She's A Little Runaway

Chapter 1: Almost Too Long For A Prologue

(A Fire Emblem fanfiction typed entirely by The Chosen Storyteller )

No one knew how the church of Naga was formed and depending on who you ask the holy figure herself was a dragon of divine origin – of which there were others like her – maintaining order in many worlds that connected together with the same inhabitants just in different set ups in life. This world, earth, required her human form to look the most normal so that's why all the artwork around her locations depicted her as a beautiful woman usually glowing blue for censorship purposes if not given a dress depending on the artist's own sense of style.

Then if you asked the nonbelievers, they'd tell you someone got wasted with their friends and looked at one of them who just happened to be a beautiful woman named Naga. They were so enamored by booze they called her a goddess, and she had a big enough ego to roll with it and create a religion based around herself.

As someone born into a spiritual family who also claimed holy protection, Inigo didn't know what he believed one way or the other. He wasn't creative enough to go with the multiple worlds theory, but it didn't seem unlikely someone could be so vain to build a religion to themselves; there were some bold people in the world.

Inigo was only nineteen, but he was expected to inherit his family's house of worship if older sister Lucina didn't want it. It was a very particular order: their father and aunts' parents were dead so they weren't candidates, then their father and Aunt Lissa both denied wanting that heavy of responsibility so it fell to Aunt Emmeryn and their mother could potentially step up, but her shyness instantly struck that idea down.

Currently, Aunt Emmeryn's usual partner Libra was sick and couldn't make his shift so someone in the family needed to sacrifice a Saturday night to stay around the church building and take care of the upkeep and potential visitors. Inigo didn't understand why visitors looking to repent or find peace would need them hovering over creepily but didn't dare speak up when Aunt Emmeryn was in earshot.

This wasn't a new thing; Inigo could recall past occurrences of helping out here in high school. Back then, Lucina didn't have college to occupy all her time, so she spent a shocking amount of free time here. She always claimed she wanted to spend as much time with her family as she could; sometimes she looked at the largest painting in the main worship room – Inigo couldn't be bothered to learn the term – or pottery with Naga's design.

Gods, Inigo's mind was wandering from boredom, and he'd only swept past the third row of pews... But to get back on track: he could almost hear his and Lucina's high-pitched child laughter as they played tag. That was back before Lucina seemed willing to believe the idea fate was controlled by a mystical woman. Inigo wondered if he was more difficult to convince because the idea was contradicting everything that happened was already arranged, so a powerful being decided what good and bad things would happen without balance. Everything that was said or done was fated to be. However, there were potentially worlds where fate was challenged. That could apply here, but one would have to be ready to destroy years worth of tradition to prove it.

Could Lucina destroy fate by turning down working here, leaving Inigo to do the same and give Naga's house to... Who? Random government people? That sounded like a fate worse than death.

Inigo's neck itched from the annoying pale blue robe he was required to wear when working, fighting with the sleeves as he shoved the broom beneath a particular pew that had a stash of unopened potato chip bags hidden. He didn't care. This place could be handed to the government, maybe even demolished but he couldn't say the childhood memories were enough make him have a sad reaction. He and Lucina made memories in many other places; the ones here weren't that special in comparison.

Getting lost in better times helped improve his sweeping pace, surprisingly. It brought some energy which was more than he could ask for these days due to having lost his small group of friends to time and his family simply not having time to meet up.

It was probably hard to believe, but Inigo was a shy kid. He took after his mother in that way, although his father put his foot in his mouth all the time and couldn't always regain control of weird people. Inigo still had shyness, but he felt like he contained a lot of it now. Blushing and fidgeting were here to stay, but at least most people he ran into were sympathetic enough not to point it out as long as he kept the conversation flow.

Child Inigo always hid behind his parents or older sister as if they had the power to block out these weirdos or intense atmospheres. He probably wasn't exaggerating; the family was a magnet for weird people, long-time friends of Chrom and Olivia and their children and others. His overwhelmed young mind did, however, exaggerate a lot of situations to be a hundred times scarier than normal. Anxiety? A proper diagnosis needed to be made, but it's looking likely.

