Another crosspost from my AO3 account! Hope you enjoy!
In the 1980s, Yao wrote a book.
As the oldest living nation, he was the one that all the nations came to when they had a question about nationhood and how they and their bodies worked. After a bunch of micronations popped up in the 20th century, Yao got fed up with constantly being contacted to explain things about nationhood, so he wrote a book detailing everything he knew about nationhood and sent a copy to every nation.
In his book, titled A Comprehensive Guide to Nationhood, he wrote the following about the origins of the nations themselves:
It is uncertain why nations are created, or what purpose we serve, but nations can come into existence by two ways: spontaneous genesis or birth.
Spontaneous genesis is exactly what it sounds like, and it is the most common way that nations come into existence. We simply appear one day, in the middle of our territories, around three physical years of age, fully clothed, and with knowledge of our native language(s) and culture(s). Due to the unpredictable nature of spontaneous genesis, there is no explanation as to how or why it happens (what I want to know is where the heck do the clothes come from?!). My best guess is that it is some sort of magic, or scientific processes too complex to be comprehended by current means.
The second way is by birth, the same way humans come into existence (I think we all know by now how this happens, and if you don't know, you are too young to be reading this book). This method is much rarer than spontaneous genesis, as it requires another nation to impregnate/be impregnated by a human, an already-rare event (it can happen, though! I recommend you always use protection, just to be safe!). The new nation can be the child of an already-existing nation, as was the case with nations such as Ancient Greece and Greece, but nationhood can also skip a generation, in which case a nation will be born to the human child of another nation. This was the case with Ancient Rome and the Italy brothers, to name an example. The nation is born as a normal newborn baby and grows like a normal human up until the age of three, where the child's development will then usually plateau. Depending on the economic growth in the new nation's territory, the child's development can also speed up or stay at the same rate as a human's.
What Yao didn't mention was that an exception to these two methods of coming into being existed.
Erika Vogel, or the nation of Liechtenstein, was born to a completely-human family.
Erika's lineage was well-documented, both on the Internet and in other sources. Her mother and father were Anna Maria Antonie and Joseph Wenzel I of Liechtenstein, and her grandfather was Anton Florian, the Prince of Liechtenstein at the time of the land becoming a principality. The rest of her grandparents and great-grandparents and ancestors could also easily be found on the Internet. Even her siblings, as short-lived as they all were, had their names emblazoned onto a webpage for posterity.
Information about Erika could not be found on any webpage. Nowadays, the United Nations tried to keep the existence of the nations an absolute secret, which meant erasing all traces of them from recorded history. Even if the UN didn't do that, Erika didn't think she would have shown up in history records anyways. Father made sure that as little people knew about Erika as possible once he realized that she was different.
It took her family at least four to five years to realize that she was a completely different being than them. From the very beginning, it was evident that Erika was different in some way. At first, they just assumed she was a strange child. She was abnormally quiet and shy, speaking in a quiet voice when she spoke and only speaking in actual sentences to Mother, Father, and her nanny. She only spoke in a few-word utterances to others and didn't have much interest in social activities, preferring to play alone most of the time.
In addition, she had an intense gaze. She would always stare off into space or at objects or people with such an intense look that it made people uncomfortable. It was not on the level of Mr. Sweden's, which genuinely scared people, but it definitely was unnerving. Mother used to joke that Erika's gaze reminded her of that of a doll's. Erika never understood why people were weird about her gaze. It was just her normal face. But for whatever reason, people found it weird.
At the age of three, Erika stopped growing. It wasn't until the age of four when her parents grew concerned. They thought she was malnourished at first, and fed her more, but the extra food just served to make her more plump, doing nothing to help her grow. Her behavior and speech skills stagnated as well. It was like she was permanently stuck at the age of three, while her same-age peers grew and matured as normal.
When she was four or five, honestly she couldn't remember at this point, Erika caught tuberculosis. The disease ravaged her small body, quickly leaving her at death's door. She remembered laying in bed for days on end, too weak to even eat or drink, shivering and sweating and coughing. Sometimes her nanny would come in and put wet cloths on her forehead and neck to try and quell the fever, while Mother would hover above Erika, looking down at her with worry in her green eyes. Occasionally, she would stroke her hair in an attempt to comfort her as Erika lay there suffering.
After two weeks of misery, Erika died for the first time. Death felt like a comfortable, relieving sleep to her, like the type of sleep you sleep after a long day of traveling or physical labor. She woke up a few days later in a strange box. Feeling better, she sat up and asked for water.
