It was an Accident

by Neptune1018

Summary:

When England loses control of a spell, a nation is hit and things quickly go awry. A spell previously only used on war criminals is unleashed upon a nation and their friends, family, and acquaintances must watch as their life is unraveled.
This work is going to take some time to finish writing.

Notes:

In this book, America's character is not the cannon America. The creators of hetalia could have taken many routes when developing the character and I don't particularly agree with the route that they took. For starters, my head cannon version of America is a red headed female named Amelia that looks like the picture below.

Chapter 1: 1.

America's POV:
As my surroundings gradually faded back in around me, I opened my eyes to find myself on my living room couch. I closed my eyes again and stretched out, lifting my arms above my head and feeling a satisfying series of pops in my back before dropping them back down. I felt my right hand land on something solid, more solid than the couch, and warm. Recoiling my arms immediately, I opened my eyes in surprise to see what was on the couch with me. I looked to the right and saw my friend Denmark half-laying on the cushion beside me with his head faceplanted onto the armrest. As soon as I saw my friend, sound asleep next to me, my mind recovered from its early morning haze and memories of the events of last night and prior returned.

My best friends, Prussia and Denmark, invited themselves over yesterday after the meeting and ended up staying the night after hitching a ride with me to my house. We had all fallen asleep in the living room watching a movie, its main menu screen still displayed on the TV and casting a blue light upon the three of us. Prussia must have had one too many beers while we were catching up because, as I looked over, I saw that he was face down on the floor next to Denmark's and my feet.

I chuckled as I  got up and carefully walked around Gilbert, trying not to step on him or wake up either of my friends. I made my way upstairs to get ready for the day upon seeing that it was just after four in the morning and if I know my life there's no chance of being able to get back to sleep.

Once I reached my room--not having made a single sound I might add--I got dressed, brushed my teeth, and combed my hair before pulling it into a high ponytail, even the bit of bangs I usually leave to hang in front of my right eye. I replaced my wrinkled uniform from last night with a gray tank top and black leggings that were loose at the ankle. If I couldn't sleep until a decent time, then I would go on a run, something I have made a habit of doing when my insomnia wakes me up--mostly just because I find that it's a good way to clear my mind.

After I finished, I quietly made my way back down the stairs and out the front door, careful not to wake my sleeping friends. Once I was outside, I jogged a few paces away from my house before playing my music, not wanting to be right behind the door if it turned out that my Bluetooth earbuds weren't connected to my phone like I thought they were. Thankfully though, they were and I didn't have to go through the panicked motions of trying to turn down the volume before realizing it would just be quicker to pause the song. I only had one earbud in my ear in case a car came near while I was running. I live in the middle of the woods, so it's unlikely--especially at this time of day--but I still don't like to be almost completely without one of my senses. Once I got my playlist going I set off down my driveway to run alongside the road and still-dark woods.

Denmark's POV:
I woke up with my cheek pressed against the arm of America's couch and the first rays of morning streaming in through the eastern windows. I stretched and turned on the lamp on the coffee table so I could see better before I checked my phone, remembering that I hadn't told the others I was going to stay the night at America's place. I knew they wouldn't do anything drastic, I am a grown man after all, but I didn't want to worry them.

I opened my phone to find that Finland had called twice. I pressed his contact and called him back, also seeing that it was 6:30 in the morning. He answered after the first ring and I pressed the speaker button, figuring it would be a more pleasant way for Gilbert to wake up as opposed to America or me shaking him to consciousness.

"Well it's about time," Finland said when he answered the phone, "are you at America's house?"

"Yeah," I answered, "I wasn't planning on staying the night, but one thing led to another, you know?"

"Are you with Prussia too? Germany was asking about him earlier."

"How did you know?" I said sarcastically, nudging Gilbert with my foot, "Say hi, Gil."

"Arrgh, vhy is it so fucking bright?" He responded while moving to hold his head.

"I see you've been drinking too," Finland said, I couldn't tell if he was amused or disappointed, probably both.

"Yeah, Gil's the only one who overdid it though, I promise--or, well, I think. I haven't seen America yet, she's probably upstairs in her room. I'm sure she's fine though, she didn't drink much."

"Well, I hope you will be at the meeting on time."

"Oh yeah, we'll ride with America to the meeting place like we did on the way here." 

We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone and groaned, I really don't want to go to another one of those stupid meetings. Prussia, on the other hand, just laughed. "Oh ha, ha," I said, "lucky bastard, you don't even have to go to these things."

"I know," he replied, still laughing, "but vhy vould I miss one when I don't have to do anysing but watch ein bunch of nations fight vith each other like idiots? It's free entertainment."

"Yeah," I replied, "for the first hour or so, then it gets so stupid it's boring."

"Vell... ja."

I heard a door open a few rooms away and turned around to see America walking into the living room from the hall, her messy hair making it apparent she had come in from outside. "Hey, what were you doing out there? It's really early," I asked her.

"Oh, I just woke up early so I went for a run," she said. How the hell does she run this early in the morning?

"How far?" Prussia asked from his seat on the floor.

"Uh... 'bout 12 miles? I think? Something like that."

"Only 12?" He joked, earning a small laugh from our friend.

"Yeah, my bad, I'll be sure to run the full marathon next time," she joked back and the three of us shared a small laugh.

"Do you think the meeting today will be as bad as yesterday's?" I asked no one in particular.

My friends both groaned before America said, "I dunno, probably, but I heard that if we don't get through all of today's issues and the ones we didn't get to yesterday then we'll have to have another meeting tomorrow."

"Damn, I really hope we don't have to do that," I groaned as I rubbed my eyes, "I don't know if the others and I will be able to stay an extra night at our hotel, Finland checked yesterday, just in case, and he said it's completely booked."

America gave me a concerned look, "Well... if you guys end up needing a place to stay I'd be fine with letting ya bunk here for the night."

"That would be really nice of you, but honestly I hope it doesn't come to that, Peter snuck onto the plane with us when we came over here, Finland hasn't found out yet, but I noticed. If he doesn't get caught listening in on the meeting today then he definitely will if we have to stay another day."

She chuckled and didn't seem very surprised. "Huh, I thought he would've been caught by now, he's been kinda sloppy this week," I gave her a curious look and she continued, "Well who do ya think has been giving him snacks during the lunch breaks? England's fairies?"

I was surprised, Sealand was usually able to hide very well, I didn't think she would have noticed him, the other nations hadn't--hell, half of the time I didn't either. "How did you know he was here?" I asked.

"I always notice when he sneaks around the meeting buildings, after awhile he gave up on trying to hide from me and I started bringing him snacks so he didn't get too hungry," she said. I stared at her and Prussia just started laughing.

"S-so," he started, still recovering from his laughing fit, "zat was vhy you were under ze table zat one time ven Vest und I valked in? pfffft, hahaha! He vas talking about how he sought jou vere so veird after we left, it vas so funny!" America reddened and turned walk to the stairs.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny. I'm gonna take a shower before we go, see ya."

She went upstairs and I got up to take a shower in the downstairs bathroom, then Prussia did the same when I was done. This wasn't the first time we had stayed over at her place. Actually, we usually do it at least once every time the monthly meetings are held in her country, which is kind of a lot compared to other countries.

After a while she came downstairs and sat next to me on the couch, having replaced her running clothes with her usual military uniform and bomber jacket. Her hair had been put into a neat bun with her bangs covering her right eye almost completely, leaving barely a sliver of a bright blue orb visible. I casually took note that she had done that spell thingy where she conceals her scars and keeps her irises from going red. I understand the scars part, after all, it's no fun when people stare at them, but I've never really understood why she keeps her eyes from changing. I've always thought it looked cool and that the magic aspect of it was impressive, but apparently a lot of people don't share that sentiment, at least that's what Prussia said when he tried to explain it to me.

We waited a few minutes for Prussia to finish up in the bathroom before we all got into America's truck to go to the meeting building, which was in some town in Virginia whose name I didn't care to remember. Once America parked in the lot she and I simultaneously got out and groaned, neither of us liking the idea of another meeting filled with nothing but yelling and some small, pathetic attempts at fist fights. I can't imagine why Peter likes sneaking into these things. Gilbert, on the other hand, didn't seem to share our thoughts and giggled like a child as he started pulling whoever he could get to first along with him by the wrist.

POV CHANGE!!!

America's POV:
Gilbert came up to me and took my wrist as he began walking to the entrance, I didn't really care so I let him pull me as far as the entrance before making him let go. The three of us walked into the large building and through its long halls to the meeting room before we had to part ways. Prussia walked up to the front of the room to annoy Germany, Denmark went over to stand and chat with the other Nordics near the left side of the long table, and I walked to the right side of the table, dumping my bag down onto the floor before sitting between my brother, Canada, and my father, England, who was on my right and looked even grumpier than usual.

It was a rather odd group of nations assembled here. The world meetings had already finished, meaning some of the luckier nations have already left, but other organizations and nations of similar interests still had meetings to attend. As I looked around, I saw that most of Europe, all of North America (minus Greenland), and a few Asian nations were at this meeting... well, if anything, this should be interesting.

I checked my watch to see that there were still a few minutes until the meeting was scheduled to start so I took the time to start a conversation with my brother. My other younger brother and little sister, Diego and Maria, the personifications of Mexico, added commentary as well from their seats on the other side of Matthew (Canada). Unfortunately, we didn't get to talk much before Germany called the meeting into session, it isn't technically a world meeting so I didn't have to do it again as the host nation, thank god.

The yelling started about five minutes after the first topic of discussion had been brought up, I didn't even catch what they were arguing about because it went from one to one hundred so quickly. I noticed a small pair of hands were playing with my pant leg, I smiled a bit wider and began bouncing my foot around just to mess with the little table gremlin. Normally I would be concerned if random hands started touching me, but I know that it's just Peter, and I already had a talk with him about leaving the weapons in my ankle holsters alone, so I don't have anything to worry about. I kept both of us entertained and, more importantly, distracted from the yelling throughout the meeting by messing around with Peter. He would tap my foot and I would, as discretely as possible, move my foot around to try to tap him back. I could faintly hear his quiet giggles coming from under the table, but the yelling seemed to keep anyone else from noticing. Of course our games were interrupted by the inevitable arguments that I was involved in, not to say I didn't start one or two, I have a bit of a problem with being strongly opinionated at times. But eventually, a lunch break was called.

After Germany called the break, most of the nations rushed out immediately. I took my time in getting up and walking to the door in an attempt to distance myself from the chaos. Of course, another, more pleasant, form of chaos caught up to me in the form of my younger siblings. They joined me in heading to the cafeteria and asked how I've been, I told them that I was doing well and asked them the same question. All in all, it was a nice conversation until the subject of our father was brought up.

"Hey, Ames, Dad was giving you the stink eye for most of the meeting, is everything okay?" Diego asked me, earning an elbow by in the ribs from Matty.

I gave Matthew a soft smack upside the head, "Don't hit him," I chastised. I slowed down slightly to get a better view of my youngest brother as he did the same so we could speak without Matthew directly between us. "Everything's fine. It's just that it's still early July, I don't think he's gotten over his Independence-Day-blues yet this year," I rolled my eyes as I finished speaking.

Matthew and Maria slowed down as well and we all came to a stop, standing in a loose huddle next to an empty table in the cafeteria, the chatter of other nations filling the room.

"Seriously?" Maria spoke up, "He really hasn't gotten over that yet? Hasn't it been almost 250 years?" My brothers looked concerned, well, more agitated really, but opted to nod their heads instead of speak.

"Yeeeep, the late night drunk calls just keep getting more colorful by the year," I let a bored expression replace my signature Hollywood smile. I don't know why I even answer his calls at night anymore, I know what's coming: a slew of insults and nasty remarks as I try to get one of his brothers or France to pick him up from whatever bar he's at and take him home. The last one was particularly bad, usually I stay on the line until someone picks him up and speaks to me through his phone, but that time I just couldn't. The things he said... he crossed several lines that he normally doesn't and I couldn't stand it anymore, I wanted to make sure he was safe but I just couldn't listen to him anymore. I ended up calling Prussia soon after, on the verge of having a break down. He helped me calm down and we ended up talking for a while until he made me hang up and try to get some sleep at sometime around four in the morning, eastern time.

Diego looked as if he was about to punch somebody, "This is ridiculous! He needs to grow the fuck up and get over it already!" Matthew made sounds of agreement as he nodded.

"Yeah, well, 's not like I can talk to him about it. On the off chance that he doesn't just get more pissy with me about it, talking to sober him isn't going to help much. You know he can't hold his liquor, the next time he drinks it'll be the same damn thing all over again," I told them. They didn't argue because they know I'm right, but the conversation had ruined the mood and left me unable to think of anything else to talk about without the sudden change in topic sounding weird and evasive.

I stood there, becoming increasingly uncomfortable in the silence that had come over the four of us before I decided that it was best to leave. "Well, I promised a friend that I'd join them for lunch, so I'm gonna go. I love you guys." I said as I gave each of them a hug, which they returned without hesitation, before I left and walked towards the mostly dissipated line for food. I had barely reached my destination before being stopped by my uncle Scotland. Out of all my uncles and aunt, I think my relationship with him is the best.

"How ya doin', lass?" He asked as he came up to me with his lunch in one hand.

"I'm good uncle Scott, how 'bout you?"

"Eeeh, same old stuff. Though, I'd be better if your father hadn't dragged us to another one of these stupid things."

I chuckled and his expression grew more concerned, "Speaking of which... I noticed that you weren't on the phone with Arthur when I got there to pick him up. I was gonna talk to you about it earlier but didn't get the chance. Did something happen or did you finally just stop putting up with him?"

I blinked, trying to find an answer for his unexpected question. "... I guess I just got a little fed up with him," my smile turned sheepish as I wished he would either buy the lie or change the subject.

"Ok, I just wanted to check, I know he can be a huge arse when he drinks. I guess I'll leave ya to your lunch then," he patted me on the back and gave a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, sure, thanks uncle Scott."

I stood like a deer in the headlights for a moment as I watched him walk to a table where my other uncles and aunt were already seated. I shook my head a bit before getting lunch for me and the little table gremlin. I bought two sandwiches, two fruit cups, and a cup of gummy bears as a little treat for Peter. I pretended not to see the disgusted and judgmental looks that were shot my way as I bought my food, probably because of the amount. Oh well, maybe I'd feel worse if it really was all for me, but it's not, so I don't. I ignored the other nations' demeaning  stares as I walked out of the cafeteria, smile plastered on my face as I headed back to the meeting room.

 

Chapter 2: 2.

America's POV:
I walked into the meeting room to see no one inside. Good. Though I know it's not completely vacant. I walk into the room and kneel down, shifting the food in my hands to my left  arm while I lifted up the tablecloth with my free hand. As soon as it was lifted, I could see Peter just a foot or so away, looking directly at me, having heard me enter the room, no doubt.

"Hi Miss Amelia!" He greeted me as I crawled under the table to sit next to him, discreetly hiding the gummy bears behind my back as I did so. I had just gotten him to quit calling me 'Miss America' a few years ago but still haven't gotten him to drop the 'Miss', oh well, I guess it doesn't really matter.

"I got ya some goodies," I said as I passed him a sandwich and a fruit cup, which he thanked me for. "Now, the only thing left is to see if you can handle... the ultimate goodie," I said with all of the little showmanship needed to entertain a child. "Are you ready?"

He giggled, "Yeah, of course."

"No, I need you to be serious for a second," I told him, mocking seriousness myself, "Are you ready for its sugary goodness?"

He tried to suppress his giggles and nodded.

"Ok" I sang a tune of suspenseful music before slowly bringing the gummy bears out from behind my back and into the view of the child in front of me. His eyes lit up and he thanked me as I gave it to him.

"Thank you Miss Amelia!" He said gratefully.

"No prob, bob," I responded automatically, eliciting a giggle from the child. "What? You think I'm funny?"

Peter nodded, "Uh-huh, you have funny sayings and are always so dramatic, I like it though."

I gasped dramatically, "Me, dramatic? What ever do you mean?"

He looked at the gummy bears and then back at me. 

"What are you talking about? Those are sour gummy bears, if that's not good enough for a little showmanship then I don't know what is," I said, shaking my head. Peter giggled at my theatrics and I could only laugh along. "I'm glad you like it though," I said as I gently ruffled his hair before unwrapping my sandwich as he bit into his.

We ate our lunch and talked about various things, things I wouldn't normally talk about with other adults. Things like superheroes and blessedly childish subjects that I actually enjoy discussing. We were in the middle of talking about a new movie when I glanced at my watch and frowned.

"Sorry kiddo, but break's almost over. The other nations will be coming in soon," I told Peter, signaling the end of our talk. I always enjoy talking to Peter, kids in general are more fun to talk to, in my experience. They aren't concerned with politics or making themselves look good even if they have to lie through their teeth, and they especially don't tend to try to hurt others on purpose through their words just for the sake of causing harm.

"Aww, all right. I guess I'll see you at the next meeting, well, if I can get in," he said.

"I think you can sneak into pretty much anywhere at this point," I told him, earning a big smile in return. "I'll see you later."

"See ya."

I gathered our trash, except for the gummy bear container which Peter was still snacking out of, and emerged from under the white tablecloth. I walked over to the trash can in the corner of the room and dumped the garbage in it as Japan walked in through the door about five feet to my left. He seemed surprised when he saw me and came closer, so that he was about an arm's length away, to greet me.

"Heya, Japan-san!"

"Herro, America-san, you're earrier than usuar."

"Oh, yeah, I just couldn't remember if I brought the right paperwork with me, so I came in here to find my bag and check. Turns out it was a false alarm."

"Ah, I see..."

We stood in awkward silence for a moment, neither of us are very good at being social, unfortunately. Although I am usually able to distract others from that fact by doing something stupid.

"So... how've you been?" I ask, it's harder to get good conversations going with him anymore, the atom bombs ruined that.

"Good... good, and you?"

"I'm good, busy, but good..." after a moment I was able to hear the footsteps of other nations on their way back, "Ope, sounds like the stampede is coming, we'd best find our seats."

Japan nodded and walked over to sit on the left side, near the head of the table, as I walked back to my place and stood behind my chair. I don't plan on sitting down until everyone gets here, I get fidgety if I sit for too awful long. Though, I guess it wouldn't really matter if I randomly got up in the middle of the meeting, Germany might ask me to sit back down but, other than that, nothing would really happen.

Soon enough, everyone had entered and found their seats. Matthew stood next to me and we exchanged friendly greetings before sitting down, our little siblings following suit. England sat back down next to me, this time not even sparing a glance in my direction. It hurt a little, I won't lie, but I've dealt with his on-and-off tantrums about my independence for years and I've learned to just ignore him as best as I can.

Germany called the meeting into session again and the shit show resumed. This time, however, England got into a fist fight with France and a few nations cheered on the nation of their choosing, including my brother.

"Will you knock it off?" I said as I noogied Matthew's head.

He stopped cheering on France for a moment to remove my hand from his head. "It doesn't matter, it's not like they're gonna notice me. Besides, it's kinda fun, definitely the most entertainment I've gotten this week."

I sighed and let him continue as I turned back to the fight and allowed a look of boredom replace my signature smile.

Soon enough, I began to hear Germany's shouts at everyone as he tried to restore order to the meeting. A few moments went by and it was clear that either few could hear him, or most simply ignored him. The poor guy looked like his head was about to explode, so, after some internal debate, I decided to intervene.
I walked straight through the circle of nations that had formed and pulled England and France apart with little effort. England looked enraged while France just moved farther behind me. The noise still didn't stop.

"QUIET!" I yelled, allowing my voice to get much louder than I normally would around other people. But I must've overdone it, judging by how the others immediately covered their ears, even the ones on the other side of the room.

"You little brat!" England shouted, "You can't just grab people like that! Haven't you ever heard of respect?!"

I snorted, plastering my Hollywood smile back on my face, of all the arguments for him to use that was probably the stupidest. "Yeah, have you?"

"Of course I have-"

I cut him off, "Oh really? Then what were you doing just now? Respecting the crap out of France's face?" A few nations laughed but I wasn't joking, and despite how I tried to keep the annoyance and irritation from leaking into my expression I'm sure there was some there.
Germany came over, sensing his opportunity to regain what little control he had over the meeting.

"Alright, everyone, back to jour seats!"

The circle dispersed and Germany grabbed England, removing my hands a little more gently and asking me to sit back down. I obliged and he had Spain trade seats with France, who had been sitting next to England, before going back to his own seat and trying to get a discussion going about the topic we were supposed to talking about. Of course, that didn't last long.

"What are you, America? Germany's fucking lap dog?" Spain said, rather loudly. He seemed to have been enjoying the fight quite a bit. I ignored his comment but, soon enough, almost everyone was yelling at me. Apparently, by stopping the fight, I had messed up their betting, something they technically shouldn't have been doing in the first place.

I didn't really bother saying anything, it wouldn't do any good anyways. Denmark, Prussia, and my siblings tried to defend me, but their voices were drowned out by the others. Germany continued to try to restore order but eventually gave up. "Meeting dismissed!!" He yelled. Of course, they all shut up once they heard that and started to pack their things to leave.

"But because we couldn't get through everysing today, we will need to reconvene tomorrow at nine thirty!" He said.

Everyone groaned, except for Diego who turned and said, "What thirty, Germany?" with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Shut up!" Was Germany's response.

I laughed and said goodbye to my siblings before walking over to Denmark and the other Nordics as everyone else began to leave. They looked concerned as they watched Finland make a phone call, presumably to the hotel they were staying at.

"Is everything alright?" I asked as I moved to stand next to Denmark.

"We'll see," he responded, not taking his eyes off of Finland.

"I understand... alright, goodbye," Finland ended the call, "They're all booked up, we can't get a room for tonight, I guess I could see if we can get one at another hotel."

"I wouldn't bother if I were you," Finland looked at me surprised, he must not have noticed me walk over.

"Why is that?" Norway asked.

"This isn't a very big city, and with the convention downtown, there's so many people trying to find somewhere to stay that I'm sure every other hotel and motel is all booked up."

Finland put his hands on his face in frustration, "Urgh, I should've booked an extra day like you suggested in your email, but I completely forgot!" Sweden moved closer to comfort the smaller male.

"Listen," I said, "Den mentioned to me that this might happen, and I would be happy to have you stay the night at my place."

"Are you sure?" Finland removed his hands from his face to look at me.

"Of course," I said, giving them a genuine smile.

"Oh, thank you!" Finland said as he hugged me.

The sudden movement and being enveloped by his arms startled me, to say the least, but after a second or so the embrace actually felt comforting. I awkwardly hugged him back and said, "Oh, um, no problem."

Finland pulled away and the Nordics went back to the table to grab their bags or briefcases. I walked to the other side of the now empty room to retrieve my own bag, which was a small duffle bag. I ducked through the strap and adjusted it so it sat comfortably across my body, the strap going from my left shoulder to the right side of my hips.

I rejoined their group near the doorway before I remembered something. They watched in confusion as I went back to the end of the table and knocked on it.

"Come on, ya little table gremlin, I ain't letting' ya stay here all night." As soon as I said that, Finland realized what I was doing.

"Peter?!" He exclaimed.

Sealand poked his head out from behind the tablecloth and laughed nervously, "Uh, hehe... hi äiti."

Finland had a mixture of relief and anger on his face. He scolded Peter but seemed to forget that I knew about his hiding spot and didn't say something sooner, or maybe he just let it go since I'm giving them a place to stay.

After Finland was finished scolding Peter, I spoke, "So, do y'all need to swing by your hotel to grab your things or?"

"No, our stuff's in the back of the van Fin rented," Denmark said.

"Alright then, you guys can just follow my truck and I'll lead ya to my place, it's about a half hour away."

"Would it be okay if I rode with you?" Norway asked, "It's pretty cramped in the van with all of the luggage, you know?"

"Oh, uh, yeah sure," I said.

"Can I go with you too Miss. Amelia?!" Peter shouted out excitedly.

"No," Finland said, "you are staying with me so I can keep an eye on you."

"But!-"

"Sorry, kiddo, if your äiti says no, then it's a no," I interjected.

He let it go with a disappointed groan and walked with the rest of us out into the parking lot, holding Finland's hand the whole time.

POV CHANGE!!!!

Norway's POV:
As we got closer to Fin's van, I waved goodbye to the others and followed America to her vehicle. She fished her keys out of her bag and pressed a button to unlock it. A large red truck's lights flashed as she did so, that one must be hers. She walked towards it and hopped in the driver's seat while I walked around and climbed into the passenger's seat.

We buckled our seatbelts and she turned the key in the ignition, making the truck come to life with a low vroom. I glanced around as she drove out of the parking lot. The truck smelled good, I don't know why that's the first thing I noticed, but it was. The smell was that of leather, despite the complete absence of the material, unless that's what her bomber jacket is made of, mixed with that of... sawdust-? and a more floral note that I can't put my finger on.

From the looks of the dashboard, this is probably an older truck despite its new appearance from the outside. The only personal item I can see is a colored glass rose hanging from the rear view mirror, the rest of the truck's interior is spick and span, not what one would expect from America, to say the least.

I turned to look behind me and out of the back window, seeing that the others were indeed right behind us. I let out a small sigh as I turned back around and watched at the scenery as it went by.

I had used the van being cramped as an excuse, I can deal with getting squashed by Denmark, I really only asked to join her to satisfy my curiosity. During the meeting when she had to break up England and France, I could've sworn that I had sensed a magical signature coming from her. It was a mere flicker, but I know I felt it, and that wasn't the first time either, it's happened a few times when someone did something that should have really pissed her off. She rarely showed any anger in those instances, but I would always feel that flicker.

It's strange, sensing only a flicker, sure, people can hide their signatures, but most don't because of how tiring it can become. Not only that, but it feels so familiar, like it belongs to someone who I used to know.

I don't know, she's always been a little strange. Finland has mentioned before how her mannerisms and little quirks seem familiar, usually after a longer interaction with her. Denmark says he notices it too and, honestly, so do I. It's the little things, the things that aren't typically noticed, like how someone walks, how they smile, their little quirks and the gestures they make. One time she came over for dinner, at Denmark's invitation, and after she left, we all, even Sweden, had to admit that they got a serious sense of déjà vu from her. It's not a bad thing, she's a really nice girl, it's just a little odd when someone seems so familiar, and yet you know that it's not them that you are being reminded of. 

"Hey, do you mind if I put on some music?" America's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"No, go ahead," I responded. She proceeded to press a button on the dashboard and play a radio station that broadcasts rock music. It's not half bad, honestly I had been expecting either country or pop, but this is a pleasant surprise.

We didn't talk much, she asked if we were enjoying ourselves while in her country and I told her that our stay has been nice aside from the meetings. After that short conversation, we fell into a comfortable silence. It's odd, she acts almost as if she's two different people, the loud, boisterous girl at the meetings, and the calm, friendly woman I'm with now. Pushing my observations to the side for now, I decide that this is a good time to ask the questions I had planned on asking since we left the meeting building.

"So, America-"

"Call me Amelia, please. It's my name, after all."

"Alright, Amelia, what's with you and England? He seems angrier than usual and it appears to be directed at you and your family," the FACE family has always seemed strained, but at the meeting England displayed true anger and hatred, with most of it being directed towards America and France.

"Oh... um," she sighed, not liking this subject of discussion, "He just doesn't like that I gained independence, ...every time early July rolls around he basically throws a tantrum since I declared independence on July fourth and he is reminded of it every year. It's just proving to be one of his worse years, he'll be over it again in another week or so."

I raised my brows in surprise, that's pretty toxic, even for him. "Huh... I apologize if this is below the belt but, did you ever have a mother who could help you deal with him?"

"Uh... I did... but, uh... she was gone by the time he came to my land."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

She gave a slight hum in acknowledgment, "Hey, why do ya ask?"

"I was just curious. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"Eh, you're fine, 's not a big deal."

Silence settled over us once more. I have grown well acquainted with the trio of America, Denmark, and Prussia over the years and found that she is usually the quietest of the group, despite how she acts during meetings.

As the music played in the background, I decided to focus more on the magical flicker that I had previously felt. The only thing I can think of that would explain such a phenomenon would be if a person who was concealing their signature suddenly lost their focus or their control for a brief moment. The only problem with that explanation is that the only people who can use magic, out of us nations, is: England and his siblings, Romania, Belarus, and me. It's not a very common gift, and I doubt anyone would be able to hide their ability from us. We take care to be sure that we know who has access to magic, as it can make someone incredibly dangerous. It is not feasible that she could have concealed magical abilities from us this long, especially with so many nations that push her buttons constantly, purposely trying to irritate her.

However, the only other explanation would be that someone near her lost control momentarily, or that she is barely able to use magic and accidentally tapped into someone else's magic. Though, I have already debunked this. No one with magical powers was next to, or even near her when I felt most of the flickers. I wonder if I should bring this up the next time all of us magic users get together... no, some of them would likely overreact and harass her about it, mostly one man in particular. Like I said before, she's a nice girl, and, with the amount of restraint she has shown at meetings, there's no way she would hurt-

"Almost there!" She said, startling me out of my thoughts. "Ope! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare ya or anythin'. You ok? Ya looked like you were lost in your own head." She glanced over at me with a kind smile as I collected my thoughts.

"It's fine, I was just trying to think of a solution to a possible problem."

"Oooo~ a problem huh? Sounds interesting, want a fresh perspective?"

"Oh, no, it's fine," I said, declining her offer to help. I don't really want to admit that the problem involves her, especially since I've already been invasive enough with my questions about her family. I don't want to stick my nose too far into places it doesn't belong.

"You sure? Sometimes it helps just to talk it out."

"I'm sure," she has a good point, but she's still not the right person for me to talk to about this.
She relents and I look back out of the windshield to find that we are now on a narrower road in a rather dense woods. I scrunch my face up a bit in discomfort, I've never been to her house before and most of the scary stories I've heard of take place in a woods of some sort. She glanced over and notices my discomfort immediately.

"I guess my place is a bit further from society than most people's huh? Don't worry, I just like the peace, I ain't gonna murder ya with a hatchet or anything," she said with a laugh.

I forced a half laugh in return before she points to a gravel path that branched off from the main road.

"There it is!" She slowed down and turned onto it, driving for about a hundred meters or so through the woods before coming to a clearing with two attached buildings in the center.

Chapter 3: 3.

Summary:

Some happy interactions between America and the Nordics.

Norway POV:
America pressed a button on the ceiling of the truck, opening the garage door of the smaller of the two connected buildings. There was a two story house that was on the larger side with a wrap-around porch and a beautiful flower bed that looked to wrap around the front and sides of the house. I didn't get a very good look at the other building before we entered it, but it looked like a large shed or a metal barn of sorts. America turned off the truck once she had it parked inside and got out. I followed her lead in exiting the vehicle and walked back out into the driveway. I could hear the others coming down the lane, the gravel announcing their presence by making popping noises under the tires of the van.
I turn around upon hearing metal clinking against metal and see America unlock a door at the back of the garage that looked to lead inside the house before coming to stand next to me.

POV CHANGE!

Finland's POV:
"I don't know Matthias, maybe we mixed her up with another truck? This looks pretty rural."

"No, the license plate is the same! And I've been here before, Fin, I know what I'm talking about! Just keep going, we're almost there!" Denmark exclaimed before Sweden pushed him back into his seat from the passenger's seat. He then put his hand on my shoulder to wordlessly comfort me, I don't like driving in strange places, I don't know why I didn't just have Matthias drive instead.

Soon enough, a clearing came into view. It held a beautiful house and a metal barn with an open garage door in its center. America and Norway stood in front of the barn where her truck was parked. She waved, signaling for me to pull in right next to her vehicle in the empty space.
I parked the van next to her truck and turned it off, everyone immediately went to get out of the cramped, odd smelling rental.

As I walked over to where America and the others were gathering, I noticed the absolutely gorgeous flowerbeds in front of the house. The most eye-catching flowers being the different colored roses that stood out amongst the other flowers and bushes.

"Wow, that looks beautiful," I said to America, gesturing to the flowerbeds behind her.

She turned around briefly to look at what I was pointing at before beaming at me, "Oh, thanks! It gives me something to do other than paperwork, you know?"
I nodded.

"Cool, can we go inside now?" Matthias asked impatiently, "It's super hot out."

America chuckled as I gave him an elbow to the ribs. Ignoring his lack of manners, America brought us through a door in the garage which led to a laundry room that she quickly led us away from and into a main entrance hall, undoubtedly where we would have entered first, had we used the front door.

The hall was beautiful, the house was beautiful, it was all just so beautiful. There wasn't a chandelier or anything to make it fancy, but it was impressive all the same. Intricate woodwork lined the floors and walls, dark and light colored wood set together in mesmerizing patterns. A painted mural covered the wall at the end of the hallway opposite the door, surrounding the window with a floral and green leafy pattern. Another painting of a ship on choppy waters trailed up the stairway to the second floor.

The hall went all the way to the other end of the house, where the front door was. A staircase ascended to the second floor on the left side of the hall, the bottom step about a meter away from a closed door. There were three doors on the opposite side of the hall, one that was closed, one that was an empty doorway, and one was open, presumably the kitchen, though I couldn't actually see much through either doorway at this angle.

The walls were a very light gray and the floor of the hall is wood. Sweden seems to be taking an interest in the woodwork as well as the design used as a border in the wooden floor that framed the room perfectly.

"You have a lovely home," Iceland said.

Realizing I had been forgetting my manners, I repeated the compliment, "Yes, a very lovely home."

She turns to face us and gives a bright smile, "Thank you. I have three guest rooms upstairs, you guys can divvy them up as you please, the two rooms on the far end up there are my room and office, so please don't go in those," she said, pointing backwards, to the front of the house. "The beds don't have sheets on them though, I'll have to go get those."

"Oh, we can put those on the beds ourselves if you show us where they are," I suggest.

She nods, "Ok, I'll just throw them on top in a bit."

She walked off to the other side of the hall and we took that as our cue to claim our rooms. We divided into our usual pairs: Denmark and Norway, Sweden and me, and Iceland and Sealand.

As Sweden and I set down our things, America popped in and threw a folded set of sheets onto our bare mattress before disappearing back into the hallway to drop off sheets for the others. Once we were settled, we all met in the living room, which was through that empty doorway I couldn't see through earlier, and talked. Sweden sat next to me on the main couch with Denmark on his left while Norway sat on the morris chair near my end of the couch. Iceland sat with Sealand on the floor on the other side of the coffee table with his arms resting on the table. America had suggested that he sit in the recliner instead of her but he insisted that he would be fine on the carpeted floor.

I took a moment to take in my surroundings while Denmark (Matthias) chatted with America. The floor was covered in a fuzzy gray carpet that stopped as soon as it ran into the adjoining kitchen, where it turned to tile that was a grayish navy-blue in color. Sunlight streamed in through two medium-sized windows that looked out into the back yard of the property, which looked to be largely untamed woods. Though, I could see the corner of a vegetable garden, just barely within sight from where I sat.

(It's not quite to scale but I tried)

"Who built this?" Sweden asked, his question bringing my mind back to the conversation at hand.

"Who built what?" America questioned, tilting her head slightly.

Sweden gestured around him with his hands and she understood, "Oh, the house?"

He nodded.

"I built it myself."

That surprised everyone, even Denmark.

"What? You never told me that! That's awesome! When did you build it?"

"Uhhh, I think I first finished it in... the 1720's, if memory serves. Needless to say, I've renovated it countless times," America responded casually.

"Wow, this place is old," Sealand remarked.

America chuckled and glanced at Denmark, Sweden, and me before turning back to the child near her feet. "Age is relative, sweetie. I'm sure it doesn't seem that old to your parents or your uncles," she said as she looked back to us, amusement tugging the corners of her mouth up into a curved smile. Denmark laughed and I couldn't help but chuckle slightly myself while Sweden and Norway simply nodded in agreement. My child seemed to understand, remembering that we nations are much older than him, and that three centuries isn't really that old, especially not to people who have lived for over a millennium.

"Oh, right, "Sealand said, "I forgot you guys are so old."

"Peter!" I scolded as the room burst into laughter, mainly America and Denmark, "It is rude to call people old, especially a nice lady who welcomed you into her home, you know that!"

Peter's head sank down in shame at being called out. "Sorry Miss America-er, um, I mean Miss Amelia."

America didn't seem bothered in the least by his rather rude comment and waved it off, still chuckling, but I am definitely going to have a talk with him later about manners. "Ah, don' worry about it, squirt," she said, "my siblings call me old all the time."

She chuckled a bit more before meeting eyes with Iceland who was giving her a curious look. Her head tilted a bit questioningly before he spoke. "Your human name is Amelia?" he asked, the room going calm, once again.

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know, guess I was expecting something different, like Mary or Katie or something," Iceland said quietly.

America leaned back, thinking it over before shrugging, "Yeah, I guess those are more common names. It was probably just the first name that England thought of, either that or France shot down all the other ones he thought were boring. ... what about you? What's your human name?"

"Why don't we all say what our names are, there's no sense in you calling us by our country names outside of meetings, after all," I suggested, earning nods from all in the room.

Sealand started without a moment of hesitation, "I'm Peter, but you know that!" He exclaimed, jumping up as he proclaimed his name before looking at Iceland expectantly.

"I'm Emil," he stated looking from Peter back to Amelia.

Norway went after his brother, "Lukas," he said.

Next, Amelia looked to me, "My name is Tino," I said with a smile.

"Berwald," Sweden said.

"And you already know me." Denmark said.

"Yes, how could I forget, Matthias," Amelia said with a smile. There was a beat of comfortable silence before she checked her watch and addressed us once again. "So what're you guys going to want for dinner?" She asked, "I don't have any chicken at the moment, but I have some pork and beef that I can use for something."

I looked at my companions and shrugged, not wanting to be demanding. The others did the same with the exception of Matthias, who put his hand to his chin in thought. America looked at us expectantly, "Well, uh..." I began before I was cut off.

"Ooo!" Mattias exclaimed, his eyes lighting up, "what about that, uh, that shrimp stuff that you made that one time Prussia and I were here?"

"You mean the jambalaya?" Amelia asked with an amused smile stuck on her face

"Yeah, that! Please?" Matthias seemed excited. I think I've heard of jambalaya before, if Matthias is this excited about it, then it must be good.

"Sure, I've still got some shrimp in the freezer, if everyone's okay with that." America looked around the room to see if anyone was opposed to the idea.

"What's jambalaya?" Peter asked, tugging on her pantleg gently.

Amelia looked down to the child, looking him in the eyes as she answered. "Well, it's a dish with shrimp, sausage sometimes, rice, veggies, and some spices."

"Is it good?"

America laughed, a pleasant and bubbly sound, "Of course, I wouldn't make it if it was gross, silly." Peter seemed pleased and America got up from her perch on the recliner, "Though, given the time, I should get started if we don't want to be eating late."

"Yeah, all this talk of food is making me hungry," Matthias commented.

Though his remark was probably good-natured teasing at the most, I still gave him a light glare from my seat on the other side of Sweden. "I'll help you," I offered, standing as well.

"Oh! I want to help too!" Peter announced as he leapt up from his spot on the floor.

"I don't know, there's not a whole lot to help with... I'll tell you what, kid, you can pick out the dessert, how 'bout that?" Amelia said.

Peter deflated at hearing he couldn't help, but perked right back up at the mention of a dessert, "Okay!" he said as he followed her to the kitchen.

I walked over with them with Berwald right behind me. I swear, sometimes he acts like such a lost puppy. The other three followed shortly after, apparently not wanting to be so far away from all the action.

Amelia pulled some Italian sausage out of the fridge and asked me to cut it into small pieces. She then left the room momentarily and came back with a bag of shrimp in her hands. Shoving her gloves into her pocket and throwing her jacket over a free stool, she proceeded to then de-vein them in preparation for the dish as I chopped the sausage. Peter watched us closely from his perch on a kitchen stool while the other Nordics observed us casually as they made idle small talk. Once the food had been prepared the rest of the way and put on the stovetop, Amelia asked me to watch it so it didn't burn while she took Peter to the freezer in the garage to pick out a dessert. About ten minutes later they came back with a clear, round container that was topped with a bright blue lid and so fogged up from being in the freezer that you couldn't see what was inside.

"Guess what it is äiti!" Peter exclaimed, bouncing up and down as Amelia set the container down on the now clean counter.

She moved to stir the jambalaya as I moved closer to my son, "I don't know Peter, what is it?"

"Oooo~ I think I know what it is," Denmark said, eyeing the container hungerly.

"Shush! Äiti is guessing, not you!" Peter exclaimed before turning back to me and smiling expectantly, waiting for me to guess.

I sighed, the day was staring to wear on me, "Oh, I don't know... cookies maybe?"

"Nope! Apple pie!" The child exclaimed excitedly.

"Ooo! Is that the one you had Gil and me try yesterday?" Matthias asked, looking toward America.

"You mean the one you guys tried to play 'keep away' with?" She said, turning to give him a light glare, "Yeah."

Matthias pumped his fist in the air. "You're really getting excited about this, huh?" Norway commented in his monotone voice, curious as to why he was so excited for the American's food.

