Hey, remember when I said that you could expect a chapter a week? I lied. I'm sorry. And, no, I didn't realize I was lying at the time, and I honestly thought that I could get out a chapter occasionally, and then... I discovered how HARD it is to update on a schedule. And then a bunch of stuff happened, I got a job that steals my weekends and writing time, I've been super duper ultra uber busy, blah, blah, blah. But, wow, five months? I'm so, so sorry, and I hope you guys haven't forgotten me. Anyways, here's Under Gray Skies, Part Two, yada yada yada, and I hope that I haven't made you all hate me, if you gave a darn in the first place.
Enjoy, hopefully!
Shoutouts to ExposedWiresExposedVeins, Raphiael, And Gunlord500!
Prologue:
Under Gray Skies, Part 2
Nevassa used to be a glorious sight, a massive borough, merchants and bazaars everywhere, selling wonderous rainbows of items that would appease any greedy soul. Children would run laughing through the narrow streets and alleyways, enojoying their freedom. Neighbors were friendly, to a large extent, always willing to lend a hand to a person in need. Nevassa, despite it's appearence of a military barrack, was a world of it's own, filled with everything from alchemists to craftsmen, all who would openly welcome an apprentice, or someone who yearned to better their country through knowledge. True, the people were wary of outsiders, but that was common sense, especially during the war.
Of course, that was three years prior, and now the Daein Keep was a filthy cesspool, slick with grime and dirt, overflowing with disease and rodents. A citizen could not walk two miles through the streets without being mugged or stopped by pleading beggars. Dogs and other animals wandered the streets, pitifully whining and pawing at trash in an attempt to sooth their aching stomachs. Most animals were likely seen keeled over on the side of a street, the defined ribs being one of the most noticable characteristics; the other being the crows pecking at their eye sockets.
The war had brought about desperate times, in which the thin peace and prosperity had deteriorated until only miniscule, shining threads were left. The war had left an ugly blemish on the face of Tellius, a festering wound on the already blemished history of the continent.
Perhaps, when war is declared, in a frenzy of hotheaded rage, the wager forgets to consider the possiblity of defeat. And yet, in nearly every battle that has occured in history, there is a victor, and a loser. That principle has not changed since the beginning of time itself. Very rarely has a conflict been worked out without the eradication of a population. But yet, the late King Ashnard of Daein hadn't considered the possibility of loss, the chances of his country being overtaken and destroyed. He hadn't thought of the fact that he may very well die. And that is what had brought the downfall of Mad King Ashnard, drunk on his insane thoughts of immortality, looking down on the world from atop his mutilated laguz mount. He had unwittingly brought the downfall of his country, though whether he cared or not come the end of his reign was a mystery.
And, oh, how far this city, this country, had fallen.
The populace had become desperate for survival, their oppressing occupiers doing naught but burning any spirit remaining until it was only ash floating in the air. The sky was flecked with the despair of innocent people, the white dust dispersing and overtaking, obscuring the sun.
Any joy was scarce, any celebrating all but abolished. The Begnion occupation army was slowly, painfully, agonizingly obliterating the once proud country of Daein.
Merchants overpriced their goods in an attempt to get money to feed themselves and their families, but most had left town in hopes of finding somewhere with richer clients to scam. Artisans only worked for high fees, limiting the amount of beauty in Nevassa.
And so, it is here, in this hopeless wasteland of a once-bustling city, that we find two of our heroes, two shining threads, blazing rays of sunlight, a young man and woman, neither looking older than fifteen. The boy was a dapper young fellow; all dimples and bright eyes. His spikey, messy brown hair fell into his eyes and he casually blew upward to clear his vision. He tapped his foot impatiently, every once in a while glancing over at his companion, who was surveying a merchant stall selling fine scarves and shawls. He pretended to look busy, brushing off his leather chest plate and tapping his brown boots against the gravel street. Unlike the dreary garb of most civilians, made of dull marroons, grays, and blues, the boy was clothed in bright, cheery hues of scarlet, yellow, and brown. The only thing that suggested that the boy wasn't as innocent as his large expressive brown eyes and large smile told, was the iron sword hanging on his belt.