At the time, Erika did not understand why her nanny screamed and ran from the room, or why Mother immediately clung to her and sobbed, kissing her forehead over and over. She did not understand why Father left and returned a while later with a priest, who splashed holy water on her and chanted in Latin, and why they looked so confused when nothing happened.
Later, Mother told Erika that everyone thought she had died, and that she was, indeed, dead for a while. She had woken up at the beginning of her own wake.
Everything changed after that. Erika and her family realized that she was immune to aging and death, and they made their best effort to hide Erika from the world after that. Father was afraid that people would think Erika was demonic or possessed, and he forbade Erika from ever leaving the palace ever again. Her own funeral continued on, without her, and after the strange box, her coffin, was put in the crypt in an unmarked spot, Erika was never mentioned to outsiders by her parents ever again.
Erika hated not being able to go outside. She loved the outdoors, loved feeling the warm sun on her skin, loved breathing the fresh air that blew down into the city from the Alps. The couple of times she had gotten to travel outside the city into the countryside, she had loved all the plants and animals she saw, the beautiful scenery, and how open everything felt out there.
The prospect of never being able to go outside ever again depressed her, and she became a much less happy child, rarely smiling. Mother attempted to make up for this by ensuring Erika had a lot of toys, but it did little to lift Erika's spirits.
To keep herself entertained, she imagined herself a land far, far away. A small land, nestled in the mountains by a great river, with castles and plenty of fresh air, plants, animals, and sunshine. She felt drawn to this land, felt it beckoning to her from so far away. She longed to run away to it, to run through the countryside until she reached it, but she was an obedient child and stayed where she was.
Many years went by. Erika and her living conditions stayed the same, while Mother and Father both grew older. Sometimes, Mother would give birth, but the resulting child never lasted long, essentially leaving Erika as an only child. Only one of the children, a boy, lived longer than a year.
When he was home from his various military campaigns, Father was distant towards Erika. From the beginning, he wasn't the most affectionate towards her, but as time went on, he started practically ignoring her. He rarely talked to her, and when he did, it was after Erika initiated a conversation, and his responses were short and clipped. Erika got her socialization from Mother and her new nanny (the old one never returned after fleeing).
One day, Mother and Father heard word of a man who was like Erika. He did not age, always revived after dying, and was relatively well-hidden from the public eye. He too lived with a royal family, living in the Hofburg Palace with the Holy Roman Emperor and his family. They decided to invite this man to Liechtenstein Palace, where they lived, to meet Erika.
Erika remembered the day she first met Mister Roderich Edelstein clearly. She most remembered it not only because it was her first time meeting another nation, but because it was the first time Father voluntarily spoke to her in a long time.
She remembered Father himself coming to fetch her from her bedroom, taking her by the hand and leading her to one of the staterooms. When she asked him why he took her there, he told her that he wanted her to meet someone special.
Mother was already in the stateroom when Erika and Father arrived. She looked anxious, fidgeting with one of her necklaces, but as soon as she saw Erika enter, she offered her a comforting smile.
Not too long after, the mysterious visitor arrived, examining the ornate decorations of the stateroom as he walked in. He looked to be fairly young, in his late teens or early twenties, with brown hair that would have been neatly-combed if it weren't for the stray strand of hair sticking straight up from his part. He wore a white jabot with a blue-violet coat and matching pants, and rectangular spectacles framed his well-proportioned face.
His gaze made its way over to the three, catching Mother's in particular. The man's brow furrowed for a brief moment, before returning to a facade of neutrality. Mother, on the other hand, transformed. Her already-pale skin blanched even further, and her eyes grew huge. Her lips parted and she made a strangled sound as she looked at the visitor, then at Erika, then back to the visitor again. It was like she couldn't make up her mind whether or not she wanted to look at him or at Erika.
Mother's behavior in that situation still baffled Erika to this very day.
Father strode up to the visitor with a jovial smile on his face, taking his hand and shaking it. "Mr. Edelstein! I'm so glad you were able to join us today!"
He gestured to Mother. "This is my wife, Anna Maria Antonie."
"Pleasure to meet you," Mother said, rushedly curtsying. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I've taken ill all of the sudden."
She rushed out of the stateroom, leaving Erika all alone with Father and this strange man. She kept her eyes on the stranger, wondering why Father wanted her to meet him and what was so special about him.