"Guys, you don't get it, her homecooked food is just so good. It doesn't get nearly as good of a reputation as it should." Matthias said passionately, waving his hands around as he spoke. I chuckled, I hadn't thought having to stay another day would lead to us having this good of a time. Berwald seems to be enjoying himself too, subtle shifts in his otherwise stony-faced expression giving away his amusement.

"Matt, dude, it's just a little different and not something you eat all of the time, that's why you like it so much," Amelia said, not bothering to turn away from the stove.

Matthias seemed appalled by her statement, "No way, bro! You don't give yourself nearly enough credit. Just 'cause it's not fancy like Francy-pant's food doesn't mean it's not good!"

"Alright, alright! Thank you for the compliment, Matt," she said, this time turning around to give him a small smile. "Could you do me a favor and set the table, please? You remember where the bowls are, right?"

"Yep!" Matthias jumped up from his seat on a stool and went to a cupboard and pulled out several bowls before coming back for cups, which he set on the kitchen counter, and then he took some silverware to the dinner table. He seemed to know his way around her kitchen just as well as he did with ours back home, though I'm not really surprised. World meetings are held in America quite a bit compared to other countries, and every time they are Matthias visits America along with Prussia. The three of them seem to get along very well and always visit each other when they are in the area. They are always so energetic and lively, the perfect friend group as far as I can tell.

Though, as I take a closer look at America, I can see the outlines of dark circles under her eyes. I wonder if she has been getting enough sleep, after all, it's one thing for an old nation like me to be worn out by the end of day, but for a young nation like her to look so tired by dinner time something might be wrong. On the other hand, it could also be the meetings, they do take a toll on all of us.

Before I can ask if she's been feeling alright, she announces that dinner is ready and takes the pan of jambalaya to the dinner table, setting it on a hot pad as we follow her to the dining room. "Help yourselves," she says as she goes back into the kitchen briefly to set the pie on the burner next to the one she had been cooking on, presumably to expedite its warming up.

She comes back into the dining room and sits down in the spot we left open for her at the head of the table. I passed the serving spoon to her after I had gotten my portion, and she passed it on to Berwald, who passed it to Lukas, then Emil, then Peter, and then Matthias put it back in the pan, having already served himself. We all dug into the food, not realizing how hungry we had been until we had taken our first bite. The food was truly delicious, as Matthias had claimed. Peter shoveled the food in his mouth without shame, Mathias doing the same before I elbowed him in the ribs, Peter was beyond my reach so I ignored him for now.

We gave our compliments to the chef, who smiled appreciatively. Soon enough, it was time for dessert, which was just as good, if not better than the main course had been. Needless to say, we were all very satisfied by the time dinner was over.

POV CHANGE!!!

Sweden's POV:

After dinner, we all agreed to shower and get changed for bed before meeting back in the living room. America and Tino took the first showers, America going upstairs and Tino going up for his clothes and toiletries before coming back down to use the downstairs bathroom. Tino came back first and Lukas went after him, America came back shortly after and Matthias went up to take his shower.

America sat down next to me after Matthias got up, which was unusual. Nations outside of the other Nordics tended to stay away from me, apparently I have a "resting bitch face" or at least that is what Matthias said. I watched curiously as she draped her long, damp hair over the back of the couch, though not for too long, as I didn't want to seem creepy. She had changed from her uniform and bomber jacket into a worn, dark blue T-shirt and gray pajama pants. I heard her breath a sigh of relief, or maybe it was contentment, then saw her turn to me out of my peripherals.

"So how are you today, Swe- er, Berwald?" She asked, her blue eyes focusing on my face instead of avoiding it. She seemed calm and relaxed, what a pleasantly strange girl, I couldn't help but release a breath of amusement. She tilted her head in confusion but maintained her smile, "What's so funny?"

I shook my head slowly, "Nothing... I'm w'll, you?"

Amelia leaned back into the couch, "Ooooh, just great, be better if we didn't have a meetin' tomorrow, though. Don' get me wrong, I love yer guys' company, but the screamin' matches get old real fast." Her accent was beginning to sound more southern, almost like those cowboys in old movies.

I nodded in agreement and a comfortable silence fell over us as we listened to Peter talk with Tino, his excitement not having depleted even a bit since we arrived. Soon enough, Lukas came back and I went to take my shower, then Matthias returned and Tino convinced Peter to go up to take his just as I came down the hall to tell Emil it was his turn as well.

"Amelia, I have a question," Tino said once Peter had gone upstairs and I had reclaimed my seat between my husband and America.

"Ok, shoot."

"I don't mean to be nosey, but what's in the locked room upstairs?" America raised an eyebrow and Tino explained. "Well, I wasn't sure which door out of the two was the guest room, since both of the doors were closed, and I know it wasn't your room or office because your office door was open just a little," Tino said, his voice sounding a little nervous as he waved his hands around in an attempt to better explain.

"Oh, yeah, that's just the weapons closet, I figured I better lock it since there's a little one around. I know he's smart enough not to touch anything, but just in case, you know?" America responded, her voice sounding just sheepish enough to tell that she knew it was odd and didn't want us to freak out.

"Wha- a weapons closet?" Tino sounded alarmed.

"Well, most of them are collectors items at this point, but um, the rest is just in case someone were to break in, or something. ... Oh shut up, Matt!" America quickly elaborated before yelling at Matthias, who seemed to think the whole situation was hilarious and was cackling loudly from his spot on the recliner.

"Oh come on, this is funny!" Matthias said between giggles while both Tino and Amelia looked like they wanted to hit him. "I mean, for starters, Tino has sniper rifles at home and I have my battle axe, so it's not like having weapons is weird for nations. Plus, aren't you still involved in your military?"

"Not as much as I used to be, but yeah," America responded, relaxing a bit.

"See? It's nothing to get worked up about," Matthias finished with a smile, seeming to have successfully calmed both Tino's concerns and Amelia's nerves.

"I guess you're right," Tino said before turning back to America, "So you collect them, right? Are there only guns, or...?"

"Oh, I collect all kinds of stuff, guns, knives, etc., I even have an old katana from Japan's place that I managed to restore and several medieval era weapons, but those aren't at this house." Amelia seemed happy to talk about her collection, and was probably just glad that no one freaked out about having an arsenal in the house. Tino and Amelia continued to talk about weapons, with Matthias chipping in occasionally, until both Emil and Peter returned from taking their showers.

Peter suggested that we watch a movie and no one had any complaints, so America turned on the TV and let him search through her DVD collection in the entertainment center beneath it. Eventually we settled on a movie called Luca. Peter had insisted on it after seeing that the main characters on the cover were sea monster things.

The rest of the night was enjoyable and the movie was good, though Peter could barely stay awake for the entire thing. By the end credits he was falling asleep on Tino, who had let him sit on his lap, and Emil looked almost as tired as Peter did. Needless to say, we decided to call it a night and go to bed. Tino carried Peter upstairs with him, bringing up the rear of the group while Amelia stayed downstairs a little longer to put the DVD away.

Tino dropped off a sleeping Peter onto the bed he shared with Emil. I watched from the doorway, then Tino and I went to our room and got in bed. "Well, this has been nice," Tino said as he snuggled up next to me, laying his head on my chest.

"Mm," I agreed.

"It almost makes me appreciate the meetings getting extended."

"Mm," I wasn't sure if I'd go that far, but I agreed anyways.

Chapter 4: 4.

Third person POV:

As everyone else went to bed, Amelia found herself actually being able to fall asleep rather quickly, which was a rare treat for her. She slept for around an hour and a half before her phone rang from her nightstand. It was on silent, thankfully, but the sound of her phone case vibrating on the wood of the nightstand was just loud enough to wake her up. She opened her eyes and groaned, seeing the time on the clock before she noticed her phone. Picking up her phone, she groaned once more, trying to be quiet but still unable to silence her discomfort. Her father, England, was calling.

She really didn't want to answer it, and could feel a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. Maybe she could just not answer it and call one of her uncles or her papa France and ask them to pick him up? No, that wouldn't work, she doesn't know for sure where he is. It's not like she can just ignore him either, she had tried that a few times before but each time he just kept calling and leaving angry messages and texts -- blowing up her phone. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she answered the phone and sat up in her bed, not putting it on speakerphone like she normally would and trying to be as quiet as she could.

"D'hell took you so long?!" England's voice yelled on the other side of the line.

Amelia sighed, why did this have to happen today? It had been such a good day. "Oh, I don't know, maybe 'cause it's the middle of the night?"

"Don' talk back to me! I oughtta smack that stupid mouth of yours right offa yer face!" He was slurring his words, great, this'll be fun. She rubbed her face with her free hand, wishing once again that he would just leave her alone.

"Dad, does your hotel have a bar? Is that where you are?" Amelia asked, she can't imagine he would have gone out to find a bar when he hasn't even been to this town before.

"Why da fuck should I tell you? Whaddarya gonna do, throw my tea out again?" He spat bitterly, though he didn't deny it, so he must be at his hotel. Good, that will make things easier for everyone involved. 

She quickly opened her texting app and sent a message to France, telling him to get his boyfriend from the bar before he either got hurt or hurt someone. France replied with a simple "ok," meaning he was on his way as quickly as he could manage. Unfortunately for her, though, England was still screaming at her through the phone, coming up with a number of colorful insults that only a drunkard could think up, some didn't even make sense. She tried to calm him down, but her efforts were fruitless, they always were.

Soon enough, his voice was directed away from her, to someone else who sounded like they were removing him from the bar, or at least trying to. She sincerely hoped it wasn't security. Moments later, the phone was taken from her father and a voice came over the line that assured Amelia her father wasn't being arrested.

"'melia, lass, you there?" Her uncle asked, his voice sounding concerned.

"Yeah 'm 'ere," she responded, sure she sounded as tired as she felt. Her papa must have asked her uncle Scott for backup, which wasn't a bad idea since her father tended to resist leaving a bar once he got drunk. Something she could hear him doing in the background, his indignant shouts paired with French accented pleas to go back to their room.

"I'm so sorry about this, lass, I wish he would stop calling ya like this," her uncle apologized, but he wasn't the one who she wanted to hear it from.

"Eh, 's fine, I jus' wish he'd get over it already, er quit drinkin', either one'd work."

"Either one would be a bloody miracle," Scotland commented.

"Mh," Amelia grunted in agreement.

"Well, I'll let you go now lass, see you at the meetin', love ya."

"Love ya too, buh bye," Amelia hung up and set the phone back down, sighing before flopping back down onto her pillow and hoping sleep would return to her. It sort of did, coming in short waves throughout the night. She would sleep for a half hour or so and then be awake for about a half hour, over and over before she finally got up and said "Screw it" once the clock hit 5 am.

Leaving her room, she turned and made a beeline for the stairs, not in any rush but not wandering around either. Her bare feet made little noise as she descended the stairs and stepped onto the ground floor. She stood there for a moment, considering her options: she could go for a run like she normally would, or she could go to her library and read a book or two. After a moment of deliberation, she decided on the latter option, after all, she wouldn't want to leave guests in the house alone, unless of course they were only Denmark or Prussia. It's not like she didn't trust the other four Nordics, she just doesn't know them nearly as well as she knows her best friends. 

Settling on her decision, she went forward, turning right and into the library, immediately going to her little nook in the corner. It was a small, but cozy space with a small, overstuffed loveseat and a little table to put books on. She settled into her usual spot on the left side of the couch, closest to the shelved wall, and picked up a book she had left on the table. It was a very old book made from animal hide and its title was in an ancient native american language. The cover and pages were filled with symbols and descriptions that were in the same language as the title. 

Amelia flipped through a few of the pages, casually brushing up on her knowledge of magical symbology. She stopped for a moment and wondered if she should hide the book and others like it, should Lukas see it. He may not be able to read many of the writings, but he would be sure to recognize at least some of the symbols and their purpose. If he were to see the books, he would surely figure out that she was also a magic user. 

There aren't very many nations who can use magic, the only ones who can are Norway, Belarus, Romania, and England, as well as Scotland, North Ireland, and Wales, but to a lesser extent. The main magic users even formed a club of sorts. 

Amelia's magic was different than theirs, however, and was often considered more dangerous. There are three types of magic: elemental, runic, and external. External magic is the magic in spells and potions, not too hard to learn as long as one is interested enough and has at least some magical power. Runic magic is the use of symbols to channel magic, and is a pain to use but very effective and commonly confused with external magic. Elemental magic is just as it sounds, it is the channeling of the elements through magic. This type of magic requires a natural, inborn power, meaning it can't be learned by those who don't already have the means to use it. 

The nations who are capable of using magic, such as Norway, are limited to using only external and runic magic, though they tend to stick to external. Amelia, however, uses all three, having a natural ability to control elemental magic, much like her three siblings. She is fascinated by magic, and as close to an expert on the subject as one could be. It had never crossed her mind to share with the other magical nations that she too used magic, and it probably never would. She and her siblings are the only elemental casters alive, and one too many horrific experiences with humans has taught them to keep their magic under wraps. You see, elemental magic is much different from the other types of magic, it is much older and much stronger, causing many to view those who wield it as dangerous people. Even the nations who are familiar with magic could see her as a threat to be taken out.

Amelia frowned, she really wasn't sure if nations would be any more open to elemental casters than humans were, but she didn't want to risk it. Most didn't even seem to take external magic seriously, who knows how they would react in the presence of elemental magic. Prussia and Denmark knew, but only to an extent. They had even had previous experiences with at least external magic and yet they had still looked at her differently when she showed them a small amount of her magic, before she explained things to them. Their reactions had both been different, but not entirely negative, just surprised, very surprised, and a bit nervous. They have always been nice to her, but most other nations have not, and were much more likely to view her as a threat, should they find out.

 The other four Nordics have been very kind to her, and she honestly loved talking and interacting with them, but she couldn't let them know. It could ruin it all, and that wasn't a risk she was willing to take. 

She got up and placed the book back into the bookcase to her right, on the very top shelf, like most of the other magic-related books in the house, and one by one she turned each of the books around so that their spines were facing in and their pages were facing outwards. Now if they were to see them, they wouldn't look interesting enough for them to bother to climb onto the table to reach them. Unless, of course, Sweden came in here, he was the only other one in the house tall enough to reach them, but she doubted he would bother with them.

She didn't think any of them would actually come in here, really, but she didn't want to chance it, she had already been careless enough. Her momentary loss of control over her aura, or magical signature, during the last meeting had been reckless. When Norway had asked to ride with her she had thought for sure that he was going to confront her about it. Thankfully, though, he didn't bring it up and she hoped that maybe he hadn't actually sensed it at all. Still, she chastised herself for it, she needed to keep better control over her emotions and, in turn, her magic. 

Sitting back down, she plucked an Agatha Christie novel from a nearby shelf in the bookcase to her left and began to reread it. The lack of light didn't bother her in the slightest, as she could still see almost as clearly as she could during the day. She knew it wasn't exactly normal, but she remembers her other, older, native siblings being able to do similar things so it didn't perturb her in the least.

It didn't take long for her to become lost in the book, enveloped by its carefully crafted murder mystery, but, soon enough, the shining sun reminded her of the time. As she sat sideways on the couch, its golden rays shone through the glass of the window behind her, catching her in the eye and telling her it must be around six in the morning. 

The sound of a couch creaking, followed by footsteps above her on the other side of the house told her that someone was awake. She didn't look up from her book, but listened to his footsteps. It had to be Matthias based on the location he was coming from and the sound of his footsteps: not as heavy as Sweden, but not as light as Norway. Amelia listened as the footsteps made their way across the upstairs hallway, down the stairs, and past the library before stopping abruptly. He must have caught a glimpse of her as he walked by. She heard him move back towards the library door to peek through.

"Hi, Matt," Amelia greeted casually, still not looking up from her book.

"How did you know it was me?" He asked coming in to sit next to her. 

She felt the couch dip under his weight but didn't look up yet, she really wanted to finish this page. "I heard you get up, I'm pretty familiar with the sound of your footsteps by now."

"You heard?- but these walls are pretty thick, 'meils. How could you have heard me all the way from the other side of the house?" He seemed mildly surprised, though she didn't see why.

Finally, she looked up from her book to give him a mischievous smirk. A look that told Matthias she was amused by his confusion and probably not going to give him a straight answer. She giggled, "I don't know why you still ask questions like that, you should know by now that I do what I do and I don't question it." 

Matthias shook his head and leaned back into the couch, "You're weird."

"Why, thank you," Amelia replied as she set her book down on the table, making sure to stick a tissue from a nearby box in between the pages she left off on before closing it. 

"You okay?" He asked, his expression morphing into one of mild concern as he shifted to face her on the couch. 

Amelia paused and blinked, the sudden question catching her off guard, "Uhh, yeah, why?" She asked as she shifted to face him as well.

"It's kinda early to be up, and you look like you've been here reading for a while. Add that to your early morning jog yesterday... you haven't been sleeping well again, have you?" An edge of seriousness that he rarely held bled into his voice.

Amelia looked at him, taking in his features and studying his rare expression before looking away and letting a small, dry smile creep onto her face, "Actually, last night was one of my better nights sleep-wise."

"So your insomnia's back, huh?" Something told Matthias that it never really left his friend at all. "... Has England called you lately? Prussia told me that you got one of his calls the other night... didn't give any specifics but it sounded like it was pretty bad."

Amelia's smile slid right off of her face. Strained silence settled over them, tight and uncomfortable as she tried to think of how to answer him. She ran a hand over her face, she had figured Prussia might tell him but she had hoped it wouldn't be brought up in conversation. Amelia prided herself on her strength, not just physical strength, and found she did not like the idea of people knowing of her moments of weakness, even if they were close friends. "... Yeah, he called, but I can handle him just fine."

"I'm not saying you can't, I just mean that you shouldn't have to. For god's sake, he should be over it by now, he's a grown ass man after all, you'd think he'd just get over it." Matthias was frustrated, he wished England would stop pulling Amelia down into his pit of misery. He wanted to hug her, to give her some sort of comfort that he knows England never did, but he knew she wouldn't be comfortable with that. She puts up with his and Gilbert's friendly surprise hugs sometimes, sure, but he can tell they usually make her uncomfortable.

Amelia grunted in amusement, "You'd think." She sighed and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. 

"Why do you even answer his calls, anyways?"

"He's still my father, and-"

"Tch, some father."

"And I don't want him to get hurt in some stupid bar," Amelia said, opening her eyes just wide enough to glare at the Dane for interrupting her. "Besides," she added, turning her eyes toward the ceiling, "even if I wanted to ignore him, he just keeps calling when I don't pick up and I can't block him because we need to be able to reach each other for work." Matthias grumbled under his breath, crossing his arms in irritation. She smacked him lightly on the arm and smiled, "Come on, lighten up. It only happens for one month at the most, then it's smooth sailing the rest of the year." A partial lie, the Brit's still an ass when he's sober.

Her friend's scowl loosened and she took the opportunity to pull him up by the arm and drag him with her to the kitchen. "Woah, hey! What are you doing?" He asked.

"You are going to help me make breakfast," Amelia glanced at her watch, "we have about two and a half hours before we need to be on our way to the meeting so you are going to help whether you like it or not." 

"You could have just said please," Matthias remarked as she pulled him along with her arm hooked around his. They arrived in the kitchen and Amelia had him make bacon on the forwardmost burner on the right of the stove while she prepared to make eggs on the left. She hadn't even cracked an egg before Tino pulled a tired looking Berwald into the kitchen with him in a way that almost perfectly mirrored how Amelia had brought Matthias in barely ten minutes before.

"I hope we didn't oversleep, I forgot to set the alarm on my phone last night," Tino said, looking well rested and bright as always.

"Actually, your timing's perfect. Do you prefer scrambled or sunny-side-up?" Amelia asked, showing the egg in her hand.

"Oh, scrambled, please," Tino replied.

Both Amelia and Tino looked at Berwald, their eyes asking him the same question. He caught on quickly enough and responded, "Same."

"M'kay, two scrambled eggs," Amelia said, turning back to the stove as Matthias poked at some half-cooked bacon with a spatula. "Did you guys sleep okay?" She asked, looking over her shoulder at them briefly.

Tino and Berwald settled on the kitchen stools as Tino answered, "Oh, yes, I slept like a rock, did you, Berwald?" He turned to the Swede who simply nodded in agreement.

Amelia smiled, "That's good," she said, ignoring the look Matthias was giving her. The rest of the morning went smoothly, with the others waking up shortly after Tino and Berwald. Eggs were served and only two pieces of bacon were burnt, which Tino made Matthias eat since they were still edible.  

After breakfast, everyone went upstairs to get dressed and Amelia refreshed her concealment spell so it wouldn't wear off in the middle of the meeting. The spell was simple enough, she drew ruins on her face with concealer so that the runic magic wouldn't let any of her scars or her eyes show. The ruins disappeared as soon as she finished the spell. Since they were made with concealer, all she had to do to get rid of it was use a makeup blender.

 It was decided that Sealand could come to the meeting, but only because there was no one to watch over him at the house, and he was told specifically to stay in the lobby of the building. From there, the building's security could watch him to keep him out of trouble. It may seem harsh, but Finland did not want to leave him unsupervised and vulnerable, plus he didn't want him alone at America's house. 

The seven of them left America's house for the meeting building a little early, having packed the Nordics' luggage into their van faster than expected. This time, Denmark and Sealand rode with America, who led the van of remaining Nordics to the meeting place. They made excellent time and arrived twenty minutes early to the building. 

First, Sealand was dropped off at the lobby, and the security guard assured the group he would be happy to watch over the boy. He seemed like a decent man, certainly friendly, but America slipped Peter a pocket knife before they left for the meeting room, just in case. 

Plenty of people were already in the meeting room when they arrived. America and Denmark broke away from their group to greet their friend Prussia, who seemed very lively this morning. The three caught each other up on what had happened since they last spoke. Prussia jokingly called America a softy upon hearing she had taken the Nordics in for the night, and tried to give her a noogie, only getting as far as hooking an arm around her before she twisted it into a hold behind his back. He yelped and she let go after a second or two, not intending to hurt him, giving him a playful slap on the back of the head as he sent her a fake glare. 

Germany called the meeting into session, and the three friends went to take their seats as other nations took theirs as well. The formation of nations perfectly mirrored that of yesterday's meeting, minus the switching of Spain and France. England once again sat next to America, not speaking to or even looking at her as he rubbed his temples, apparently dealing with a hangover. 

The meeting went on as usual with the inevitable fighting and America found herself missing the little table gremlin more than she thought she would. Somehow the fighting was even worse than it was yesterday, and they still hadn't gotten through the first topic of discussion yet. All the yelling was starting to give America a headache, she propped her head up on the table with her left arm as Spain and England yelled at each other about something that happened centuries ago. She looked over towards the head of the table where Germany had stopped trying to gain back control of the meeting, opting instead to rummage through his bag for what America assumed was Ibuprofen. Looking to Germany's right, America could see her friend Prussia, who looked like he regretted coming to this meeting and was holding his head similarly to how she was holding hers but with both arms instead of just one. They locked eyes, and after a moment Prussia mouthed the words 'help me' before turning his attention to his younger brother, who had almost elbowed him in the face while rummaging through his bag, and smacking the back of his head. 

America wasn't sure why, maybe it was the unexpectedness of her friend's actions or maybe it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to her, but for some reason her sleep deprived brain found what Prussia had done absolutely hysterical. She tried to hold it in, but it didn't work for long and before she knew it she was laughing out loud in the midst of all the chaos and yelling. Prussia noticed and, knowing he had likely caused her outburst, laughed as well. The Nordics and America's siblings noticed as well but, unlike the Prussian, looked more concerned than amused. America sat back in her chair and tried to get ahold of herself, covering her mouth with her hand.

"What the bloody hell are you laughing at, you brat?" England yelled at her, turning away from Spain to focus his rage on her.

"Dude, you're like, right next to my ear, you don't have to yell," America said,  putting an end to her laughing fit.

"Do you think this is a bloody joke?" England asked, his fury not dying down one bit. America just waved him off dismissively, not caring enough to deal with his tantrum. She turned away, this only angering him more. Seeing a blur in the corner of her eye, America instinctively moved her hand to block whatever was coming at her. Looking up she saw she had caught England's wrist, the back of his hand barely two inches from her face. Her expression went blank, the only traces of emotion that could be seen were that of irritation, she had really had enough of him. She stared at the back of his hand, confirming to herself what England had just tried to do. Slowly, her stare inched over to his wrist, then his face, his angered and stupidly shocked face. They locked eyes, her stare burning its way to his soul as she saw the resolve in his eyes slowly crumble under her gaze.

"What the fuck are you thinkin', man?!" She heard her uncle Scott yell at her father from a few seats over. Most of the fights had paused to watch the two as America rose to her feet, not taking her eyes off of England's. Once she had risen to her full height, she was at least three inches taller than the 5 foot 9 male (175cm), but he didn't seem to back down. He did stay silent however, the growing pressure around his wrist telling him just how thin the ice he was treading really was. 

Finally America spoke, her voice even and calm, almost too calm for the situation, "Now, what kind of gentleman hits a lady?" she asked before her voice went lower and she leaned closer to him so that only he could hear her. "I'm sick of this shit. Leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone, got it?" She heard a tiny crack in his wrist and let go, turning away from him to sit back down, her expression going back to near-normal with a small, humorless smile. 

England stood there for a second, rubbing his wrist, before recovering from his shock at her sudden change in disposition before he scoffed indigently.  He opened his mouth to say something but Germany beat him to it. "Alright," he yelled authoritatively, "it looks like everyone could use a break, I'm calling a fifteen minute recess!" That caught everyone's attention and most of the nations filed out of the room. England's siblings immediately walked over to drag him with them out of the room. 

 

Chapter 5: 5.

Third POV:

Soon, only a few nations were left in the room, the German and North American siblings among them. Germany was still occupied with trying to find his Ibuprofen while Prussia stood next to him trying to help speed up the process by giving suggestions as to where it might be. The Nordics had reluctantly left as well, Matthias convincing them to give the siblings time to talk instead of coming over to check if they were okay, something Amelia noticed and was grateful for. 

America stood and turned to her siblings with a smile, but Canada wasn't having it and fixed her with an expression that told her as much. She lessened her smile a bit, "Oh, quit being a sour puss. What was I supposed to do, let him hit me? No way."

"No, of course not," Matthew responded, sighing, he dropped the look and held the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, as if he were getting a headache.

"You should have punched him," Amelia's sister, West Mexico, stated a-matter-of-factly. 

"Maria!" Matthew turned to chastise his younger sister while her twin laughed, patting her on the back, and Amelia gave her a big smile.

"What? All it would take is one punch."

"That's doesn't matter!"

"Sure it does, everyone else would be too freaked out to retaliate."

"That's the problem, Maria! Excessive violence will only make her a bigger target," Matthew said, lowering his voice.

"Mattie, give it a rest," Amelia said, putting her hand on her twin's shoulder, "It'll be fine. I'm sure he'll only have a bruise for an hour or two until it heals," she reasoned. 

She began to get the feeling they were being watched and looked over, past her siblings and at the opposite side of the table, to see that Russia was watching them with curious eyes. "Come on," she said, putting an arm around her twin as she began leading her siblings out of the room, "let's get some fresh air while we still can." 

At that, the four of them walked out of the room and to the lobby, America taking the time to wave at Denmark and the other Nordics before going out the door with her siblings. They ended up staying there for the rest of the break, sitting on the metal benches and catching up with each other, planning on staying the night at America's house so they could have a sibling day, something they all felt they desperately needed.

Back inside, nations began gathering in the meeting room once again, the fifteen minutes not seeming nearly as long as they were. England stormed into the meeting room, heading back to his seat near the head of the table, having angerly broken away from his siblings moments earlier. They had been chastising him for trying to hit their niece, his daughter, until he got fed up with them telling him how to act towards his own child. It wasn't his fault she was being a brat. He plopped down into his chair, not noticing France get up from his.

France wasn't much happier with England's behavior towards their daughter than England's siblings were. He learned from his mistake yesterday, however, and got a few seats away from him, so he was standing near the head of the table, before confronting him. "Your treatment of Amérique, 'as become ridiculous, Angleterre," the frenchman said, glancing briefly at the still-steady stream of nations entering the room, many of whom had taken to standing on the left side of the room, sensing the fight between France and England before it truly started.

He ignored the other nations and turned once more towards England, who's head had snapped up to look at him, anger very apparent on his face. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!" the englishman snapped angerly, standing once more.

"You tried to 'it 'er because she was laughing, mon cher, don't you sink zat is a little far?" Spectating nations had formed a small crowd on the other side of the room, something France wasn't entirely peeved about, mostly because he wouldn't be surprised if he ended up needing someone to step in and stop a possible fist-fight.

"A little far? Look at this!" England yelled, holding up his wrist that had a hand-shaped bruise around it. "This is a little far! Damn brat thinks she can do whatever she wants!"

France could tell that there would be no reasoning with England, not today. "Why don't you just leave ze meeting, okay?"

"You want me to leave? Just try and make me," England said, he was blinded by emotions, and not a single one of them was positive. His mixed rage and sorrow over America leaving him all those many decades ago, the embarrassment of being overpowered by her, and his anger over France having the audacity to tell him to leave all swirled in his mind -- making him an unpredictable vessel of rage.

England pulled out his wand, aiming it at France. The frenchman gasped and moved farther around the table, England following him with his wand, keeping it aimed at the man's chest. "Put zat down, England!" France yelled, nervousness getting the better of him. While most of England's spells tended to backfire, he knew there was a chance of them working and doing some serious damage.

"Why should I? Are you afraid of my 'fake magic' hurting you?" England asked in a mocking tone. 

France moved farther around the table. By now, almost everyone in the room was yelling, some were egging him on, not expecting his spell to work, while most were yelling at him to put his wand down. 

Prussia had moved to the corner behind England, pulling his younger brother with him. Germany was at a loss, his only options were to stand back and let things play out, or to grab England and his wand. As he looked over, though, he saw that the choice had been made for him. Once England had began to recite a spell, his brother, Scotland, tackled him to the ground.

"Idus-ack!" Just as England was about to zap France with magical energy, his brother grabbed him and forced him to the floor. What Scotland failed to realize, though, is that the spell still left the wand in a ball of green energy which turned to white as it moved. The sudden movement of the wand as the ruined spell had left it had jerked it away from France and the other nations, redirecting it to the door they had came through. 

----------

Canada looked over from his spot on the bench outside, seeing through the glass that there were no longer any nations in the lobby. "Hey, guys," he said as he turned to his siblings who were still goofing around, "I think our fifteen minutes are up." He gestured to the lobby. 

His siblings looked to the building, coming to the same conclusion as he did, and groaned. "Well, guess we should get going. Upsy-daisys," America said as she stood up and hoisted her little sister up with her by the arm. Maria groaned again but remained standing.

The four of them made their way back into the building and to the meeting room. When they arrived outside of the closed door to the meeting room they hesitated. "Why is everyone yelling already?" Diego (East Mexico) asked, "We can't be that late, right? I mean, we're only like two minutes behind."

Amelia shrugged, "I dunno, this meeting has definitely been crazier than most, though, so I bet England and Papa are fighting again, or him and Spain, who knows." She stepped past her brothers to open the door. Grabbing the handle roughly before yanking it open, only to immediately be face-to-face with a ball of white light heading straight for them. 

America heard Maria shriek, startled by the sudden appearance of the stray spell. She reacted immediately, her brothers were on either side of her and her sister was behind her and to the right a little. Both of her arms shot out, shoving her brothers away from the doorway, she stepped backwards, planning on turning to tackle her little sister so they could both avoid the spell, but she wasn't fast enough. The ball of light hit her square in the chest before she had even taken a full step.

The white light engulfed America's body, making her flesh glow pure white. There was a female scream, then, in a flash of light, America disappeared, and specks of shimmering white magic littered the air. Her jacket, shoes, and previously concealed weapons fell into a pile where she had once stood. The room went silent, the nations were dumbfounded. "Oh, no," Scotland muttered, getting up to stare at the doorway where his niece had vanished, his brother's wand in hand. 

Diego was the first to react, "What the hell did you do to mi hermana?!" he demanded as he got up, immediately going for England. 

Fortunately for England, Prussia and Denmark got to him first. Prussia roughly yanking him up off the ground from behind as Denmark grabbed a fistful of his shirt from the front, a menacing look having made its way to his face. "England, what the fuck did you do?" he asked lowly, suddenly wishing he had brought his battle axe.

Most of the nations were unsure of how to react, but those who were familiar with magic glared at him. Maria had recovered from her shock and helped Matthew up, who rubbed the arm Amelia had pushed him in as the two of them went to stand beside their brother, who had stopped short upon seeing his sister's friends grab the brit. He stood there clenching and unclenching his fists as they awaited England's reply. His siblings saw this and each of them took one of his hands in theirs, attempting to comfort both their brother and themselves.

"Vell?" Prussia spat, tightening his already harsh grip on the englishman's arms as he held him facing Denmark. Both nations looked unusually fierce, their expressions were of such strong hate and anger that it actually frightened England and some of the other nations.

"I had no intention of doing that," England said quickly, "I just wanted to give France a little zap for being a twat! If he hadn't pushed me, the spell never would have backfired!"

"Are you tryin' ta blame this on me?" Scotland asked, fury leaking into his words. He turned away from the now empty doorway to shout at his brother, "You shouldn'a had your wand out in the first place! Ya shoulda controlled yer stupid temper!" 

"Enough! Everyone enough!" Germany yelled, he was sick and tired of everyone just screaming at each other. "England, vhat happened to America? She isn't dead, is she?"

Before England could gather the courage to speak again, Norway answered for him. "His spell sent her to another dimension," he said, his normally flat voice holding an edge to it, "I sensed it." 

Instead of Denmark turning to him, like Norway had expected, he just kept his gaze trained on England while Canada looked to him instead. "Where did it take her, Norway?" 

Surprisingly, everyone heard him, which led to some nations in the corner muttering amongst themselves wondering who he was while Norway answered him reluctantly. "Um... well, you know the spell we created for war criminals after world war 2?" At that everyone's attention snapped to him, dreading his next words.

Canada's face paled, as did Prussia and Denmark's, who both turned to Norway as well. "...Yeah?" Canada prompted, his voice giving away his unease and fear for what Norway would say next.

"The magical signatures of that spell and the backfired spell were the same."

Diego's face morphed into an expression filled with rage, he may have not been sure what exactly Norway was talking about, but based on his older brother's reaction, it wasn't good, and that really pissed him off. No one, NO ONE hurt his siblings and got away with it. He turned back to England and ran at the brit, jerking him out of Prussia's grip and onto the floor where he began punching him repeatedly. Neither the Dane nor the Prussian did anything to stop him, in fact, they looked almost as if they were enjoying watching Mexico beat the crap out of England. Not even Germany lifted a finger to help, being unable to dredge up even a morsel of sympathy for the man after hearing what he had done. Maria probably would have cheered him on had the circumstances been different. 

Eventually, France walked over to halfheartedly pull East Mexico from the now bruised and bleeding brit. Maria also went forward, gently helping up her brother and tugging him back to where Matthew and their uncle Scotland stood. "Ok," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation, "what the hell did you guys do to nazi war criminals?"

France spoke up, after setting England down in a chair so his wounds could heal. The Mexicos and a number of other nations hadn't been at the meetings where they had dealt the extra punishment to those criminals. Not everyone involved in the war had deemed it necessary to go to the extra post-war meetings.  "After ze war," he began, "many of us at ze meetings insisted zat a greater punishment be dealt to convicted nazi war criminals. England, Romania, Norway, and Belarus created a spell zat sends a person to a pocket dimension designed specifically by zem to play through many of ze person's memories as we watched through what zey called a 'dimensional rift'. Zey would alter zeir spell at ze meetings to fit whatever punishment we deemed appropriate, sometimes going as far as to 'ave the memories of their victims drive zem mad."

"It was pretty bad," Matthew told her, "and only the nations who were the most involved in the war attended those meetings, America and I stopped after the first two."

"Well there has to be a way to get her out!" Diego exclaimed, "We can't just sit here and watch while she's reliving all of the worst moments in her life!"

"It can't be reversed," Norway said, "that was the only big problem with the spell. We can't stop it, we can only alter what is being played-"

"Well then set it to one memory so she can be done!"

Norway sighed, "You didn't let me finish, we can only alter what is being played to a point, meaning all we can do is leave it at its default settings and hope for the best. I'm sorry, we never anticipated it being used on a nation."

"What are the default settings?" Maria asked.

"Randomly selected memories from the beginning of a person's life to their most recent memories made outside of the pocket dimension," Norway answered apologetically. "And before you ask, we can't make everyone leave either."

"Why not?!" Diego yelled.

"It's another one of the spell's bugs, we never really perfected it. It needs to have a certain amount of the witnesses to the spell's casting to watch it play out, or at least be in the room as it works. We're not sure why, it probably has something to do with how it collects energy to function, but we're not sure."

"Tch, fucking great," Diego said, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

"Well, we can at least start sending people out to see how many it takes before it stops working, right?" Maria suggested.

Norway nodded in agreement and formed a circle with England and Belarus, Romania having skipped the meeting, in order to open the dimensional rift. They began chanting while Germany instructed everyone to get back in their seats. Eventually, a large black rectangle sputtered into existence about four feet in the air in front of the head of the meeting table. As the magical nations made their way back to their seats, the image cleared to show an unconscious America in what looked to be a black void with a door in the background.

Her bomber jacket and uniform top were gone, having been left in the meeting room along with her weapons and shoes. It seemed the spell didn't allow her to keep anything on her person except for the bare minimum of clothing. All she had was her black tank top she had worn under her shirt, her pants, and presumably her undergarments, not even her hair tie had transported with her. Which reminded Canada to go pick his sisters personal belongings up out of the doorway before someone else did. He returned to his seat quickly and shoved his sister's things into her bag. 

"Why is she just lying there?" China asked.

"She won't wake up until we make her, remember?" England said, still irritated and receiving many glares as he spoke, from America's siblings, friends, relatives, and even the Nordics, and Japan.

Germany surveyed the table, he noticed that those who he knew to be closest to America were sitting near the front of the table. Knowing that it would be more appropriate for people close to America to view her memories, he began instructing people at the back of the table to leave the room. He did this one by one as the magical nations kept an eye on the dimensional rift that they were viewing America through. Finland stopped Estonia briefly on his way out, asking him to take Sealand to his hotel with him, as he knew that they would probably be here for the rest of the day at least. 

One by one the nations left the room until it was Austria's turn. As he left the room, Belarus saw the door in the void disappear and the rift flicker. "Wait!" she called out, making the Austrian stop in his tracks and several nations jump, "That's the limit," she said, quieter this time, and turned to Germany, "Tell him to come back, no one else can leave if we want her back in our dimension anytime soon."

Germany signaled to Austria with a beckoning motion of his hand. Austria came back into the room and sat down in his seat. "Well, at least we cut the number of people watching down to about half, right?" Maria said, trying to be optimistic.

"Yeah, I guess," Diego reluctantly agreed, looking around to see who was left, "Wait a second, why is he here?!" Diego pointed a finger at Russia, who merely smiled back. "We need to call Switzerland back and switch him with Russia!" 

"Switzerland's probably left the building already," Belarus said as Diego got up, likely to head for the door, "and it's not like your sister is immune to hunger or exhaustion, so let's get started already."

Diego stopped, Belarus was right, he reluctantly sat back down, ready to start. "It's not all bad," Russia spoke up, "Amerika and I were once friends, and sometimes still are, just not at the moment." 

The Russian's words did nothing to put America's siblings at ease, but they turned to Norway anyways and asked him to begin the spell. He held out his hand, said a few words, and a tiny orb of blue magic formed. It spun over his palm momentarily before flying towards the rift and becoming absorbed in the inky black of the dimension's void. Belarus and England followed suit, their magic orbs being magenta and green, respectively, both of which also flew into the rift. 

It didn't take long for America to open her eyes and look around in surprise.

Chapter 6: 6.

America awoke to find herself in what appeared to be a completely black space, she couldn't see a ceiling and she couldn't tell the difference between the floor and the walls, if there even were any. She sat up quickly, is she dead? She noticed her magic felt numb, a very strange sensation, like there were cold pins and needles where sensations of warmth and electricity had once been. Looking all around her, eventually her eyes fell upon a door, a dark gray door that almost blended in with its surroundings. The door looked oddly familiar, like she had seen it a long time ago, but where? Where has she seen a door like this? It isn't very standard looking, with a large octagon carved in its center, a triangle within it, and four rectangles in each corner of the door. The handle was one of those metal pull door handles, like a rotated version of the handles on her kitchen drawers at home. Its gray color looked slightly purple, and it seemed to be made out of-

"No."

She recognized it now.

"Oh, fuck, this is not happening."

It was the same door she saw in the pocket dimension that Norway, Belarus, Romania, and her father had created to punish Nazi war criminals decades ago.

"Looks like she recognizes the spell," Belarus commented. Japan ran a hand over his face, he did not feel right watching his former friend's private memories, even though they hadn't gotten to that point quite yet it still made him feel a little sick. Prussia and Denmark seemed to have similar reactions, as well as a few other nations in the room, but none of them said anything.