Child Inigo wouldn't have believed that his feeble attempts to make friends would actually pay off. Yes, his friends consisted of cousin Owain and the children of his parents' friends, but they were a strong group. Lucina being a part of it helped ease off stress; she always had encouraging words, even when sternly explaining why someone gave him a funny look after attempting to express himself.

But many relationships don't last forever, so Inigo wondered why he felt unsatisfied to lose contact when he definitely expected it after hanging out at the favorite restaurant or park didn't create a burst of happiness to chase away the teen angst.

Missed calls.

Accidentally planning two events on the same day.

Cousins aren't expected to be that close, but Owain made as much time for him and Lucina as he could.

Inigo's long-time friends were initially only encouraged to spend time with him and Lucina due to their parents' friendship.

Ignored calls.

There's just not enough time in the day anymore.

Aunt Lissa texted with too many emoticons, but she was just asking if he needed help on his driving test.

Aunt Emmeryn texted overly formal, a habit Inigo picked up, but instead of giving encouraging words to get him through the day asked if his parents were free to help with repairs since they didn't seem to have heard their phones ring.

Less weekends going out, spending time with people.

More stress about grades and the future in general.

Inigo never doubted his attraction to girls, but was it normal to crush on so many or was he lonely?

Rain could be heard coming down hard. Inigo found himself at the final pew, dustpan full again. Sighing to himself, he wondered if he would have done anything better tonight. Did he have friends to meet at the bar? A date to cuddle up with during a movie? He could use the free time to better himself- Ugh- Maybe learn a language or study new dances. But no. Tonight's schedule was looking to be held together with tape on notebook paper: clean this building few will care what state it's in, then go to bed.

Inigo traded his broom for a cloth and approached just one of the Naga-covered pots on the stage. He crouched, staring into eyes supposedly full of wisdom. She held out arms as if beckoning loyal followers into her godly embrace, give them comfort and protection. Had he ever believed in her? Maybe if he wasn't afraid his life hadn't stalled the day, he turned thirteen. It sounded dramatic AF, but lately he couldn't help thinking it was true.

Something happened the day after his thirteenth birthday, but the memory escaped him. It was either tragic enough he intentionally forgot, or it simply wasn't important in the moment until the day hindsight came around to slap the back of his head. He had all night to finally uncover it, but he hadn't any luck so far.

The happier memories were top priority, it seemed. Inigo let a long sigh make his chest quake, hesitant to get lost there again. He could hear Aunt Emmeryn humming tender versions of decades old rock songs as you do, the tune of one surprisingly intensifying the nostalgic feeling. He couldn't recall the name or the band if his life depended on it, but there was an old friend he thought time completely threw out of his memory collection.

He hadn't seen her since they were preteens, which was a shame considering they were getting along naturally without their fathers' supposedly eternal bond encouraging them to be close. It's probably toxic to assume one should be a carbon copy of their parents, but that's a subject for another time because Inigo gladly launched himself full speed at the past.

"You're ready to talk to the kids by yourself?" Mother asked, crouching to his level.

Mother tried not to show it, but behind the very necessary large fringe covering half her upper face her forehead wrinkled worriedly. Her arms had always been the place to run to when efforts to speak to the other kids blew up, but today that wouldn't be necessary. Inigo hoped, at least.

At nine years old, Inigo gathered all the fake confidence he could manage to lift his head and just nod to his mother's question. Because if he spoke, well, best save his voice for asking someone to play. He'd never been overly fond of the arcade unless his parents or sister were in sight, not necessarily due to the loud noise of games but rather... The fact everyone else was somehow managing to have fun, usually with kids who they'd never met before nor would ever see again.

Mother gave him a warm smile regardless, placing a decent number of tokens in his expectant hands. She didn't have to say anything... If she did, she'd make him worry more. Inigo was pulled into a quick hug before listening to Mother explain where she would be if he needed anything, then she was gone... But not without constantly glancing over her shoulder until he stopped doing the same thing walking into the chaos that was children let loose powered by junk food.