Clad in a dusty brown cloak, his companion sifted gently through the wares of the merchant, who was curiously, but inconspicuously trying to get a glimpse of the girl's face, hidden from view by her cloak. Though, many years later, the man always swore he had seen a flash of silver, when he retold the tale of that day to his posterity. Tan boots with red lacings graced her slender legs, over black leggings, and the tip of a split burgundy skirt was visible beneath the cloak. The girl settled on a scarf of rich royal blue cotton, and, satisfied, grasped it in her gloved hand and handed the merchant his pay. Nodding to the boy, she stepped into an alley and removed her cloak, just in time for her companion to enter behind her. She handed her tome (a light beige book with a worn binding and several intricate patterns decorating the cover) to the boy so that she could handle the scarf better.
Now that the girl was visible, it was clear to the eye why she had hidden her features from view. Under normal circumstances, the girl would have been ordinary, perhaps on the better looking side of the spectrum, if not for her golden eyes and silver locks. A blue ribbon, almost the same color as the scarf, tied two strands of her hair behind her head, in an attempt to clear her vision. Clear eyes of golden yellow blinked as she took her scarf and placed it on her head, obscuring her oddly pigmented hair in a makeshift hood. She brushed some dust off of her dark red dress and wrapped her scarf once around her neck, so that it fanned out behind her, like a split cloak. She tugged on her black fingerless gloves, securing the ties concealed beneath white hems. The boy handed her the tome, which she gratefully took.
"Sothe's not gonna like that," the boy lazily commented, leaning against the wall of a ruined building. He stood up straight once more, however, when he noticed the suspicious dark splotches dotting the stone. "And Leonardo probably won't either."
"And why is that?" The girl asked, with an air of calm surrounding her. She continued through the alley, emerging through the other side and merging with the bustling crowd gathered in the street. The boy sighed and followed, noting how easy it was to spot the cerulean scarf.
"Because it's so noticable," the girl rolled her eyes and navigated through the city with little to no effort, in which the boy followed confidently, and it was clear that these two were experts, knowing the city, all the back streets and boulevards, like the backs of their hands.
The duo came to the town square, in which the landscape was made of two levels, connected by a staircase.
"Well, it's less noticable than silver," the boy contemplated this, and gave up with a shrug, an easy smile lightening his face. After several minutes of overlooking the merchant stalls and common folk, however, the smile disappeared, leaving a pout in its place.
"Hey, Micaiah, when's Leo gonna get here?" Micaiah sighed, almost as if she had been expecting this question for the entire time.
"I don't know, Edward. I also don't know when dinner will be, or the exact time at which the sun will set, or when Begnion will finally realize they're destroying us," Micaiah frowned, a sullen look storming her features, "because some things are just unknowable. You know that. Besides, I can only see possible futures, very rarely is one set in stone."
Edward threw his hands up in a pitying gesture and rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright, I was just wondering. I didn't mean-" His protests were cut off as a loud clatter resounded through the air, catching the two companions' interests. They peered down the staircase, only to be nearly knocked off their feet by a woman and her son, a small, malnourished boy, perhaps seven years old. The woman, out of breath, grabbed Edward by the shoulders, her face contorted in consternation.
"Please... You must help... Bandits..." Her son took her hand, prying her off of the startled boy and faced Micaiah and Edward.
"Bandits are attacking the town!" The child explained, clearly panicked, but in that simply heartbreaking fashion that only true innocence can accomplish. Micaiah knelt, gazing at the boy. Her golden gaze seemed to calm the child, or, at least, seemed to capture his attention.
"What happened?" She asked, addressing the boy's mother and standing once more.
"Bandits stormed the square. They're robbing everything in sight," the woman explained, slightly less frazzled. Edward nodded.
"And where would the occupation army be?" Edward asked bitterly, more of a sarcastic remark than a question. They all knew where the army was. Not in the square, that was for sure. The woman scoffed.
"They couldn't care less. I wouldn't put it past them to encourage those ruffians."
Micaiah and Edward exchanged a glance and nodded. Micaiah clenched her tome and Edward eagerly gripped the hilt of his sword.