America stood up and clenched her fists in rage all of her anger rushing to the surface in a violent burst, "England, you fucking idiot!" She yelled, baring her teeth. "When I get out of here I'll gut you like wild game, ya hear? I know you're fucking watching! I'll mangle you so damn bad no one will recognize ya! Argh!" She stopped, taking deep breaths as she tried to calm herself. She knew yelling at someone she couldn't even see wouldn't do her any good, but it made her feel a little better. Pacing around the space, she raised her hands to grip at her hair, trying to calm her intermingling rage and panic. She remembered what this spell did, and she did not want anyone watching any of her memories, hell, she didn't want to watch her memories.

Many nations were taken aback by her outburst. The most violent they had ever seen her at the meetings was that one time she threw a chair at Russia, but there had been no screaming then, no threats to mangle his body. England sank down in his chair, knowing that as soon as this was over with she would likely attack him. Feliciano squinted for a moment before turning to Germany, "Hey, I think-a something's wrong-a with her eyes," he said. 

Other nations heard this as well and looked closer, seeing that her once sky blue eyes had turned a blood red. Some also noticing the number of scars that littered her skin, but no one said anything about that bit out of a sense of understanding. A number of the nations murmured to each other about her eyes, while others stayed silent. Prussia, Denmark, and America's siblings, who knew why her eyes were red, made no contributions to their fellow nations' discussions, opting instead to stay quiet. Norway had an idea as to why her eyes had turned, just as he had an idea as to why he sometimes felt flickers of magic from her, but he too stayed silent, not wanting to expose something she clearly didn't want out in the open if it didn't have to be.

America looked around once more, still pacing absentmindedly, she knows that she won't be able to get out without going through that odd door. She faintly remembers hearing one of the creators of this spell mention that magic was nullified in this dimension, which explained the numb feeling in her magic and eliminates her one option for escape. Not wanting to move forward, she hesitated, standing still once more with one hand still gripping at her hair. She stared at the door as she tried to gather the courage to step forward and relive the past. Squaring her shoulders, America took a breath to steady herself and stepped towards the door, her bare feet not making a sound as she walked. She rested her hand on the handle, feeling its cool metal surface for only a moment before she yanked it open, knowing that if she hesitated much longer she might lose her nerve. A bright light blinded her and her hands shot up automatically to shield her eyes. Once she could see again, she found herself in the middle of an old Native American village situated in a clearing deep in the woods. 

Slowly, she turned in a circle, surveying her surroundings. She didn't recognize this village, though she wasn't very surprised, if she was correctly remembering how this spell works, this is one of her earliest memories. Once she had seen all she could from where she stood, she determined that she must have forgotten what happened here long ago.

"Dehena!"

"Gadono?"

"Sdena!"

Voices shouted in the distance. America looked to the edge of the clearing to see three women running into the woods. One, the oldest from what she could tell, was several paces ahead while the other two were running after her, the one in braids pulling the other along by the wrist. Intrigued, America ran after them, curious to see what was happening.

----------

"Vhat language is zat?" Austria asked, furrowing his brows.

"I can't understand it!" Spain stated, apparently irritated by that fact.

"Yes. Can't we add subtitles or something since no one here can translate?" England asked, turning to Norway. Canada and the Mexicos traded mixed looks, both insulted by his insinuation that they couldn't understand the Cherokee language and glad they wouldn't have to translate everything for the other nations.

Norway knitted his brows together, thinking. "We should be able to."

"Vait, vait. Jou guys can add subtitles to a dimensional rift?" Germany asked, not understanding how such a thing would work, "Und have zem be accurate?"

Nodding his head, Norway continued, "Yes, but we need someone who can understand the language first." He looked up to the North Americans in the room, sending them a questioning look.

"Alright, what do you need us to do?" Maria asked, her gaze fixed on Norway.

He stood up, reaching his hand over the table to Maria. She reached over the table as well and let Norway take her hand into his. Holding her hand with both of his, Norway chanted a few words until Maria's hand began to glow. A stream of golden magic flowed steadily from the center of Maria's hand to the rift as if it were some sort of thread. Quickly, the thread thinned, before leaving her hand entirely and floating into the rift.

"Did it work?" France asked.

"We will see," Norway responded as he sat back in his seat.

----------

America ran through the woods, following a few paces behind the women. They were on a well worn path that led to a stream. America could hear the rushing water even as she ran behind the women, with no water in sight. 

After a few minutes, the women slowed to a rushed walk and so did America, not getting too close to the apparitions of women long dead. They came upon a large stream with steady, deep waters. A group of people, mostly girls, were gathered near the water's edge. 

America walked closer, though still keeping her distance, to see that they were all gathered around a single woman. She sat with her back to them and was dressed in a way that suggested she was of high status. The woman faced the stream, her body still as a statue. No one around her spoke, they seemed to be waiting for something. 

Finally, the woman spoke, rising to her feet to tower above the others but not turning around, "Selu has spoken to me." The woman spoke calmly, her voice smooth and yet strong, like a gentle breeze, not rushed yet still pushing on. "She says the spirit of a tribal embodiment has been sent to us, and will arrive with the setting of the sun."

----------

"Oh, good, the subtitle thing-a worked," Romano commented as golden, English words appeared at the bottom of the rift.

"Shhhh!"

----------

 "But mother!" One of the girls said, alarmed, "There are no new tribes for them to embody, and no wars are being waged to cause the splitting of one of our tribes. What will our new sibling embody?"

America recognized them all now, it had been so long that she had almost forgotten what her oldest siblings had looked like, and her mother. Time had long since warped their faces in her memories.

The woman turned around to face her children. She was tall, slender, and beautiful, just how America remembered her. She wore a deer hide dress decorated with beads and shells and had a wolf hide around her shoulders, held in place by a large shell which two thin pieces of the hide were tied around. Feathers were intertwined in her hair that she wore in one long braid reaching the backs of her thighs.

"I have asked Selu the same thing, she says that they must embody a collection of tribes for now, until a people for them to represent appears," the woman spoke in an authoritative tone that seemed to flow like the water of the stream behind her. 

"So... our new sibling was created too early?" One of America's sisters asked their mother.

Native America nodded, "Even the spirits make mistakes sometimes, and your sibling cannot be kept in the spirit realm much longer without damaging their souls," she says with a nod.

----------

Norway looked through the rift in awe, he had not expected her mother to be one of the ancients, which she must have been going by her looks, he had thought she and her siblings were too young. The woman was at least nine feet tall, which went along with the descriptions he had heard of the other ancients. Most of the nations in the room looked surprised, even awestruck. The North American siblings simply stared longingly at the image of their now-deceased mother, while China looked to be reminiscing in his head about times long past.

For some, though, the awe didn't last long as the images of people discussed the arrival of a new sibling, likely America. "What the bloody hell are they talking about? This isn't how nations are created, you can't predict when they will appear, much less exactly where!" England said, rather loudly, confusion clear in his tone as he spoke.

Mostly, he just received glares, but Finland eventually responded to him, his tone curt and soured, "It sounds like the mother was speaking to whatever deity they worship, that's probably how they know."    

"Wha- But-"

"Arthur," Scotland said, his tone sharp, "it doesn't matter, just be quiet."

England glanced around, seeing the many glares being shot his way. He scoffed, but, other than that, remained silent, not wanting anyone to act upon their obvious displeasure with him like Diego had earlier.

----------

 The tribes began excitedly talking with each other, debating what their new sibling would look like and whether they would be a girl or a boy. 

The image faded out into black for a moment before fading back in on the same scene, this time at dusk and with many more tribes present. 

Golden rays of sun peaked out from behind the foliage of the trees on the other side of the stream as tribes talked amongst themselves. Their excited chatter filled the air like the chirping of birds. It must have been a long time since a tribe had been born, as all of the tribes present looked to be young teens at least.

Before long, Native America emerged from the path behind the large group and made her way to the water, her children going quiet and clearing a path for her as she walked. As she stood at the water's edge, two tribes walked up to be on either side of her. America recognized them as her sister, Hopi, on her mother's left, and her brother, Cherokee, on her mother's right, two of her oldest siblings. Native America placed one of her hands on each of her two children's backs before gently pushing them towards the water. 

She released her children and they both continued to walk until they were just over waist deep in the stream. They stopped and turned to face each other in one practiced motion, as if they had done this a hundred times before. Native America raised her hands in front of her, holding them there as if she were carrying a tray. Soon enough, her hands began to glow a bright purple and a spot in the air above the water, between her two children, began to glow the same hue, gently swirling with magic.

The swirling magic slowly began to take up a humanoid form, like a toddler in the fetal position. Younger tribes stared in awe as they watched their baby sibling take form. Readying themselves, the two tribes in the stream held out their arms, preparing to catch their sibling with a competitive glint in their eyes. If America remembers correctly, the tribe to catch their baby sibling determines the gender of the child. Should the child fall to the left, towards the female tribe, then they would be a female, if they fall to the right, towards the male tribe, they would be male. 

As the swirling magic began to calm down, the solid figure of a toddler could be seen through the purple haze. The haze slowly cleared around the floating child and, once it had dispersed completely, the child fell out of the air. The two tribes in the stream moved closer, as the child had not been pushed too far from center by the wind. Nearing the surface of the water, the child let out a frightened cry before she was caught by her sister, Hopi. 

Adjusting the child in her arms, Hopi gave her brother a smirk and he splashed her playfully in return. Hopi made her way back to their mother, her brother in tow. Native America lowered her hands as her new daughter was set down on land, holding herself up with wobbly legs. 

Suddenly, Native America's hands jerked back to their earlier position, as if by an outside force. Her hands began to glow again and another swirling ball of purple magic took form over the stream. A collective gasp was heard. Hopi and Cherokee looked at each other for a moment, this was unexpected. 

Cherokee took off, hurriedly wading back into the stream with Hopi close behind. A toddler quickly took form over the stream and, within seconds, was falling towards the water. The two tribes had not quite reached their sibling's location and, not wanting the child to drown, Cherokee dove forward to catch the falling child.

Grabbing the child, the two fell under the water. As Hopi caught up, Cherokee jumped back up, holding their unexpected brother up over his head as the child coughed. "Well," Cherokee announced, "I guess we got one of each now."

Hopi payed no attention to her brother as she removed their new sibling from his grasp. "That is not how you hold a child," she scolded as she settled the boy in her arms. They walked back towards the shore again, hopefully for the last time that day, with Hopi patting her baby brother on the back as they walked to help lessen his coughing fit. 

Once they made it back to the shore, Hopi placed her baby brother next to her baby sister who seemed to be concerned for her twin. She looked him over curiously as he looked back, confused, before she hugged him with a giggle. This seemed to snap Native America out of her shocked daze. Clearing her throat, she addressed her children, "Everyone, meet your new siblings."

The tribes must have been waiting for her to say that because, as soon as she did, they flocked to their new siblings. The boy didn't seem to mind the attention, though he didn't seem thrilled either, while his sister seemed to have more mixed emotions about it. She was smiling at her older siblings, but the way she hugged her brother closer made it seem as though she didn't enjoy all of the attention very much, either.

"Okay, okay, don't crowd them, they just met us," Hopi said as she shooed the other tribes away from their baby siblings. "Mother? What are their names?" 

The tribes all turned to Native America, who had regained her composure. Calmly, she stepped towards her youngest two children, coming to sit in front of them. "Your name," she began, gesturing to her youngest daughter, "is Amayeli. You will embody the central tribes. And your name," she gestured to her son, "is Kanata, you will embody the northern tribes."

The children seemed to understand her, but instead of talking back, they merely smiled. 

Kanata appeared to be, physically, just over a year old and shared many characteristics with his present-day self. His amethyst-purple eyes and golden blond hair were nearly the same shade as they are presently, perhaps a shade darker. Unlike his siblings, his skin was rather pale, only slightly more sun-kissed than he looked as an adult. America caught a few whispers from her older siblings wondering out loud if he may be an albino as she watched them.

Amayeli looked to be about 2 years old and looked almost nothing like present-day America, except for her eyes and face shape. There was still a bright, sky-blue color to her irises, but her skin and hair were completely different. Her skin was a tanned color, not as dark as most of her older siblings, but still much darker than her current tone. Instead of bright-red hair, her past self had pitch-black hair that curled and frizzed up around her. 

----------

"Hold on," Spain said, confused, "that can't be America!"

"Well, I don't-a see any gingers in-a the memory, tomato bastard. It must be her," Romano said with a scoff.

"But she never looked like that! There must be something wrong with the spell," Spain replied indignantly.

"But she did 'ave a streak of black 'air at the back of 'er 'ead, didn't she? At least when she was young?" France said, his face scrunched up in thought.

Spain and England looked at each other blankly, "Oh come on, mes chers," France said, irritated, "you must remember somesing about 'ow she looked when she was little!" The two men still looked lost, but had enough sense to look down to the table in shame. "Mon Dieu..." France pinched the bridge of his nose in disappointment.

During this exchange, the Nordics traded looks of surprise and distant hope, but stayed quiet. After all, time does have a tendency to warp old memories.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Translation from Cherokee:  "Dehena!","Gadono?","Sdena!"  means (from what I could find) Come!, Why?,  You two, come!,          This is just what I got from a translator I found, it may not be correct.

 

 

Notes:

Translation from Cherokee: "Dehena!","Gadono?","Sdena!" means (from what I could find) "Come!," "Why?," "You two, come!"
This is just what I got from a translator I found, it may not be entirely correct.

Chapter 7: 7.

The memory faded out once again to be replaced by another. But the world looked different this time, everything seemed brighter, and the sounds were much louder than before.

----------

The spectating nations were puzzled. Germany turned to face Belarus, "Vhy does everysing look different? Is zere something wrong with the rift?"

Belarus did not answer right away, seemingly intrigued by the differences, "What we saw before was her birth, we were seeing things from an outside perspective. Now we are watching her memories as they were through her eyes." 

The nations looked at her, the rift, and then each other, not completely understanding.

Belarus sighed, "We are seeing things through the rift exactly how she sees things and the sounds are coming through as she would hear them. So if she were deaf, no sound would be coming through at all, same for the visual if she were blind, and if her hearing or vision becomes impaired during a memory, so will the visual or sounds that come through to our end."

Sounds of understanding came from the nations as they nodded.

"This... actually explains a lot," Denmark commented and Prussia nodded along. They had always wondered how their friend was able to hear them from several rooms over and navigate in the dark as if it were still light out. They had asked her a few times but each time she either acted as if she didn't know what they were talking about or straight up told them she wasn't sure how she could do those things, she just could. Now it made sense, it was just how she perceived things, her senses seemed to naturally be super sensitive, even more so than most nations', which they had previously thought was impossible.

----------

This time, Amayeli and Kanata were playing in the woods by themselves. They each looked to be about 4 years older physically, making them 6 and 5 respectively. 

Kanata ran around giggling as his sister chased him. They looked at home in the woods, climbing trees with the swift agility of squirrels and running around with twice the speed and nimbleness of deer. They chased each other up trees and large rocks, even across streams, without ever breaking their stride. 

America didn't bother to run after the tiny apparitions. She realized that, once her past self got a certain distance away, she would somehow glide across the ground. The way the land moved by, gliding under her feet despite her standing still, and how she phased through trees instead of smacking into them, made her feel like she was in a virtual reality simulator. She tried not to focus on her forced movement, however, because of how odd and unbalanced it made her feel. Instead,  she concentrated on the images of her and her brother from the very distant past.

After a few minutes, the two children made their way to a huge tree. It looked ancient and was at least two meters in diameter, with a small opening in its base. About twelve feet up the trunk of the tree, it split and then grew back together, creating an elongated opening in its center. Kanata ran by the tree, glancing up at it briefly, but Amayeli stopped her pursuit of  him entirely to stare up curiously at the opening in the tree. 

Noticing his sister had stopped chasing him, Kanata slowed down and called her name. 

"Come look at this," she responded, glancing over at him, "doesn't this look weird to you?" She pointed up at the opening near the top of the tree's trunk.

Another glance at the tree showed that there was a strange, purple sheen in the air inside of the gap. Kanata jogged back over to his sister and looked up, "What, you mean the tree? It's a weird way to grow, I guess, but it's not really that strange."

"No," Amayeli said, she pointed again at the opening, more insistent this time, "Don't you see the purple?"

Kanata squinted and took a step closer to the tree before shaking his head, "I don't see any purple, the air feels kinda weird. It's kinda like when it gets really dry and you get zapped when you touch things, but dulled and everywhere. ... Are you alright?"

Amayeli didn't answer, she just fidgeted in place.

"I'm surprised," the children jumped at the sudden appearance of their mother's voice. Native America moved towards them from her spot behind a tree. "I did not think you two would have the ability to sense magic like your siblings."

Amayeli's brow furrowed in confusion and frustration, why wouldn't they be able to do something their siblings can? She turned to face Native America fully, straightening her posture to address her mother, her brother still right behind her. "That's what the purple is? And Kanata's weird feeling?" Amayeli asked her mother.

Native America nodded, "Yes, you are each sensing magic in your own way. Kanata, you are feeling the energy of the magic, and Amayeli, you are seeing the magic's flow. You may figure out how to sense it in other ways, but your first way is always the most reliable."

Kanata moved to hug his sister's arm, "Why did you say you didn't think we would be able to sense magic? ... Does it have to do with us being born too soon?"

Their mother quieted for a moment, choosing her words carefully, "Not quite. You two were not born to represent our people, your purpose is to embody the tribes of people who have yet to come to our land. We... had to improvise a little. I did not believe that those people would have any magic or, by extension, you."

Kanata nodded and Amayeli, who had been periodically glancing back at the tree the whole time, spoke up. "Why does that tree have magic? Is the hole like a door? It feels like there's something on the other side." She asked her mother, looking up at her with a curious expression. It was an odd feeling that she couldn't find the words to describe. Amayeli's own magic, that warm, staticky feeling she had grown up with, tended to spread around her, taking in her surroundings. Her magic seemed drawn to the tree and its opening, and she got the distinct feeling that there was someone on the other side. It was like that feeling one gets when they sense they are being watched, only warmer and less threatening.

Native America seemed surprised, "... Yes, Amayeli, that is one way to put it... The opening in that tree is a portal to the spirit realm... like a door of sorts."

"But what if a monster climbs inside?" She asked, a concerned expression painting her young features, "Then the spirits would be in trouble."

Their mother chuckled, "No, no. You must have both of your souls to enter the spirit realm. The breathing soul of your body, and the free, dream soul that wanders when you sleep. Monsters only have a corrupted, half soul in their body so they are not able to enter the spirit realm."

"Can we go to the spirit realm?" Amayeli asked her mother, her face lighting up in excitement, "I reeeaaally want to see what it looks like, and meet a spirit!"

Native America seemed to contemplate the idea for a moment before shaking her head, "Not today. You can ask one of your siblings to take you tomorrow, but not today, you two must help with the washing, come along." With that, she turned and left in the direction that the siblings had came from. Kanata tugged on his sister's arm, trying to get her to follow with him. Amayeli took one last, intrigued, look at the magical tree before walking hand in hand with her brother behind their mother.

The memory faded out, being replaced with a similar one in what looked to be the same woods as before.

"Come on! Come on! You guys are so sloooow!" Amayeli said as she jumped around in front of the two older tribes. America recognized them as her sister Miwok and her brother Sioux. 

The two tribes walked at a steady pace, amused by their little sister's excitement while Kanata walked quietly next to his twin sister. He followed her closely, not wanting his sister and best friend to get too far. It often seemed as if he was more comfortable around her, less anxious, and Amayeli was always happy to have him along for the ride.

"Calm down, Ama," Miwok told her little sister, "we will get to the spirit tree soon enough."

The little girl didn't calm at all, instead she continued to jump around as they walked, practically buzzing with excited energy.

It didn't take long for them to reach the massive tree, and, as soon as they were within sight of it, the older tribes began laying down some ground rules.

"When we go through, you must stay close to us," Miwok  began as the tree came into view. "Not all spirits are good, some are tricksters and others are just plain nasty, like the ones that were bothering that old man a while ago. It is important that you know of them and can defend yourself against them, but you are too young for that right now, so just stay close."

"Yeah, and spirits are stronger in their realm, when they come over here it's like they can only partially make it through, and it's the same with their powers, they come through dulled." Sioux added on to his sister's statements, not noticing the very nervous look that had made its way onto his little brother's face. Kanata moved to hug his sister closer while she patted his arm in return the curious look never straying from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, her sister resumed speaking.

"But, it is unlikely we will run into any nasty spirits. This portal opens into the nicer side of the spirit realm, it is kind of close to where the tricksters like to mess around, but we should be fine." Miwok explained as she elbowed Sioux in the ribs. He seemed to get the message.

"Oh, yeah, yeah! It's not like we'll be in danger or anything!" He said quickly, raising his hands in a pacifying manner. He turned to better face their youngest two siblings, "The whole place is divided in half by The Hall of the Fallen, we won't be going to the side with the nasty spirits and whatnot. The worst we'll see is a neutral trickster, and the most they'll do to visitors like us is hang us up by our clothes on a tree- ack!" Miwok elbowed him again, harder this time.

She sighed and turned to speak to Kanata and Amayeli, "The point is, you'll be fine, we just don't want you to get lost or tricked into something. We won't be going anywhere dangerous today, in fact, I doubt mother will have you go to the other side at all for training or anything. Mostly since we don't know how strong your magic will be." At that, Miwok began walking towards the tree once more.

Kanata was relived that they wouldn't be doing anything dangerous, after all, he didn't even like hunting all that much, or anything involving blood really. It wasn't that he was weak, or scared, far from it actually, he just didn't care for violence all that much... or blood. He lessened his grip on his sister, settling for just holding her hand. 

Amayeli, however, was stuck on her sister's last sentence, and ran over to catch up to her, pulling Kanata with her. "What do you mean, 'training'?" she asked.

Miwok looked over in surprise, she had forgotten she mentioned that, "Oh, um... mother will probably start it with you two soon-- and if not her then some of us older kids will. Uh.. you know how we sometimes go on hunts that you can't join us on?" Miwok asked, as if unsure if she should explain the training before her mother does. 

"Yeah?" Amayeli responded, her brows lowering as she remembered the last time they left like that. She enjoys hunting, the thrill of the chase and the joy of running free through the woods. Not being able to join them was frustrating, she has been alive much longer than a human six-year-old, so why had they treated her like one?

"Well, we don't hunt regular animals on those trips, we hunt monsters, like the ones that attacked that village many moons ago." Miwok began, "That's what the training is for."

"Oh," was all Amayeli could say, before she became lost in her thoughts. She had heard her siblings and the older members of the tribes she had visited talk about monsters. In fact, she had found the topic very interesting and learned all she could about the monsters. Though she hadn't thought about hunting them. It made sense, after all, monsters hurt their populations, but she had thought them to be too dangerous to hunt like regular animals.

"Alright, who wants to go through first?" Her older brother Sioux snapped her out of her thoughts as they reached the base of the tree. 

Immediately, the small girl regained her enthusiasm, "I will! I will!" She shouted as she resumed bouncing up and down like some sort of physics-defying bouncy ball.

"No, no," Miwok said, giving her brother a glare, "One of us must go first to make sure there aren't any trickster spirits around." She turned her full attention to her brother Sioux, lowering her voice slightly, but still speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "Did you forget what mother said? If they come back with so much as a scratch we'll be stuck doing all the washing for who-knows-how-long. They can't heal as quickly as us, remember? If they get hurt they'll be stuck with their injuries for quite a while."

That was right, Amayeli and Kanata couldn't heal as quickly as their siblings because they didn't personify a specific tribe, only a general grouping that they shared with their, much stronger, mother. Amayeli often forgot this, becoming used to seeing her siblings heal rapidly. She didn't get hurt that often, but it was too often for their mother's liking. Native America had witnessed the death of one of her children before and was paranoid about it happening again. She gave them their freedom, of course, but she went ballistic when one of them came back injured.

So, they watched as their older sister went first, climbing up the tree and saying that she would throw a stick through when they could follow. Amayeli's excitement quickly turned to impatience as she continued to bounce in place. The few minutes she waited feeling more like an hour. 

As Amayeli began pacing, she heard a thump behind her. Turning around she saw it was a stick from a white-barked tree with bright, almost neon, green leaves. She gasped in excitement, a bright smile quickly spreading across her face. "Come on! Come on, let's go!" she yelled as she started for the tree. The stick had furthered her enthusiasm even more. She hadn't seen a tree with bark and leaves of such bright colors before, this spirit realm must be a spectacular place!

She grabbed Kanata's hand as she ran back to the base of the tree, rethinking her earlier decision to go first, instead deciding it would be more fun to go through together. Climbing all the way up the tree with twice the speed of a squirrel, she shouted encouragements to her brother. Once he got within grabbing range, she took his wrist and hoisted him up the rest of the way, too impatient to wait for him to do it himself. Sioux laughed heartily at his little siblings' eagerness to see the spirit realm and steadily climbed after them. 

Once they were standing at the edge of the gap in the great tree's trunk, Amayeli encouragingly took her brother's hand once more. Kanata didn't look quite as excited as his sister, but he was a close second, though he was far better at containing it than his sibling. He, too, had a big grin stuck on his face as the two stood there.

"You ready?" Amayeli asked her brother.

"Definitely," Kanata responded.

Together they stepped through the layer of swirling purple suspended in the air and passed through to the other side of the threshold. 

----------

As the nations watched, different expressions painted each of their faces.

Canada couldn't help the tiny, ghost of a smile that had made its way onto his face as he watched memories that had nearly faded in his mind. His expression portraying something between sadness and regretful nostalgia, as he tried to convince himself that this would be over soon. He noticed that Amelia's hard expression had been lessened by the fond memories as well, even if only slightly. Diego's face still held most of the anger and contempt it had acquired earlier, only softened slightly by the image of the smiling, younger version of his big sister. Maria's expression was stuck somewhere in-between those of her brothers. She liked seeing the child version of her sister, the small, smiling version that she wasn't old enough to truly remember, but she couldn't let go of her anger that they were in this situation in the first place. Not only that, but other people were watching, intruding upon their memories and their life, all because of their stupid father, it was just unforgivable.

As for Prussia and Denmark, they had to admit they weren't all that mad about seeing what their best friend had looked like as a child, and would probably tease her about it later. But all that aside, they still couldn't believe that they were in this situation, and didn't even want to think about what would be shown later. They cared deeply for their friend, the three of them were like family, and so they would never forgive England for doing this to her. 

Japan held his face with his hands, covering his mouth completely and his eyes partially. This was wrong and he knew it. Even if their friendship was nowhere near as good as it had been, he couldn't forgive himself for taking part in watching her memories, it felt too invasive. But all he could do was try to convince himself that it was for the best, that if he didn't do this then she would be stuck there. ...It wasn't working very well.

China was only half looking at the rift. His head angled so that it was only in his peripherals. It was as if he couldn't decide whether to look or not, whether to pay attention and gain information or to do his best to respect her privacy.

Russia, however, was staring at the rift intently. Some of this could prove to be useful information in the future. 

England looked at the rift with confusion in his eyes. Monsters? A spirit realm? This was all new. How had they possibly know so much more about magic than him?

France stared at the table in shame, only glancing up occasionally to see his little girl. The little girl that he knew he hadn't spent nearly enough time with.

All of the others had various expressions, some unreadable, like those of the Nordics, and some uncomfortable and undecided, but they all had one thing in common. Curiosity. No one had ever heard of a spirit realm before. On top of that, America wasn't supposed to be one of the nations with magic, so how has she had it all along? 

 

Chapter 8: 8.

There was a purple haze that seemed to cover everything. Though, once it had passed, Amayeli couldn't believe her eyes. They were in a forest, but one unlike anything she had ever seen. The colors were so bright that light seemed to emanate from the plants. As she looked up, she could see that the sky was a deep blue past the thick foliage of the forest.

Kanata excitedly climbed down to join their older sister on the ground. Ameyeli, however, climbed higher, jumping to a neighboring tree with all the adeptness of a woodland squirrel once she reached the end of the branch she was on. She was absolutely enthralled by her surroundings, touching and inspecting everything she could find. The plants were of such unnaturally bright colors that she was having trouble believing that what she was seeing was real. The trees surrounding the grand portal tree had bright berries dotting their neon green foliage that extended from ghostly white branches. She picked one of the berries and turned it over in her hands, it was a brilliant purple and glowed like the backside of a firefly. 

"Don't eat those," Sioux called to her from his perch in the branches of the portal tree. "They're meant for the spirits that live here, they'll only make you sick."

Amayeli turned back to the berry, her interest piqued. She continued inspecting it curiously. When she could find no new properties to observe, she crushed it with her thumb against the white bark of the tree she sat in. Much to her disappointment, as soon as its guts were spread out onto the bark it's glow disappeared, leaving her with only a stain on a tree and a dark purple thumb. 

Her older brother laughed, amused by her enthusiastic curiosity, "Come on, let's go catch up with Miwok and Kanata -- there will be more to see where they're going."

Amayeli giggled as Sioux scooped her up from her perch and gracefully landed on the ground with her on his shoulder. She looked down at him with a delighted expression stuck on her face, "Is all of the spirit realm like this?" The little girl couldn't help but wave her hands around in excitement.

"Nah, not all of it, this is Bright Forest, it's the northern half of the twin forests, one of the three forests on this side of the realm." Sioux happily supplied, his own grin becoming ever more present on his face as he walked after their siblings.

"This side?" Amayeli asked, her curiosity having no end. 

"Yeah, there's two sides that are divided by the Hall of the Fallen. Everyone seems to call them different names. I heard this side be called paradise, nirvana, moksha, elysium, I've even heard a few people call it heaven. Our family just calls it the Bight side -- our people don't really have a word for it." He shifted her on his shoulder, putting his forearm over her legs to hold her more securely as she sat on his shoulder. "People who come to this side when they die tend to group up into regional cities, called districts, and familial neighborhoods. We're heading to a city of people who lived in Miwok's tribe when they were alive. It's pretty cool here, especially once you're old enough to explore on your own. I've met many people from across the oceans and listened to their incredible stories -- that's something you should definitely do when you're older." They were just behind their siblings now, who could now hear what Sioux was saying.

Kanata turned his head slightly to send his brother a questioning gaze. "They spoke the same languages as us?" They couldn't always understand people from their siblings' tribes, so Kanata had a hard time believing that they could talk to people from across the oceans without any problems.

"No, Kanata." Miwok answered for her brother, "But that doesn't really matter, spirits are simply souls, they don't truly have voices, even though we can hear them speak. Even though they usually move their mouths when they speak and we think we hear them, they don't really make any sounds, it's all in our heads. They speak through their minds using the concentrated magic that fills this place, they know what they mean to say, and they convey that meaning to others without truly speaking, so there is no language barrier."

"Wow." Kanata and Amayeli spoke at the same time, immediately trading looks and breaking out in giggles.

"This is so cool," Amayeli said, "I wonder what the other side looks like."

Miwok paused for a second, Sioux almost running into her before she recovered from her surprise and looked back at their little sister. "What?"

Sioux shot his sister an apologetic look, "I sort of told her that there are two sides to the realm."

Miwok's expression softened, but did not regain it's former amusement. "Oh."

Amayeli looked confused, tilting her head to the side slightly. "Is there something wrong with the other side?" She asked.

Her older sister shook her head, "There's nothing wrong with it, no. … It just serves a different purpose than this side does. While this side is a resting place for kind and neutral spirits, the other side, the 'Wicked' side, is a place where evil spirits are punished and left to wander."

The previously cheery atmosphere dampened slightly, the four siblings walking in uncomfortable silence until Sioux spoke up. "Anyways, this place is pretty weird, but in a good way. The Bright side isn't even all bright, it's really dark just south of here in Night forest. Plus there's no day and night cycle, the amount of light there is depends on where you are."

"Don't forget the Hall of the Fallen," Miwok prompted, helping her brother bring the mood back to something like what it was before.

"Oh yeah!" Sioux waved his free hand around as he spoke, excited to be showing his little siblings around a place he enjoyed so much. "It's basically this really big hallway that splits this whole place into halves. It looks really fancy on the inside, nothing like anything I've seen in all of mother's land, and the souls that stay there are almost constantly battling. Some of the fights are pretty impressive, actually. I can't imagine wanting to spend the rest of your existence fighting, but, the souls I've met there seem pretty content, so, good for them I guess."

----------

"Wait, that sounds like Valhalla," Finland said, snapping everyone out of their daze. The world in the vision looked so incredible, they had been stunned silent. But, now that Finland mentioned it, he was right. In fact, when the older boy had been listing off names of the "Bright Side", they had recognized them as names given to the afterlife by various religions.

"It pretty much is," Canada spoke up. Surprisingly, everyone heard him. "Every belief system has to be based off of something, right? Every religion in the world has some truth to it."

"So that's-a actually the afterlife? That's-a real?" Romano gestured to the rift, where the four siblings were still chatting as they walked through the ethereal landscape. A look of disbelief was stuck on his face as he tried to comprehend what they were all seeing. "And you guys have been there?"

The three siblings nodded in confirmation. "Yeah," Maria said, "and before you ask, no we will not take you there, and no you couldn't get there even if you tried-- well, unless you died for good."

"And why is that?" England challenged, honestly the New World siblings were surprised he had stayed quiet for as long as he had. 

"Because you need magic to get through to the other side, which keeps most of you from getting in, and because we have hidden the portals we know of to keep the realm safe. The souls don't need anyone bothering them." Maria fixed him with a glare as she answered.

"But this has showed us that you bother them!" England shouted indignantly, gesturing to the rift with a rough motion of his hand.

"Our family has had close relations with those in the spirit realm for centuries and treated them with respect! Who knows what would happen if any of you went there!" Maria snapped back, having very little of her usual tolerance for her older siblings' father.

England started to yell something in response, but Germany cut him off with an impatient shout, "Alright! Zhat is enough! Zhere isn't even any reason for us to go zhere anyvays. We know vhat it looks like now, zhat should be good enough. Now stay quiet, England."

The Brit huffed, but was obviously outnumbered, if the many glares he was receiving were anything to go by, and begrudgingly stayed quiet. He turned his attention back to the rift, where the four siblings were still chatting. 

"Is-a all of that place-a so pretty?" Feliciano asked, turning to address any of the three siblings sitting to his left. He didn't like it when England yelled at his children, it just felt so wrong to him. He just wanted that damn tension in the air to lighten, even if only a little. 

The Mexicos were still angry, too angry to respond to the kind Italian's question without snapping at him, so they stayed quiet. Canada could see the Italian's intention, so he responded, forcing a half-smile onto his lips. "Well... the rest of the Bright side is beautiful, yeah. Not all of it looks quite like that, though," he gestured to the rift. "There's more than just Bright forest, and each part looks pretty different. But the other side... " Canada hesitated, the forced smile slipping off of his face as he tried to think of how to describe that awful place. "It's, um, darker, and... well, let's just say that it fits it's purpose. Meils goes there sometimes, but I avoid it when I can. Basically, if you can't handle gore you wouldn't like it at all."

"Oh," Feliciano nodded slightly, his positive expression shrunk down to a surprised look, that had taken a turn he hadn't intended.

Prussia nodded to himself, Amelia had told him bits and pieces about places like this. At the time, he hadn't been sure if he should believe her or not, but now there was no way he could deny it. This was incredible, he had never fully believed in an afterlife, the shadows of doubt always present whenever he gave it any thought; yet here it was, in all of its mystical glory.

----------

As the siblings walked, a city began to come into view. It was a beautiful city constructed in a large clearing in the forest. Kutcha homes stretched for as far as Amayeli could see, even from atop her older brother's shoulder. It was quite possibly the largest city she had ever seen, it looked as if every member of  Miwok's tribe that had ever died lived here.

"Wow," was all Amayeli could say as she took in everything she could see.

"Yep," a look of pride spread across Miwok's face as she looked at the village, "This is called the Miwok district."

"They named this place after you?" Kanata asked, just as awestruck as Amayeli.

"No- well, sort of." Miwok responded with a laugh, "They named it after my tribe because this is where most of my people live; though some have moved to the mixed districts, most of them stay here with their families."

Amayeli tapped her bother's arm and squirmed around, eager to be back on the ground. Sioux got the message and lowered her back down. As soon as her feet hit the dirt, she was walking around, trying to see and process everything she possibly could as their small group walked through the district on a well trodden dirt road. 

Kanata began to lag behind, all of the people and buildings overwhelming him. The only place they had been to that was anything like this was Cahokia, their older sister Mississippi's pride and joy: her largest city. Though even Cahokia was dwarfed in comparison to this place. There were buildings much bigger and sturdier than any he had seen Miwok's people build in the living world, and the sheer number of the buildings, big and small, was daunting. 

Seeing her brother's expression, Amayeli could tell what was wrong. She immediately walked back to grab his hand and pulled him along with her. Yes, the place was so big it was kind of scary, but it's not like they were just going to turn around and go home, their mother had given their older siblings instructions on where to take them and she was not to be disobeyed. Amayeli decided it would be less scary for her brother to experience this place hand-in-hand with her instead of by himself at the back of their little group. She firmly pulled him along, pointing things out and talking to him the entire time.

The district was amazing. There were shops where people wove intricate baskets, and people cooking large amounts of odd-looking food around an open flame, even a few people with strange clothes who were wandering around like the four of them were, like visitors. 

Eventually, they came upon a smaller building, one that looked more like what Miwok's people built in the living world. An artisan was busy in front of the building carving designs into clay pots and vases. Amayeli gasped and ran forward to look more closely at the beautiful pottery, pulling her twin brother along with her. 

"You like what you see, yes?" An echo-y voice rang out. The ethereal tones surprised both of the children as they looked to find the source. 

The artisan gave a friendly wave, and Amayeli immediately waved back, beaming up at the woman. "Yes, it's all really pretty," she told the woman.

The kind spirit chuckled, "I'm glad, I've spent over a century practicing." The woman was definitely not from their sister's tribe. She was pale-skinned, and had reddish-blond hair. Her clothes weren't like any Amayeli had seen, either. They looked more like what the wanderers were wearing than what she had ever seen anyone wear in the living world. It didn't quite match the wanderers' clothes either, though; it was as if the two styles had been mixed. 

Miwok and Sioux finally caught up with the two children. Sioux stooped over to rest his hands on his knees, catching his breath dramatically after having to run after the two. Their older sister, however, was not nearly as winded, in fact, she gave them a large grin once she saw who they were with. "Hello, Marcia. I see you've met our youngest siblings."

The woman's face lit up with recognition before becoming teasing, "Ah, yes. You getting slow in your old age, or are they really that hard to keep up with?" Marcia laughed, her mouth no longer moved to match up with her words. She set down the tools she was carving into her pottery with and turned to fully face the four siblings. Marcia was a very pretty woman, or at least Amayeli thought so,  she looked to be in her late twenties, her eyes were a sky blue, and freckles dotted her features. Her clothes were not made from animal hides or a woven material that they recognized, which the twins found strange. The sleeves of her long dress were close to her body and ended just above her wrist, but the material was brightly colored near the neckline and decorated with beads -- much like Miwok's clothes. It was like she was a mix of two cultures, one foreign and one familiar. There was also a fadedness about her, despite her lively presence; Amayeli found that, if she focused long enough, she could see right through the woman.

The five of them talked for a while and the twins found out that Marcia and their sister were good friends. Apparently, Miwok had even given her special permission to live inside this district. When Amayeli asked her where she was from, she said she had lived in the Holy Roman Empire in the living world. Amayeli had never heard of such a place, and turned to her older sister for clarification. Miwok told her that it was a place across the ocean, and she didn't know all that much about it either. Though, upon hearing how curious the little girl was about her home land, Marcia happily answered all of Amayeli's questions about Holy Rome.

----------

Germany was shocked. Deceased Europeans had met the natives of the New World long before they had? It was incredible, especially how they interacted. In the background of the memories, he could see a few people who were dressed like Europeans from early medieval times and before. As they watched, they saw that the people did not fight or fiercely argue when they interacted, which astounded Germany and many other nations -- perhaps death truly did mellow people out. As the siblings talked with the artisan, the nations could see a building behind and across the street from them where a group of Miwok people and Europeans talked and laughed with each other. In a way, some of the nations found they were almost jealous of their dead citizens. They could mingle and laugh with each other in the spirit realm while the nations were stuck in the world of the living, bound and divided by politics. 

Chapter 9: 9.

A new memory faded in, it showed the scenery of a place unfamiliar to most of the nations. It's otherworldly beauty and elegance, however, told them that it was still in the spirit realm.

----------

Maria's face softened slightly at the sight of the great wall that separated the City of Deities from the rest of the spirit realm. This part of it was constructed of marble, with ornate carvings delicately detailed with gold . As the group in the memory looked up so did the visual, revealing the great height at which the wall stood. About four stories up, there were arched gaps in the marble, the openings showing the wall's thickness to be almost as impressive as its height. Maria could remember the times when she and her siblings had climbed all the way up to the arches and stayed there for hours, admiring the view of the impressive city and the beautiful landscape of the Bright side. They had even met a few of the city's inhabitants who liked to sit in the arches as well; it was always fun when that happened because they would usually get to mess around with them in the city. Their family had special permission to go into the city, as they had helped the gods and goddesses with the living world's monster infestation for generations. The gods and goddesses loathed the day the monsters had escaped from their grasps and went to the living world to multiply, as it meant that more of their worshippers would be killed and their powers would wane.