Father then gestured to Erika. "And this, as you may have guessed, is Erika."
The man turned towards Erika and she froze, feeling shy. After being isolated for so long, meeting new people felt weird to her. The man walked closer to her and leaned down, getting to her level.
"Hello, Miss Erika," he said. His voice was polite and smooth, with an even tone. "I've heard a lot about you."
Erika didn't respond, frozen in place just staring at him. He had a mole just below the left corner of his mouth that moved when he talked. For some reason, it was fascinating to watch.
"Erika, staring is rude," Father reprimanded her, before addressing the man again. "My apologies. This is a frequent habit of hers."
The man ignored Father. He extended a hand towards Erika to shake. "My name is Roderich Edelstein, but you can call me Mr. Austria. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Erika looked at his hand for a moment before tentatively deciding to shake it. She reached out her tiny hand and placed it in Roderich's.
Her skin made contact with his, and a strange tingly feeling spread in Erika's palm where it was touching Roderich's. Instinctively, she knew that he was someone like her.
She was no longer alone in her existence.
Erika gasped, looking back to Roderich with wide eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up.
"Just as I suspected."
Father tilted his head in confusion. "Suspected what?"
It was then and there that Erika first learned the truth about what she really was. Roderich explained to her and Father that he was the immortal personification of Austria, and that Erika too was a personification like him. He theorized that Erika was the personification of the principality of Liechtenstein, based on the fact that it had become a principality the same year Erika was born and that she was born into the Liechtenstein royal family.
Things made more sense for the young Erika then. She now knew why she didn't age and why she couldn't die. She also now knew why she felt the connection to the far-away land. So it wasn't a fantasy after all.
Just as Roderich finished his explanation, Mother came back into the stateroom, still looking a little pale.
Roderich gave her a polite nod, before addressing Father. "I would like to discuss the care of Erika with your wife, if you don't mind."
Father nodded, before turning and leaving the stateroom, mumbling something about needing the restroom.
"Erika, dear, could you go back to your room?" Mother asked.
Erika nodded and walked to the room's door, but before she left, she turned back around.
"Goodbye, Mr. Austria." Her voice came out as a near-whisper. She gave him a little wave, which he returned, before she padded back to her room.
From then on, Roderich would start visiting their home about every month. Whenever he was over, he would tell Erika about being a nation and what it entailed. He told her stories of his past and about the history of both Austria and Liechtenstein, Erika's land. He told her about the other nations that he knew about, and how he felt about each one of them.
Erika would cling on to every word he said, not fully comprehending much of it, still having the mind of a three-year-old, but enjoying his company and the fact that someone other than Mother and her nanny was interacting with her. His visits became a break from the monotony of her everyday life. They became something to look forward to.
One visit, he brought a map. He showed Erika Liechtenstein on the map, as well as the other nations that he had talked about previously. For the first time, Liechtenstein seemed real to Erika. It was an actual place she could travel to. It didn't just exist in her mind and in the abstract.
Another visit, he brought his violin and played for Erika. Mother joined them too, sitting and watching. Erika danced to his music, spinning around and around, squealing with absolute glee and laughing. The delight that the music brought her flowed through her body and into her hands, and she wiggled and waved them as she danced as a way to express that delight. Her joy was contagious and by the end of the little concert, Mother was laughing and even Roderich, usually serious and stony-faced, was smiling.
The other nations always said that Roderich was unapproachable. Rude. Uptight. Stuffy. But he had been nothing but kind to Erika from the beginning. She never understood why they said those things. Sure, he was a stringent rules-follower, and he could be socially awkward and a little grumpy at times, but he wasn't mean-spirited. Not at all.
The years turned into decades. Mother and Father grew older, and at long last, so did Erika. Ever so slowly, she aged into a four-year-old, and then a five-year-old. Now that her motor skills and intelligence were more developed, Mother started to teach her how to read and write. Erika picked those skills up quickly and soon was reading simple texts on her own.
As the years went by, Roderich's visits became less and less frequent. Erika didn't know it at the time, but the country of Austria had hit some rough times and was involved in many wars. Roderich would go months, sometimes even a year or two, without visiting, and when he did visit, he was visibly stressed. He looked thinner and paler, and his violet eyes held a weariness that even Erika could see at her young age.