"Listen, we'll stop those guys. You just get to safety," Edward instructed the woman, whose face became conflicted in a mixture of relief and worry.
"But... You're just children! You're not the Dawn Brigade," she exclaimed, concern lacing her voice. "You'll be slaughtered."
Micaiah and Edward shared another knowing glance, and Edward gave a smile.
"We'll let you in on a secret," he lowered his voice, and his audience leaned in, rapt with interest. "We're actually members of that same Dawn Brigade." The mother and son blinked several times, and the boy shrank down, suddenly very shy. Micaiah knelt down in front of him.
"Now, what was your name?" She inquired gently, and the boy peered at her.
"N-Nico," he stammered a tad, and Micaiah smiled gently at him.
"Alright, then, Nico. Listen, I'm counting on you to get your mother to safety, okay? Find a safe place to hide, and don't come out until hear the Begnion soldiers," she knew that, by the time the occupation army got its act together and carted it down to the square, the bandits would be long gone. Micaiah felt that would be a safe time to come out of hiding. Nico nodded, this time with renewed vigor, a hardened steel of determination lining his wide, youthful eyes. He took his mother's hand and led her down the street, where pedestrians were catching on and retreating into their homes, barricading doors, etcetera. Standard protocol, in the current times.
Micaiah and Edward spared no time in hustling down the steps and drawing their weapons, coming to face a semi-large group of thugs, all muscles and leather and fur- and no brains, Micaiah and Edward came to the same conclusion.
Seeing that they were going unnoticed, they murmured to each other a battle plan.
"So, you'll weaken them from afar and I'll take them out? Just like in practice?" Edward confirmed, referring to one of the Dawn Brigade's training bouts, back in the old dilapidated fort, abandoned only two nights ago, thanks to the invading Begnions. Micaiah nodded, but uncertainty shadowed her face.
"Edward, should we really do this? It'll draw so much attention to us," Edward stared at her incrediously, and furrowed his brows.
"Did you really just ask that? Of course we have to help! These people are in trouble, we have to help them! And, farsight or not, you know we'll win," he added for good measure. Micaiah nodded, and a flicker of a smile crossed her face.
"Leonardo will be upset," she warned, more than argued. Micaiah knew that a fight was inevitable, she just felt like trying. Edward laughed at this reason.
"All the better! Come on," he said, readying his sword, as the ruffians began to finally began to notice the two.
"Hey, look who came to join the party," one of the thugs slurred, hefting his axe on to his shoulder.
"A couple 'a kids decided to be heros!" This sent up a bout of raucous laughter, and the bandits carried on, tearing merchant stalls apart, stuffing the goods into coarse burlap sacks. A small orange bird lighted down onto Micaiah's shoulder, and she took the bird upon her finger.
"Yune! There you are! Where have you been?" She gently chastised the creature, who twitted comfortably. "It's not safe here at the moment. Go find somewhere safe," the bird chirped several times in agreement and fluttered away.
One of the bandits looked Micaiah and Edward up and down, like he was surveying a sack of meat.
"Well, I guess you two would sell fairly well on the black market. Hey, Pugo!" One of the bandits, looking slightly smarter than the rest of the crew, turned as his name was called. "How much do you think that these two would- AH!" The thug cut off in an agonized scream as a delicate, graceful, avenging stream of light burst down upon him, scarring his flesh and welding his shoulder guard to his arm in a blistering mess. He didn't have time to turn or see the amount of damage the light had done before he was run through with an iron blade, and fell to his face in the dirt, dead, his blood spotting hte ground. The bandits watched in astonishment, as the two teens launched their attack, before retaliating, clumsily swinging their axes and swords in wide archs, missing the nimble duo by wide margins each time. An unseen breeze blew Micaiah's hood off her head, and her silver hair, vivd and gleaming, made the identity of the teens known to the band of ruffians.
Micaiah and Edward proved themselves to be a formidable team, cutting down enemy after enemy, remaining close enough to aid one another, but far enough apart to not be a hindrance. That is, until Micaiah was severed from her partner by an astonishingly large goon, wearing a hungry smile and fingering a massive axe. The silver-haired girl didn't hesitate in attacking with her light magic, but to her dismay, it was dodged easily. She gulped.