The North American siblings can remember getting into quite a bit of mischief in the city. They hadn't been delinquents... for the most part, but they had quite a lot of fun running around the city and hanging out with the trickster gods -- despite their mother's warnings. They hadn't been purposely trying to disobey their mother, but the trickster gods and goddesses were almost always more fun to hang out with and seemed to enjoy their company more than other inhabitants of the city. Plus, they taught them quite a few things that the siblings wouldn't have learned otherwise, like shapeshifting and shadow riding, though shadow riding was something that only Amelia and Diego had been able to master. 

Maria looked on at the rift as the images of her older siblings began to scale the wall.

----------

Kanata looked nervous as he stared up at the colossal wall. It was nice looking, sure, but were they serious about climbing it? "So, you want us to climb all the way up there?" the blonde boy asked, pointing upwards at the arches.

"Yep," Sioux chirped, "Don't worry, you'll be fine -- we do it all the time!" The older boy didn't seem worried at all as he began to scale the wall, using the carvings as handholds.

Amayeli ran up to the wall excitedly, ignoring all caution once she saw her brother begin to climb. She wanted to climb it too, she had always loved to climb trees and the wall looked like it would be just as fun to scale. As she went from handhold to handhold, she picked up speed, racing her older brother to the top.

Miwok walked up to Kanata, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as their siblings took off. "It's okay to be scared. He'll never admit it, but Sioux was just as afraid to climb to the arches when we first visited this place as you are now. Just take your time climbing, I'll be right behind you the whole time, if you slip I'll catch you."

Kanata gave his sister a grateful smile, and slowly began to ascend the wall, with Miwok right behind him the entire time.

The two racing siblings scaled the wall with superhuman speed, reaching the arches in no time. Sioux, being the older and more experienced of the two, made it up first, and kneeled down on the edge of the marble to watch his baby sister. "Not bad for a kid," he called down to her teasingly, "you only slipped twice, you might be as good as me one day."

She scoffed as she made it up the last several feet, "You mean I'll be better than you," she teased back, "This is the first time I've climbed this and I almost beat you." Amayeli giggled as she hoisted herself up to sit on the ledge with him, leaning over slightly to watch her twin climb up after them.

"Well, I don't know about that," Sioux said, leaning back on his hands as he took in their surroundings. The arches that held the upper sections of marble aloft  looked almost too small to do their job, yet the structure was ancient. There was enough room between the ledge and the arches to walk comfortably to the neighboring archways, and the wall was more than thick enough for the four of them to walk around without fear of falling -- at least ten feet thick. 

"Come on Nat, you're almost there!" Amayeli shouted encouragingly to her brother. Kanata had almost made it to the top now. He climbed much more slowly than they had, taking his time. Amayeli stuck her hand out over the ledge, offering it to her twin who took it gratefully. She hoisted him up the last foot or so, much like she had when they had climbed the portal tree. 

"I think I like trees better," Kanata commented as he scooted further onto the marble. 

"I told you not to look down," Miwok commented as she hoisted herself up onto the ledge as well.

"Hmph," was all Kanata said as he turned away, pouting lightly.

Now that everyone was up in the archway, Amayeli finally looked out at the forest. She was astounded at what she saw. They were above the foliage of Bright forest, and could see all of the neon green treetops, but as she looked past it, she saw a great shadow of sorts that seemed to engulf a section of  the forests, reaching high into the sky like some great curtain of darkness. The darkness made it look like it was nighttime there, though Amayeli could faintly make out many bright lights that shone through the shadow.

"You looking at Night forest?" Sioux inquired from beside her, seeing her awestruck face. He chuckled when she didn't respond, her mouth hanging open in amazement, "Yeah, it's pretty cool. It's always nighttime over there, but there's bright lights in the plants and animals, so you can still see for the most part. You see that over there?" He pointed to the left of Night forest, right next to the much longer wall that extended for as far as the eye could see, it was undoubtedly one of Valhalla's walls, as it stood with a much more rugged grandeur. There was another patch of forest where Sioux was pointing, it seemed grayed out, the trees stuck in shades between those of Bright and Night forest with brilliant lights that stood out like those in Night forest.

Amayeli nodded, noticing her mouth was open and closing it quickly. "That's Raven forest," Sioux told her, "That's where a lot of the trickster spirits like to hang out."

"Wow," was all she could say as she stared out at the beauty of the spirit realm. It wasn't long, though, before she felt someone poking at her arm. She turned around, only to see her twin brother with an expression to match hers from earlier. He pointed to what was on the other side of the wall, awestruck by what he saw. Amayeli turned to see what he was pointing at, and was amazed once more.

On the other side of the wall was a magnificent city. It wasn't like the one in the Miwok district, this one had huge, elegant buildings. There were grand buildings that she recognized from some of her siblings' tribes as places of worship, and many, many others she had never seen before. Present day America knew what those places were now; they were temples and places of worship from the Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Jewish, Islamic, and Babylonian religions, as well as a Catholic church or two on the edges, mixed in with the other various buildings. There were several smaller buildings scattered around as well, with beings walking around on the streets around them who were unlike any Amayeli had ever seen. Some had body parts of animals, others looked like what she imagined tree spirits and water spirits would look like, even a humanoid made completely out of fire walked around on the streets below.

Miwok smiled at her little siblings, "This is the City of Deities, it is where all of the gods, goddesses, and benevolent supernatural beings live. It extends to the other side as well, though that is usually where the gods and goddesses of darker dominions reside, as well as evil creatures."

"Yeah, but we can't go over there today," Sioux said, standing up, "Next stop is Valhalla, then mother wants us back home." 

Amayeli couldn't say she was very disappointed, there had been a lot of people to navigate through in the Miwok district and she didn't think she could handle that many people twice in one day. She may be more outgoing than her twin brother, but she didn't like crowds all that much either if there weren't a lot of new things to keep her attention and distract her from all of the people.

Instead of climbing back down the wall, like the twins would have expected, their older siblings began to walk along the ledge towards the other wall in the distance. The twins followed, passing by archway after archway, making their way to the larger, less elegant wall that looked to divide the realm in half. Valhalla's wall was less daunting than the one outside the city -- despite its noticeably larger size. While the city's wall was thick, solid marble, Valhalla's wall was grey stone with many archways along its length in every other layer starting at the bottom. It's purpose seemed to be more like that of a simple boarder than an imposing barrier meant to keep things out. 

There were so many archways in the wall to Valhalla that Amayeli found that she could easily see what was inside of the hall. It looked pretty plain, she noted with disappointment, though there did look to be a strange substance on the dirt ground in small puddles, and she could see a few people running around inside. One thing she noted as strange was that the wall on the opposite side of Valhalla wasn't the same as the one she was looking through. It was solid stone with what looked to be carvings of warriors and beasts. The young girl could only imagine that the spirits on the other side of that wall were dangerous, so much so that even the warriors of Valhalla didn't want them around.

Once they made their way to the larger, stone wall, the siblings simply stepped from the ledge of the marble wall to an archway in the stone one. The layers of the wall matched up perfectly, so much so that the archway layers were completely flush with one another.

"Come on!," Sioux called out to the twins as he jumped down. Amayeli giggled in amusement as she watched her older brother use his elemental magic to create wind gusts that lowered him safely to the ground four stories beneath them. She wanted to do that too, but didn't even know the first thing about magic yet, so she climbed down after him with Kanata. Miwok rolled her eyes at her brother's antics but, not wanting to be outdone, used her own magic to form large hawk wings on her back and glide down to meet Sioux. Amayeli paused for a moment in her descent to watch her sister, deciding that she would definitely have to start asking around about magic more -- she really wanted to use magic like her siblings could.

Once they were all back down on the ground, Sioux spread his arms out, making a grand gesture to their surroundings. "This, is Valhalla: the hall of the fallen. The people here are pretty hardcore, and it's a mixed bag as far as benevolent and malevolent spirits go, but it's a pretty nice place to train." Sioux announced to his littlest siblings. As Amayeli looked around, she could see a few battles going on around them between warriors wearing odd clothes. She also noticed more puddles of the strange, silver-iridescent substance littering the ground near the battles. 

Kanata seemed to notice them too, as, while his sister examined the substance from afar, he decided to ask their older siblings about it. "Hey, what's that silvery stuff?" He asked, pointing over to the nearest puddle, which was on the outskirts of a battle between four large men wearing Viking clothes.

Sioux and Miwok both turned to see what the little boy was pointing to. "Oh," Sioux said, "That's just ectoplasm, it's like the blood of spirits."

"Spirits bleed?" Amayeli questioned, raising a brow at her older brother. 

"Well, kind of yeah, - at least it is here, they don't usually bleed in the living world, well- if they can make it there, that is, um-" Sioux stumbled over his words until Miwok decided to take over the explanation, cutting him off swiftly.

"What he means is that it's not really blood in the way you're thinking, it's basically liquid energy. When something, like another spirit or pure iron, cuts into a spirit, that spirit leaks energy in the form of ectoplasm. If they run out, then they fade until they can regain their energy and they can't manipulate anything until then." Miwok explained to the twins. 

Sioux looked a little embarrassed, and jabbed a thumb in his sister's direction, "Yeah, what she said."

Amayeli giggled at her older brother, but nodded all the same, having understood her sister's explanation. She turned her head to glance back at the group of men who were fighting before turning back to her older siblings. "So... they just fight until they run out of energy and can't do anything?"

"Pretty much," Sioux replied, crossing his arms over his chest contently. "Most of them have buddies, though, so it's not like they can't talk to anyone while they're regaining energy."

Amayeli turned to her twin with a teasing expression, "When we're older, I'm going to fight you here." She giggled and began poking at Kanata, starting a play fight. Their older siblings simply chuckled in amusement as Kanata began smacking his sister back, further extending the fight.

"Ay!" A yell came from the direction of the four men.

The siblings all turned to see a stray axe hurtling through the air towards their group, on a direct course for Amayeli and Kanata. 

Amayeli, who was the closest twin to the axe, let out a frightened shriek as she brought her arms up to shield her head. Sioux and Miwok leapt into action as soon as they could register what was happening, but they were a second too slow. 

The axe flew at Amayeli, its metal head inches from her own, fleshy one. Right as it was about to impact, however, a great spark of red burst into existence, colliding with the large weapon. It knocked the axe back a few feet, and left everyone in shocked silence as it dissipated just as quickly as it had appeared. 

The oldest two of the group had frozen in place, stuck in the reaching motions they had made for their younger siblings. They were in complete shock, and it took them a few seconds to regain their bearings and straighten back up. 

Amayeli peaked through her hands as she realized she hadn't been hit. Had one of her siblings saved her with that red light? As she looked around, she saw their shocked faces and frozen poses. Kanata was still behind her, his hand gripping her shoulder tightly. She looked over to her left to see the deflected axe laying a few feet from her. Turning her eyes over to the origin of the axe, she saw one of the men half walking, half jogging towards them. Looking over at her siblings, who had finally snapped out of their shocked trance, she tried to speak, only to find that she could barely manage to utter a word. "What... ?" She asked, confusion conquering her face as she lowered her arms back down to her sides.

Before her siblings could answer her, the man made it within earshot of them. "Are ya all okay? We didn' see ya there." 

Miwok was the first to answer the man, "Uh... yes... yes. We are fine... just surprised is all."

The man nodded before retrieving the axe and going back to the group, who all decided to move several paces away before resuming their battle.

The siblings all turned to face each other again. "Um... what was that?" Amayeli asked, having more success than the first time.

"That... That was magic, I didn't think- which one of you was that?" Sioux responded, confusion evident on his face as he moved his pointer finger between the two children.

Miwok stepped in front of her brother to address the twins, "Mother said neither of you could use magic, was this your first time?"

The twins traded looks before nodding.

"Do you know which one of you it was?" She asked patiently.

Amayeli turned to her twin once more, "Did you... ?"

Kanata shook his head, "I don't think so, did you?"

Amayeli shrugged her shoulders, she didn't think she did. She hadn't felt much other than a slight zap, but, that was probably just the light thing touching her, right?

"Alright, come on," Miwok said as she herded her siblings to one of the base archways in the wall. Once they were out of danger of any flyaway weapons, Miwok crouched down in front of the twins. "Hold out your hands, I'm going to draw out some of your magic. Everyone has their own color, we can tell who it was by the color."

The twins did as they were told and held out a hand to their sister. She turned them so their palms were both facing up before she placed her hands underneath them in a similar fashion. Sioux stood in the background with his arms crossed and a concerned expression as Miwok closed her eyes. The twins began to feel a slight buzzing sensation spread throughout their body. They stared in awe as glowing balls of light formed in each of their palms, sparkling with energy. Kanata's was a light blue with a slight greenish tinge, and Amayeli's was that same red that had sparked earlier. It swirled and roiled in her palm, glowing a bloody hue.

Miwok removed her hands from underneath her siblings', opening her eyes once more. "Hmm, well, it looks like your magic sparked, Ama. In hindsight, I can't say I'm surprised, given the circumstances."

Cradling the red ball of magic closer to her chest, Amayeli felt a smile spread across her face. She really could do magic. This was awesome! 

Kanata stared down at his own swirling ball of light in disappointment. Why hadn't his magic done anything? He had wanted to, he had known that the axe would have hit his sister, so why didn't his do anything? Would it ever do anything?

"Well," Sioux said, relaxing into a more at-ease position. "I guess that means you guys will be doing training and stuff sooner than we thought."

Amayeli bounced up and down, extinguishing her light in the process -- not that she payed much mind to that. She quickly turned to put her arms around her twin's neck, hugging him excitedly as the memory faded out.

----------

Spain and France looked at the rift in surprise, they almost hadn't had their redheaded adventurer of a daughter. Spain in particular was surprised that the Vikings had given the siblings any warning at all when they lost their axe. Both colonizers knew that, since neither of the twins represented a specific group of their own people at that time, if America had been hit by the axe that day she likely wouldn't have revived like typical personifications. Their little girl would have been gone long before they had even met her.

Maria and Diego stared at the rift in a similar fashion as their father. They were shocked. Neither of them had any idea that had ever happened, that they had been so close to growing up without their older sister. Diego turned to look at Matthew. He was gazing at the rift, his face unreadable but for the tiny, bittersweet smile ghosting his lips. Canada recalled how uncertain he had been back then, of so many things, but it had worked out. Up until now, until their stupid father had cast that damn spell, things had been going rather well.

Chapter 10: 10.

The next memory faded in to a  new  cacophony of noise s . Amayeli jumped down from a tall tree and into view once more. She looked older, at least seven but possibly closer to eight physically. They were in a regular, deciduous forest now, America guessed it looked like somewhere near the east coast of her lands.

Amayeli took off in a sprint once more, she looked to be chasing someone. A blast of something shot past her shoulder. Looking back, one could see that whatever it was left an icy mark on the tree it struck, freezing the bark around the impact site. The young girl didn't look back; however, as she knew what it was. She just kept pursuing the figure that remained just out of sight.

----------

Spectating nations found themselves intrigued by the chase. Russia in particular was fascinated by her heightened senses. All of the sounds coming through the rift were louder than they had ever been in his experiences; her laser focus on the chase rendering her senses even stronger than before. The footsteps of America's prey pounded on the ground like those of an elephant, every branch they shoved away sounded like tuneless windchimes in a storm. It made him wonder how she could be so loud at times -- one would think she would have deafened herself by now.

Prussia nodded to himself, Amelia had always been a rather frightening opponent. Her natural skill had made her easy to train, but he'd had to work on her excessive zeal. It wasn't always a good idea to let your emotions run wild during a fight. Despite that, though, she had been a great apprentice. As his mind wandered, Prussia found himself wondering how a battle between the two of them would end now, after over fifty years of them not having sparred together.

Diego was just plain confused, why was she chasing someone who had magic? He knew his sister had always loved the thrill of the hunt, but she never hunted humans. She didn't kill them unless she had a good reason. Diego turned to his older brother, murmuring his confusion to the taller blonde, "What is she doing, hermano? Why is she chasing someone?"

In the relative quiet of the large room, Diego's voice carried to the ears of other nations. Germany, France, and Japan being the most curious of them. Japan having only recently uncovered his face, deciding there was no point in avoiding something he was going to hear anyways. The chase did nothing for the three nations' nerves. Their heightened anxieties from the situation made their curiosity peak upon hearing Diego's question, also hoping for an answer.

Matthew turned away from the rift to look at his brother, "It was part of our one-on-one skill training. Don't you remember when we did that with you?" He cocked a brow at his little brother.

"I don't remember any attacks being flung around, we just chased each other around the woods, like a game of tag." Diego could see the parallels between what was shown on the rift and the training he had done with his siblings when they were young, but it was still different. They hadn't gotten very physical when he and Maria had been the ones being trained. At most, someone might get tackled, but that was it-- they had been too young for anything more. What was shown through the rift was a full-on fight in which his older sister was the pursuer.

Matthew shrugged, "You know Meils, she puts her all into things-- always has, always will. Plus, it looks like she's training with Seneca, and she was the same way."

----------

Amayeli jumped into the trees, leaping from branch to branch, hoping to gain an advantage. It didn't do much, as her older sister was still faster than her. She wondered if she should use her magic  —  Seneca had, so why can't she? The small girl tried to focus on her magic -- that busy   buzzing that was always present in the background. She tried to hone in on that sensation, she had been getting better at it, but it was still a struggle at times, and to make things more difficult, now she had to focus on not missing a branch and tumbling out of the tree. Cursing her poor foresight, Amayeli stubbornly tried to summon her magic, calling that staticky buzzing to the forefront of her mind, letting it surround her. With a triumphant smile, she made a swift, upwards motion with her right hand, directing her magic to concentrate on a spot on the ground in Seneca's path. As her red-glowing hand reached its peak, the ground in front of Seneca jerked upwards, tripping the older girl.

The rock that had been pulled to the surface wasn't nearly as big as the small girl had intended, but it had done its job. This delighted Amayeli to no end, and she gave a small whoop of victory. The small victory, however, took her attention away from her footing, and made her miss the branch she was leaping to. She let out another yell, this time in surprise as she narrowly avoided knocking her face on the branch she had intended to step onto.

Tumbling out of the tree, Amayeli somehow managed to right herself and landed roughly on her feet.

----------

Romano stifled a laugh and nudged his brother, "She's-a like a damn cat," he chuckled. Feliciano merely elbowed him lightly as a reprimand of sorts, even he could tell this wasn't a good time for jokes.

----------

As soon as she was on the ground once more, the small girl straightened up, trying to play it off as if she had meant to do that. Her sister didn't notice, though, as it had happened so quickly she was still busy picking herself up off of the ground, rubbing her sore nose. She gave her little sister a light glare. The small personification barely reached her hips in height yet she was still trying to actually fight her. Amayeli was taking this way more seriously than any of her other siblings that Seneca had trained, and she couldn't decide if it was amusing or annoying.

Amayeli flinched and gave her sister a sheepish smile, "Uh... did I hurt you? Was that too much?"

Seneca scoffed and stood up straight once more, "Of course not, it's already healed, look." She gestured to her face, where a bruise was quickly fading around her nose. "Now," Seneca began, this time with a small smirk, "if you want this to be a true fight, we have to go until someone wins. That means you have to do more than move a few stones, got it?"

Amayeli nodded, albeit hesitantly, and moved into a fighting stance that mirrored her sister's. They engaged in hand-to-hand combat, though it wasn't much of a fight. Amayeli wasn't a bad fighter, and managed to hold her ground at first, but her sister was much more experienced, not to mention much bigger, than she was. The fight ended only a few minutes after it started, with Seneca booting her sister into the bushes several feet away.

"Ow," came the child's disappointed, almost monotone, voice from within the leaves and twigs. After a moment, rustling could be heard, and the girl came tumbling out onto the grass, holding a spot on her arm where the bush had cut her.

"You'll get there someday, Ama, but for now I'm a much better fighter than you. Maybe you should pay better attention to the eldest of us when they try to teach you things," Seneca laughed.

Amayeli sat up, scowling at her sister. She was about to stand back up when the bush caught her eye. Looking back to her sister, who wasn't paying much attention to her at the moment, with a mischievous grin, she stuck her hand into the foliage of the wildly overgrown bush behind her. Bringing the static to the front of her mind once more, Amayeli integrated her magic with the plant life around her, making it grow and move according to her will.

She was still rather inexperienced with magic, so the plants' movements were uncoordinated and jerky, but she made due. Her frustration only fueled her magic; her emotions enabling her to do more with her magic than usual. The branches quickly wrapped around Seneca, lifting her up a few feet into the air and holding her there with thick bindings. Amayeli grinned at her sister, eyes glowing a bright red as she used her magic on the plants surrounding her.

Seneca looked almost impressed for a moment, before she rolled her eyes and smirked back. Her breaths began to come out in visible puffs as the air around her cooled rapidly. The branches binding her lost their leaves as frost covered them thickly. Seneca broke out of the branches easily, snapping them with a simple motion of her arms once she had frozen them completely. She landed on the ground with ease, moving her hands to rest victoriously on her hips as she smirked at the little girl. "That's another thing," she said, "you need to master one skill before moving on to another, otherwise, rather than being exceptional in one thing, you'll be sub-par in everything."

Amayeli just let loose a grunt of frustration, her face contorting into a sort of pout. "Who says I can't get really good at everything?" she asked the older girl, a spark of defiance in her eyes.

Her older sister merely scoffed, "That, would take a very long time. You're better off finding one skill you like and sticking to it before moving on. Honestly, you're lucky you even have the option to learn more than one, some of us are only able to command one or two types of elements. Maybe it because you two are the odd ones in the family, who knows." Seneca dismissed the thought with a shrug. Her eyes trailed up to examine the places on the trees where her little sister had caused new branches to form. "You seem good with plants, why don't you master that first?" She suggested, "Or you could start with fire, I heard about that little inferno you caused in the Hall of the Fallen a while ago. It would do you good to learn a little more control over that." With that, Seneca turned and began to walk away as the memory faded to black.

----------

"What did she mean when she said you two were lucky to be able to learn more than one element?" Belarus asked, fixing her gaze on Canada, "I thought elemental magic was one main skill, broken down into subcategories. That if you knew how to manipulate one element you could learn to control them all." She had heard of elemental magic before, but what the older girl in the memory had said contradicted everything she had thought she had known about it.

Canada shifted in his seat, "No, that's not how it works. Being able to control each element is a separate skill. You can't control Earth or Light the same way you can Water or Fire." He glanced at his southern siblings before turning back to Belarus, opting to focus on the bow in her hair rather than meet her piercing gaze. "Usually, people start by controlling one element and getting familiar with that one element before experimenting with others. Sometimes they find out that their magic is only compatible with that one element, other times they are only able to control the elements that flow similarly to their main element, eh. We, uh, can manipulate all elements, one or two of our oldest siblings could too, but it isn't all that common."

Once Canada had finished speaking, he looked down from Belarus' bow to find her listening intently, interested in what he was saying. Norway looked just as captivated by this new knowledge, if not more so. In fact, the whole room had been listening to him, for once, eager to know more about this foreign type of magic. Even those who had not fully believed in magic prior to now had been familiar with England's version of magic. This magic, however, was different, and that made it frightening.

"I don't get it," Diego interrupted from his slouched position in the seat next to Matthew, his scowl still firmly in placed. "Don't any of you 'magic nations' have elemental magic? Shouldn't you know this already?"

Norway shook his head, "Elemental magic is the most uncommon form of magic, which is rare in any form anymore. The fact that your entire family is able to use magic -- elemental magic at that -- is almost unbelievable. As for knowing about it, the last nation that we knew of who had elemental magic was Scandinavia, that's the only reason we knew it even existed. She didn't exactly take notes about her own magic, so we don't know much about it... we thought the ability had died with her."

"So you guys are only able to use external magic then?" Maria questioned. She knew her family had known a lot about magic, but she hadn't expected to know more than the self-proclaimed "magic experts" themselves.

"Not just external magic, love. We can use some runic magic too," England boasted from his seat near the head of the table, on the opposite side from his son. He had finally calmed down from the chaos of the accident and the many surprises that followed.

"Don't sound so proud of yourself, pendejo, you can't even cast a simple spell right. We can use all three just fine." Diego snapped, jabbing a finger at England before using it to gesture to his siblings and himself.

England scoffed indignantly, "I can cast spells just fine-"

"THEN WHY ARE WE SITTING HERE, WATCHING MY SISTER'S MEMORIES!?" Diego slammed his fist on the table glaring at the Brit as if he was the source of the world's problems. If Matthew hadn't grabbed onto his shoulder as soon as he had started yelling, Diego might have just gone back over to knock some kind of decency into him.

"Stop it! Both of you," Maria spoke up, "We can beat on each other later, after we get Amelia back in our dimension. Let's just get this over with first."

Diego huffed, but listened to his sister, turning away from the Brit and back to the rift. England wanted to retort, but held his tongue knowing it wouldn't end well for him.

----------

While the nations had been talking, the settings within the pocket dimension had faded into that of the Hall of the Fallen. Here, a young Amayeli and Kanata were talking as they sparred, trying to get a better handle on their magic. Despite their still young appearances of no more than seven or eight, none of their older siblings were in sight. They were training alone, as they would come to do often.

Kanata was shooting short blasts of ice at a solid section of the wall, trying to get them to freeze larger sections of wall. "Did you hear about Lakota?" He asked his sister.

Amayeli looked up from the flame that she had been playing with in her hands. "You mean how he almost got eaten by a monster? Yeah." She made her flame bigger, watching closely as it grew. "What I don't get is why he didn't use  his  magic or something. I mean, he's the best out of all of us at controlling  air , he could have killed or hurt it pretty easily, but Wyandot and Cayuga had to save him." She shot the fireball at the wall, melting a section of Kanata's ice.

Her brother went quiet, lowering his arms down to his sides. "What's wrong, Kanata?" Amayeli asked, turning her head to look at him as she shot another ball of flames at the wall.

"Do you remember when your magic first sparked?" He asked, looking her in the eye.

"Yeah?" Amayeli stopped practicing, turning to look at her brother, "It's kind of hard to forget about an axe that big."

"Do you remember how I just stood there? How my magic didn't do anything?" His voice had a dark undertone, an air of self deprecation.

"Wh- bu-," she stumbled over her words. He was speaking as if he had done something wrong by not saving her with magic he couldn't even use yet. Her brother was her world, he hadn't done anything wrong, he couldn't have. "You were probably just scared, and for good reason, I mean--"

"So was he," Kanata interrupted. Amayeli furrowed her brows, seeing a flaw in the comparison. "A while after your magic sparked, I talked to mom about it, about why my magic hadn't done anything even though I had wanted it to. She told me that fear is the enemy of magic, that when someone is really scared, it makes their magic really unpredictable and a lot harder to use."

His sister huffed in dry amusement, "Well that's just great, especially since you need your magic the most when you're scared. … It'd be better if our emotions had no effect on our magic." She shot another fireball at the wall, the biggest one yet.

Kanata shrugged, "I don't know, it's kind of useful sometimes... like when you can use your anger to fuel an attack."

"Or, " Amayeli added with a flat tone, "when you get really excited and accidently blow something up." She gave her brother an unamused look and he merely shrugged once more.

 

Chapter 11: 11.

Another memory faded in. This time the siblings were playing in the shores of the Atlantic. They splashed each other as they ran through the salty waters, giggling tirelessly. The two had not aged at all since the last memory, in fact, they looked exactly the same despite the passage of time. The small blonde boy with deerskin pants covering the lower half of his lightly tanned body, and the slightly taller black-haired girl with a simple deerskin dress covering her own, much darker, body. Both with eyes sparkling with joy, one set purple and one turned red from  the excitement.

Red eyes soon turned back to blue as the little girl stopped playing with her brother, her attention caught by something on the horizon. As she calmed down, standing motionless and staring out across the ocean, her brother sensed an opportunity. Noticing that she had stopped paying attention to him, he tackled his sister, pulling them both down into the cold water.

The girl shrieked as the chilly water made contact with her sensitive midsection. She immediately stood back up, splashing her brother in the face in retaliation. He just laughed in response.

"What was that for?" Amayeli asked her brother, crossing her arms in a pout.

"You weren't paying attention," Kanata responded, still giggling as he sat in the ocean, "What were you even looking at anyways?"

Amayeli turned back to the open waters, eyes trained on the horizon, "I saw something on the water, it looked pretty big."

"Really? Where? It might just be a fishing boat," Kanata got up to stand next to his sister, scanning the horizon as well.

"It was right... over... um...," Amayeli narrowed her eyes, trying to find the dark silhouette that had caught her eye before. "Oh!" She exclaimed, "It's right over there, see?"

She pointed to a spot on the horizon, straight out and to their left a little. Kanata moved his head closer to his sister's, trying to follow her finger. It took a few seconds, but he saw it too. The thing on the water was very far away, but despite the distance, the two children could tell it was a large ship, larger than anything they had ever seen.

"That's not a fishing boat," Kanata commented, awed by what he saw.

"I know, " Amayeli replied. The ship was long and had a huge sail, she didn't recognize the style as any of her costal siblings' boats, so the people on the ship must be from somewhere else. But where? Could they be from the  same  lands  as  the people in the spirit realm who wore weird clothes?

----------

"Could this be when we found them?" England wondered out loud.

"... Zat doesn't look like one of our ships, Angleterre, and Amérique looked a lot different when we found zhem, " France commented, his brows furrowed.

Canada shook his head, confusion on his face, "This can't be when you arrived on our lands, Diego and Maria were around then, this is before they were even born."

"Well, jou were there, whose ship is it?" Spain questioned, turning to the siblings for answers.

The Mexico twins turned to their older brother as well, just as confused as the other nations. "Uh," Canada started, furrowing his brows in concentration, "I'm... I'm not sure. I can't remember."

"Well you must remember something, " England pushed, "this is your memory too."

Canada could only shrug, just as lost as everyone else. France held up a hand, "Let's just see what 'appens, zey were very young when zis happened, it's normal to forget things."

Canada nodded along, but he couldn't help but feel something wrong about this. Normally he could at least grasp onto a strand of a memory, especially when he was reminded of it by a story or, in this case, a video, but when he tried to remember that ship there was nothing. There was no fuzzy recollection, no half-memory, just black nothingness. As he looked back to the rift, he could see the same look of utter confusion on his sister's face as she looked towards the horizon at the strange ship.

China shook his head, this is what happens when you don't document your history well.

Japan looked at the ship in hopes of recognizing it, but was unable to place a name with the style. It didn't help that the ship was so far away that he could only make out basic details.

Sweden squinted at the image of the ship as the children in the memory continued to wonder out loud to each other about its origins. As the ship came closer, it came more into focus ever-so-slightly. The design looked familiar, if he could just figure out where he saw it from. It was long, the sail was large, it looked like the bow came up and-- wait.

His eyes went wide, or wider than usual at least, and he placed a hand on Finland's shoulder. Turning his gaze down to Finland's face, he saw his husband looked as if he had seen a ghost as he stared at the rift. He recognized it too, there was no doubt. Sweden looked at each of the other Nordics to see if they saw the resemblance as well. Norway's eyes had went wide, and he was clutching at the arms of his chair. All of the blood had drained from Iceland's face, his expression matching Finland's. Denmark looked surprised yet stony-faced at the same time, in disbelief. Prussia was questioning him quietly, asking what was wrong, but he didn't respond.

The Swede stared down at his lap, this ship must be what he thought it was. Steeling himself, he moved his hand down to take Finland's as he looked back up at the rift.

----------

The children had fallen silent, staring at the horizon, unable to come up with an explanation for the strange ship's presence.

"We should tell mom," Amayeli finally said. Kanata nodded and Amayeli took his hand as they turned back to shore and ran through the trees.

The memory faded, and came back in a different place, though still along the coastline. The two children stared out over a cliff as they watched many men set up camp on their lands. They sat there with their mother, watching and waiting, hidden on top of the cliff.

The men down below looked tiny from their vantage point, like a small colony of ants setting up a new hill.

"They're even paler than you, Kanata," Amayeli commented.

"They are your new people," Native America told them without preamble.

They twins were shocked, had they been drinking water they likely would have choked, "What?!" They exclaimed.

"But- I thought... Our people are already here! We- we represent groups of tribes here!" Amayeli argued, unable to believe that they were supposed to represent a foreign group of people, away from their siblings.

"You did, but that was only temporary," Native America told them, "These are the people you are supposed to represent." Her voice held a hint of bitterness that her face showed all too well. She closed her eyes and sighed, turning to look at her youngest children. "I am not going to force you to stay with them, I just want you to visit: to meet them."

The two children looked at each other uneasily, Native America sighed once more. "It doesn't have to be today, but you should go meet your people sometime in the near future. You may even find that you enjoy their company," she bit out with noticeable distaste.

They sat like that for a few minutes, watching the newcomers, before Native America got up and walked away without a word. Kanata turned his head to watch their mother disappear into the trees, heading back to the village they were staying at. Soon she was out of sight, and he turned back to spy on their new people with his sister. "How many do  you think there are?" Kanata asked quietly.

Amayeli gave an annoyed grunt, "I was trying to count them, but it's hard when they're moving so much. ... I don't know, maybe 70-ish?"

"Hmm," Kanata crossed his arms to rest them on a rock in front of him, setting his head down on them after a while too. 

A few beats of silence passed as they watched the people down below. They all were busy with motion, scurrying back and forth as they set up structures for soon-to-be buildings. It was a stark contrast to the two motionless forms of the children on top of the cliff, who watched them with interest. The children had even noticed two search parties being sent out, but they didn't pay them much mind as they were being sent away from they were hiding. Kanata mused about the purpose of the parties, if they were being sent out to hunt, gather berries, or possibly to find people. They had to realize there were people here, maybe they were looking for one of their siblings, or their mother, maybe even him or his sister.

"Did you hear what Maliseet was talking about a while ago?" Amayeli asked, staring out at the people below with a blank face. 

Kanata shook his head, "Hm mm, what?"

The girl narrowed her eyes slightly, "After we told mom about the ship yesterday, Mal and Mi'kmaq were talking with some of our eldest siblings about it. Apparently some smaller ships like this one have been here before. The people on them met some of our people and Mi'kmaq. They're here for a reason, they must think there are things here that they want." She paused, giggling, her seriousness from before having evaporated, "I heard them call them 'pale faces', hehe, I mean, they're not wrong. I thought you were pale but geeze, they're on a whole other level."

"So mom knew they were coming," Kanata stated. It wasn't really a question, but his sister answered anyways.

"Eh, maybe, you can never know for certain what a stranger will do," the small girl shifted to a more comfortable position amongst the rocks on the edge of the cliff, not seeming to be worried about the height. Her eyes caught on a group of people near most complete out of all the buildings. "Hey," she nudged her brother and pointed to the group, "you think those guys are in charge?"

Kanata leaned over to look, seeing a group of four blonde adults and one blonde boy who looked to be a tween.

----------

"Hold on!" England abruptly broke the silence of those in the room. "Why the bloody hell are you five there?" he yelled, pointing a finger at the Nordics as the room erupted in murmuring and whispers.

The five men were silent, eyes wide and gaze unwavering as they stared at the scene shown through the rift. England shouted a few more questions at them before France intervened. "Mon Dieu, Angleterre, let them process for a moment. Zhey clearly were not expecting this either."

"And why not?" England snapped back, "They were in this memory, they must have met the twins. There's no reason for them to not remember this, so it shouldn't be shocking." He turned back to the Nordics, "Well?"

Norway blinked, glancing down at his hands, which were gripping the arms of his chair tightly. He placed his hands on top of his thighs before looking up to meet England's gaze. "We met them, yes. We even considered them family... but..."

Finland picked up where Norway had left off, his teary eyes looking at Canada instead of England, "We thought you two had died. There was an accident, and we had been certain that A-Amelia had... had died." He paused to collect himself, "A-and then you never came back, so... so we thought that something had happened to you as well," Finland choked out, trying not to cry as Canada looked back at him with a deer in the headlights expression.

Sweden rubbed his husband's back with his free hand while Finland clutched at his other one. Maria and Diego had eyes as wide as dinner plates as they turned to their older brother, Diego finally sitting up from his slouched position. "Hermano?" He asked.

"Uh," Canada's eyes darted between Finland's hopeful expression, England's demanding one, and that damn rift. What was happening? He tried not to allow his breaths to quicken as he looked back at the Nordics, not meeting their eyes. His mouth opened and closed a number of times as he tried to force the words out. "I-I... I don't remember any of this. I don't know what's happening, I just, I-I don't... I don't know." 

England's brow furrowed and Finland's face fell, he looked like he might cry. Canada pressed back into his chair, he didn't want to hurt Finland, but he truly could not remember. When he looked back at his memories from before England and France, but all he could recall was him playing with his sister and practicing magic. He looked around before forcing his gaze down to the table to avoid the many pairs of eyes boring into him. Why was it that people only noticed him when he really didn't want them to?

"So is the spell wrong or is his memory bad?" China spoke up, tired of the confused and emotionally tense silence.

"You did show us zhe twin's land, so you must have gotten zhere first, but you told us you hadn't met zhe personifications, why did you lie about zhat?" France contributed, speaking to the Nordics.

Iceland glared at the French nation, "We had just lost two family members, or at least thought we did, it was painful and we didn't want to share that with any of you," he spat.

Maria half-raised her hand, "But Matthew says he doesn't remember any of that. I don't understand how a person could just forget all of that and then not remember even a little when he sees you guys every other month."

"If it helps," Japan quietly offered, "He could have subconsciousry repressed those memories."

"For almost a millennium?" Diego questioned, "No offense, but that's a bit of a stretch, don't you think? Wouldn't he at least remember bits and pieces by now?"

The room quieted before Norway spoke once more, "Canada?" All three of the North American siblings present looked to Norway, "Could any of your other siblings use magic to manipulate memories?" 

Canada furrowed his brow in surprise, "Wh- they wouldn't have done that!" His voice raised to a yell, which still wasn't very loud. 

"Our sister, Anasazi, blocked the memories of our siblings and us doing magic from the minds of a few humans who would have caused us trouble," Maria supplied with a straight face. Her expression softened and she turned from Norway to Canada, "You know as well as I do that they would have done this if mother had ordered it, nobody disobeyed her, I remember that much."

Canada sighed, his shoulders slumping, "Yeah, I can't say that you're wrong."

"If that is the case," Norway gently prodded, "I may be able to reverse or dissipate the spell to some degree."

Finland's head snapped to Norway upon hearing that, and Canada's eyes went wide once more. Diego only furrowed his brows, "Are you sure you can do something like that? Our siblings had pretty strong magic."

"I can at least try, that is, if you will let me," Norway responded looking from Diego to Canada as he spoke.

The siblings traded looks before Canada looked Norway in the eye and nodded. If they had really been family, he wanted to remember it.

Norway gave them a small smile and beckoned them to join him on the other side of the table as he rummaged through his bag. The three of them walked over, the Mexicos standing on either side of Canada as Norway pulled a small vial of some powdery red substance out of his bag. "This is just to help with the energy connection," he supplied as he took out the cork, plugging the opening with the pad of his first finger. He turned the vial upside-down before righting is just as quickly, staining the pad of his finger red. After repeating this for both of his first three fingers and thumbs, leaving only his pinkies unstained,  he re-corked the vial and set it down on the table. 

By now, everyone was interesting in what was going to happen. Norway instructed Canada to sit as he took a seat on the floor front of him. Many nations got up out of their chairs to see the pair better, the Mexicos sat behind their brother, and Finland sat behind and to the side of Norway, careful not to touch him as the four of them waited on the floor for Norway to proceed. 

Taking a breath, Norway reached forward, taking Matthew by the temples as he made sure all of his dyed fingertips touched his skin. "Now close your eyes," Norway instructed before he closed his own eyes, chanting under his breath.

It took a second, but soon Norway had established a strong connection between their magics. An indigo blue swirled around them in small wisps as he concentrated, focusing on all of the magic that filled the room and the different signatures. He sorted through each of the signatures, looking for one that was not only foreign to him, but extremely old. After a few moments, it caught his attention, the aged signature he had been looking for. As he zeroed in on it, he could almost see it's orange glow in his mind's eye. The magic had definitely been with Canada for a long time, but there was something off about it; while the spell was definitely effective, signaling that the person who had cast it knew what they were doing, it had not been sealed, an amateur mistake. Norway couldn't help but suspect that it might not have been an accident, but rather an act of compassion and hope by their sibling who cast the spell. Without further thought, Norway began using his own magic to dislodge the spell that had been wrapped around the boy's mind for so long. 

The job wasn't a long one, and soon Norway had successfully dispelled the magic, forcing it to leave Canada's body in orange wisps. As the magic floated to the ceiling, dissipating until it was no more than a bad reminder of all of the time together that had been lost, memories flooded back into Canada's mind. His eyes snapped open as he struggled to process the years worth of memories that had been forgotten, blocked by his own sibling's magic. All he could do was sit there as he relived his own memories, though at a much quicker pace than his sister was. Once it was over, he blinked, his gaze moving between his little siblings and then all five of the Nordics, until his eyes landed on Finland, one of the parents he had forgotten.  

The Finnish man looked like he was about to cry, tears welling up in his eyes as he look at the child he had thought to be dead. "Did it work?" Finland asked Canada, his voice barely a whisper, "Do you remember?"

