – there's so much I want to tell him. We're the Dawn Brigade!"

Micaiah rose to her feet and came over to Nolan, who was still kneeling on the ground. She extended her hand to him – her clean hand, the one without Leonardo's blood – and he took gratefully, standing up as well. For a moment, she didn't let go of his hand. "I know there is still a great deal to explain," she said. "But I am glad we met, Nolan. I think we can do much good together."

"I think so too," Nolan said, and to his own astonishment, he realized he was speaking the truth. Their alliance, their Dawn Brigade, small though it was, seemed to have renewed his hope once more. Micaiah's answering smile was as bright as freedom itself to him.