Fearing the worst, she was backed into a stall, could see the shine of the lifted axe, gleaming in the sun, the metallic scent of blood tainting her nostrils, and-
The whizzing of an arrow, and the sickening sound of penetrated flesh, the thud of a body hitting the ground. Micaiah looked up, astounded, and saw, to her great relief, a blond, blue-clad boy, the same age as her and Edward, bow at the ready, perched at the top of the staircase. He raced down the steps and hurriedly plucked his arrow out of the dead bandit's skull. He turned to face Micaiah, whose face was alight with relief.
"Thank you, Leonardo! I thought-" she trailed off, seeing the boys usually soft eyes darkened with irritation. Leonardo's yellow hair fell to the top of his shoulders, and the boy carried himself in a way that suggested he was from a long line of nobility. However, nobility or not, he had given all he had into fighting the Imperial Occupation Army as a member of the Dawn Brigade.
"What is going on? I'm just a few minutes late, and I get here to see..." he sighed, exasperated. Leonardo noticed Micaiah's questioning glance and explained. "A little bird told me where you were. To the best of its ability," he glanced towards the sky, and Micaiah followed his line of sight, to see Yune passing by overhead.
"Well, it's about time! Now, if you're not too busy, would you mind giving me a hand here?" A sarcastic call came from across the square, where Edward was being kept busy, parrying and blocking, swinging his sword this way and that in an attempt to keep all the remaining bandits at bay. Leonardo smirked and exhaled once more, readying his bow. Micaiah chose to head into the fray, preferring not to leave Edward on his own.
Arrows flew, beams of light danced, and the cold metal of swords flashed, and soon the battle was over, no one left but the leader, Pugo.
"Tch. Who do you even think you are!" The man had answered his own question the second he saw Micaiah's hair. An ugly snarl ripped across his scarred features, adn he lifted his axe. "Do you think I'm gonna be taken out by the likes of the Dawn Brigade! And you call yourselves thieves! I'll show you a thief!" He launched himself at the nearest person, being Edward. The boy, startled, leapt out of the way of the axe, which embedded itself in the stone pavement, narrowly avoiding the boys foot. An arrow whizzed through the air, firmly fixing itself in the man's shoulder. He yelped in pain, and struggled to free his weapon.
"O light, gather Open my path..." The ancient tongue of the herons passed through Micaiah's lips, both graceful and terrifying, though the words were only known to her. She lifted her hand into the air, and a growing ball of pure sunlight appeared. She inhaled and launched it at Pugo, hitting him square in the chest. It forced a ragged, bloody hole into the man's chest upon impact, and Pugo screamed in agony.
"Edward!" Leonardo called his friend to attention, who blinked and realized that it was his duty to deliver the final blow. In one swift movement, he lifted his sword above his head and brought it down on to the bandit's neck, severing his spinal cord. Pugo's head rolled to the ground, a bloody, terrified, suffering expression still plastered on it.
The battle was done, and Leonardo began to collect his arrows from the corpses of the ruffians, all the while chastising Edward and Micaiah, the former cleaning his blade and the latter praying to the goddess Ashera to give the deceased a peaceful ride into the afterlife.
"Why would you two even do something so reckless? You could have been injured, or worse, and then where would we be? You need to think these things through!" It wasn't clear which teen he was addressing, but nobody needed a hint to know that the solitary archer of the Dawn Brigade was mad.
"Um... Excuse me? Did you defeat all of these men?" The trio turned toward the voice, the woman from before. Nico hid behind her leg and peered at the group, determined not to notice the carnage around him. Feeling very exposed all of a sudden, Micaiah fixed her hood once more, covering her hair. Edward nodded, as did Leonardo. Nico blinked several times, and a wide grin burst forth on to his features.
"Really! That's amazing! The Dawn Brigade is so cool!" The three smiled, thankful that such a young soul appreciated them. "Hey, when I grow up, can I join the Dawn Brigade too?" Micaiah appeared thoughtful, as if she were contemplating the idea. She sank down, so that she was looking the child in the eye.