Canada slowly nodded, his own eyes beginning to water as well. Finland couldn't restrain himself any longer, and lunged forward to hug his son. Sweden came forward as well to join in the embrace. After over a thousand years of mourning their beloved children, they were finally reunited, and not in the way they had expected. The three sat there, holding onto each other, overjoyed to be in each other's arms again.

The other Nordics watched the three on the floor, stunned and immeasurably relieved at the same time. Norway stood back up to join Iceland at the table, the both of them happy to let the two parents have a few moments with their child. 

Prussia nudged Denmark, who sat unmoving, staring at the scene unfolding before them. The other nations went back to their seats to give those still on the floor some degree of privacy as tears began to fall. England and France were having a hushed argument in the corner of the room, their muffled voices being the most prominent out of everyone's. Their whispers rendering Prussia's own only audible to him and Denmark. "Hey, you alright?"

"...She was right in front of me the whole time, Gil, they both were. I thought they were dead and they were right there. How the hell did I not notice? I mean, it's obvious now, there were so many signs... similarities in behavior... they were little things, but they were there." Denmark lowered his gaze, frustration prominent in his eyes as guilt simmered in the background.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, man. Meils looks completely different than she did when she was a kid, I didn't even recognize her when this thing started. ... Actually, I'm surprised you guys didn't freak out when we saw mini her, you had to have recognized her then, right?" Prussia put a hand on his friend's shoulder, a questioning look in his eyes.

"It was so long ago, I had to be sure before saying something, that's probably what the others were thinking too. I thought it looked like her, but it's not like we have any pictures to check to be sure." Denmark shifted in his seat, fidgeting with his hands.

"Well, look on the bright side, you can get as many pictures with them as you want now." Prussia leaned back in his chair, casually folding his hands behind his head.

Denmark looked back at the rift, where the scene had changed to some Native American village, Amelia was standing to the side of everything looking dumbfounded. "Yeah," he said, "I hope so."

Over where the family was sitting on the floor, Finland had managed to calm himself down. He was still clinging to Matthew, but Matthew was gripping back almost as insistently while Sweden had his arms wrapped around the both of them. Maria and Diego were sitting a bit farther back now, not sure what to make of the situation yet. 

"So...," Diego started, "we have more family members now? Geeze, holidays are going to be crowded."

Maria punched him lightly in the arm as Finland, Sweden, and Matthew chuckled at the comment. Finland looked up at the twins and offered his hand to them. Maria took it and he pulled her into the hug, reaching back out to Diego afterwards to pull him in as well.

Chapter 12: 12.

America  stared out at the village before her. The scene had changed, but America could still see the group of blondes in the wooded valley below, the image refusing to leave her mind. 

The Nordics.

Were they the people she would see in her dreams? The five faces -- recognizable but not at the same time -- too blurred and warped to make out. Had she really met them as a child? She didn't remember meeting them, though that didn't really mean a lot for a memory of this age. 

In a way, this wasn't entirely groundbreaking information to her; she had known for a long time that there was a gap in her memory from back when she was a child. All this time, she had thought the gap had only swallowed the memories surrounding whatever happened to give her the nasty scar that stained the skin above her right eye. Now she wasn't so sure. What else had happened that she was forgetting? It must have had something to do with the Nordics, if the scenes being shown were her true memories.

She had tried to remember before, after her dreams had given her a peek into the past, but the visions were never clear nor long enough to give her much to work with. A few times, she had even tried to paint the images in her dreams, but they were even less clear on canvas than they were in her mind, and focusing on the pseudo-memories had only ever resulted in headaches.

Fixing her eyes on a dark gray rock that laid near her feet, she decided to try to remember -- one last time. If it gave her another migraine then so be it, she was already in her own personal hell, so it's not like it would matter. She zoned out, staring at that lone rock, focusing her thoughts to go back to when she was a child, before the Mexico twins had been born. Going through memories chronologically, she finally got to the block of time that she could never recall. America focused on that gap, turning all of her attention to it as she tried to remember.

It was discouragingly black in her mind's eye, but she didn't stop, she had to remember. She began to get that familiar pain, that sharp, stabbing feeling in the sides of her head. The pain grew, but America was stubborn; she kept focusing, she was going to remember this time, she had to, she just knew it. She used the image of the Nordics at the bottom of the valley as a starting point, trying to force her memories to branch off from that root image. Her efforts were rewarded by snippets of recognition, a glimpse of the woods, the smell of freshly cut pine, a rush of cold wind. She held onto the flashes, trying to expand them, to use them to remember the rest of what she had lost. Closing her eyes, she put all of her willpower into focusing on those flashes, those snippets of memory.

----------

As America had her eyes closed, the world within the rift flashed white before glitching like a bad TV screen. Trees squirmed, sounds warped, and the ground wriggled, the only thing that remained stable was America herself, unaware of what was happening around her. 

"Vhat zhe hell?" Prussia exclaimed, catching the attention of the rest of the nations. 

The group hug on the floor separated to see what the commotion was about. Finland began to panic as soon as he saw the glitching and turned to Norway, "Lukas, what's happening? Is she alright?" 

Norway furrowed his brows at the rift, "I don't know. I've never seen anything like this before. Belarus, do you have any ideas?"

Belarus shook her head as she studied the rift, just as confused as everyone else. 

"Maybe she's trying to use her magic to get out," Hungary suggested with a shrug.

"That's impossible, magic doesn't work in that dimension. She shouldn't be able to summon any, and even if she could it would be null, so it wouldn't work," England shot down her suggestion immediately.

Then, almost as suddenly as it had started, the glitching stopped. The sounds of birds and people chatting in the distance were back in tune and the scenery was stationary once more.

"This is one-a weird ass spell," Romano huffed.

----------

Once America managed to grasp onto one memory, it was like unwinding a reel of film negatives. She went through one fully-formed memory after the other in her head, keeping her eyes closed for fear of loosing the memories once more. When she opened her eyes again, she couldn't help but grin a little. The memories she had tried so hard and for so long to regain were now hers once more. They were faded and fuzzy in some places still, but that was simply the effect of time on old memories. 

Her grin faded back into a grim line once she realized the impact her lost memories had on her life. She had spent meeting after meeting with the people she now knew to be her family, the family she had before France and England. The only two people who had ever been actual parents to her must have thought she was dead or hiding. All those meetings and her parents had been right across the table with her uncles and cousin. The people in her dreams, that she could never quite remember, they had all been right across the table. Her favorite uncle had been one of her best friends the whole time. He had been right in front of her and she still hadn't been able to place his face. 

All she could think about now was what would happen after she got out of this dreaded hellhole. Would they welcome her and Matthew into their lives again or would they act like this never happened, awkwardly avoiding the subject instead? She sincerely hoped the former would come true, though she wasn't sure if it would. After all, they might think that she had purposely hid this from them. She hadn't, in fact, she would have told them immediately if she had managed to remember sooner -- it would have been awkward, sure, but she would have done it. America had so many good memories with them, she hoped she could be part of their family again. They had only spent ten years together, give or take, but they had been some of the best years of her childhood.

Motion in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned her head to see the younger version of her and some of her siblings gathered around a fire to enjoy a small, early-morning meal. Her older siblings were talking about the new people who had come to their land, trading stories of encounters; some were friendly run-ins but others weren't, though the former seemed to be more common.

Amayeli listened to her older siblings' conversations, glancing at the woods occasionally. She kept looking back to the trees, a poorly restrained form of curiosity pulling at her attention. Looking back at the fire, she tried to ignore it, but one final pull had her shoving the rest of her handful of berries into her mouth and heading into the woods. A glance back showed her that no one had noticed, not even Kanata, her twin, bothered to follow. Good, she can do this without anyone holding her back.

The small girl ran through the thick woods, a specific destination in mind. It didn't take long for her to find the half-constructed settlement of the pale faces. She slowed to a walk, but as she approached the clearing, a group of blondes caught her eye. They were easy to spot, their hair was like a signal torch on each of their heads, bright and easily noticed among the green foliage. The only other person she had ever seen with such light hair was her brother, and he was easy to find too.

The group chatted amongst themselves several meters away on Amayeli's right. If she was remembering correctly, they were the people that she had pointed out as potential leaders of her new people. She decided to follow them as they walked deeper into the woods. They were walking southeast, Amayeli determined, if they kept walking in the same direction, the group would probably miss the village she had come from, instead ending up at the shoreline. 

She took to the trees to watch the group, quietly hopping from one branch to another with practiced ease. The blondes walked in a bunchy line through the trees, they were much slower than she was in the woods. The spiky-haired man at the front of the group used some sort of knife to cut the thicker portion of the underbrush out of their way, talking with another man who was right behind him. A shorter man walked behind the two in the front, holding the hand of a boy who looked no older than 12. Those two looked around quite a bit, as if they were looking for something. Amayeli decided to hang further back, not wanting to catch the eye of one of the blondes.

Amayeli waited until the blondes were several paces in front of her before she began going from branch to branch again, though at a more leisurely pace. She watched the blonde at the back of the group, the tallest one. He looked around almost as much as the two in front of him, searching. 

They spoke in a language she didn't understand in the slightest, all she could understand were their tones. The spiky-haired one was loud and confident, commanding, while the one next to him was irritated, occasionally smacking the first one. Spiky-Hair speaks like he's in charge, but bends to the second one's words, so the second one is most likely the one that's giving the meaningful orders. The third one in line sounds more motherly and caring, speaking more to the boy than the others. Despite the few words he responded with, Amayeli could hear that the boy was soft-spoken and maybe not as confident as he could be. Tall man, the one at the back, she had not heard speak yet; he only grunted occasionally in response to a question from the motherly one. Somehow Amayeli found it almost endearing, reminding her of a big, cuddly bear. She had cuddled with bears before, and considered them one of her favorite animals. His pace was slow, he was big, he was quiet, and his grunts were low; yes, he was definitely reminiscent of a bear. 

Amayeli found that the comparison made her more fond of the large man, despite not knowing him or even what his voice sounded like. Her mother did say that she had to at least make contact with her people, so she might as well say hi to the bear man. 

As Spiky Hair stopped to figure out how to get across a rather deep creek, Amayeli quietly lowered herself back down to the ground. The rest of the blondes waited as Spiky Hair began animatedly talking with his hands, likely discussing their next possible courses of action. Picking up a small rock, Amayeli looked up at Bear-Man. She carefully threw the pebble at Bear-Man's back, aiming for the center while being mindful not to throw it hard enough to hurt -- she didn't want Bear-Man to be mad at her.

The impact of the pebble was enough to get him to turn around. She peeked around the trunk of the tree she had been behind, looking up at him. He saw her almost immediately and blinked, as if trying to make sure he really saw her. Amayeli waved at him with a playful smile on her face, inching farther out from behind the tree. He waved back hesitantly, a slow, jerky wave that told her he wasn't sure what to make of the situation. The little girl giggled, and he reached behind himself to tap the shoulder of the man holding the boy's hand. 

A short conversation took place before the shorter man looked behind him. Bear-man pointed at Amayeli, and the shorter man made eye-contact with her. He, too, stood there like a surprised deer as the little girl smiled at them. After a moment she got bored, she looked up at the tree in front of her, then back at the two blondes. She giggled when she saw their gazes follow hers. Without any hesitation, she climbed up into the tree with all the swift skill of a squirrel. 

That got a reaction. Once she was high up in the tree, she moved along a branch that extended towards the group, stopping once she was directly above them. The short man said something to Spiky Hair and the other man next to him, though she couldn't quite tell if his tone was excited or alarmed. Spiky Hair replied in a similar tone, though his was more obviously excited, while the man next to him only held excitement in his eyes, his tone being more reserved. 

The group looked around, presumably to find her, though they didn't stray too far from the semi-cleared patch that they were in. Bear-man walked over to the base of the tree she was in, looking up the trunk to find her. Amayeli set her sights on Spiky Hair. She picked an under-ripe nut from an offshoot of the branch she was on. It was still green with its casing intact, the hard shell noticeable underneath when she pressed on it with her thumb. The girl looked at Spiky Hair again, wondering to herself if his hair was rigid enough to make the nut bounce off. She closed her left eye as she held the nut in her right hand, aiming it at Spiky Hair's head. Carefully, she tossed it at him as he passed underneath the branch she was laying on.

To the girl's delight, and slight confusion, the nut landed in the man's hair, becoming lost in the forest of blond strands instead of bouncing off. The man stopped in his tracks, looking all around him before finally looking up. She giggled and waved at him from her perch high above him in the trees. He paused before his mouth split into a great grin and he waved back enthusiastically. Spiky-Hair said something she didn't understand, but she wasn't sure it was really directed at her -- despite him not breaking eye contact. Seconds later the others joined him, all of them looking up at her with interest.

The short, motherly man reached a hand up to her in a friendly manner. He said something, but all she could understand was his calming tone. She tilted her head, brows furrowing slightly as she looked between his friendly eyes and offered hand. As she sat up on the branch, mindful to keep her legs out of reach of the men, the man repeated his words, this time more slowly. The kind man's brows furrowed a bit as he waited for a response. Spiky Hair wasn't as patient and said something loudly in her direction, his tone wasn't unkind, but he was too loud for Amayeli's sensitive ears. She grimaced, glancing at Spiky Hair before looking back at the kind man who was still offering his hand.

"I don't know what you are saying," Amayeli told them, but they didn't seem to understand what she said either. Her expression slid into a frown, this was going to be more difficult than she had expected. 

The kind man slowly retracted his hand, speaking to the rest of the group. Amayeli gave up on trying to understand them, each of their tones maintaining the same sound of confusion. She looked around the treetops from her perch as the blondes glanced up at her. If only they would draw pictures of what they meant in the dirt or something, then she might be able to partially understand them. She would do it herself, but she didn't want to leave the safety of the tree just yet, the stories of bad encounters with these people still lingered in the back of her mind.

As she searched the treetops, she spotted something bright. She smirked, there was blonde hair amongst the leaves. Looking down, she checked the number of people below her: five, good. "I'll find you again later," she told the blondes, knowing they wouldn't understand. They let out noises of surprise and confusion as she stood up and ran through the treetops again. 

She leapt from branch to branch towards the head of blonde hair she had spotted through the foliage. Quickly, she came up from behind him, jumping over and enveloping him in a surprise hug before he could react. He let out a yell and flailed before he recognized her, almost making the both of them fall out of the tree in the process. 

Amayeli laughed as she shifted to a more secure position in the Y-shaped split of the tree they were perched in. Kanata smacked her arm, "What was that for!?" He yelled, standing up to better look her in the eye. 

The girl simply shrugged, "I got bored," she said. "What are you even doing out this way?"

"I was looking for you," Kanata replied, crossing his arms. He huffed, as if exhaling his remaining frustrations with her, before cocking a brow, "What were you doing? Your eyes turned red."

She touched her cheekbone briefly as her brother gestured to her eyes, "Oh, I was going to check out the pale faces' village, but I found the group of them going into the woods so I figured I'd just check them out instead." Amayeli moved her hands around as she spoke excitedly to her brother. "I tried to talk to them but they don't speak any language I've ever heard before. It's cool but kind of annoying at the same time."

Kanata held up his hands, as if telling her to slow down, "Woah, woah, woah, you talked to them? Didn't you hear what Beothuk was talking about earlier, about how--"

"Kanata, I don't care. They actually seemed kind of nice-- well, as nice as someone can be when you can't understand each other." Amayeli waved off her brother's concerns.

"You're joking," Kanata deadpanned, giving her a tired look.

"Not really," the girl continued, casually leaning against the tree, "I mean, the spiky-haired one is pretty loud, but that's not always a bad thing. The shorter one almost reminded me of Hopi with how much it looked like he was mothering the boy. Oh! And there's a really tall one that kind of reminds me of a bear!"

----------

A few snickers and chuckles were heard around the room. Sweden raised his eyebrows a bit in surprise, while Canada could only laugh quietly from his new seat with the Nordics. Maria elbowed him lightly from her seat next to him. The three of them had moved their seats from their old spots to be between Finland and Sweden at the smaller man's insistence.

Sweden looked over at Finland, who simply shrugged in response, "It's the price of being the favorite, I suppose."

The taller man shrugged.

"Wait," Canada said, "are you actually surprised?" He looked at Sweden, a questioning glint in his eye. "She used to call you 'bear' all the time, don't you remember?"

Sweden shook his head, his brows furrowed.

"You know how she'd call you 'yona' all the time? It's another word for bear." Canada clarified with a grin.

"Oh," Sweden nodded his head in understanding, an ever-so-slight smile resting on his lips as he remembered the endearing nickname.

----------

"A bear? And that's a good thing?" Kanata questioned his sister, looking at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Well, yeah, I love bears," Amayeli responded simply.

Kanata pinched the bridge of his nose, "What I don't understand is how you can love something and hunt it at the same time."

"Easy, I love my people more-er uh," her confident expression slipped as she cringed at her mistake.

"They're not our people anymore," Kanata corrected, looking rather crestfallen as well.

"Yeah," Amayeli turned away, looking out towards the trees. Her somber expression, however, perked back up upon hearing strange words being yelled in the distance. "Oh!" She reached out excitedly, smacking her brother in the arm, "I can hear them! Can you hear them?" 

Kanata visibly strained to hear the sounds his sister was talking about, but his eyes soon flashed with recognition. "Oh, yeah, I can hear some voices, can't tell what they are saying though."

"Come on, come on! You should come see them too!" With that, Amayeli took off back into the trees, leaving her brother no choice but to follow.

The two moved through the treetops with ease, quickly approaching the scattered group of blondes. "It's like they're looking for something," Kanata commented once the two of them had settled in a tree to watch the group.

"They might be looking for me... I sort of just took off when I saw you," Amayeli replied with a shrug.

Kanata looked like he was about to say something to his sister but he refrained, knowing it was pointless to criticize her. He followed as his sister jumped over to a tree closer to a rather tall man. She waved to the tall man, "Osiyo, Yona!" she said to him (hello, bear in Cherokee).

The man startled slightly, but waved back as he moved closer to their tree. He looked over, noticing Kanata sitting on another branch of the tree. Pointing to Kanata, he spoke to Amayeli in a questioning tone, prompting the others to notice the two children as well. She still wasn't exactly sure of what he said, but she was happy to hear his voice. It was deep and quiet, much like what she had expected. 

She looked between Kanata and Bear-man's pointed finger. "This is my brother, Kanata," Amayeli spoke slowly, pointing to Kanata as well to clarify what she had said.

"Wait, you understood what he said?" Kanata turned to look at his sister with furrowed brows.

"No, I just guessed," came her nonchalant response. 

Amayeli giggled as she watched the men murmured amongst themselves in confusion. She took to running around in the trees with her brother, laughing as the men followed them from the ground. This continued on for several minutes.

----------

"Hey, why did you guys keep following us?" Canada asked, glancing around at the Nordics.

"We had went out into the woods to find you. We couldn't just leave without properly meeting you, now could we?" Finland replied with a nostalgic grin.

"How did you even know about them?" Diego questioned, sitting straighter in his seat.

"Well... we didn't. But, it is tradition to go looking for the personification of your colony when you establish it. In fact, it is considered a bad omen if your colony has no personification," Finland explained. "Actually that's the main reason we kept following you two: we weren't sure if you were personifications or just two native children."

----------

After a while of running around, Amayeli stopped to catch her breath, her brother stopping on a branch on the opposite side of the tree. She watched the men, a big smile on her face, as they began to look around at their surroundings. They began talking to each other once more, but now their tones sounded worried. Amayeli tilted her head, confused, as her smile slowly slid off of her face. "Is it just me, or do they look lost?" She asked her brother, still watching as the men looked around in confusion.

"Yeah, maybe we should leave them alone now," Kanata responded, turning to face the direction of their village.

"But, Kan... I don't think they know which way their village is -- they are new to these woods after all," Amayeli's expression became concerned, the motherly man looked so worried for the boy who held his hand.

"But they can't understand us, we can't just tell them which way to go," Kanata crossed his arms.

"Then, we'll show them," Amayeli scurried over to a tree behind the motherly-man and the boy. There, she began telling them to follow her, mostly just to gain their attention, and making hand gestures. Spiky-Hair looked like he was about to follow her, but the shorter, more serious looking man grabbed his wrist, speaking to him sternly. None of them would follow.

"What, now smarty-pants?" Kanata asked, moving over to the tree next to her. "They must think you're still just playing with them."

The small girl furrowed her brows, going silent as she tried to think of something. After a moment, her face lit up, "Oh!" she said, "remember that thing Navajo taught us?"

"No," Kanata replied, bored, "I was sent to visit Algonquin when you were sent to visit Navajo, remember?"

Her mouth made a little "o" shape, "Ooh, well, she showed me a way to learn a person's language through magic."

"Have you ever done it before?" Kanata moved to join her on her tree.

"Well, no, I already know all of our brothers' and sisters' languages -- there was no one to try it on," Amayeli shrugged sheepishly.

"Good luck with that," Kanata crossed his arms again and leaned against the trunk of the tree.

Amayeli looked back at the men down below them. The man with the boy had moved over to Spiky-Hair, now the other, more serious looking, man was near the tree. He stood off to the left side, looking out into the woods. The girl took a deep breath, and jumped down to the ground.

"Wha- are you crazy?!" Kanata whisper-yelled from up in the tree. "I thought you meant from a distance!"

Amayeli ignored him as she looked up at the man in front of her. He had jumped when her feet had hit the ground with a thump. They studied each other for a moment, trying to predict what the other was going to do. 

The girl beckoned him to come down to her level, as she barely reached his hip in height. He hesitantly obliged, kneeling down to be at eye level with the child, studying her curiously. Slowly, she reached out to press the tip of her pointer finger against the man's forehead, poking him right between his eyebrows. The man looked confused, but didn't move away. She began using her magic as a conduit of sorts for information to flow. That surprised the man, causing him to quickly back away once he saw her eyes turn from an innocent, sky blue, to a blood red.

The sudden disconnection created a spark of magical energy, knocking the girl down with a yelp. She didn't stay down long, though, instead scrambling to her feet as soon as she got her bearings. 

"Woah, Norge, what happened- wait, you got the girl to come down? Awesome!" The loud voice of Spiky-Hair came from the other end of the semi-clearing they were in, only now she could understand him. It was strange, and not entirely as easy as she had hoped; it was as if there was a dictionary in her head telling her the meanings of the words, but she had to piece them together into a sentence structure she recognized on her own. Regardless, she knew what they were saying now, and she counted that as a win.

The others began approaching her as Spiky Hair began helping the man who she assumed was Norge to his feet. She figured this was as good of a time as any to test out their language. "Village," she said, pointing in the direction she had been trying to take them. The foreign syllables felt strange on her tongue and she decided to stick to one word at a time, being too unfamiliar with their sentence structure to try a full sentence. Nonetheless, the looks on their faces told her they understood what she had said.

"...How did she...?" The motherly man looked completely shocked: the girl clearly hadn't known any of their language before, and now she correctly used a word they hadn't even said around her, how was this possible?

"She used magic," Norge answered the man, still staring wide-eyed at the girl, his voice just above a whisper.

"I thought you said the chances of these people having magic was extremely low, 'almost impossible,' right?" Spiky-Hair's voice cut through the quiet once again.

"I did, but she definitely used magic to learn the meanings of words in our languages from my mind," Norge said, looking at the girl with interest as she stared back at the five of them with curiosity-filled eyes.

Languages? As in plural? Amayeli thought to herself. She wasn't entirely surprised, though, she had been wondering why multiple words would pop into her head when she was trying to think of how to translate.

"Is their magic going to be, you know, a problem?" Spiky-Hair looked worried, and not in a way Amayeli particularly liked.

Norge shook his head, "We don't even know if anyone else around here has magic, and so far she's only used hers to communicate. I highly doubt they will use it to attack us."

Amayeli's eyes widened, and she shook her head vigorously, agreeing with Norge's statement.

Spiky-Hair saw this and sighed, holding his hands up to the girl in a pacifying manner, "Okay, okay, my bad." He turned to Norge again, "But why would the first word she says to us be 'village'? Does she want us to take her to her village or something?"

"No," Amayeli interjected before any of them could speculate further, "Yours."

"Aww, she knows we're lost," The motherly man crooned happily. Amayeli nodded, a big smile stuck on her face, making the man's smile grow as well.

"And you actually know the way back?" Spiky-Hair questioned, crossing his arms to further show his skepticism.

The girl nodded again, crossing her arms as well and frowning at him to show her offense to the idea that she didn't.

Spiky-Hair just shrugged and turned to address the man beside him, "Well, it is your expedition, Norge, your call."

The man stepped out of the girls way, gesturing in the direction the girl had pointed to, "Lead the way," he told her.

Amayeli beamed at him before calling to the boy in the tree. He jumped down next to her and they held each other's hand as they ran off into the woods, calling to the men to follow. The children stopped every now and then to let the men catch their breath or pass a particularly tricky obstacle, then ran off again as the memory faded to black. 

 

 

 

Chapter 13: Pictures

This is not a chapter, it's just an extra little bit I wanted to include. Below are the designs I have made for America's past and present looks. My art has improved since I last drew America's design so I figured I might as well post an update on what she looks like. I will say, however, that I am still not very good at drawing children so her past look is not the best.

Present look:

Past (Child) look:    /\

 

 

Chapter 14: 14.

As the next memory faded in, it was clear that it was merely a continuation of the last one, having only skipped about an hour or so of travel time.

The children stopped at the tree line as they reached the edge of the clearing that held the new village. "Hey, what do you know? They did know the right way!" Spiky-Hair exclaimed as he burst out into the clearing.

Amayeli crossed her arms, "Yeah," she said, still irritated in his low confidence in her. Seeing as he didn't pay her much mind, she dropped the look, opting instead to do the spell again so that Kanata could understand them as well. She placed her forefinger between his eyebrows and began transferring information as the others caught up.

By the time the last of the blondes had made it near the clearing, Amayeli had finished with the spell and took her finger off of her brother's head. "You kind of have to unscramble their words when they talk," she told him in a native language. He nodded and they turned to look at the motherly man and the child, who were still catching up.

The two blondes quickened their pace upon seeing their village, the boy letting go of the man's hand to go up ahead. His focus on what was ahead of him, however, caused him to forget about what he was stepping on. An awkwardly shaped rock caused him to lose his balance and tumble to the ground with a yelp. The motherly man was quick to help him up as all attention turned to the young boy. 

Both of the blondes crossed the threshold of trees and into the clearing where the man kneeled to examine the hand that the boy had thrust out to catch himself. There was a gash where his hand had hit a root instead of the dirt. The man brushed some dirt away from the wound as it began to slowly close up. 

This caught Amayeli's attention, and she moved closer to watch as the boy's hand healed up much like she had seen her older siblings' wounds heal. It was much faster than any regular human could naturally heal. She looked at the boy in awe as his cut finished healing.

The motherly man looked up at the others worriedly, and it was clear what he was thinking. "How were they going to deal with two native children who knew they weren't human? If they told other people about this and they believe them, this could cause a major problem." 

Amayeli, however, was oblivious to this and broke out into a beaming smile. "You're like us!" she proclaimed, accidently butchering the sentence structure and using both Icelandic and Swedish words. The men were able to piece together what had she said nonetheless, and were greatly surprised once they figured out what she had meant to say. 

"You're a personification?" The motherly man looked down at her with eyes that were wide and lightly relieved. 

Amayeli vigorously nodded at him with a great smile firmly planted on her face. Kanata moved closer to his sister to stand by her side as she knelt next to the pale-skinned boy. The motherly man traded looks with the others behind the two children. Amayeli followed his gaze and grinned at the other three as well.

Norge looked at the motherly man, the children, the men beside him, and then the children again. "What exactly do you personify?" He asked the children, his expression turned hopeful.

As if on cue, the children both pointed at the village behind them, the pale-faces' village.

Now it was the motherly man's turn to break into a great smile. He reached a hand out to the girl, "We had been beginning to think you didn't exist, we've been looking for you for days now." The girl giggled but did not take his offered hand, instead she began speaking quickly to the boy in their native language.

"I knew they were looking for someone!" 

"We should leave now, Ama."

"What? Why?"

"They just said they were looking for us. When people look for strangers, it's not usually a good thing."

"Says who? Besides, they seem really nice, and it's not like we can't defend ourselves." 

"Ama, I really don't know about this."

"We'll be fine, I won't leave you alone, I promise!"

----------

Canada looked down, those were words she said to him often and it still hit him hard every time. Now, though, instead of making him feel grateful for his siblings, those words only conjured up a terrible guilt. He couldn't help her now, he couldn't be there to help ease the pain of her memories as she had eased his own loneliness and anxieties many a time.

He felt a nudge and looked to his left to meet his brother's gaze. "Hey," he whispered, "everything'll be fine. 'Meils will get out of there, we'll take her home, and then the four of us can plan what we'll do to England when we track him down." Diego spoke with a small smile, his voice low enough that only to two of them could hear. Matthew mustered up a small smile of his own, and the two brothers turned back to the rift. Their eyes were focused on the floating image in front of them but their minds were elsewhere, plotting and planning.

----------

The memory faded back in on a scene in the Viking village. Three children were playing outside in the center of a cluster of 3 buildings made from stone and earth. The two smaller children, were ganging up on the older one. Kanata and Amayeli looked the same as they had in the last memory, only their clothes had changed slightly, a shade off from the last ones and with more colorful decorations on Amayeli's dress. 

"Ha! You'll never beat us, Ice!" Amayeli cried out in Icelandic at the older boy. The three of them held thick sticks in their hands like swords as they faced each other. Kanata and Amayeli took turns lunging at Iceland, their play-swords clashing like the weapons of real warriors.

The children clashed with great smiles on their faces, battling with zeal. Iceland faced the twins, Kanata on his right and Amayeli on his left. He looked much less shy than before, more outgoing and lively now that he was playing with the twins. Confidently, he grinned at Amayeli, "No, but we'll beat you!"

Kanata jumped over to Iceland's side on cue, pointing his branch at his sister with a grin. He couldn't help the grin that made its way to his face upon seeing his sister's reaction.

"Hey!" Amayeli exclaimed. Her mouth opened wide in dramatized shock at her brother's betrayal. She blocked swings from both of the boys as they took turns lunging at her before she lowered her stick and ran away towards the side of one of the smaller buildings.

The boys laughed and Iceland called after her, "You can't beat us, can you?" He teased. They laughed some more before they saw why she was running away.

Amayeli grabbed another stick from their small stockpile of imaginary swords next to the second smaller building. Once she had found a nice thick one, she ran back with both of them in her hands, yelling a war cry as she charged at the two boys. The three children clashed once more with their altered teams, giggling and laughing the whole time. They smacked the sticks against one another, sloppily battling as three blonde men emerged from the distant tree line.

As the children continued their play-battle, one of the men ran over, grabbing a stick of his own. He jumped into the fray, blocking a blow from Kanata as he joined Amayeli's side. "Yeah, Farbror Matt! Let's get them! You guys are going down for sure!" Amayeli exclaimed as Denmark began fighting on her side. She threw down her second sword, holding the first one with both hands as she battled Iceland. The two of them pushed the boys to retreat almost all the way to the large building behind them. (Farbror = Uncle [paternal])

"Alright, you four, that's enough" A voice called from the doorway of the nearby building. All of them immediately ceased their attacks and groaned in disappointment, even Denmark. "Don't give me that," a smaller, blonde man stepped outside with his hands authoritatively placed on his hips. "And you two," he turned to the two boys, "how many times have I told you not to fight with your sister? She's a lady."

"Aw, come on, Fin," Denmark straightened up, casually addressing the man, "She's a warrior too, just look at her!" He put a hand on Amayeli's head, ruffling her hair as she beamed up at Finland, still holding the battered stick in her hands. "Doesn't that look like the face of a warrior to you?"

Finland huffed, but dropped his arms to loosely cross them in front of his chest. "Either way," he looked at the children once more, "Your pappa brought a deer back, I want you three to help me prepare it for dinner."

"Okay, mutsi," all three of the children responded at once as they dropped their sticks and headed over to Finland.

----------

Iceland gazed at the memory with a fond look on his face. He remembered that day quite clearly from his own point of view. That was back when they had been closer, more like a real family. Of course, he was still close with the other Nordics, but it wasn't the same. He rarely called Finland and Sweden mutsi or pappa anymore, it just didn't feel quite right. Things had changed when the twins had become part of their makeshift family, but they changed even more when they disappeared.

It was all Finland could do to keep from crying again. His babies had been so happy back then. Even though they weren't biologically his children he cared for them as if they were, and he knew Sweden did too. The twins had lived with them for about ten years and had become an irreplaceable part of their family in that short time. Yes, they had left occasionally to visit their biological mother and siblings, but they were still his babies. Nothing had been the same after they had died -- or at least they had thought they died. Iceland had become more withdrawn, Sweden was even quieter, and Denmark became more aggressive for a time. If only they could just get out of here and talk this through, make up for lost time, as a family.

Sweden looked over at his husband, sadly watching the smaller man sink deeper into his thoughts. He turned his gaze back to the floating rift as the memory changed once more. His gaze was drawn to the motionless figure of his long-lost daughter. She was turned away from the rift, her arms crossed tightly and her wavy autumn-colored hair hiding her head, shoulders, and back behind a thick curtain. A part of Sweden wondered if she could sense the rift and the eyes peering in through it. He wished he could see her face, the expression hidden by hair; he wanted to see if there was any recognition in her eyes, if she truly remembered these events and if she held any fondness for them.

----------

Another memory faded in from the black. Amayeli ran through the center of the small cluster of buildings and over to a stump near the tree line. A tall, blonde man sat on the stump with a piece of wood in his hands. He stared at the lump of wood with a great focus as he shaved off pieces with the small knife in his other hand.

As the girl came closer, the man heard her giggling and stopped to look at her as she ran to him. She gave a cheerful greeting as she crashed into him, hugging his arm, "Osiyo, Yona!"

Sweden chuckled, passing the lump of wood to his other hand so he could wrap an arm around his little girl. "Good morning, Ama," he kissed her forehead and lifted her up to sit on his leg. The sun had barely risen, its golden rays were still struggling to peek over the trees. Amayeli leaned against him, resting her head against his collarbone, still a little tired in the early hour. "Little early to be out, isn't it?" Sweden asked as he shifted to continue whittling the lump of wood as she sat in her lap. 

"You're out here," she justified, watching his movements with interest. "What are you doing?" She asked as he continued to shave pieces of wood away. 

"Making a figure," Sweden responded simply, cutting off a bigger chunk of the lump.

"What kind?" Amayeli looked up at her father-figure's face, curiosity painting her young features.

Sweden shrugged, "Don't know yet. I just cut pieces off until it starts to look like something, then I round it off and add details." He continued to cut off pieces of the wood.

Amayeli hummed in acknowledgement and continued to watch his hands as they worked on the small lump of wood. After a moment, she tilted her head and squinted at the lump. "It kind of looks like a beaver."

The quiet man stopped whittling to examine the wood, holding out on his palm. Amayeli pointed at a small protrusion, "See? That's the tail, and it's sitting up on its back legs."

Sweden flipped the lump over, tilting it slightly before he saw it. "Oh," he said, "you're right." He began working on the lump once more, flattening out what would be the bottom. 

A few moments passed before Amayeli reached out to the lump, "Can I?" She asked, tilting her head up to look Sweden in the face. He met her gaze and paused, thinking, before nodding and handing her the lump and then the knife. She took the knife with care, she knew it was very sharp, he didn't have to tell her that. Carefully, she adjusted the knife in her hand to hold it the same way she had seen Sweden hold it before she began chipping pieces of wood off of the small lump.

"Not quite," Sweden said, shaking his head, he adjusted her grip on the knife slightly, taking her hand in his as he guided her movements, "Like this."

Soon, she was shaping the figure on her own, cutting a rounded head out of the awkward lump. Then came the ears, then the arms, she continued whittling away at the wood with Sweden giving her the occasional tip. Eventually, it came to more closely resemble a beaver. Amayeli smiled proudly as she perfected the beaver, adding details where she deemed necessary.

----------

Berwald gave a small, bittersweet smile; he had kept that little beaver figure for a long time. Unfortunately, Matthias broke it many years ago. He hadn't meant to, of course, he'd accidently bumped the shelf it had sat on, causing the figure to tumble to the hard floor below. Since the wood was as aged as it was, it had split into three pieces upon impact. The splintering of the wood had made it impossible to fix. He had screamed at Matthias that day, he had screamed so loud and so long that he had scared Tino... and Emil, hell, he had scared all of them.

The figure had been the last tangible thing that was left of her, of both of them. When the figure broke so did something inside of him and it had refused to go quietly. He had loved-he loves those children dearly, they are his children and loosing them had taken a great toll on him, on all of them.

Matthew looked over at Sweden, he remembers him and his sister being especially close, like he had been with Finland. He debated giving the older man a half-hug, it was the course of action that felt right in his mind, but he knew would be too awkward in reality. They had been close a millennium ago, but that was then, things were different now, they were different now. After several moments of debating, Matthew lightly nudged Sweden's arm. The older man looked over at him, surprise lightly influencing his features as he met Matthew's eye.

"She still carves, you know? Last time I was at her place, there was a beaver figurine sitting on the entertainment center -- it looked almost exactly like that one too." Matthew told him, his voice so low that he wasn't entirely sure if Sweden actually heard him. Judging by his shift in expression, though, he must have. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he looked over to the image of Amelia before looking Matthew in the eye once more and giving him a small smile.

----------

A voice called out in the distance, "Come back inside, you two!"

The two sitting on the stump looked over to the doorway of the largest building in the small cluster. Finland was standing in the doorway, waving for them to join him inside.

Sweden straightened up, ruffling Amayeli's hair, "We'd better not make your mutsi mad." He told her as he stood up, lifting her up with him. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped as he brought her up to hold her snugly against his chest. Amayeli handed him the knife, and inspected her handiwork as she was carried towards the larger building. "We'll finish that later," Sweden murmured to her as he ducked through the doorway.

"I've been looking for you almost all morning," Finland pointed a finger at the girl in Sweden's arms, a mildly annoyed expression on his face. 

"Sorry, mutsi," Amayeli apologized as Sweden set her down, "I just wanted to see what pappa was doing. Look at what I helped him make!" She proudly held the small wooden beaver up for Finland to see, a smile still stuck on her face.

Finland couldn't help but give in to a small smile as well, dropping his crossed arms with a resigned sigh. "It looks very nice, Ama. Now come here, your hair's a mess," He sat down on a chair and grabbed a comb as he beckoned Amayeli to sit on his lap. The girl did as she was told, putting her beaver on the table as her mutsi lifted her up to sit on his lap.

As Finland dragged the comb through her tangled mass of dark curls, Amayeli looked around the room, eager to see what had happened in her absence. At the end of the room, she could see Iceland and her brother listening to her farbror Denmark animatedly telling them a story of one of his adventures. Her other farbror, Norway, stood on the side, correcting some of Denmark's exaggerated details with a mixture of amusement and irritation. Sweden glanced over at the storytelling as well while munching on the piece of bread he had swiped from the dagmal plate.

Amayeli noticed the pulling of the comb at her hair begin to slow. She furrowed her brows slightly, her mutsi couldn't be done already, he had only just gotten to the back of her head. Her brows furrowed further when she felt hands digging through her hair. Was there a bug in her hair? She didn't think there was.

"Berwald, come here," Finland's voice called out to the Swede next to them. He sounded... worried? No, that wasn't right... concerned, maybe? Mostly, though, he just sounded confused.

She saw her pappa's face scrunch up in concern at her mutsi's tone before he got up and walked over to be by his side. He gave a low hum as she felt him hold a piece of her hair that her mutsi had been holding.

"What's wrong?" She finally asked, tilting her head slightly in an attempt to look at one of the adults behind her. 

The two looked at each other before Sweden moved the piece of hair to be within the little girl's field of view. She wordlessly took the piece of hair into her own hand to inspect it. "It wasn't like that the last time," Finland murmured, not so much to either of them as it was to himself. 

Amayeli turned the strand over in her hands. The once raven black curl was now a fiery red. Her brows furrowed further in confusion, what could make her hair change color to such a degree?

"It looks kind of pretty," Amayeli looked up to see Iceland looking at the hair as well. All four of the others were now gathered around them, having noticed their peculiar behavior.

"Yes, Iceland, it does," Finland responded, "I suppose it doesn't really matter how it got there." With that, he resumed combing her hair, albeit a bit harder than before, as the others grabbed some bread and fruit from the dagmal plate. The morning continued on as normal, her brother handing her a pawpaw as he bit in to one himself, the memory fading into blackness all the while.

 

Chapter 15: 15.

"I don't-a get it," Romano spoke up as the scene began to change once more, "what could have made her hair-a change like that? I mean, if she had-a started out as a blonde or brunette it might-a make a little sense, but going from black hair to red? How does that-a even happen?"

"Exactly, it makes no sense! Was it, er, 'magic'?" Spain asked, rolling his eyes on the word magic, but unable to come up with anything else.