Eventually, Roderich stopped visiting completely. Erika waited for him for years, having a little bit of hope every day that he'd come back, but after several years, she accepted the fact that he wasn't coming back. She sobbed when she finally accepted this, terrified that she was now alone in her existence as a nation again. Mother, who now looked more like her grandmother than her mother, couldn't console her. Erika ended up crying herself to sleep in her arms.
Mother was the only consistent person in Erika's life. She was the only one who had been by her side since she was born, and the only person to show her constant love. Her love for her never wavered, even after it was apparent that Erika was a different type of being. Even when Erika would have her occasional spells where she'd just scream and cry for hours, Mother never once raised a hand against her or made her feel bad for acting the way she did. Erika hoped Mother knew just how much she appreciated her and loved her back.
Unfortunately, Mother's consistency didn't last forever. One cold January night in 1753, Mother passed away in her sleep. She had complained of chest pains the day before, and with her modern-day knowledge of medicine, Erika guessed that she had probably died of a heart attack.
It was Father who woke her up the next morning and told her that Mother was dead. Erika was inconsolable. She cried and cried until her throat was raw and her eyes burned.
This time, no one was around to comfort her. Erika was all alone now.
Father let Erika attend Mother's wake and funeral. It was the first time in many, many years that Erika had left the palace. She would have enjoyed it more if it weren't for the grim circumstances.
At all the services, Father distanced himself from Erika. Nobody knew he had a still-living daughter and he wanted to keep it that way. Thankfully, one of the family's servants who knew of Erika was merciful enough to let Erika hold her hand for the duration of the services. Erika was well-behaved at the services, up until the priest interred Mother's coffin towards the end of the funeral. As he sealed her permanently behind a stone wall, it hit Erika that she would never see her ever again. The sorrow burst out of her and Erika let out a scream that echoed in the vaulted stone walls of the crypt, tears streaming down her face again. The servant had to pick her up and remove her from the crypt.
To make matters worse for her, Father had a nasty surprise waiting for her when they got home. He announced that he was sending her away to Liechtenstein to live with some friends of his. Erika would finally get to go to her land, at the cost of being torn from the only home she had ever known.
He packed her stuff, and the next morning, Erika and her things were loaded on a carriage, and they set out for Liechtenstein. Erika's last glimpse of Father was him standing outside of Liechtenstein Palace, wrapped in his winter coat, watching the carriage disappear into the streets of Vienna.
She never saw him again. He ended up dying in 1772, two decades after he sent her away.
Erika wasn't alone on the carriage. There was a wealthy couple who were traveling to Liechtenstein too. They tried to make conversation with Erika, but she wasn't interested. All she wanted to do was stick her head out the window and watch the city shrink behind them as the carriage made its way into the Alps. The winter winds whipped at her face and hair, blowing her golden braids around and freezing her to the core, but she ignored it, watching her childhood home fade in the distance.
Two weeks later, the carriage crossed the border of Liechtenstein. Erika knew immediately when the carriage crossed the border. Every cell in her body felt energized, and she felt more alive than she ever had. A sense of arriving home burned in her chest, and despite all the misfortunes she had suffered in the past few weeks, a smile made its way onto her face.
She was finally in Liechtenstein. The land she had dreamed of visiting for so long. Her land.
It turned out that the couple that traveled with her were the friends Father had talked about. They had a manor in Vaduz, the capital, and Erika lived with them for many years. They were kind people, but they didn't love Erika the same way Mother loved her.
Erika would not know love like Mother's love again until she met Basch. Her big brother.
Basch, or the country of Switzerland, was another nation that the other nations spoke badly about, but that had been nothing but kind to Erika. Erika did not deny some of the negative traits they said he had, but he was loving towards her. He saved her from oblivion back during World War I, when she was certain she was going to die for good.
She loved him. He loved her. They were brother and sister. They were family. No force on Earth or beyond could ever take that away from them. They were bound forever, if not by blood then by their bond of love they had created.
Erika and Basch had similar features: both had blonde hair the same shade, as well as green eyes and similar facial shapes. Back before she was shut away, people used to say that Erika looked just like Mother. Basch looked a bit like Mother, too, but it was unlikely he was related to her. Like most nations, he was born by spontaneous genesis. Nobody knew if he was related to anyone by blood.
Although her origins were well-documented, Erika wondered how she came about the way she did. How come she, a nation, was born to a completely-human family? Why was she an anomaly?
Little did she know that she was less of an anomaly than she thought. And that all it would take to bring everything to light was a simple DNA test.