Inigo had been practicing talking a little louder in the mirror all week, which seemed to pay off when the kids who actually stopped and apologized for bumping into him attempted to hear him out as he fumbled over an invitation to play. However, they would either get pulled away by someone they knew or get bored and left as his words stalled.

He didn't know how long he wandered around, tokens weighing in his hand. The worst thing that could have happened was kids outright ignoring him... At least they spoke or stared, though most were too busy lining up for the more popular games. Two kids in particular – they looked like sisters – were shoving each other to get to a single player video game first, they wouldn't listen to another girl who was attempting to get in the middle and preach about the benefits of compromise and compassion before getting elbowed out of the scene so forcefully she crashed into Inigo.

Inigo and the girl cried out, bodies colliding and both their token supply scattering all over the floor. No one else seemed to care; minor injuries were a given here. Still, Inigo felt tears brimming from both the impact to his shoulder and side along with the dropped tokens and just... Everything. He refused to cry, though. Held the tears back with all his strength as he steadied the girl who looked younger than him, groaning and rubbing her jaw as some distance was put between them.

The girl's hot pink hair was stuffed in a short ponytail with a scruffy fringe, brown eyes wide and studying him, her t-shirt was faded as her jeans and her shoes were a size too big. Inigo really focused on her shoes, afraid of letting her see his face.

The girl gradually lowered her gaze to the ground.

Then she gasped.

"Oh! Let me help you pick those up!"

"You don't-" But the girl didn't listen to his feeble, shaky words and instead hurriedly gathered the tokens.

Inigo was taken aback, suddenly standing their hands full of tokens again. He was sure she had placed the majority of hers in there but was too busy looking from them to her distracting eyes. One might call them crazy, but he couldn't. Now that he realized how pretty they were, he-

Pretty?

The girl seemed to read this mind, but not for the right thing. She vaguely gestured to his open hands and the token pile within. "Father gave me too many, so I'm gonna make the most of it! I need someone to spend all these with so... You'll do!"

"Wait, I don't know-"

The girl dramatically gestured to herself with a wink. Like cartoon stars should have been flying out. "Just call me Morgan. I mean, you kinda HAVE to because that's my name."

Inigo felt beads of sweat on his face, rapidly looking between her and the tokens. It was all overwhelming, but he didn't hate it. No, this- This was amazing. He couldn't immediately think of how to keep it going. Should he introduce himself? Of course.

"I'm... Inigo." So, that sucked.

Morgan made a noise of approval regardless, arms lifted somehow not dropping the few tokens in her hands. "We're partners now, Inigo!"

And they were. For three hours, they went all over the arcade like they owned the place burning through tokens and not worrying about having to beg their respective parents for more because Morgan had a way of confusing the other kids into trading.

It all went by in a blur, but Inigo didn't want to run back to his mother for once. For once, he felt like he had a friend although they never used the term. To Morgan, they were like people on the same sports team required to help each other because it's an idea that's strong enough to have lasted since ancient Greece. Morgan went on tangents just like that, and Inigo often had no idea what she was trying to say but happily listened in between button mashing to victory.

The background noise of rambunctious children, stomping, clicks of buttons, young Morgan's increasingly baffling logic and 8-bit music faded in the instant Inigo opened his eyes. He was honestly disoriented, arms full of the neatly contained religious texts forgotten at the podium.

It would have been typical if the night dragged on like that, the next time his eyelids shut he would be in his room staring at the ceiling still wondering how to improve his life. Though he honestly wouldn't have much hope for a change.

Change, however, hit fast forward and burst through the front doors. The candle flames swayed from the gust but didn't extinguish. It was dark and rainy, but not enough to cover the slightly below average height presence in the doorway. Even a room away, Inigo could see hot pink hair in a slightly frizzy bob and animated movement.

TBC