Other nations began to voice their confusion as well, directing their questions at the three New World siblings. Maria rolled her eyes with an annoyed huff and looked over to see if her brothers were going to say anything. Canada shrunk slightly under the attention of so many nations, his social battery clearly drained, while Diego looked like the only words he would be saying were curses. Great, it was her turn to deal with the idiots once again. "Look," she said, speaking over the nations to get them to quiet down, "we aren't 100% sure why her hair changed. Our running theory, though, is that the arrival of white settlers, and going from representing our natives to representing the settlers caused the change. We think that her body changed in order to better resemble her new people. Mattie changed a bit too, but his changes were small because he already looked similar to the settlers." 

The nations looked at her, listening, before murmuring amongst themselves once more. Maria rubbed her face in irritation, "Regardless, it's just hair, it doesn't matter." She raised her voice to talk over the murmurs for the second time.

"Agreed," Finland spoke up from beside her, "there should be no reason for anyone to discuss it further." His voice gained a dangerous edge as he glared at the chatty nations. 

Maria looked over at the man, a corner of her mouth tugging upwards. He was definitely an upgrade from England and France. She never would have thought that she would actually like her older siblings' parents, not after everything with Arthur and Francis, but these guys weren't so bad. 

A metallic clang brought everyone's attention back to the rift.

----------

Sweden and Denmark gathered their weapons, giving each of them a once over. Denmark grabbed his axe and a medium sized knife as Sweden grabbed a bow and arrows as well as a larger knife. The two were going on a hunt, something Amayeli hadn't had done in quite a while.

The small girl went up to them, barely reaching their mid thighs in height, and tugged on her farbror Matt's tunic. He looked down and gave her a smile, "Hey, Ama, what's up?"

"Can I go on the hunt with you?" She asked him with cautious hope in her eyes, her new family seemed to think she was more limited and fragile than her native family did. It was something that annoyed her at times, but she had learned to deal with it. She had been rather bored lately, hopefully they would let her join them on their hunt.

Denmark looked over at Sweden, silently asking permission, and smiled as the taller man nodded. Looking back down at Amayeli, he opened his mouth to say yes, but was immediately cut off.

"Absolutely not!" Finland exclaimed from the other side of the room. He marched over to the three of them, a stern expression fixed on his face, "How many times do I have to tell you? She is a little girl, I won't stand for her getting hurt like that!" 

Amayeli was surprised, Mutsi didn't think she was able to hunt. "But Mutsi-" she began, only to be cut off by Finland. 

"No," he said sternly, "young ladies shouldn't be doing such things, especially not at your age."

"Aw, come on Finn, she's a lot stronger than she looks," Denmark tried to defend her.

"No, she is a little girl!" Finland said.

"What does that have to do with this?" Denmark asked, earning a nod of agreement from Sweden. Amayeli gave an exaggerated nod as well, not understanding why her gender made any difference. She was still strong, so why did her being a girl mean she couldn't hunt?

The argument continued, and Amayeli slipped away. She moved to stand near the doorway as she watched her farbror Norway get involved as well. Her Viking family members seemed to agree that she should be able to at least try to hunt, but Mutsi wasn't having any of it. As the fighting continued, a determined look made its home on Amayeli's face and she snuck outside. 

Immediately, Kanata noticed and left the spot where he had been playing with Iceland to follow her. He quickly made it outside and grabbed his sister's arm before she made it past the large building. "What are you doing?" he asked, his brows knit together in worry.

Amayeli shrugged his arm off and stood tall as she turned to face her little brother. "Mutsi doesn't think I can hunt, so I'm going to bring him a bear," she announced with a familiar stubbornness. It was the same thing she had done when the chief of one of her siblings' tribes had doubted her capability. The little stunt had worked then, it had to work now.

Kanata sighed, "Fine, do you want me to cover for you?" His face took on a resigned look, he was already used to his sister's antics and knew it was best just to go along with it.

"Yes, please!" she said, forgetting her hardened expression as she gave her brother a peck on the temple and ran into the woods, waving at him with a smile before disappearing into the trees.

The little girl ran around in the treetops, searching for a bear. Every now and then, she began doing something that greatly confused the spectating nations. She would stop briefly to smell the air before continuing on in a new direction.

----------

"What does she think she is, a little animal?" A sing-song-y voice rang out with condescending amusement. Several glares turned to focus on Russia, the source of the comment.

"It's called using your senses, jackass," Diego retorted, a sharp edge to his raised voice. "Heightened senses are normal in our family, and there's no sense in not taking advantage of them." Diego's glared at the tall, Russian man as if he were trying to burn into him with his eyes. The Russian was only amused by this, and returned the glare with his usual grin. He was clearly intrigued by everything that was happening, taking the opportunity to learn more about his rival. It was as if everything were a game to him, and it was really starting to piss Diego off.

"So!" Feliciano spoke up, attempting to lessen the tension hanging in the air like a thick smoke making it hard to breathe. "Do you-a guys have really good-a senses too? Are they-a like America's?" The northern Italian brother gestured to the rift. His southern brother elbowed him and muttered curses, but Feliciano ignored him for now.

Maria put her hand on her brother's shoulder, trying to get him to calm down, there was no use in getting into a fight while their big sister was still trapped. She turned to Feliciano, trying not to glare as she bit her lip trying to think of how to word her answer. With her sister gone, she had to be the one to deal with the nations. It's not that her brothers weren't capable of speaking for  them, but it had been agreed a long time ago amongst the four of them that those two were the last ones they would leave the talking to. Between Matthew's social anxiety and Diego's harsh exterior, they had all agreed that she and Amelia were better suited to handle the diplomatic things. "Yes, we do," Maria finally responded, "but they're not quite the same as our sister's. We each have one or two senses that are especially strong, and it's not the same for all of us."

Feliciano nodded kindly and Maria gave a single nod in return. She and her siblings had tried to determine which of them had the strongest senses a long time ago. They hadn't gotten quite the results they had been hoping for, each of them turned out to have different strength levels of each sense and no one of them were stronger than the others in all five senses. It had been a sibling competition of sorts, so naturally, when they found that none of them were the winner, they ranked themselves by each sense. She had the best sight out of the four of them, Diego had the best sense of smell, Amelia had the best hearing, and Matthew had the keenest sense of taste. In the decades since then they have found that all of their senses are much keener than the average person's, but they still organize themselves based on their rankings.

A musical hum rang through the air, "And which senses are America's strongest?" Russia asked, his tone like poisoned honey as he tilted his head, a pleasant expression plastered onto his face.

Diego gritted his teeth, "None of your fucking business," he spat. For once, Maria didn't do anything to calm him. There was no hand on his shoulder telling him to keep it under control. His siblings were getting fed up with this too. He knew he shouldn't get into a fight with the Russian, but if he kept this up then Diego might just have to go a little further. No one messed with his siblings, even a little, without having to deal with him.

A loud growl brought everyone's attention back to the floating rift. Amayeli had found her bear.

----------

Amayeli had jumped down from her place in the treetops once she had found a bear. She landed on the bear's back, just behind its shoulders and immediately wrapped her arms around its neck. The large brown bear let loose a great roar as the child landed on its back. It reared up onto its hind legs, trying to throw the small girl off. Amayeli, however, was quick and efficient in her attack, squeezing the bear's neck as she twisted. Before the bear could lift its front more than two feet off of the ground, a sickening snap was heard and the bear fell to the ground, its head lolling unnaturally to the side. 

The girl got up without skipping a beat, examining her kill before kneeling down in front of it. She quickly recited a prayer of thanks in her native language before taking one of the bear's front legs and dragging it back in the direction she came from.

----------

"Aiya... ," China muttered, his voice hushed. Paled faces and wide eyes adorned many of the nations at the table as they pulled their gazes away from the rift.

Finland continued to gaze at the rift with a small smile that spoke of pride, "Hmm, much more efficient than I had pictured."

"Yeah," Denmark agreed, "She was always a great hunter." He crossed his arms loosely over his chest and leaned back, a look of fondness on his face. Glancing from the rift to the others at the table, he was met with many faces who still couldn't seem to believe that they just saw a small child snap the neck of a full grown brown bear. Had the situation been different, he might have laughed at them, but he found he couldn't even muster up a chuckle.

A huff of amusement came from across the table. Denmark straightened up, the fondness vanishing from his face as he raised a brow. China groaned and shot the Englishman an irritated look, "Do you have something to say, Opium?"

England shook his head fondly, the sour twist to his lips having faded and his brows having been pulled apart from their meeting place above the bridge of his nose since the last time he had spoken, "It's just... If you lot are surprised by that..." He gave another huff, looking around at those seated at the table before starting again, "I once saw her grab a charging bison by the horns, spin it around, and then fling it at least two kilometers away when she was hardly any bigger than that." He made a spinning motion with his hand as he spoke with a small smirk on his face.

The Italian twins paled along with Lithuania and Latvia, who sank down in their chairs. The female superpower had never been pushed far enough to demonstrate her physical strength at a meeting. Even the nations who had lived with her for a time hadn't seen her preform such a feat. It was a frightening thought to many at the table, especially those who had gotten enjoyment from taunting her repeatedly.

Prussia just shook his head, he liked to think he knew Amelia rather well and wasn't very surprised. His friend had to be strong if she had survived this long. America's siblings looked rather amused as well, their features pinched up but refusing to laugh at reactions England had caused. The short, arrogant blonde was lucky to still be intact.

----------

After a few minutes of dragging the bear behind her with a strangely blank expression, Amayeli made it back to the clearing near the shore. She smiled as she caught sight of her parents and uncles standing outside of the house, near the center of the small cluster of earth and stone buildings. They looked to be arguing still. The girl's face dropped, she might have face-palmed had her right hand not been gripping the leg of the deceased bear.

Finland noticed the small girl walking out of the woods almost immediately and broke away from the group to run towards her. She smiled at him and waved with her free hand, only for his eyes to widen even more and his body to freeze mid-step. He seemed to have just noticed what Amayeli was dragging behind her. The other men had stopped in their tracks as well, standing just behind Finland, gawking at the sight before them.

Amayeli continued to drag the bear forward with her until she stood merely a few feet away from her mutsi. She dropped the bear's leg, letting it land on the ground with a muffled thump. Finland finally snapped out of his trance and spluttered, trying to find the words to say. "Wha- uh- how did you--?" He finally managed to stutter to the small girl smiling up at him.

"I hunted him," she replied simply, as if she had done it a thousand times.

The matter-of-fact tone the little girl had used tipped Denmark out of his stupor as well. He couldn't help but laugh out loud at the whole situation, nearly crumbling to his knees in the process. His loud cackles shook everyone else back to reality. "See?" he gestured to Amayeli once his laughing fit had mostly subsided, looking to Finland as he spoke. "She is definitely able to hunt, and pretty damn well, don't you think?"

Sweden gave Finland an almost smug look as the shorter man turned to face them. The Finn, however, rolled his eyes at his husband's expression before turning back to his daughter. His little girl, his only daughter, looked up at him with a sweet smile on her face, she didn't seem to understand why he was so shocked. "I... I suppose so," He forced out, kneeling down to look the small girl over for injuries. There wasn't any blood on her, no major wounds, no bruises-- though he supposed those would form later if she had any-- the only injury he could find was a scrape on her knee. "And only one scratch on you," he said incredulously, looking at her eyes, reddened from the excitement, with his wide blue ones.

"Yeah," Amayeli nodded, "I tripped on the way back."

Finland's eyes widened even more, something Amayeli hadn't thought possible. He couldn't quite comprehend it, his little girl had killed a bear ten times her size and her only injury was from transporting its corpse back home.

"So... can I hunt with pappa and farbror Matt now?" Amayeli asked hopefully.

Finland couldn't keep a restrained laugh from escaping his throat as he looked at his daughter. That was why she did this? Of course it was, why was he surprised? She had looked almost hurt when he had told her she couldn't go on the hunt with Sweden and Denmark. He hadn't meant to imply that he didn't think she could hunt-- well, he hadn't, but that was only because of her age and small frame, she just had some growing up to do was all-- he just wanted to protect her a little longer from the blood and gore of the world. Much to his disappointment, it seemed to him that she was already acquainted with this side of the world.

The man kneeling before Amayeli shook his head and sighed. Her smile began to slip off of her face as her shoulders drooped. He wasn't going to--

"Alright, just not today, we won't need any more meat for a while longer," Finland said as he straightened up. Amayeli gasped and celebrated her victory by jumping up and down in excitement as her farbror Matt had a similar reaction. Sweden smiled at his husband, and Finland returned the gesture. "Well," Finland proclaimed, "we might as well go skin this for dinner." He grabbed one of the bear's legs to lift it, only to be surprised by its weight; the fuzzy creature wasn't just a bunch of fur, the bear had quite a bit of substance to it. The small man tried again to lift it, but with minor success. Sweden chuckled and walked towards Finland to help, but was cut off by Amayeli as she stopped bouncing around in circles and ran over to her mutsi and the bear.

"I'll help!" She declared, her excitement not having worn off. The small girl didn't even seem to realize that her mutsi was having trouble lifting the great bear. She was so caught up in her excitement that she ran under the part of the bear that her mutsi had lifted up and lifted the bear over her head. Of course, she wasn't quite big enough to lift the bear fully off of the ground, but she didn't seem to care as she began carrying the bear over to where they prepared the animals for eating-- with the bear's hind legs dragging on the ground as she went.

As she lifted the bear, causing Finland to loose his grip, and carried it past the group of blondes, they couldn't help but stare once more. Sweden's eyebrows shot up in surprise, Denmark began laughing again, Finland was frozen to the spot where he stood, and Norway's jaw might as well have been on the ground. 

"Kind of makes you wonder just what that kid can do, huh?" Denmark remarked between giggles after Amayeli had passed him.

"No kidding," Norway responded once he regained the ability to speak.

 

Chapter 16: 16

A new memory faded in to show Amayeli in the woods, this time with Kanata nowhere to be seen. Years had clearly passed; her curly black hair, which had previously only reached her shoulder blades, was now down to her lower back. The girl was quickly making her way through the woods, jumping over roots and fallen trees while hardly making any noise. Before long, she had quietly reached the spot where Sweden and Denmark were crouched, observing the woods from behind some conveniently arranged rocks. She walked up to her uncle, expertly avoiding sticks and crunchy leaves as she moved, and tapped him on the shoulder. The spiky-haired blonde jumped, barely keeping himself from yelling out in surprise.

"Geeze, you're quiet, kid," he spoke in a hushed voice, his hand pressed to his sternum. Sweden smirked at Denmark, giving his daughter an amused wink. Denmark merely ignored his brother, looking around beyond the rocks before turning back to his niece, "Did you find anything 'scout'?" He asked her with a teasing smile. 

Amayeli ignored the name, tired of arguing that she was a hunter not a scout, and nodded her head. "There's a group of deer over that way," she pointed to their right as she whispered. 

"Atta girl," Denmark praised as Sweden ruffled Amayeli's hair, eliciting a few giggles from the girl. The group rose from their spot, and the men gathered their weapons as Amayeli silently led them through the woods. The older two insisted that they needed to get this trip over with before the sun completely set and urged their young ward to move quickly. Sweden did his best to keep the arrows from crashing against each other in his quiver as they moved. Denmark had no such problems, as he only carried his prized battle axe, and was plenty accustomed to its awkward weight by now. Amayeli, unlike the other two, only carried a dagger in a simple hide sheath strapped around her thigh.

They swiftly made their way through the trees, the two men matching their movements to those of the girl's as they silently ran. Soon, Amayeli wordlessly pointed to several overgrown trees and the three of them all ducked behind the trunks for cover. Amayeli and Denmark both peered through the branches, having the same idea. Just past their hiding spot, maybe a few yards away, stood a small herd of deer. Denmark turned to his niece, beaming as he ruffled her hair. 

With no more than a few looks, the group seemed to have agreed upon a plan, and took up places on each side of their hiding spot. Denmark stood behind the far left tree, battle axe ready and gripped in both hands, while Sweden and Amayeli stood in position behind the far right tree. Sweden quietly climbed into the tree for a better view, securing his footing before nocking an arrow. As he aimed, Amayeli unsheathed her dagger, preparing to run. 

Thunk

With the death cry of the center deer, the woods sprang into motion. As the deer fell to the ground, the others bolted in several directions, prompting Denmark and Amayeli to run out after them. Sweden managed to hit another deer that tried to run straight out into the woods. Two more ran to the left of the first deer's corpse. Denmark followed them, attempting to slice into them with his axe. He was only able to hit one, striking it mid-neck and successfully separating its head from its body. 

"Ha!" Denmark celebrated victoriously, pumping his fist into the air as the headless body of the deer fell to the ground. 

"Oof!" 

The two men turned their attention away from their kills to see Amayeli flat on the ground. Sweden began to climb back down to the tree, his face pinched in concern. 

"I'm good! I'm good! I got it!" She yelled to the two as she scrambled up from where she had fallen. Quickly, she raced after the deer, not wanting to be the only one without a kill, and followed it to the right--deeper into the woods. 

Before either of the men could yell out after her, she was long gone. She raced through the woods, gaining on the deer as it ran away from her as quickly as it could. It took several moments, but soon Amayeli had overtaken the deer. She pounced on her prey, sinking her knife into the side of its neck. The deer's legs failed it almost immediately after she had pierced its flesh, sending them both tumbling to the ground. 

Amayeli hit the ground several times, eventually rolling to a stop--her knife having flown out of her hands with the first impact. She rubbed her right shoulder with a small whine, but sat up without issue. The sun had set by now and its last ruby rays were escaping the horizon, however Amayeli could see her kill without issue. As she began to stand to collect her kill, motion in front of her forced her body still. Kneeling there, she was met with the sight of a horrific monster hunched over her handiwork. It was rancid and rotting, an overgrown and emaciated beast. Had it not been for the large deer skull positioned over its head like a mask, and it's nearly transparent skin, it might have looked like an incredibly deformed human. 

----------

"What the bloody hell is that?!" England exclaimed, immediately drawing his arms closer to his chest, as if the creature would jump through the rift. 

A series of gasps were heard as the creature appeared in the memory, the Italian twins and the remaining two Baltics letting loose shrill shouts of fear. 

"O Dieve!"

"Ay mio Dio!

"Germany! What is that?!"

The German brothers were stunned to silence, mouths slightly agape as they stared at the image of the beast.

Finland shot up from his seat on instinct immediately after the beast appeared, unable to say anything as he stared at it.  

The sounds of the creature's ragged breaths and the crunching of leaves beneath its gnarled limbs filled the room. Eyes followed the beast's every move as it dropped to all fours, bending down to inspect the fallen deer. After a few moments, Matthew reached up to gently pull at Finland's arm. The man blinked and looked down at his son, his eyes still wide. Matthew gave him a final tug, pulling him back down into his seat. Finland obliged, slowly sinking down into his chair.

"Matthew, what is that?" Finland whispered, turning to face his son, the horror stuck to his face like glue.

"It's...," Matthew glanced back at the image of the monster shown through the rift. Amelia stood to the side, taking up the appearance of a statue that differed greatly from her normal demeanor, as she glared at the creature. Matthew found that, for once, he had no idea what his twin was thinking.

"It's a wendigo," He finished his sentence, looking back to Finland. A wave of dread washed over him as he spoke the name, for some reason the monster wasn't as frightening when it went unnamed.

Confusion mixed with the alarm already present on Finland's face as he looked back to the rift where the creature loomed over the animal carcass. "Wendigo?"

Recognition flashed across Scotland's face as he snapped his fingers, startling his siblings on either side of him. "Yeah, I think I remember one of you kids telling me about those beasts. They're humans that became greedy cannibals, right? An' they turned into beasts because of it?"

The remaining New World siblings nodded. "Mm-hm," Matthew affirmed, "They eat flesh, they'll take it from just about anything but they love human flesh the most. Their hunger makes them into damn near perfect hunters too."

"And they know how to last the winter," Maria added darkly, making her brothers shudder with recollection. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Romano looked afraid to ask, but the words slipped out regardless.

Maria looked up at him from the spot on the table she had been staring at. "Most of them were driven to cannibalism by starvation, usually because of a particularly harsh winter. Because of this, they make sure to have food for the winter--and they make it last. They typically capture a few people right after the first frost and take them to their den. Then they bind their victims so they can't escape, and snack on them throughout the winter. They don't kill them immediately because they want them to heal so they can eat more of their flesh."

A chill went through the room, a few of the nations looked nauseous. Canada could see the shiver that fought its way through Finland's body. He wanted to do something to help ease his distress, but he wasn't sure how any gesture he did would be received. Yes, Finland was a parent to him, but that was a millennium ago and resuming their old relationship when so much time has passed felt wrong. It would be like he was ignoring all of the pain the Nordics had gone through after loosing them, as well as Amelia's and his own pain. After a long and repetitive debate with himself, Matthew decided that, while things wouldn't be like they were before, he should at least try to form new bonds. With that resolution in mind, and all the courage he could muster, Matthew carefully took Finland's hand into his own. He doubted his cold hand was of much comfort to the smaller man's warmer one, but he held his hand anyways, certain it would be worse to pull away now than it would have been to not hold it in the first place. Matthew couldn't bring himself to look Finland in the face, and instead focused on their joined hands from the corner of his eye, not sure if this had been the right course of action after all. Just as he was rethinking the entire interaction, however, a squeeze back from the warm hand wrapped around his own reassured his spiraling thoughts. A small smile slipped onto his face, but was soon replaced by unease as he turned his attention back to the rift, keeping his and Finland's hands intertwined.

----------

The creature hadn't seemed to notice her as it examined the corpse in front of it. She didn't dare move and alert the beast of her presence, but as she kneeled there she couldn't help but study it. Its mouth beneath the mask dripped with saliva, bringing attention to its yellowed fangs as it began to rip into the deer with sharp, gnarled fingers. What scared Amayeli, however, was when it began devouring the corpse. It greedily ate the flesh, skin and hide specifically, and avoided the now-exposed organs entirely, leaving quite the mess behind. The girl couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her throat as she watched the creature violently bite into the hide of the deer as if it were starving beyond imagination and that corpse was the only food left in the world.

It was as if the world had gone silent. The beast's head snapped to her, a long piece of flesh dangling from its bloody maw as it stared at her. She held her breath, staying absolutely still and hoping that this creature couldn't see as well in the dark as she could. Her hopes were dashed, however, as the creature let out a demonic screech that echoed through the woods and darted towards her. 

As soon as she heard the beast's piercing scream, she turned and darted away. She bolted through the woods at top speed, ducking under half-fallen trees and jumping completely over any rocks in her way. Her breathing quickened to panicked gasps as she ran, she could hear her pappa and farbror Matt yelling in the distance, but she honestly hoped they didn't get close to her and the beast. She knew was the creature was now: a wendigo, a master night hunter that feasts on flesh. Many times, she had heard her siblings talk of these beasts and if she knew anything it was that she had to keep running. Even if she had to run until daybreak, she couldn't let this thing catch up to her. She gave a panicked groan at the thought, she wasn't sure if she could run long enough to loose the wendigo, but she sure had to try.

The thumping of the wendigo's footsteps quickened behind her, and she quickened her own pace in response, nearly tripping in the process. She made the mistake of looking back as she ran, locking eyes with the creature for a brief second, they almost seemed to glow and radiated an animalistic savagery that chilled her to her core. Quickly, she looked away, flinching as the beast let loose another shriek. As her panicked eyes darted around the scenery before her, she quickly noticed the nearing drop, Amayeli remembered that there was a cliff this way that led to a medium-sized creek she had found while searching for deer. The idea to jump off of the cliff and into the water was dismissed as soon as it had entered her mind, she knew she wouldn't make it. Even if she could survive the long drop, the rocks below would make survival impossible. 

Amayeli quickly turned, grabbing onto a nearby tree trunk to swing herself a full ninety-degrees without breaking stride. The creature was unhindered, however, and jumped onto a tree as well, launching itself into the branches above and out of Amayeli's sight. She didn't dare stop running though, as she could still hear the creature's breaths and its movements following her from the trees. Her pappa and farbror Matt's yells were getting closer, they were screaming her name. Amayeli felt a tear leave her eye, stripped of its warmth by the wind rushing against her face as it ran down her cheek. She wasn't sure she could get out of this, and she certainly didn't want to bring her family members down with her. All she wanted was to see Kanata again, to see her mother, her other siblings, her Viking family, any of them. 

Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a loud crash to her right, and a sudden, burning pain in her arm and side as she found herself flying through the air. The wendigo had left the treetops, landing beside her to fiercely smack her to the side. Wind screamed in her ears as she flew to the left, smashing through a tree branch with a shriek as she made her way back to the ground with a harsh thump. The dirt and rocks dug into her skin as she slid across the ground. It wasn't until she felt the solid surface beneath her end, however, that she realized she had slid off of the very cliff she had tried to avoid.

Quickly, her arms shot out as she tried to grab on to something, anything that would save her from falling hundreds of feet. Sharp pebbles burned her hands as she scrambled, the lower half of her body now dangling off of the ledge. Frantic yelps left her throat as she continued to quickly slide off of the ledge, the force of the wendigo's blow threatening to knock her off of the ledge completely. Finally, Amayeli's hands found a rock more securely anchored to the ground. Once her fingers had found the handhold, her other hand had quickly shot over to hold on for dear life. 

She was almost completely over the edge of the cliff by the time she had grabbed onto the rock, her arms being the only parts of her still on the rocky ledge. Her breaths came in quick gasps as she tried to find a foothold. Footsteps approached her, eliciting a whine from the small girl. The footsteps were quiet, too quiet to belong to her pappa or farbror Matt, who she could still hear yelling in the distance. A thought struck her as she craned her neck up to see the monster nearing: how could something so big be so quiet? It terrified her, she could barely hear the creature, and yet it was at least 15 feet tall.

The girl's legs continued to flail against the ledge, she couldn't pull herself up with her arms from this position--she needed a foothold. As she tried to get a grip on the dirt making up the cliff face below her it crumbled, falling away as she desperately tried to push herself up onto the ledge.

----------

Feliciano could barely bring himself to watch, looking through his fingers as the beast slowly continued to approach the ledge. Romano, however, couldn't look away. His widened eyes were stuck staring at the scene before him as a sick, uneasy feeling churned in his stomach. The yells of Sweden and Denmark were getting closer, he hoped they reached her soon. Deep down, though, he knew they wouldn't make it to his friend in time, Romano sensed that the scene they all were staring at was, in fact, a recreation of the very moment the Nordics' family had been split in two. Despite all of that, Romano couldn't help but make an internal remark to himself about how loud Sweden's yells were, he hadn't thought the creepy bastard had pipes like that.

Finland couldn't sit still, shifting in his seat constantly as he squeezed Matthew's hand tighter, a look of horror on his face. His poor baby, he had never imagined she had suffered like this. Berwald and Matthias had told him what had happened, but they hadn't gone very deep into detail, nor had they mentioned that it had been so slow, so agonizingly terrifying for his baby girl. He forced himself to keep watching, to know exactly what his baby's last moments with her family were like.

Sweden's face was stuck, contorted into a grimace has he watched. If he had known that there was even a chance of his little girl surviving that fall, he would have dove after her without hesitation. He mentally kicked himself, he should have gone down immediately after she fell, even if only to retrieve her body, they could've gotten Finland later. He should have brought her back home.

Denmark's face showed no emotion, the only trace of his anxiety being the way he gnawed on his lip. He was thinking almost the exact same things as his brother, they should have reacted differently after she fell. Maybe if he had done something different the twins would have been with them in the centuries since, instead of with England and France.

Iceland couldn't believe his eyes, the other Nordics had only told him that there had been an accident and the twins were gone. He vaguely remembered something about a cliff, but certainly not a flesh-eating monster. The man shook his head in disbelief as he stared at the monster approaching his sister, the others should have told him. He understood why they didn't tell him immediately, he had been a child after all, but why hadn't they told him later? He'd had a right to know.

The New World siblings weren't sure what to think as they watched the scene in shock. None of them had been there to see these events take place, and their sister apparently didn't remember it to tell them. Not even Matthew, who had found her unconscious body when he had went looking for her, had known anything about this. Maria supposed it made sense, though, as she remembered her sister's aversion to wendigos. They always seemed to make her nervous when the four of them hunted the beasts. She looked over to the side to see her sister standing on nothing, floating next to the image of her younger self. Her sister did not look at her past self, nor the wendigo, in fact she looked to be staring at the creek waters crashing against the rocks below. Amelia's face was unobscured now, and she could clearly see her sister's hardened expression. No emotions were being expressed, but if Maria knew her sister there were plenty swirling around beneath the surface. She wondered how long her sister would be able to handle this before she cracked. Amelia was strong, Maria was sure of that, but knowing what was bound to be shown, she didn't think that even she could handle reliving all of it.

The other nations merely stared at the rift in disbelief, it was like they were watching some horror movie. Quite a few of them were still trying to wrap their minds around the existence of monsters--real, gruesome, dangerous monsters that were supposed to exist only in morbid stories.

---------- 

The wendigo stalked closer, lowering itself onto all fours as it leaned down. Amayeli could feel its breath on her face and smell the odor of death and rot it held.  As it drew nearer, the girl could feel the warmth of the early fall air quickly turn freezing. She stilled and squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away from the foul beast. The girl knew she wouldn't be able to get away without falling, but maybe if she was still enough it wouldn't find her in the dark. Amayeli stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, barely catching the yelp that formed in her throat when she felt a drop of liquid fall on her face. It was close, the stench of decay was stronger than ever, and a string of sinew touched her forehead from where it was caught between the creature's teeth. It was gross and slimy, the strong smell of iron entering her nostrils as it was dragged around her forehead and hair. A long inhale broke the silence that had fallen, deep and wet as the creature smelled the air.

Silence fell once more, and there was no more shuffling of the beast, no shouts in the distance, not even the song of a cricket. Then, Amayeli made the mistake of opening her eyes. As soon as she cracked on of her eyes open, both widened in horror. The creature loomed over her, barely two inches from her face. Its deer skull mask no longer covered its face, having been pushed up to rest on its forehead. She could see the wendigo's face in perfect detail, her exceptional night vision turned into a curse. Translucent skin stretched over the creature's skull, a few atrophied muscles filling in the spaces. Its lipless mouth hung open just enough for the frightened girl to have a perfect view of its jagged teeth, yellowed and sticking out of its bloody maw like small knives as it silently breathed. Her gaze trailed up the creatures face, it was an almost involuntary action--as if she had lost control over her own eyes. Frostbite blackened the wendigo's skin in patches scattered across its face and covered the stump that used to be a nose. Amayeli's eyes would move no further once she saw the beast's eyes. They were sunken and beady, but strangest of all, they glowed a sickening yellow. As she stared into the deformed creature's eyes, she made a realization that turned her blood to ice. 

It was staring back.

Mere moments after they had locked eyes, the creature released an unnatural shrieking noise that echoed throughout the woods. Amayeli flinched harshly at the sheer volume of the monster that had been so very silent seconds before, almost loosing her grip on the rock she clung to. She screwed her eyes shut as the beast raised a gnarled claw. The girl waited for the impact, for the creature to tear into her flesh as it had the deer.

"Hey!"

A painfully familiar voice yelled out, distorted by anger and closely followed by a thunk along with yet another enraged scream from the wendigo. Amayeli looked up to find the source of the voice. Standing just beyond the tree line, maybe fifteen feet away, was her pappa. His face was scrunched up in fury and his eyes were wider than she'd ever seen them--so wide she wondered if it hurt. He was holding his bow in front of him, his other arm drawn back though the bowstring wasn't in his hand.

Amayeli quickly looked back at the wendigo, it had stumbled back upon being struck in the chest by his arrow--though if she had to guess it was likely more in surprise than pain. Her pappa had been very quiet, so quiet she hadn't heard him until he had yelled. The girl's terror grew, however, when the beast screamed again, this time at her pappa, droplets of spit and who-knows-what-else spraying in his direction, and she realized that he had made it angry. She had only interested it as a potential meal, but her pappa had pissed it off with that arrow. It was going to attack him, hunt him down if it had to--she had heard of it happening before and it was never pretty. 

America looked on at the scene before her, having forced herself to look away from the waters of the creek below her. Despite having finally recovered many of her lost memories, the memory of the day she lost her Viking family was still absent, save a few hazed half-recollections. She wasn't sure if she really wanted to know exactly what happened, much less relive it, but her curiosity pulled at her nevertheless. Her eyes carefully studied what was happening around her, but she still couldn't bring herself to look at the wendigo for longer than a moment at a time.

The beast lunged at her pappa, eliciting a shriek from the dangling girl. Sweden managed to shoot another arrow, lodging it deep within the monster's sternum. Much to the man's dismay, the creature seemed completely unbothered by the hit and continued to rush at him. The tall, Nordic country quickly began to back up, readying his bow again to aim for the monster's head as it rapidly advanced.

CRACK!

The distinct sound of metal against bone rang through the night air. Amayeli gasped as she caught the sight of her farbror Matt, who had jumped out from the tree line to smack the creature's head with the broad side of his battle axe. His spiky hair was windblown, leaning back with a few leaves sticking out of it as he stood staring at the creature before him. "What the hell is this thing? I thought she ran after a deer!" He yelled as his face took on a look of horror upon realizing what he had just struck was no forest animal.

Another roar was directed at the men, the wendigo was really pissed now. It lunged at Denmark, this time with both of its gnarled hands outstretched, putting its razor-sharp claws on full display. Matthias barely managed to hack at its overgrown forelimbs before it was on top of him, knocking the beast to the side roughly a meter or two.

"This must be one of the evil spirits that Shaman spoke of." Amayeli recognized yet another voice. She stared at the group of blondes with eyes as wide as dinner plates, upon seeing her farbror Lukas behind her farbror Matthias. No, this couldn't be happening, where did he come from? He had been out collecting wood, had Matt and her pappa found him and brought him along? Why? There was no way they could know how to kill a wendigo. Even her farbror Lukas, who had been talking with the local Shaman couldn't possibly know. No one talked about wendigos for fear of summoning them, Lukas wouldn't even know its name, much less how to kill it. 

The small girl began struggling again, trying to pull herself back onto the ledge using the rock she clung to as her only handhold. She could hear her family members clashing with the wendigo near the tree line as she attempted to get her footing once more. 

"Ama? Is that you? Are you all right?" Her farbror Matt called out to her, having heard her struggles from the ledge. She glanced up briefly, allowing him to see her face in the moonlight, letting out a grunt in response. From her place on the side of the cliff, Amayeli could see Matthias swinging at the wendigo as it tried to get a hit in. Her pappa had resorted to whacking it with a tree branch upon seeing the ineffectiveness of his bow and arrows on the beast. Amayeli continued to struggle against the cliff face, turning her head down once more. A bright flash of light, however, caught her attention and pulled her eyes back to the battle. 

Her uncle Lukas had used one of his spells to knock the creature back several feet. His eyes were shining an indigo blue as magic gathered in his eyes and around his hands, just concentrated enough to see glowing dimly in the moonlight. 

That was right! Her farbror had magic too, how could she have forgotten? She couldn't summon her own magic at the moment, her inexperience and panicked emotions having worked against her as she had tried for the past ten minutes at least. However, Lukas could summon magic just fine, it must not work the same way as hers or her siblings'.

"Lukas!" She yelled to him, "Fire! Lukas, fire!" Amayeli tried to be brief, knowing that time was a luxury they didn't have at the moment. She sent her farbror an urgent yet hopeful look as he glanced at her. He seemed to understand what she had meant for him to do, and gave her a quick nod before he turned back to the beast. 

Norway retreated behind his brothers, who continued to fight against the creature, to rummage through the small leather pouches on his belt. Once he had found what he had been searching for, he pushed his way between the two to stand at the very front. Denmark had knocked the creature down, but the thing was still trying to get up--its injuries not seeming to register in whatever scrap of a mind it may have. Lukas quickly threw what looked like a handful of powder at the creature before Sweden and Denmark moved to be in front of their unarmed brother once more. As the two continued to strike the creature, Lukas began to chant in a language long forgotten by the world. 

It started slowly, the places where the powder had landed glowing like hot embers, bringing forth steam and smoke from the creature's skin. The embers soon became flames that grew at an exponential rate until the entire creature was consumed by the flames, stumbling around as it screamed bloody murder. Norway continued to chant with his hands outstretched towards the beast, indigo blue swirling faintly around his palms and tracing his fingers. A determined look made its home on his face as he chanted, stoking the flames ever hotter, as if his goal wasn't just to kill the creature but to incinerate it.

Amayeli continued to struggle against the cliff face as the creature began to stumble towards  the ledge. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get any foothold she made to remain long enough to give her a boost before it crumbled down to the waters below. The rock she held onto began to wiggle, the ground around it loosening from her constant weight pulling on it. She couldn't help but release a whimper as the wendigo stumbled closer, still engulfed in flames.

Sweden was the first of the three to notice the creature getting too close to the ledge, and more importantly to him--too close to Amayeli. He began to run to his daughter, shocking Norway out of concentration. The flames died down, but the beast's flesh was still aflame as it dropped dead, falling right next to where Amayeli was still dangling from the ledge before it began sliding off of the cliff. 

The girl felt one of the creature's claws catch on her dress as its body slid headfirst off of the ledge. Her deerskin dress was pulled by the corpse as it fell, adding dozens of extra pounds of stress on her body as she tried to keep her grip on the rock that tethered her to the ledge. She yelled out for her pappa as he ran towards her, followed closely by her farbröder, as she felt the rock begin to give way. The added weight on the rock was detrimental to its stability, and Amayeli felt her fingers slip as the rock loosened and turned, releasing itself from her grip.

She let out a yelp as she lost her grasp on the ledge and began falling towards the rocky waters below. Her instincts quickly took over, and she began flailing, trying to grab something, anything, that could halt her descent. Almost immediately, her hands found a root system growing down the cliff face. The arced root was rough and cut her hands when she grabbed onto it, but she held on for dear life. The splash that came from below didn't even register in her mind, which was far too busy trying not to follow after it to notice.

Amayeli flailed her legs, letting short shrieks escape her as she fought for a better grip on the thick roots. The small girl's face was contorted in terror as her head quickly swiveled between the ledge above her and the creek below. Water lapped against the rocks that lined the boarder between the cliff face and the creek, the motions were hungry, as if the creek couldn't wait to consume her tiny body in its waves.

Yells from the ground above drew her attention away from what waited for her below. Sweden's face peaked over the ledge looking down at her, his eyes wild with panic. That did nothing to ease the frightened child's nerves. She had never seen her pappa scared before, and the idea that he was scared now increased her own panic tenfold.

"Pappa!" Amayeli yelled, fear hijacking her voice. Her feet couldn't find a solid form to brace against. No matter how hard she kicked she only succeeded in swinging her body back and forth, rubbing her already cut hands on the thick, ragged roots. The evening dew did her no favors either, forcing her to constantly readjust her grip as she hung.

She could see both of her  farbröder now on either side of her pappa. Their expressions were no calmer than her pappa's, eliciting more whimpers from the panicked child. Voices carried down the cliff, rushed discussions of what to do, but she couldn't focus on them--too terrified to pay attention to anything other than finding some other part of the cliff face to hold on to. 

The voices ceased almost as soon as they had started, and the only thing to be heard was a quick word from her pappa, raised above his normal murmur by panic.

"Here!" Sweden held a hand out to Amayeli as he leaned over the cliff edge. His entire upper body was lowered down from the safety of the ledge while hands held on to his waist and legs to keep him from falling as well. 

Amayeli moved her right hand to meet her pappa's outstretched one, but retracted it almost immediately, feeling her other hand loose its grip. Sweden offered her words of encouragement, repeating the phrases "You can do it", "I'm right here", and "I won't let you fall" over and over like some kind of mantra. She tried once more to grab his hand, trying to use the cliff face to steady herself as she reached upwards to him. 

"Down farther!" Sweden commanded his brothers as he stretched his hand out, splaying his fingers in hopes of reaching his daughter's. 

Amayeli's arms felt as if they were being pulled apart as she reached to her pappa, stretching as far up as she could manage. Her shoulder ached and her hands burned, but she couldn't let herself pay that any mind. She tried to use the cliff face to pull herself up, only managing to rain dirt down on her own face.

"Grab my hand!" Sweden yelled again, trying to be gentle but his panic seeping through. 

Amayeli tried again, this time pushing against the cliff face and the roots to boost herself upwards with her arms. She managed to get farther than she had before, brushing her middle finger against her pappa's. 

But what goes up, must come down.

She felt her pappa jolt forward upon making contact, trying to grab her hand. The root, however, would not take the extra force.

Snap!

Her heart froze, becoming a lump of ice that sat in her chest when she heard the sound. She could hear her pappa scream as she began to plummet. The slick root was pulled taut for only a moment as the end she held onto fell, and with that jolt came the burning sensation of the rough root slipping right through her tired hand. 

A blood-curdling shriek tore its way out of the little girl's throat as she plummeted.

Why must time move so slowly when one realizes they are dying? This thought was the first to make its way into Amayeli's mind as it registered to her that she was, indeed, falling. That one calm musing, however, was quickly shoved to the side as a flood of panicked cries and frantic commands rushed to the forefront of her mind.

Amayeli began flailing once more, realizing with rising terror that there was nothing to grab onto. The cliff face arched back, out of reach for her small limbs. Her heart was stuck in her throat, clogging her airways as her breathing sped up exponentially. She thought she heard a cry from above, but she could barely make out anything other than the screaming winds in her ears. 