"I really hope that, when you grow up, there won't be a need for the Dawn Brigade," she said almost sadly, but continued. "But if there is, then sure." Nico grinned, joyously bouncing on his heels.
"Thank you," the boy's mother smiled, a wistful, sad smile, as if she wished that there was no need for the Dawn Brigade as well. Any response from the three teenagers was cut off, when a masculine shout sounded from the second level of the town square.
Edward cursed, then covered his mouth, glancing in alarm at Nico. However, any sign of the boy hearing the swear was obscured, as his face was tilted toward the upper level. Leonardo grabbed his friends' wrists and took off down an alleyway, shouting his thanks and goodbyes to the mother and son, just as the first glimpse of orange armor glinted in the dimmed sunlight.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going!" Three soldiers clad in identical armor halted at the top of the overlook. Cursing, they did not pursue the fleeing trio, as they were already out of sight, but merely shouted threats at their retreating backs.
"What is going on here?" A contemptuous drawl sounded from behind the soldiers. A man with greasy red hair and matching armour came into view, his grip tightened on a lance. He was followed by a mammoth of a man, with richly tanned skin and dark hair, clad in the standard soldier's armor. The soldiers exchanged glances, and one of them stepped forward.
"G-general Jarod, Sir, those theives were escaping... We have reason to believe they were the Dawn Brigade, and we invaded their hideout several days ago, but they escaped..." Not knowing how to continue, the man trailed off and prayed to the goddess that his commanding officer would understand. However, that was not so.
"They were escaping? And why did you not chase them?" Receiving no answer, Jarod, disgusted, drove his lance into the nearest soldier's stomach. Blood spattered the ground and leaked from his wound, and the man wheezed his last breath within minutes.
Shocked, the dead man's companions numbly carried his corpse away from the scene, with silent orders to catch the thieves.
"Well, this should be fun," the remaining man, the large one that accompanyed Jarod, said with a smirk.
"Exactly. And I have a feeling that this will be a very good hunt," was the only reply, and Jarod looked out across Nevassa, narrowing his eyes and smiling in sick anticipation of the blood to come.
In the dark alleyways of Nevassa, the three thieves ran through the shadows, hiding and waiting for their moment to strike.
Okaaay! So, it's not exactly April 2nd anymore, but, meh, details-schmetails. I'm pooped, so I hope you enjoyed this.
Okay, Sorry for going on a depressing tangent in the beginning. Whoops.
One of the stupidest things I ever saw in FE10 was the fact that Micaiah's hair was so prominent, and yet, they did nothing to cover it! That's why I made her scarf a shawl. I also don't think that dwelling on her brilliant silver-y-ness would ease her Sue-ness.
Please feel free to correct me on any mistakes I make, and please review! But be nice. I ain't going to go trollin' on anyone, so you don't either.
The next deadline is April 20. Promise I'll update!
Reviewer Responses:
ExposedWiresExposedVeins: I hope your haitus went well. Thank you. I try to be as detailed as possible. I fixed the sentence, and you're right, it was terribly awkward. I would have explored the minds of the characters in this chapter, but honestly, it's five o'clock in the morning and I'm beat. I'll edit it later, I promise. I will add more things to the novelization, after all, if I just went by what was happening, you'd know what was going on at all times, and what was going to happen, and that'd get a tad boring, wouldn't it? Yes, well, Micaiah was the very first FE character I ever played as, so I'll always like her. But I agree, aren't all the protagonists Sues/Stus in their own way? Micaiah's Sue-ness might just be a little over the top.
Raphiael: Thank you! I agree. She has many flaws, yet many people can't get over the silver thing. What's the big deal? I mean, they do concentrate on it a little too much, but it's still pretty, in my opinion. I don't plan on adding a whole plethora of stuff, just enough to give the characters a bit more, well, character. Thank you!
Gunlord500: Thank you! I will add a tad of stuff, more background history (that FE10 was majorly lacking) than anything else. Thank you!
Alrighty then. Good night!
Sincerely,
Russetwing