Flailing did Amayeli no favors, and she began to tumble through the air, doing somersault after twisted somersault. Her hands were stuck out on either side, sparking wildly with her uncooperative magic, only succeeding in speeding up her descent. The sounds of the rushing water below quickly advanced on her ears, overpowering the winds to take their turn at battering her senses. 

As the spinning world gave her a glimpse of what lay below, her flailing increased tenfold. With a cold feeling spreading in her chest, Amayeli realized that she was directly on course for the rocks that littered the edges of the creek. The girl frantically tried to move through the air to land in the deep waters of the creek and not the rock-filled shallows. Her movements only turned her body so that she could see the rocks as she advanced on them.

It was as if a switch had turned off once all she could see was rock and water; the cries and shouts that had dominated her mind all at once fell quiet. The impact was swift and filled with new sensations that she could analyze all too well with the fresh silence that reigned in her head. Amayeli could feel herself hit the rocks at several points across her body. Her fuzzy mind noted with muted surprise that the rock her head had hit was rather sharp. She decided she didn't like the feeling of the warm stream that ran down her face any more than she liked the cold that soaked through her dress. Her fingers moved against the wet moss that covered the rocks, she oriented them to grip the rock and push herself up, only managing to rise an inch or so before her tired arms gave out. Amayeli's hazed mind did nothing, merely letting herself fall back down as dark shadows intruded on her vision. She thought she heard a scream from above.

Pappa?

Her pappa was screaming, he is sad, she has to go help him not be sad. Her clouded mind was set once she fully recognized the sounds coming from above. She tried once more to push herself up, managing several more inches than the first time. Her head hit the rock once more when she came back down, her hand having slipped on the slick moss. This time, she shadows that clouded her vision did not recede.

 

 

Chapter 17: 17.

Silent tears forced their way from the corners of Finland's eyes and down his ghostly pale face as the rift faded to black once more. He could no longer face the dark rectangle at the head of the table, and lowered his gaze to his lap. The squeeze from Matthew's hand was grounding, but did not have the comforting effect that was likely intended. 

If that had happened to Amelia, then what had happened to Matthew? Had his native family decided that he and the other Nordics could not properly care for the twins, or had something equally horrific happened to him as well?

His babies.

His poor, poor babies.

His baby.

How badly had the fall hurt?

Could they have gotten to her before her native family had taken her back if he had gotten there faster? 

Would he have been able to care for her and help her wounds heal like a good parent?

Would he have been able to keep them with him? To remain as a family in the following centuries?

… was she happier without him?

The Nordics began to spiral in the privacy of their thoughts; the image of the bloodied body of the little girl they had loved so much seared into their brains like a brand. Sweden in particular couldn't get her bloodied face out of his head, her blank stare boring into him as bright crimson blended into the rocks and water. Iceland had buried his head in his arms long before Amayeli had finally lost her grip on the roots. His agonized shaking was noticed by Norway, but he could only offer the comforting weight of his hand on Iceland's shoulder, too choked by his own emotions to utter a word.

Matthew had looked away completely when his sister had begun her unwilling descent, not wanting more nightmare fuel of the broken, battered bodies of his siblings to haunt him at night. He kept his eyes trained on the hand Diego rested on his arm. Squeezes kept hands firmly attached to him from both sides, Diego on his right with his hand gently holding his forearm, and Finland on his left with his hand desperately grasping onto Matthew's own as silent sobs racked the smaller man's body.

The others at the table displayed looks of shock, horror, discomfort, and odd blends of the three. England refused to look, as did Spain, but they still jolted at the sickening crack that resonated through the rift when the small girl's body met the rocks. France forced himself to observe the fate of his little girl through squinted eyes as his hands constricted around his mouth, halting any sound from escaping his throat. Prussia's eyes were still stuck on the blackened display of the rift, his face scrunched up in empathy for his best friend while his brother leaned on the edge of the table. Germany had felt nauseous as soon as he saw America's body hit the rocks, and was now leaning his arms on the table while resting his head on the edge. Italy had stopped clinging to him when he had suddenly moved, going instead to clutch at his brother, Romano's, arm. Surprisingly, the grumpy Italian did not shout at his twin, instead he continued to stare at nothing, trying to process what he had just witnessed as he forced measured breaths in and out. China was in a similar state to Romano, but without anyone clinging to him. He had not thought the young nation had gone through any significant hardships, personal or otherwise. America had always appeared so upbeat, still unbroken by the world, but now he had to wonder. There was no motion in the silent room, except for the slight tremors he noticed in Japan. China's head immediately snapped to Russia when the tall nation's shifting broke the photo-like stillness of the meeting room. The arctic nation leaned back in his chair, taking in his surroundings with an intrigued expression and a slight curl to his lips. A fire sparked in China's chest, burning hotter as he watched the Russian. 

Did he think this was amusing? That it was some sort of game?

China's mouth twitched. He may not like America very much, but they were watching a child suffer. Children are pure, uncorrupted by the world, how in the world could Russia watch a young child suffer like this and smile about it? 

----------

Amelia barely noticed when her emotions became little more than a muted hum in the background of her mind. Cold analysis wrapped around her with the welcome comfort of a weighted blanket. The sensation was almost identical to the calm that she faintly remembered enveloping her when she had hit the rocks all those centuries ago. 

She moved for the first time in what felt like ages, stepping back and to the side as she looked up. Amelia noted the lack of water swirling and splashing as she moved, coming to the conclusion that she was still levitating over the water. It was a strange feeling, she would swear that she could feel a smooth floor beneath her. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't felt the dirt or grass from her previous surroundings under her bare feet either, just a smooth, cold floor.

With a shake of her head, Amelia decided to file away that observation for later. For now, she shifted her gaze upwards to the place she had fallen from so many centuries ago. As she looked upwards, the protective apathy loosened. Sweden... Her pappa, was screaming, trying to reach down for her as her farbröder held onto him just as fiercely, keeping him from falling over the edge as well. Amelia felt her emotions tug at the shroud of cold analysis that wrapped around her so protectively. She continued to stare upwards, and felt the frigid shroud fall to her feet in a heap as she caught sight of the tears that dripped down her pappa's face, following his screams down after his daughter. They were just barely visible from where she stood, at least 200 feet away, glistening in the remaining orange light like fiery diamonds as they fell. 

Her emotions slammed back into her chest, forcing salty liquid to gather in her eyes. She just continued to stare, refusing to blink and let her tears fall. Amelia knew the other nations were watching, the number was uncertain, but she knew they were there on the other side of an unseen rift, just like she had been nearly eight decades ago. There was no way she was going to allow herself to be seen as weak, and she certainly wasn't going to allow her fa- … England the pleasure of knowing he had hurt her.

The rift faded to black, but Amelia kept her head tilted back, still staring at the spot in the nonexistent sky where the image of Sweden had leaned over the edge of the cliff. Was it because she wanted to see him again, to call him pappa and allow herself to be enveloped by his warm hug? … Maybe, she wasn't quite sure. Was it to buy time for her tears to dry before they could fall? Definitely.

As she finally lowered her gaze back to eye-level, her surroundings finally began to fill in with colorful objects and structures once more. 

The midday sun trickled in through the mamateek's entrance, falling upon a young girl's face and catching her in the eye as she stirred. She made little noise as she opened her cerulean eyes, brushing curly black hair out of her face while she tiredly searched for the source of the soft humming she could hear. Her mind was cloudy, she didn't remember falling asleep, nor did she remember coming to Beothuk's land. A soft noise crept from her throat when her hand hit something warm and moist on her face. Amayeli furrowed her brows slightly, wincing when that small motion caused a pain to shoot through the right side of her face.

Many quiet sounds surrounded Amayeli: the twitter of birds, the hushed noise of wind passing through trees, and the soft chatter of people outside. All of those sounds were muffled by distance, which made it all the more noticeable when the soft humming from across the mamateek ceased. In its place was sudden shifting as someone moved closer. Amayeli began to turn her head to the source of the movement, but a gentle hand found its way to her chin, effectively stopping her. The small girl opened her mouth a sliver to speak, but was countered again.

"Shhh, Ama, don't move yet," a female voice crooned. There was more shifting before the girl came into view.

"Mi'kmaq?" Amayeli questioned, surprising herself with the poor state of her voice, it might as well have been some old woman who had spoken. She cleared her throat, hoping to clear some of the hoarseness from her voice, wincing once more when a pain shot through her sore throat. The girl felt as if she had gargled gravel, or screamed until her voice gave out, but she didn't remember doing either of those things.

Her older sister shushed her again, the sound low and soothing. She moved her hand to Amayeli's cheek, giving it a caring rub before moving to the thing Amayeli had bumped earlier, guiding her small hand away at the same time. Mi'kmaq carefully lifted what was on Amayeli's face, checking what was underneath with a scrutinizing gaze. Amayeli could tell that the thing was covered in cloth... and squishy--ew. 

Mi'kmaq seemed pleased with whatever she saw and fully removed the object from where it had sat over her little sister's right eye. She turned to grab another cloth, which she dabbed into a stone bowl filled with water. Once the cloth was nice and damp, Mi'kmaq leaned over her sister to wipe at the right side of her face.

Now that Amayeli had gotten a good look at the object that had been over her eye, she identified it as a poultice. She frowned in confusion when she noticed the semi-dry blood that stained the underside of the poultice. Amayeli did not remember getting hurt, why had she been bleeding? Her frown contorted into a pained grimace as stabbing, tearing pains attacked her. She could feel the line that had been torn through her skin, starting high up on her forehead and stretching to just below her cheekbone. The rubbing of the damp cloth so close to her wound didn't help, sending lightening strikes of pain branching throughout her face with each dab of the cloth.

"Mik?" Amayeli spoke up, the quiet vibrations of her voice irritating her damaged throat.

"Hmm?"  The older girl met her little sister's eye, purposely avoiding the one that was kept half-shut with dried blood.

"Why am I bleeding?" The question was hushed, though not by choice, yet it still made the older girl flinch.

Mi'kmaq looked away from Amayeli, bunching up the cloth in her hands before setting it aside. When she finally turned her gaze back to her little sister, she did not meet her eyes. "How much do you remember?"

Amayeli tilted her head slightly, rising up to lean back on her elbows. She furrowed her brows in concentration, not noticing when a pain shot through her eyebrow. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly as she stared hard at a point on the ground. When she finally managed to form words, uncertainty coated her sentence. "I... I remember playing with Kanata... we were on the beach, and..." Amayeli's brows were pulled closer together as she wracked her brain, "that's it." She looked back up at her sister, a question in her gaze, "Why?"

The older girl shifted her weight uneasily as she sat next to her little sister. "It, uh... sounds like there's a gap in your memory." Amayeli stared at her sister expectantly, tilting her head in confusion when Mi'kmaq faltered. 

Just as Mi'kmaq opened her mouth to speak once more, another -- older -- woman swept into the mamateek, bringing with her the scent of rainwater and oak. "Hello, little one, I heard you were awake. You gave us all a great scare." 

A smile stretched across Amayeli's face at the sight of the older woman, who had to duck to enter the mamateek. "Mama!" The exclamation came out just as hoarse as all of her other words had, but this time it held a sense of joy. Amayeli sat up fully, turning to face her mother as she sat down next to Mi'kmaq. 

The tall woman gave the little girl a kind smile, "How do you feel, my little fox?"

"My face hurts," Amayeli replied honestly, carelessly shrugging her shoulders. The movement sent a pain through her upper arm, drawing the girl's attention from the two women in front of her. She realized that her shoulder was sore and had been bleeding as well, and now that the blanket was no longer covering most of her body, she could see a number of other places that were red with dried blood as well. "Oh, and some other places too," she added. Now that she could see the full extent of her injuries, she was starting to feel them as well. Amayeli shifted her weight to take pressure off of some of her injuries before the looked back up to her mother's crimson and gold marbled eyes.

"I can see that," Her mother's smile fell slightly. "It is a good thing that Kanata and Beothuk found you when they did."

Amayeli tilted her head again, glancing at Mi'kmaq before looking her mother in the eyes--maybe she would get a better answer from her. "Mama, what happened?"

The girl observed as her mother's eyes widened slightly in surprise. Her mother turned to Mi'kmaq, who spoke as if on cue, "The last thing she remembers is playing on the beach with Kanata."

Her mother's reaction was not one that Amayeli expected. Sadness, worry, those were emotions she would have expected to see on her mama's face, not the anger that was put on full display as she clenched her fists and looked to the ground. A sharp mutter broke free from the woman's mouth before she quickly composed herself and looked back up at her little girl. Amayeli's brows furrowed in confusion, could have sworn she had heard her mama say, "Damn those pale-faces." She had never heard of a pale-face, what was her mother talking about?

"Mama, what is a pale-face?"

That question seemed to shock both of the women, who once again traded looks. Amayeli didn't understand, what was going on? Why did they keep reacting like she was missing something big? The frustration in her chest began to burn like the wounds on her body. "What?" The question came out more aggressively than she had intended, but it prompted her mother to respond. 

"There is no need for that tone," Native America scolded her sternly before taking a gentler approach. "They are people with skin like the snow, and they are dangerous people," her voice gained a dark edge before it softened once again, becoming overly sweet like honey. "But you do not have to worry about them, they do not roam this land," she took her youngest daughter's hands in her own as she spoke, keeping a calm smile on her face.

Amayeli did not understand. If she did not have to worry about pale-faces, why did her mother just curse their name? What confused her more than her mother's words, however, was her sister's lack of them. In fact, Mi'kmaq looked more surprised at her mama's words than Amayeli herself was. She managed to catch her elder sister's eye, but she simply looked to their mother and then back to her with a strained smile. Amayeli was sure that her confusion was as obvious as the blood on her face, but she nodded her head regardless, certain that she would receive no more answers on the subject.

"Good girl," Her mother crooned, cupping Amayeli's left cheek with her hand. She tilted her head and focused on her daughter's damaged eye. "Can you see with both of your eyes?"

The young girl blinked a few times, bringing her hand up to gingerly wipe away dried clumps of blood. When she was finished, she could open both eyes fully, revealing that her right eye was no longer a bright cerulean, but a clouded blue-gray. As Amayeli looked around, she realized that her field of vision was slightly smaller, and a blurry boarder dominated the right side of her vision. She felt her heart miss a beat when she realized that she could no longer fully see out of her right eye. Anger and fear joined the frustration twisting in her chest and she shook her head as an answer. 

Native America's face fell in disappointment and she removed her hand from Amayeli's face. "Rest, little one," she said, her smooth voice strong, yet wise, like aged oak, "we will speak more later, and hopefully help you retrieve the memories that were shaken loose by your fall out of that tree. For now, I must go talk with your elder siblings." Her mother gave her one last smile before she rose and swept out of the mamateek with all the grace of a seasoned ruler.

----------

"A tree?!" Finland exclaimed, shattering the silence that had reigned over the meeting room. He couldn't believe it, Native America hadn't simply wiped their memories of them, she had lied to her own children, to his children. How could she tell Amayeli that he was dangerous, that he, her mutsi, was someone to be feared.

Sweden simply shook his head, the agonized twist to his features never faltering, "Never liked us."

Finland gave an exasperated sigh, "I-... no, I suppose she didn't." The small man gathered himself, swiping at his eyes with his free hand before taking Matthew's hand in both of his. He turned to face his son, "I promise you," he began, looking straight into Matthew's eyes, surprisingly, Matthew didn't look away, "we will fix this. We can be a family again... that is, if you and Amelia want to."

A small snicker came from the other side of Canada. Diego leaned over the table to look around his brother at Finland. The corners of his mouth were turned upwards, and small creases had formed at the edges of his eyes, "I don't think you realize just how many people come with those two."

Maria's higher pitched chuckle snuck out from the other side of Diego. Finland raised his eyebrows in mild surprise before his mouth made a little o in understanding. That was right, they probably considered a majority of England, France, and Spain's other colonies siblings. He supposed that was quite a large family, but that didn't matter, he would invite all of them into his life without hesitation if it meant he could have his two babies back. The short blonde smiled at the three New World siblings, "That's a minor thing, we would be more than happy to call all of you family."

Matthew grinned wider than Finland had ever seen him smile before and turned to exchange glances with his siblings, not letting go of Finland for a moment. The three of them shared a quiet laugh before Matthew turned back to Tino, "I can't wait," his voice sounded stronger than it had earlier.

Finland gave him a watery grin and went in for a hug before his tears could fall once more. Matthew happily accepted the embrace, wrapping his own arms around the father he hadn't been able to know.

---------

Amayeli watched as her mother left, closing her good eye. To her partial relief, she could still see the colorful shape of her mother move away. That was good, at least her bad eye wasn't completely blind.

Mi'kmaq reached over to take her sister's face into her hands, gently prodding at the areas around Amayeli's right eye. "I'm so sorry Ama," she whispered to her, hushed by the emotions clogging her throat, though Amayeli suspected the damage to her eye wasn't the only thing she was upset about. "Anasazi tried her best to heal you, but she said that, since you aren't a true tribe yet, she might not be able to heal all of the damage. Maybe... maybe it will heal more when you're older."  Mi'kmaq's last sentence sounded more like a question than reassurance, but Amayeli decided that she might as well have hope. 

She was about to nod her head and agree with her older sister, but then some of her earlier words registered. "Anasazi is here?" Amayeli's damaged voice carried more excitement than it had when her mother had joined them, and she abruptly shifted to a sitting position with her legs underneath her, ready to unfold and run out of the mamateek.

"Oh, uh, yes, she arrived here just yesterday," Mi'kmaq's face un-scrunched from its worried position in favor of a surprised raise of her eyebrows.

Amayeli gasped and immediately sprang up to dart out of the mamateek and search for her elder sister's dwelling. 

----------

As the rift faded to black once more Latvia couldn't stop the surprised hum from slipping out of his throat. He immediately shrank down into his chair as pairs of eyes turned to him. Lithuania leaned over to look him in the eyes from his seat beside him. His gaze was gentle and warm, encouraging Latvia to speak with a questioning hum of his own. Latvia opened his mouth, but no sound came, though he was less hesitant to talk than before the Nordics and New World siblings had spoken, he still felt like it wasn't his place to speak. 

"What is it, Raivis?" Lithuania's voice was so quiet, it barely pierced the quiet, though it did give Latvia a reason to respond.

"I just- it- er..." Latvia began, stuttering before he lightly cleared his throat and matched Lithuania's slight volume. "It's just kind of weird to know that America's eye is nearly blind, um she always seemed like she had extra eyes on the back of her head... o-or something." By the time Latvia was done speaking, nearly every nation's attention had turned to him. He swallowed thickly, and sank down farther into his chair, wanting to slide under the table and never come out.

West Mexico gave Latvia a considering look, casually resting her head on her hand as she took him in. "I mean, you're not wrong," she drawled.

Prussia released an amused huff as Denmark nodded along. "Damn right he's not wrong," the Prussian said, "it's like she has x-ray vision or something."

"Or just-a really damn good hearing," Romano added. "You can't say a damn thing around her without-a her catching it."

"Unless it's in a language other than English," Austria added. It was clear that his remark didn't have the effect he intended, as while he, England, and Spain snickered lightly, America's friends and family did not share their amusement.

The New World siblings, along with Prussia, Romano, Lithuania, and the Nordics, glared at the three nations while Hungary simply shook her head in disapproval. 

"You do realize that we haven't heard a single word of English in a single one of these memories, right? We have all heard her speak Native American languages, Swedish, Norwegian, Finnish, Icelandic, and Danish as a child and you still want to use the language joke?" If looks could kill, Denmark would have murdered Austria by now for his rude ignorance.

"And she definitely speaks German, she has practically since I first met her," Prussia chimed in, his crimson irises joining Denmark in attempting to bore a hole through Austria's core. "I'd be willing to bet that there isn't a single word any of you have said at the meetings that she didn't understand," he added.

That last sentence was enough to plunge the room into silence once more. The other Nordics and Japan felt a pang of guilt ring through their bodies. They had never enjoyed listening to the one-sided verbal war many of their colleagues waged against  Amelia, but they had rarely intervened. Each of them had heard various side comments made about the superpower -- nasty remarks spoken in various languages so that the object of their anger and aggression wouldn't know they were being talked about. None of them had thought that Amelia might have been able to understand  them, especially since she never so much as batted an eye -- even when the comments were made right in front of her.

Austria and the other nations who had found his comment amusing had a very different train of thought running through their heads. If America truly understood all of their languages, and that was a big if,  then why hadn't she ever called them out? More importantly, what would she do when she got back? There was no doubt in any of their minds that England's little stunt had really pissed America off, even more so than anything they had ever seen between America and Russia. Her little tantrum after she woke up in the pocket dimension confirmed that she would most likely attack him when the opportunity arose. That raised the question, however, what would she do to them? She would likely live through some of the more... difficult meetings, but when she was reminded of that, would she take her aggression out on them as well? Her actions from the past two days showed that she was more willing to take violent actions against them than she had been in the past. After all, she had nearly crushed England's wrist and screamed violent threats at him merely an hour or two earlier, where before she rarely touched anybody and made questionable jokes instead of threats.

What would happen when this was all over?

Chapter 18: 18

The sounds of the woods spilled out of the pocket dimension before any color had returned. It filled Amelia with a tentative sense of calm before the scenery filled in around her and her jaw clenched once more. The gap in her memory had felt impossibly large and irreparable before today, and the memory she found herself in instantly brought back those feelings of frustration and helplessness as she instantly recognized the memory as the one glimpse into her past she had never been able to make sense of until now. With all of the missing pieces now forced perfectly into place, she understood the implications of what she had witnessed centuries ago all too well. The sudden realization made her stomach ache with nausea. 

Amayeli quickly moved through the forest with her twin brother, Kanata, in tow. The two went at an odd half-run-half-walk pace as the barely older girl urged her brother onwards.

"Come on, Kanata!" She tried to accelerate to a running speed, but stopped momentarily to let her brother catch up. Once he came within grabbing range, she took him by the wrist and began pulling him along.

"Why do you want to go so far from the village, Ama?" Kanata questioned his sister, sounding more confused than irritated, though both tones were present as he was practically dragged through the woods.

"There's something to explore here, I just know it!" The small girl couldn't find the words to explain why she felt the need to go in the specific direction she felt a pull of curiosity from. Maybe it wasn't curiosity at all, it felt almost like the excitement she felt every time she came back from a trip and saw her mother or older siblings again. Whatever it was, it was calling to her, begging to be found by the girl.

Kanata didn't seem to understand Amayeli's reasoning, but he knew his sister. He was familiar with her sudden bursts of curiosity and energy. She had dragged him to many a place for them to explore, sometimes they were old ruins and other times they were beautiful landforms. As they began to close in on their destination, however, Kanata began to believe that this wouldn't be like any of their other adventures. Looking up to the sky, the small boy could see what remained of the smoke clouds that he had been watching with his older siblings merely a few hours earlier. "Ama, we're heading towards the smoke," he warned with a worried edge to his voice as he tried to pull away from his sister.

Amayeli's grasp didn't falter as she tilted her head up to look at the sky as well, noticing the dwindling streams of black smoke. "Huh, I guess we are," she lowered her gaze back to eye level and continued to push forward, dragging her brother along for the ride. Whatever this pulling sensation in her soul was, she was certain it was important and she wouldn't turn back because of a few measly wisps of smoke.

"Ama, listen," Kanata spoke again, his voice made louder by the urgency it held. "We could be going into a woodland fire, that's what the elders thought the smoke was earlier." He began to tug more harshly at their joined hands and dug his heels into the dirt to slow his sister down.

Both of the children halted, much to the surprise of the boy, who slammed into his sister at the sudden stop. The girl payed no mind to the collision and looked her brother in the eyes with an uncharacteristically serious expression carved into her face. "'Nata," she began, her harsh gaze prompting the boy to shrink in on himself slightly, "I know there's something over here, I don't know how I know, but I know. Besides, whatever that smoke is coming from isn't the woods itself, it smells too different. I've seen fires consume parts of woods before, and this does not look or smell like one of those fires." Amayeli turned once more to face forward, walking once more in the direction of the smoke. "Trust me, 'Nata," she did not look back at her brother as she pulled him along, speeding up to a run. This time, Kanata stayed quiet with his worries and followed behind his sister, giving their joined hands a squeeze.

The two continued to run through the lush woods, eventually coming to a dirt path that had been worn through the underbrush. Amayeli slowed to a walk and altered course to travel on the dirt path. 

"That's weird," Kanata frowned down at the path, "I don't remember a path being over this way." It didn't look like a freshly made path, but there was no way it had been there for very long--otherwise he would have remembered it. How in the world did it get here?

There was silence for a brief moment before Amayeli looked back to meet her brother's eye once more. Her gaze was not as intimidating as it had been moments before, and she looked at him with a questioning expression that matched her tone as she spoke. "Is it weird that I think this looks familiar?"

Kanata shook his head with a sigh, "I mean, I guess not since your head is so screwed up."

"Hey!" Amayeli's features contorted in indignance, "My head is not screwed up!"

"Oh, really?" Kanata teased, "Mother says you hit it so hard that bits of your mind flew out."

"I did not! My mind is fine!" Amayeli shouted, yanking her brother's hand for emphasis. Kanata simply giggled in response to his sister's pout.

"Come on, you know I'm just joking around," he laughed, swinging their joined hands around as he went to walk beside his sister instead of behind her.

Amayeli gave a "hmph," in reply as she bumped into him sideways, knocking him to the side and almost off of the path. Kanata quickly regained his footing and gave her a playful scowl before shoving her with his own shoulder in retaliation. The two immediately burst into giggles and continued to playfully shove each other back and forth as they walked until their sides began to ache. 

Soon, the children came upon the end of the path, paying more attention to their little game than what lay ahead of them. Amayeli gave Kanata a final shove, underestimating her strength and sending him stumbling sideways to the ground. The girl quickly went to help him up, only to falter when he directed her attention to something else.

"Oh, wow," The words fell from Kanata's mouth as he stared past Amayeli. She followed her brother's line of sight, her eyes falling on a scattering of buildings made from wood and earth. Amayeli felt her brother sit up beside her as they both stared at the new scenery. 

This time, it was Kanata who took Amayeli's hand, pulling her up with him as he urged his sister forward. They walked towards the buildings in awe, realizing that two of the biggest structures had been set on fire a while before they had arrived. Charred skeletons were the only things left of the two structures that still released trails of black smoke into the sky. The few remaining flames were buried out of sight, only alerting the twins to their presence with their gluttonous crackling as they continued to consume what little of the buildings were left. 

Amayeli absently slipped her hand out of her brother's grasp as she walked forward, passing one of the still-intact buildings to circle the remains of the closest burning building. Kanata went over to investigate the building she had passed without her, but Amayeli found herself unable to care. These buildings must have been the things that she had felt compelled to explore, so why did she feel that something was missing? The girl did a full visual scan of the burnt and collapsed remains of the building, having fully adjusted to her limited vision by now. She could still feel that pulling in her chest but, unlike before, there was no direction to follow. Amayeli was certain that  there was something else she needed to find, there had to be, but it was nowhere to be found. What made everything even more frustrating was that the clearing seemed familiar, like she had seen it before -- she could even picture what the large buildings had looked like before they had been burned down. If her life depended on describing why or how, she would be dead where she stood, but she still couldn't shake the feeling. Her discomfort was written all over her face as she stood staring at what used to be the entrance to the large building. 

A shout pulled her from her musings to quickly look around for her brother. She soon caught sight of him waving her over near the tree line to her right. There were two strange structures in the ground at his feet. Without wasting any more time, Amayeli began walking over to him. As she got closer, she realized that the things near her twin's feet were not structures at all, but circles of rocks surrounding patches of upturned ground. 

"Look what I found!" Kanata exclaimed once his twin was close enough for him to show off his discovery. He stepped out from between the two circles, "What do you think they are? I think they look kind of like graves."

Amayeli walked forward a few more steps to stand beside her brother, looking down at the circles. After a moment of consideration, she shook her head, "No, they're too small, you can't lay someone down in that -- it's barely big enough for one of us to sit in the center." 

Kanata gave a small pout, "Well what else could it be?" He frowned, carefully considering the two, ritual-like alterations of the ground.

Amayeli's brows drew together, nearly touching in her concentration. The circles were nearly perfect in shape -- clearly made with care -- and one was made with different colored rocks than the other, which she found odd. The one on the left was made with darker stones while the one in front of Kanata was made of lighter ones. Amayeli lowered herself to the ground, crouching down to inspect the dirt in the darker stone circle's center. Running a hand through the dirt proved it to be loose and pliant, a quick glance at the other circle showed it was identical.

"Looks like it was just dug up," Kanata voiced his sister's thoughts, crouching down beside her as she nodded in agreement. "But I didn't see anyone, did you?"

"No, I didn't," Amayeli shook her head. Even now, as she listened, she could not hear or smell anyone other than her twin and the critters that played beyond the tree line. The girl grabbed another handful of dirt, letting it fall through her fingers back down to the circle. A considering expression overtook her face before she let curiosity get the better of her. 

"Woah, are you sure that's a good idea?" Kanata questioned his twin, worry and panic seeping into his tone. 

Amayeli simply kept digging, brushing the dirt from the center outwards until a continuous mound of dirt formed near the boarder of rocks. "The only way to see if anything is here is to dig until we find something. If we don't find anything, then it must be some weird fire pit."

A distressed noise made its way from Kanata's throat, but he did not move to stop his twin. "Just be careful," he said, "I still think there might be a dead body, they could have just buried it upright instead of laying down."

The girl huffed, but felt something in the dirt before she could express her doubts. She froze, searching the dirt for a glimpse of color, when she saw nothing she began wiggling her fingers around to find what she had brushed over. 

"What is it? Did you find something? If it's wet or bony please just leave it alone," Kanata begged, backing away as he braced for his sister to yank a dead limb out of the dirt. 

To the surprise of both twins, Amayeli pulled a thin strip of an animal fiber, possibly leather, out of the ground. In her hand, the girl held the half-buried strip, carefully appraising it before giving it a final tug. Along with the rest of the string, a large charm popped out of the ground. Amayeli carefully brought the necklace to up to eye level as she wiped the dirt from the metal circle, her eyes drinking in every detail of the engraved symbol as it was revealed. It appeared to be rather simple, consisting of only three diamonds joined at one point to resemble a triangle, but it awed the girl regardless. As she turned her attention to the gemstones embedded in the metal around its edge, she felt a tug at her sleeve.

"Keep going!" Kanata encouraged his sister, his stance on digging up the circles having done a near one-eighty. "I want to see what else there is!"

Amayeli laughed and set the necklace aside, turning to face her brother, "Oh, really? Not scared of finding a dead body anymore?" She teased him with a smile, earning a pout and a shove to her shoulder in response. The girl just chuckled and went back to searching through the dirt. In her search, she found a knife and hatchet, as well as an ornate comb and a small, cloth toy resembling an odd looking bird. Both of the twins sat in silence as they inspected each of the treasures with awe.

Eventually, Kanata was the one to break the silence. "I can't imagine why anyone would just bury a bunch of nice things like this. Any ideas, Ama?" He turned to face his twin, but she showed no signs of having heard him.

The girl stared at the necklace in her hands, taking in the magical glow of the reddish, amber, and clear gemstones embedded in its metal charm around the triangle-like symbol. Unfortunately, it did little to distract her from the pulling sensation in her chest, which had only doubled with each uncovered treasure. There was something else she needed to find. A hand on her arm coaxed her out of her thoughts and she looked over to her twin, eyes widened, resembling a sense of surprise, as she gazed at him through a haze. "Hm?"

"Are you alright?" Kanata asked his sister, worry painting his features once more. "You've been off ever since we found this place."

Amayeli turned back to the necklace, "I don't know 'Nata." She rubbed at the metal face of the charm with her thumb to dislodge more of the dirt that still clung to its surface. A sigh escaped her as she dropped her hands back down onto her lap, looking back to Kanata. "It's just-, I brought us here because I could feel that there was something here we needed to find."

Kanata nodded his head, "And we found it--I mean--I've never seen anything like this before." He cracked a smile as he gestured to the buildings behind them. 

"No!" Amayeli shook her head vehemently, "There's something else, I know there is... but I can't see anything else."

"Something else?" Her twin questioned, genuine confusion dominating his features.

"Something else, someone else, I don't know!" Amayeli threw her hands up in exasperation before bringing the necklace charm up to inspect it once more. "I thought for a moment that this might have something to do with it but now I don't know. The longer I think about it, the fainter the feeling gets."

"The necklace? Why?" Kanata tilted his head in confusion.

"I can see the magic aura it gives off, its like a blueish glow, can't you sense it?" Amayeli turned the necklace charm to show it to her twin. 

Kanata nodded faintly, "I still don't understand why it would have anything to do with you finding something."

Amayeli's shoulders slumped, "I don't know, but the aura feels familiar."

----------

Finland forced out a slow breath, feeling another wave of tears pressing against the backs of his eyes. "They came back, you came back," he turned to Matthew, "you came back," he repeated. His eyes squinted slightly with restrained emotions and he lowered his head to focus his gaze on their joined hands, unable to watch his son's expression. "If only we had waited another day," Finland breathed, his voice choked with grief and hushed to a whisper, "We had just left for Greenland that morning."

Matthew felt his throat begin to close as tears clawed their way out of his tear ducts to well up in his eyes. Had he really been that close to getting his family back? If he had let his twin drag him out into the woods a few hours earlier, would they have a better life with parents that actually watched over them instead of leaving them on their own while they traveled back to Europe? The tall blonde tried to say something, anything, to his mutsi, but found he could not manage to do more than open his mouth and choke on half-formed words.

Sweden watched forlornly as the image of his young daughter picked up the knife he had buried for her. Her close inspection and cautious recognition of the knife sent shards of ice to burrow into his chest. As he watched his daughter, the miniscule shifting of a myriad of emotions on her face, he came to a realization that made his heart skip a beat. "'ey didn' use magic on her memories," the observation came out as a hushed murmur as his eyes widened and glazed with unfallen tears.

All eyes turned to him as the New World Siblings' friends and family tried to grapple with the possibility. 

France looked down at his hands as he wrung them. Tentatively, he turned his gaze to rest upon the Nordics and his three children, "Do you really think that's possible? I mean, wouldn't she have remembered something by now since she sees all of you at least once a month anymore?"

Norway met France's eye, very little of his previous contempt being directed at the colonizer. He was simply too emotionally drained at the moment to project his anger outwards, partly because France didn't strike him as the worst of the trio. "Who knows, memories are finnicky." Lukas fell silent for a moment, his brows furrowing in contemplation, "Though, I suppose... She said that she was looking for something else and couldn't find it, she might have been looking for us." The cold nation looked to his fellow Nordics, but it was not one of them who responded.

"It-It's entirely possible," Japan timidly spoke up, hoping to be of some use if he was going to be forced to watch the memories of the woman who had once been his friend. "It might also explain why she could not remember any of you. Her mind could have considered the memories traumatic because you were no where to be found when she looked for you. She likely didn't remember the incident that separated you because of her head injury, so when she could not find you her mind did not understand why and repressed the memories of you to cope." The Asian nation's voice grew stronger as he spoke, confidence seeping in when the Nordics and New World Siblings looked at him with serious consideration.

Diego nodded his head, cracking a small, bittersweet smile, "Well, that sure 'xplains that 'secret language' you guys had." He turned to his older brother, raising his fingers up to make air qotes.

Matthew stared at him for a moment before what he had said clicked into place, "Oh, right." He let a few chuckles slip out, "I forgot 'bout that."

Iceland leaned over the table to get a better look at Matthew, "Secret language?"

Matthew nodded his head, a small smile curving his lips. "Yeah, a year or so after all this," he gestured to the scene behind the rift, "Amelia re-taught me the languages we had used when we were with you guys. We used them to speak to each other when we didn't want our siblings to know what we were talking about, still do sometimes. The words are so old compared to what you guys speak now that I suppose they never caught on." He jabbed a thumb over at the Mexico twins, a small laugh escaping him.

 

Chapter 19: 19.

Joyful chatter and bright colors spilled out of the rift, erupting from the blackness of the memory change. The young focus of these memories was giggling up a storm, being carried around by one of her older brothers as he danced around. Bright laughter filled the Native American village as the sun's golden rays turned bronze.

"I wonder what they're celebrating," China thought out loud. A series of curious hums from various nations were his unsolicited responses. 

Canada tilted his head thoughtfully before a small grin split his lips apart. "Oh, I remember this," he muttered, playfully elbowing Diego. The Mexicos traded looks, Diego shrugged at his sister, he knew they hadn't been born yet, so why did Matthew look at them? Did he forget that he and 'meils were the oldest? Diego gave his older brother a deadpan look, but he wasn't looking so his eyes trailed over to the rift, a grumpy slouch overtaking his features. 

Maria was confused by her older brother's reaction to the memory as well, it was just some party--one that she hadn't been around to see. So why had Matthew looked at them expectantly, like he thought they would remember it and react with him? A look of understanding slowly bloomed on Maria's face. Oh, so that's what this was.

----------

Amayeli couldn't help but giggle as her brother began to swing her around. A smile so wide that it made her cheeks hurt was stuck on her face. Her hair flew every which way as her older brother adjusted his grip on her legs and began to spin in a circle. He was holding her by her ankles now, the soft breeze whipped across her face as she flew through the air. 

Their other siblings cleared away from the shrieking child. A few of the younger children saw this display and immediately climbed onto their older siblings, despite some protests. Others laughed and cheered, jumping in and out of Amayeli's path as she playfully attempted to grab them. 

Eventually, Amayeli was put down in a pile of giggles. Childish laughter came from above her, joining her in her glee. She swiped the dark curls from her face to see her twin standing over her.

"Come on, everyone's going to the river," Kanata forces out between giggles. His sister's laughter was contagious, and he was ashamed to say he had no immunity.

The small girl leapt up, smile stretching so wide it looked to be centimeters from splitting her face in half. However, instead of running towards the woodland path, like her twin would have expected, she dove for his knees. Kanata's shriek pulled yet more giggles from the girl as she hoisted him up, her arms wrapped around his knees. He was draped over her shoulder backwards as she began to run. Everything he could see was upside-down, even the laughing figures of his siblings walking behind them. 

"Ama!" Kanata shouted as he craned neck to look at the back of his sister's head. His only response was the shifting of black curls to reveal the playfully mischievous glint in his twin's bad eye and another flurry of giggles. 

With much effort, Kanata managed to pull himself up to sit on his sister's shoulder. She adjusted her grip on him in response, holding him up with both arms wrapped securely around his thighs. Picking up speed, Amayeli weaved around their siblings, excitedly running along the path. 

Soon, they made it to a clearing where many of their siblings had already gathered. Amayeli stopped near the center of the clearing and looked around. Many of her siblings sat on the ground or on rocks, a few had even found spots in the trees. The youngest of her older siblings were over by the river, playing in its waters that glowed a golden hue--stolen from the sun's last rays. 

Amayeli was practically vibrating with excitement, jumping up and down in place. A panicked hand on her head reminded her she was still carrying her brother, and she quickly dropped him on his feet in front of her. He gave a weary sigh and pinned her with a tired look, that she returned with another animated smile. 

Her eyes scanned the trees around surrounding the clearing, her eyes finally landing on one in particular. It was a grand tree with branches that stretched over the canopy above them as well as out across the river it leaned towards. Without skipping a beat, she grabbed her twin's hand and pulled him towards the base of the tree that had caught her eye.

She was suddenly glad all over again that she had convinced her mother to let her wear pants. Climbing trees was a lot more fun when she didn't have to worry about her dress catching or showing too much. Amayeli had to make her own clothes if she wanted to wear pants, but that was fine with her. The girl liked how securely they hugged her body towards the top, but hung more loosely at the ankle--almost like her skirts. Fresh air tickled her midsection, below the piece of hide wrapped around her chest, as she ascended into the tree. 

The child could hear her brother begrudgingly following her as she scaled the trunk like a squirrel. Once she had gotten to the tree's main fork, she climbed up the left trunk, jumping from branch to branch like some of the creatures she had seen in the spirit realm. Finally, she dropped down to the lowest sturdy branch that stretched out over the river. She sat on the branch directly over where the river's waters met the sandy dirt of the clearing. 

A slight bounce shook the branch as Kanata dropped down beside Amayeli. Instead of sitting next to his twin, however, he opted to lay down on the branch, stretching out above their older sister who sat on a rock merely an arm's length below. 

They waited there for merely a moment before their mother emerged from the path. All fell silent, even the birds and crickets had ceased their evening chirping in respect as Native America gracefully swept through the clearing, adorned in her ceremonial attire. 

Amayeli wiggled in excitement, bouncing the branch until Kanata's fist met her arm in a request for her to stop. Their mother smoothly came to a stop at the water's edge, surrounded by her children on both sides.

Hopi and Cherokee, their oldest sister and brother, rose to their feet as Native America lifted her arms to reach out on either side. The two walked towards the water, receiving a gentle push from their mother as they passed her--Hopi on the right and Cherokee on the left.

The two siblings waded into the river, pushing onwards until the water reached midway up their chests. They stood several paces away from each other in the cool water, holding their hands out to the mass of magic that had formed overhead. The different hues of magic roiled and writhed in a large cloud as a young body began to form. It strengthened and solidified within the great mass, only to be joined by another as the size of the glistening purple cloud was doubled. Citrus orange wisps joined the golden streaks that decorated the churning purples as the second body grew. 

Gasps broke out among the siblings and Amayeli crawled farther out on the branch, craning her neck to get the best view of her new siblings. Wasn't this like what she had been told Kanata's and her birth was like?

"Wow, another set of twins! I wonder what gave the spirits baby fever?" Anasazi murmured below the older twins as every tribe's eyes were stuck on the forming children. 

It took a painfully long time for the two tiny bodies to finish forming within the swirling cloud of magic. Amayeli found herself unable to sit still, absentmindedly bouncing in place and, by extension, shaking the branch as well. The churning streams of colored magic dissipated to a storm of wisps, putting the children on full display. Everything stilled, even the hyperactive fidgeting of the girl in the tree stopped and the branch on which she sat slowly stilled, its bouncing movements eventually ceasing entirely. Not even the wind blew, leaving the foliage of the trees to hang limply from their branches. 

Once the last wisps of purple, orange, and gold had pulled away from the two tiny bodies, the twins began their descent. All at once, the wind returned, nearly knocking the older twins off of their branch. A glimpse of the other side of the clearing showed Amayeli that her siblings opposite from her were pushed back towards the woods as well. It was as if the clearing had been split in half and the wind had pushed outwards on both sides in its assault on them from the dividing line.

Amayeli quickly twisted her head back in the direction of her new siblings, securing her grip on the tree beneath her. The two children had already made it halfway through their descent. They seemed to have been hit by the wind as well, each of them falling in the opposite direction from their twin. Hopi caught the child with a golden trim on their birth garment and held her above the water, keeping her little sister close to her chest as she brushed her short curly hair out of her face. Cherokee caught the child with an orange trim on their birth garment. He immediately gave a hearty shout and lifted his little brother over his head in celebration before settling him on his shoulders for the ride back to shore.

The two newest additions to the giant family were carried over to their mother and deposited safely by her sides. Native America turned to face the rest of her children, lifting the children and setting them on her lap. She smiled at the new arrivals, gently squeezing them closer as she looked them over. They both had darker skin than the previous set of twins, though not as dark as some of the older states, and appeared to be two years old physically. The girl's eyes were as bright as the greenest emeralds and her hair was dark and curly. 

Native America tapped her daughter's little nose, earning a giggle as bright as the sun. "You, my daughter, will be Mihewi."

She turned to appraise her son with the same loving gaze. His eyes were a dark amber color, and his loosely curled hair an even deeper black than his sister's. He did not have as happy of an expression as his sister, who was exploring the decorations of Native America's clothing while the woman's attention was on her brother. It was a rather watchful look, not expressing either side of the emotional spectrum as he gazed back at his mother. 

"And you," Native America began as she threaded her fingers through her child's hair, "my son, will be Chesmu."

Native America looked up once more to address her older children, "Come meet your new siblings."

With that, Amayeli sprung forward, and the memory faded to black as her shadow advanced on the children.

----------

As soon as she saw the orange wisps of magic join the gold ones in the purple ball of magic, Maria elbowed Diego. "See?" She leaned in, closing the gap between their heads as she muttered to her brother, "I told you I was older."

Diego scoffed, "Yeah, by like a fraction of a second," he grumbled, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. 

"Oh no, there was definitely a several-second difference," Maria pressed.

There was a slight pause before Matthew leaned in from the other side of Diego, "Y'know, I was there, and there was one-hundred-percent at least a thirty-second difference."

Maria gave a low cackle and reached over Diego to give Matthew a fist-bump. The youngest of the three simply slouched farther into his seat, "It still doesn't matter, it's not like the difference between Aimes and Matty, thirty seconds doesn't mean anything." 

"You're just sore you're officially the youngest." Maria dismissed her twin with a smack of his arm, slumping back into her seat with a satisfied smirk.

Spain watched from the opposite side of the table. His gaze switched between the children he had claimed as his own who were in front of him and the images of them when they were born. He had never considered that they had names other than the ones he had given them and distantly wondered if he should call them by those names instead. A grimace twisted his lips as he thought about it, calling them by those names would probably just be awkward for all three of them--besides, he had already forgotten what the old lady in the rift had called them. His names fit them better anyways. 

 

Chapter 20: 20

Maria watched the memories of her and her siblings playing together through the rift with a wistful twist to her features. It had been so long since she had heard their original names, they almost sounded out of place, and she knew without needing to test them out that the names would feel foreign on her tongue. A blanket of shame wrapped around Maria's chest and squeezed, they had gotten so used to the names their fathers--or rather their colonizers, after what had happened in the past few hours there was no considering them family--had given them that their native names, their true names, had fallen out of use. Now, the names their mother had blessed them with were only used occasionally when one of them really wanted the attention of their sibling, or to emphasize whatever they were trying to convey to the other.

Each of them had used so many names in their lifetime, and would likely take several more before their end. It left a bitter taste in Maria's mouth to know that they would always answer to the names given to them by their colonizers--people they couldn't even consider family anymore, if they ever could to begin with. The four of them had so many family members, both blood related and not, the men who had colonized their land could easily be replaced. Maria distantly felt the sour pull at her mouth, but payed it no mind. They were never meant to have parental figures for long, it's just how it had always been. Their mother had been driven to her grave, their father figures had proven themselves to be horrible men, even the Nordics had--... wait. Now that Maria thought about it, the Nordics had thought Amel--Amayeli and Kanata were gone for good. From the sounds of it, they hadn't knowingly left her older siblings. 

A glance to her right showed Maria the stony face of Sweden, though his features had more of a curve to them than usual. She couldn't tell exactly what emotion was being displayed, but he looked almost like Amelia did in those rare moments before she quietly broke down. The glazed tracks of half-dried tears down his face only solidified her assumption. 

Finland had been crying earlier too, she had not looked from the rift to watch but she had heard his choked sobs all too well. The two her older siblings had once called parents did seem to genuinely care about them. Maria couldn't help but wonder what would happen after this was all over, maybe by losing three family members they would gain five more. That would be perfectly fine with Maria, but she couldn't shake the notion that it might cause Amelia even more pain. Matthew had dealt with the knowledge of their old family rather gracefully, all things considered, but Amelia had never been one to manage emotions well.  

She could see her older sister through the rift, fiery red hair obscuring her face--no longer contained by her usual hair tie. Maria knew her siblings well, and the loose curls were unsuccessful at hiding Amelia's expression from her little sister. It was clear to her that her big sister was lost in a sea of her own thoughts--and that they were mostly unpleasant. Her eyes absently trailed after the images of the four of them as the little versions of Matthew and herself taught the younger twins elemental magic. The usually blue orbs were a bloody shade of red; Maria had noticed the color change when her sister first opened her eyes inside of the pocket dimension and it seemed that Amelia had not calmed down enough for her irises to return to a cerulean hue. Amelia's body language screamed discomfort, and it pained Maria and her brothers that none of them could do anything to help their older sister. 

Sweden and Finland were not as familiar with how their daughter expressed herself as they had once been, but as they sat there looking up at her motionless figure, they couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was wrong. The way her arms tightly wrapped around her chest as she stood, curled into herself with fingertips digging into her skin, conveyed the malaise churning in her stomach to her former parents. Finland leaned over to whisper to Norway for what was probably the third time since they had learned of Amelia's former identity. 

"Are you certain that there's no way to get her out of there?" Finland asked, a bit of desperation bubbling up from his chest to be carried in his voice.

"I told you before, we made this spell in a hurry, there are problems with it. It was never even meant to be used on a personification in the first place, so I don't know how we would even go about getting her out." Norway whispered, just as quietly as Finland's murmured question. He did not turn to face his brother-in-law, instead keeping his eyes trained on the floating rift with a stare as blank as his expression.

"Lukas, she's your niece, my daughter, how can you just sit by and watch when she's being forced to relive so much? Especially when parts of it are bound to be traumatic--have already been traumatic. There might be memories shown that she's been trying to forget ever since they happened, and you're just going to watch?" Finland's voice raised ever so slightly, but was still confined to the space between his mouth and Norway's ear. The Finn could not believe that the other man was content to just sit by and watch as the child he had loved like a daughter, just as Finland had, was trapped as memories were pulled out of her mind and displayed for all to see. He was so caught up in his emotions, in fact, that he didn't notice the vein pulsing visibly on Norway's temple.

"I don't have a choice, Fin!" Norway turned to Finland for the first time, struggling to keep his voice low. "We don't have a choice. You weren't there when we took a human out of this spell early. We shouldn't have tried in the first place, and when he came out his mind was destroyed. No one was very concerned since he was a war criminal, but he had to spend the rest of his life drooling in a mental ward. I don't know what would happen if we tried to pull her out."

"Ah... I see," was all the Fin could force out. He immediately stopped pushing the other man, knowing now that he wouldn't want them to pull her out even if they were willing to. It did, however, bring up a big question in his mind. Why? Why would they have even created a spell with this many problems? They had to know how often England's spells backfired on him, why hadn't they fixed the bugs in this spell, regardless of if it would be used again? Finland spared a glance back at Norway. He had turned to the rift again, watching the four New World siblings exploring their lands, but his face was still pulled taut by unnamed emotions. No, he would not ask Norway, not now at least, maybe when this was all finally over. 

Diego moved to check his watch, grimacing at what he saw. They had been sitting here for three hours already, three hours! They hadn't even gotten through Amelia's early childhood yet! At this rate they would be here for days! He stifled a groan and impatiently threw his head back onto a headrest that wasn't there. A comforting pat on his arm came from his other, though he would never admit it, older sister. He didn't move to look at her, instead flailing his hand around until it met his sister's own. It was childish, he knew, holding his twin's hand like a little boy in need of comfort, but he really didn't give a shit. Anyone who so much as commented about it would be a dead man at this point, he was so sick of these people. 

A loud crash of thunder rumbled throughout the room. Matthew instinctively turned to see out of the meeting room's windows before he realized the sound hadn't come from outside. Looking back to the rift, he saw colors had once again filled the floating rectangle. This time it showed the four of them taking shelter in a small cave while a storm raged outside.

----------

The older twins still looked to be around seven, while the younger twins appeared to have aged a year to make them three.  Mihewi and Chesmu sat at the back of the small shelter, playing with Kanata in the dirt while Amayeli remained closer to the cave's entrance, staring out at the storm.

"Come on, Ama, play with us!" Little Mihewi called out to her older sister. There was an assortment of pebbles at the girls feet. The three children appeared to be playing a game with the stones and boundary lines drawn in the dirt.

"Yeah, Ama, we're safe here, there's no reason to stand watch," Kanata chimed in, beckoning for his twin to join them. 

Amayeli glanced back at her siblings, but soon turned back to watch the rain beat against the trees. "Sorry, but... I'd rather watch out just in case. We are pretty far from the village, after all."

That drew out whines and groans from the other children, "Oh, come on, Ama!" Kanata wasn't going to take no for an answer. "I get that you're worried about the palefaces, but they haven't been spotted anywhere near this far inland! There's nothing to worry about. Besides, didn't you say that you had seen these palefaces and they were just people in funny clothes?"

"Oh, oh! You did?" Mihewi bounced in place, her attention immediately pulled away from the game. 

"What were they like?" Chesmu asked, his curiosity peaked as well. 

Finally, Amayeli turned back to look at her siblings, shifting to sit back against the cave wall. "Well, they were pale, but not quite as pale as I expected. They... they weren't what I had expected and... well, I don't like it, I don't like them. The palefaces shouldn't be intruding on your lands." She addressed the younger twins. All four of them had been aware of the exploration of their lands by the palefaces, but the strangers just kept pushing their boundaries. "And I have every right to be worried, Kanata, have you not heard the stories of the palefaces' conquests?" 

Her twin shrugged and leaned back, "Well, yeah. I'm not saying we should go over and hang around them or anything. I just meant that they're not close enough to be a danger."

"But they keep getting closer," Amayeli pointed out.

As if to punctuate her point, a sharp bang split through the forest air. Immediately, the children went still and silent, only for two more loud bursts of power to crack like the whips of powerful spirits in the distance. 

Mihewi was the first to nervously break the silence that remained between the siblings, "That thunder sounded weird." She said as she began to bite her knuckles.

"That wasn't thunder," the older twins said in unison. Kanata crawled closer to his twin to peer outside of their shelter, the lack of difference in scenery only serving to disturb him further.

"Do you smell that?" Amayeli whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding rain. An acrid scent had made its way to her nose, causing her to scrunch up her face in displeasure.

Chesmu was the first to perk up, "Yeah, it smells like smoke from a fire."

"Yeah... but not quite," Kanata agreed with a slow nod. 

Steadily, a sound that did not quite align with the constant, rhythmic thrum of raindrops began to grow in volume. Amayeli narrowed her eyes, listening intently until she finally realized what the noises were:

Footsteps.

"Someone's coming!" The oldest girl whisper-shouted to the rest of her siblings. She pulled Mihewi into her arms to carry her out of the cave, Kanata following closely behind with Chesmu. They emerged into the open, swiftly fleeing their former shelter and pelted with cool raindrops all the way. 

"Where are we going?" Chesmu asked, sounding surprised  at the sudden actions of the older twins. 

"Back to the village," came Kanata's hushed reply.

"But what about the storm?" Mihewi squeaked, her grip on her sister's clothing tightening.

"We'll be fine, it's not too far to go if we run," Amayeli murmured, picking up the pace. She knew Mihewi and Kanata were afraid of storms, especially ones as loud as this one. Kanata's face was visibly pinched up in fear, but he followed his sister. They both knew that meeting the palefaces like this was a bad idea, they had heard far too many horror stories about the foreign explorers of the south to be alone with them--especially so far away from their older siblings. 

The four darted through the forest like wet squirrels, completely drenched by the rain. At last, when they had finally run out of breath, the edge of the village was visible past the rainy fog. Amayeli abruptly set Mihewi down onto the muddy ground, "Go! I'll be back soon." 

"But--" Mihewi tried to protest, emerald eyes going wide. 

"Just go! I want to scout them out, I won't get too close, I promise!" Amayeli ordered her little sister, already moving back in the direction they came from. "And don't let Kanata come after me! I'm counting on you, kid!" She yelled the afterthought over her shoulder, seeing the little girl's form running towards the village as a shout of confirmation reached the older girl's ears.

With that, Amayeli took to the trees. Her pace was slower than it had been on the ground, but she didn't want to slip on the wet branches. Despite this, she stayed within the thick foliage, there was absolutely no way she would be caught by those palefaces where they could reach her.

Eventually, the sounds of heavy feet in mud and metal cutting through plants grew louder. Amayeli's pace slowed to silently creep up on the figures below. There were six men standing in the mud, with the one at the front hacking away at the leaves and branches blocking their path. The little girl thought his weapon looked funny, long and thin like a metal blade of grass. 

"Ack, they're getting farther away," the man behind the one cutting their path spoke in irritation. Amayeli listened closely, focusing as he spoke in a foreign tongue. A smirk grew on her lips, her mother had prepared them for this meeting, as one-sided as it was.

The green-eyed man urged the pathfinder forward, his waterlogged brown hair sticking to his barely tanned skin. He looked upset, like he had lost something.

"And tell me again how, exactly, you know this, Antonio?" Another man spoke up. Though he was dressed in brighter fabrics and far more gold, clearly someone with high status, he did not seem to be the leader of the group. The green-eyed man, Antonio, gave a few more orders to the pathfinder before addressing the man beside him. 

"It's this feeling I get when the personification of the colony is near. I can use it to find them, it's how I found the kids in my other Indian colonies. It's like God is calling me to them." Antonio explained with a few waves of his hands. "But it's getting fainter now, the child must be moving away from us."

Amayeli had to restrain herself from scoffing. That was a magical tie between him and her siblings as bound personifications, it had nothing to do with his "God". The little girl found the idea insulting to the man's connection with her beloved siblings. Regardless, she ignored it for the time being and merely continued to match their progress through the trees.

"Perhaps it is God's way of telling you to leave this wilderness," the fancy man continued with a sniff. "We never should have gone this far into the Indies to begin with, there's nothing of value here."

"Are you blind?!" Antonio raised his voice in disbelief, "We have already gotten so much from this land, and you want to stop?" He huffed, turning away from the man to focus instead on the pathfinder's progress, "Tch, besides, God wouldn't have shown the child to me at all if he did not want me to find them."

"Not to interrupt, Señores, but it is getting dark, it would be wise to take shelter."

Both men turned to look at the man behind them, though the fancy man's look was more of a glare. This man was clearly not of any status, Amayeli noticed, as he carried packs and wore simple clothes. 

Antonio stopped, signaling the rest of the group to do the same, "Very well, there was a cave not too far back, we will rest there for the night." The other men agreed easily and followed as the pathfinder led them back to the cave Amayeli had taken shelter in barely twenty minutes ago.

----------

Once the conversation between the conquistadores had ended, something clicked in Japan's mind. It made his brain itch uncomfortably with confusion. He did not want to voice his confusion, as he shouldn't be here in the first place, but the urge remained. Thankfully, it seemed he wasn't the only one in the room with the question.

"Wait a second," Romano started, his brows knitting together in confusion, "why-a was the Spanish translated by-a the subtitles, I thought it-a only translated what she understands. How did she-a know Spanish back then?" 

Maria rubbed her temples, "The Spanish had been in the area for a few years by that point, and some people from nearby tribes had learned enough to understand and speak to them. Our mother had made sure they taught us too, it was actually the reason all four of us were down in southern Mexico--or what is now southern Mexico."

"She must 'ave been a very smart woman." France put a finger to his chin, "Now zhat I think about it, I don't remember much of a language barrier when we met Matthew or Amelia either." 

"Yeah," Maria muttered, "she liked being prepared like that."

Matthew hummed in agreement, memories of learning Spanish, English, and French surfacing in his mind. There had been quite a bit of difficulty at first, especially since the people they learned from had oftentimes only recently learned the language themselves. French had clicked with him rather quickly, but he had struggled with English and Spanish. He remembered Amelia helping him with both and making things so much easier to understand with the funny word-association tricks she made up. She had always had a passion for languages.

 

Chapter 21: 21

"You must go and meet with them, the personification of Spain has been looking for you"

Those words escaped the rift before any color could, a ghostly whisper from a woman long dead.

----------

"What!? But-but mother!" Chesmu protested, immediately clinging to Kanata and Amayeli. Mihewi did the same, burying her face in her older sister's side. 

The older woman sighed, turning her head to look out of the entrance to their shelter. Rain no longer pelted down onto the thatched roof above them. When she turned back to her children, there was a pinched look on her face. "I have spoken with the embodiment of Spain, and he wishes to take you with him."

"But mother--!" Amayeli started, only to be silenced by her mother's raised hand. 

Her hand remained where it was held, keeping her children from protesting. "There will be no arguments, you were not born to represent us, you are destined to have your own people. This is where Chesmu and Mihewi's journeys begin, with Spain. It has been decided." Native America's hardened gaze rested on each of her children individually, taking in their expressions of pain and sorrow. She softened--ever so slightly, "However, Kanata and Amayeli, you may accompany your siblings to the Spanish settlement, so long as you stay hidden."

When the next memory faded in, the four siblings were walking along a barely-worn path. A solemn air hung heavily around them as they went, clutching desperately to familiar hands. The children's pace was slow, and their feet dragged all the heavier once the sounds of Spanish voices began to trickle past the forest's foliage. 

Sounds of the settlement were loud and leaves fluttered with the passing of a group of men. All four children were halted behind the cover of a few trees and some tall grass. "I don't want to go," Mihewi's soft sobs renewed themselves as she hugged Kanata's arm close. Amayeli's trained, Native America-like expression faltered at that. She tried to give her sister some reassuring words, but nothing left her mouth. Instead, she held Chesmu's hand tighter, resting her free hand on his head as Kanata pulled Mihewi in for a real hug. 

The quiet sobs from both Mihewi and Kanata eventually tapered off  into the pained silence between the four. Both twins knew what had to be done, as they couldn't disobey their mother. Small hands hesitantly slipped out from slightly larger ones as the younger two took a step towards the settlement. Finally, Amayeli forced her voice to work, "I... I guess this is it, I love you both," she croaked.

Another sob tore through the air, but this time it wasn't Mihewi's. Amayeli stumbled slightly when a smaller body crashed into her. She immediately hugged Chesmu close as he broke down into sobs. "Shhh, it's alright," they sank to their knees in the grass, Amayeli desperately trying to find the right words as she rubbed her baby brother's back. "It's not like we'll never see each other again, right? All Kanata and I have to do is-is travel south... we'd... we'd walk here all the way from Inupaiq's lands if we had to!" Mihewi curled up into her side as she spoke, her tears renewed. 

Chesmu just sobbed harder, the comforting touches from all three of his siblings as they hugged him not appearing to help. "B-but mother said he wanted to-to take us on his boat!" He cried, clutching onto his sister, "Wh-What if we can't get back?"

"We'll find you," Amayeli looked up to Kanata for confirmation as her own tears began to slip from her eyes. Kanata nodded in agreement with her, making an affirmative noise in his throat as he did so. "It-it might take a while, but we're immortal, we'll have all the time in the world together when we grow up." She promised, hugging both of the younger twins close as her twin hugged them from the other side.

----------

The sight of the New World siblings' tearful goodbye struck a chord with every nation in the room. Many were reminded of their own family members, blood related and otherwise. While nations were generally considered solitary beings, even the most introverted of them could only take isolation from their own kind for so long. It simply wasn't healthy, especially when that isolation kept them from those they considered family. 

With memories of their own experiences invoked by the scene within the rift, the nations found that they could empathize with the four siblings. It wasn't something that happened often, especially not with politics they way they were, but in that moment all of them were truly connected by that common thread of shared misery. 

Diego knew this, but he still chose to ignore it. His sister had been right about them finding each other again, but she had also been right about it taking time. It had taken so horribly long for them to find each other, broken and bruised in more ways than one. Then it had taken even more time for them to be siblings again after everything that had happened. He blamed this all on Spain, it was France and England's faults as well, but he saw Spain as the main perpetrator. If Spain had just left them the fuck alone he could have stayed with his older siblings. Maybe he wouldn't have had to fight a war on the opposite side as his big sisters if Spain had stayed away. That thought tugged at the moisture in his eyes, but he refused to cry. He was not going to mirror the actions of his much younger self, he wouldn't allow it.

The following memories were brief. They showed the older twins playing together, experimenting with their magic as it continued to grow. There was a difference between these memories and the previous montage that few noticed. Canada recognized it as the lack of spark in his and his sister's actions. Their playfulness was still there, as was their usual banter, but there was something clearly missing--a special brand of joy that had left with the younger twins.

Memories continued to play, short and sweet, until little Kanata was no longer a character in the scenes. A few of such memories played, mostly consisting of Amayeli being taught how to hunt lower-level monsters and fine-tune her elemental magic, before a question arose from the unwilling audience. 

"Why isn't Canada in the memories anymore?" China wondered aloud with a hand on his chin. 

For a moment, it seemed as if there would be no answer. A body shifting in their chair soon voiced a response, "About... about thirty years or so after Maria and Diego left with Spain, I was sent to live up with our siblings further north. We didn't see each other much for a while after that." Matthew's quiet voice carried throughout the room, bringing forth even quieter noises of acknowledgement and sympathy from the others.

----------

"You remember what that traveler taught you, right Ama?" One of Amayeli's siblings asked while the two of them sat in a tree. She remembered the traveler and, unfortunately, she had yet to forget any of the foreign words that felt so wrong on her tongue.

The little girl nodded, her now predominantly red hair bouncing in agreement, but her face remained scrunched up. It was as if the settlers emitted a foul odor she wanted no part of as she looked over at the new settlement in the distance. 

"Come on, Ama, you know you have to go down and meet him," her sister reminded her. "Mother ordered it. He has been looking for you for weeks now, he told us that it is a bad omen for a personification to not represent a colony." 

"Good," came the child's response, "Maybe then they'll leave."

A sigh came from the older girl beside her, "Ama, you have to go. Either you walk over to him now, or we can go back to the village and mother will take you to the colony by force." The annoyed look on the teen's face softened, "I'm sorry, Ama, really I am, but there's no way around it."

Amayeli's head remained down, her gaze trained on the ground below. 

"Hey, it's not like you'll be stuck there forever, I'm sure you'll be able to visit." The older girl soothed as she gently rubbed her little sister's back.

"Promise?"

There was a short pause before a soothing answer came, "I promise, Ama."

The small girl nodded slowly, her gaze finally lifting enough to watch the man who had been pacing by the tree line since before they arrived. He didn't look mean, she didn't think, though she couldn't help the heavy weight of disappointment that made itself known in her gut. His bushy eyebrows looked weird, almost funnily so, and his blonde hair was a frazzled mess, no matter how many times he smoothed it back with his hands. Clearly he wasn't used to the climate or lifestyle in this land--in her land, she reminded herself.

With a long sigh, she finally jumped down from the tree branch she had been perched on. She didn't bother with being quiet, and it showed. The blonde jerked his head in Amayeli's direction upon hearing her thudding landing. 

"Hello?-er, uh, Kwey?" He called out, the Algonquin word for hello sounding grotesque on his paleface tongue. "Kawey? Keway? uhm," the blonde continued to mutter to himself, despite having gotten the word right the first time--minus his accent, which grated against Amayeli's ears.

Amayeli quickly shook the grimace from her face. No, she had to at least appear friendly, it wasn't his fault that she had to leave as the spirits had prophesized. Well... maybe it was, but nothing good could come out of conflict with this man, just more blood. Amayeli found she was becoming quite tired of bloodshed these past few years, the conflicts with the various clans of palefaces were becoming tiresome. At least these palefaces had been friendly so far. 

The rustling of leaves and grass announced her presence before she was even partially visible to the man. As expected, the blonde quickly spotted her and moved to greet the small child as she emerged from the woods. 

"Ah! Hello, love, I have been looking for you for some time. You're quite the sneaky little one, aren't you?" The blonde remarked with a soft smile, crouching down to be near her height.

"...Hello," she responded, not sure what else to say. For a brief moment, she wanted to cringe, the English word felt slimy in her mouth, how did these people deal with speaking this language all the time? 

Her response seemed to satisfy the paleface regardless. He gave a pleased hum before gesturing to himself, "My name is Arthur, I am the personification of the Great English Empire. And you are? What is your name?" Arthur gestured to Amayeli in one swift motion. The girl noticed he had spoken more slowly this time. While it was appreciated, as she was still learning his language, she puffed herself up a bit in indignance. She had been able to understand him perfectly fine before, it had just taken her a moment to fully translate the entire sentence in her head. 

"My name is Amayeli, I am the personification of... this colony of Roanoke," her voice faltered as she announced her title, the reality of the situation finally hitting her. She was no longer the personification of the central tribes, she represented these English people who settled on Roanoke island. The girl forced herself past this, she could ruminate later, and spoke with confidence and power, like her eldest siblings had taught her. She even mimicked the paleface's accent to prove to him she belonged--after all, if she couldn't belong with her own family, she had to belong somewhere, right? 

Arthur's thick brows jerked upwards in tandem with the corners of his mouth, "Well then, you speak English very well, love."

Amayeli perked up even more at the praise, grinning slightly at him as Arthur's pleasant disposition wore away at her wariness for the stranger. 

He held out his hand for her to take as he got to his feet, "Come, I have some things to show you." 

The child's hesitance washed away completely as she took his hand. She followed him as he guided her to the clearly temporary settlement.

"You know, you look quite a bit like my brother and sister with that red hair of yours, " Arthur commented. "Though, maybe more like Alastair, he's a bit more on the uh, shall we say, wild side? Yes, but of course a young lady like you will no doubt be much prettier than that old brute could ever be." He seemed to be talking more to himself than Amayeli, but she didn't mind and listened to him anyways. This Alastair person sounded like fun. Their joined hands swung playfully as the two neared the settlement and the ship floating close to the shore.

---------------

"Damn, tea bastard, I can-a barely tell it's you," Romano scowled. 

There were some mutters of agreement while England merely allowed a sour look to overtake his face once more. Things had been different back then, she had been his first colony. Well, no, that wasn't true, he'd had colonies in Ireland well before he began exploring the New World. It wasn't the same though, Ireland had been older than Arthur when he had began colonizing his lands, Amelia had been the first personification to be entrusted to him. She was the first personification child he had cared for, and he had made a few mistakes, he would admit that. Amelia had left him, however, she had taken all he had done for her for granted and broken away as if he had meant nothing. There was no reason to keep up the charade of being family now--there hadn't been for a long time.

 

Chapter 22: 22.

Salty seas and the squealing of a child marked the beginning of the next memory. A little, redheaded girl was jumping up and down on the shoreline and waving at an approaching boat carrying people from one of the large ships anchored a distance from the beach.

"Arthur! Arthur!" The girl shouted to the boat as she bounced. She could see the distinctive blond hair waving slightly in the breeze. There was the splashing of wet footsteps before the child was fully immersed, swimming towards the boat in her impatience.  It didn't take long for the energetic girl to reach the boat, expertly avoiding being hit by any paddles as she maneuvered to pop up right beside Arthur. 

"Good lord, Amelia!" He exclaimed, immediately pulling her out of the cold waters and into the boat. Her antics seemed to amuse his companions, if the hearty laughter was anything to go by. Arthur, however, was not as pleased. "You're going to get yourself sick, love," the blonde insisted as he wrapped her up in his coat. 

Amelia merely giggled, "Nuh-uh, I do these things all the time!"

---------------

Finland's brows furrowed as he studied the rift, "England, those voyages took months, did you just leave her in unsettled land while you sailed back over to Europe?" The Fin wasn't yelling, in fact, he hadn't raised his voice a bit, instead keeping it carefully steady while he stared the other down. Somehow that was more frightening. 

England merely huffed and crossed his arms, "Well I couldn't just take a small, native child back to England with me! Besides, it's bad to take a personification away from their lands for too long when they're that young, though I admit I'd thought she was younger than she really was."

"It never hurt any of my colonies," Spain commented idly as he messed with a pen--a pen that England recognized to be his. 

"Well there was no way for me to know that, now was there? Give me that!" England snapped back, snatching his pen from the Spaniard's grasp.

Tino sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before turning to Matthew, his gaze having lessened greatly in intensity. The Canadian only shrugged, "I don't know what she did when he left, I was up with the northern tribes until France came to colonize my land." 

Another sigh came from the Finnish man as he patted Matthew's shoulder reassuringly. "Well, she looks healthy, I suppose that's at least some good news." He didn't see Diego stifle a snort. 

---------------
When the boat finally reached the shore, Amelia quickly welcomed Manteo and Wanchese back from their trip to England. The two were men from a local tribe who had joined Arthur on his trip across the great waters. Amelia immediately flooded them with questions about what the other lands had looked like as she hung from Arthur's arm. She had met people in the spirit realm who had described the lands of England, but they had all died quite some time ago. As was typical with her, she was beyond elated to hear what the modern lands were like from someone who shared her perspective.

The small group talked for a few minutes, retelling tales of their adventure. As Arthur was finishing telling Amelia about the storm they had encountered on their journey back to Roanoke, almost on cue, a man from the ship jogged over to them. 

"Sir!" He called as he came to a stop by Arthur's side, "I have word on the state of the Tyger."

"Alright, out with it then," Arthur prompted the man with an impatient hand gesture. 

"Seawater got past the hull when it ran aground. Some of the foodstuffs and supplies were spoiled, we will have to make a return trip sooner than expected to get enough to last." His report was short, but hardly sweet. 

Arthur nodded gravely, "Very well, I shall talk to Grenville about this before the end of the day, but not right now. For the time being we shall set up camp as planned."  

The memory faded into the next quickly. Morning rays of sunlight illuminated the world, making the plants appear to glow in the gorgeous lighting. Amelia was already shimmying out of the bedding that held her captive. 

Kicking the last of the blanket off of her legs, she leapt up from her shabby cot and ran across the inside of the small shack to another. "Arthur, Arthur, the sky is waking!" She called to the cot. As she approached, however, her expression fell. The cot was empty and made, its brown blanket placed neatly over the hay-stuffed bag of a mattress. A small noise came from the back of the girl's throat before she burst from the hastily-built shack and back into the outdoors. 

Her eyes scanned the surrounding shacks and sleeping forms around the previous night's fire. Seeing no sign of the blonde, she took to running the perimeter of the camp and calling his name as she continued to search. He wasn't by the stump where they cut wood, or the hole dug to relieve oneself over, he wasn't even by the river. Thoroughly stumped, she returned to the cluster of shacks, brows furrowed in confusion. Had he gone hunting? No, he hadn't said anything about that the previous evening, and his stuff was all--

Wait.

When she reached back inside her memory, she realized the only thing on Arthur's side of the shack had been the bed. All of his things were gone. 

"Amelia?" A rough voice sounded from behind her, "What are you yelling about, girl?"

She recognized Lane's voice, he was one of the people Arthur had put in charge. Turning to face him, she decided he might know where Arthur and his stuff had gone, "Where is Arthur?"

The man grimaced, "He's gone, child, 'e went with Grenville ta get more supplies since a bunch got ruined."

"...Oh," the disappointment in the little girl's tone was palpable as her shoulders slumped. 

"What? Didn'e tell ye?" Lane's brows furrowed. A slow shake of the head was all he received in response. Sighing heavily, he ran a hand down his face, grumbling under his breath, "C'mon, girl, let's find something to eat." His hand settled atop her messy mop of hair and he guided them both further into the camp as the memory faded out.

---------------

The next memory consisted of Amelia trying to show the settlers how to find what edible plants remained in the late season. Her attempts were merely brushed aside in favor of anger at the natives as trade relations began to sour. Very little of this caught the attention of the nations beyond the rift, however, as many of them had also taken to anger upon witnessing the previous memory. 

"Jou left?! Just like zhat?!" Prussia roared, his face tinging red. "She vas a little girl, and jou left her in a settlement of only men?! Vithout telling her first? No goodbye, no nothing?" Gilbert spat at the Englishman. He had known England had been a piss poor father, it had been obvious ever since he first started communicating with his now dear friend, but this? Prussia had at least expected him to have enough decency to not leave her with a crew of rough-looking men, completely alone. 

England took on a look of indignance at the outburst, "I don't like what you are implying, Prussia. I vouched for each of those men myself, they wouldn't hurt her!" 

"Wouldn't or didn't?" The albino snapped back. 

"Didn't, of course! I would have known otherwise!" England snarled.

"Would ya?" Scotland nearly burst out laughing, "You didn'ae  even know when she was in the castle when ya finally took 'er home! You wouldn't have known if jack shite happened to 'her!"

"They were good men!" The brit continued to defend his former actions.

"Even if they were, you still left a young child completely alone without even giving her a heads up! Can't you see she was upset by not being able to find you? She had gotten attached to you--how that happened I have no clue--and then you just up and abandoned her. And I know for damn sure this wasn't the last time either." Denmark joined in for Finland, who was busy trying to restrain himself from strangling the blonde across the table.

England spluttered a bit before finally coming up with an argument, "You all are acting like she was just formed when the settlement had been established. We have been shown that she was much older than that despite how she looked!"

"Ai Mio Dios!" An exasperated shout came from Diego, and England met his rage-filled eyes for the first time since the younger had beat him. "I don't believe this! You know how nations age! It doesn't matter how long we have been on the earth, we have the same mental and emotional maturity as our physical age. She was still seven! And even if that wasn't how it worked, you didn't know that at the time! You still willingly abandoned my sister, a small child!" Tugs on Diego's arm slowly pulled him down into his seat once more as his sister tried to get him to cool down. 

There was no response from the elder nation, merely another huff as he crossed his arms defensively. Much to his fortune, yelling from the rift drew everyone's attention away from him.

----------------

"How could you?! You killed Chief Wingina!" The small girl shouted in horror. 

"Quiet, girl!" A male voice growled back, "They would have killed us first had I not acted swiftly. You heard Manteo's warning, use your head you stupid child!"

Tears brimmed in her eyes but her face was contorted  with anger, not melancholy, "But now they will come for you, Lane! They will make you pay for their Chief's death!"

"Then it's a good thing we're setting sail at dawn." Lane retorted as he brushed her off, walking past the child and towards one of the huts.

Amelia's face just contorted more, "What?! Then why would you lead that raid if you are going to leave? They would have only raided empty huts!"

"You will understand when you're older. Now, stay there, we can't have a dirty savage on board with us." The words drifted over Lane's shoulder to pierce through her as the memory faded out.

Next, there were two brief memories of Amelia hunting and preparing a meal inside the mouth of a medium-sized cavern. Then a third memory faded in, this time showing the child weaving a basket in the crook of a tree's towering branches. 

Before long, shouts could be heard blasting through the vegetation. Amelia's head shot up, immediately recognizing the voice and the paleface it belonged to. She quickly deposited her work by her shelter before taking off through the trees. There was a spark of hope in her chest as she approached the abandoned settlement. 

"Ah, there ya are, lass," Grensville, the ship captain called out once Amelia emerged from the trees. "Where did are the others?"

Amelia's pace slowed to a halt, "They left, Lane led a raid on Chief Wingina's tribe and killed the Chief because they wouldn't trade their food."

A mere "Hmph," was all that Grensville replied with. Amelia fidgeted nervously in the quiet, watching multiple men set about reviving the small settlement, none of whom were the blonde she was looking for. 

"Where is he?" 

"Hm?" Grenville startled slightly, having been brought out of his thoughts.

"Arthur, where is he? Is he coming back?" Amelia's fingers twisted around each other as she forced herself to look the taller man in the face. It had been a while since she had talked to anyone, she had forgotten how difficult it could be. The last person she had spoken to was her older sister, who had only visited briefly to tell her of her mother's order for her siblings to not make contact with her. It made sense to the girl, after all, she was no longer of the same people as her mother or siblings--but it still hurt. Regardless, she had adapted to the new situation, though she was having a bit of trouble reversing those adaptations at the moment. 

"He's no' here, lass. He got stuck back in England dealing with some nasty business with the Spanish. They say they're going to war. Don't worry, though, he'll be back." With that, the man turned and led her to the hut most of the men were fixing up. They chopped wood and crafted nails from the trees in a practiced rhythm.

"I only brought 15 men, because I thought Lane hadn't turned tail like a coward, but it should be enough people to last. We got 2 years of food and supplies in the ship waiting to be brought over, without any seawater this time." Grenville chuckled at his little joke as the memory faded out. 

The next memory showed Amelia watching as Grenville and his crew set sail back to England. Once they were but a speck on the horizon, she turned with a heavy sigh and trudged back to the, now much smaller, settlement. She could hear the snickers of the men as she approached, but her seven-year-old frame couldn't see over the fence around the settlement to get a peek at what they were doing that was so funny. 

Amelia entered through the wobbly gate, latching it behind her. The snickers had stopped, so she turned around only to find all 15 men staring at her with strange expressions. Not sure what else to do, she waved slowly at the gathering.

That got a reaction, though not one the child particularly enjoyed. A harsh huff came from a man leaning against what she had been told was a whiskey barrel. He came towards her with large strides and a disgusted look on his face. She didn't like it, something inside her gut was screaming at her to leave, but as the man came closer all she could manage was to press up against the fence, hoping it would fall over after it's hasty construction. Unfortunately,  the fence held strong against her meager weight.

"Tch, Lane left, huh? Right." The man spoke with just as much disdain in his voice as there was displayed on his face. "I'd bet my last shilling you sold him out to the Indians, then burned his ship after they dragged him and the others away." He crept closer and closer, a sour smell on his breath. 

"Hey, leave 'er be, Robby, come have a drink," another man called from the gathering around the evening fire. 

Yes, Amelia thought, go over there you stupid, smelly man.

Alas, the man merely scoffed at the other's nonchalance, "Are ya mad? She's a savage, can't you see her skin? She'll sell us out too, their kind will do anything to sabotage us! It doesn't matter if she's only a half-breed." He snarled, smacking her head and grabbing a fistful of her flaming red hair. 

"Calm down, ya can't get rid of her, we got orders from the very top to leave her be, so leave her be." A third man called over as he lit a pipe, though his tone was far more uncaring than the demanding words he spoke. 

"Ha! Who said anything about killing the brat?" The first man turned to his group, keeping the fiery strands in his grasp. "Nah, we just need to teach her to stay loyal, that's all." The cruel grin stretched across the man's greasy face chilled Amelia to her bones. This was not good, she needed to run, but she couldn't move, her feet were frozen to the dirt.

In a flash, icy cold fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. A shriek escaped her when her toes could no longer feel the grainy dirt and her back scraped against the bark of the branches tied to make the fence behind her. Another hand touched her elsewhere, but she barely felt it, all that registered was the bony ice around her neck, all but stopping her breathing. Cold blue eyes bored into her, drinking up her fear before glancing away. 

It was the sudden lack of eye contact that freed her. The piercing blue snowstorms no longer froze her, keeping her trapped in place. Her own hands locked around the man's, like she figures they should have as soon as she felt its chilled grip. Faintly, she felt her magic respond to her subconscious call, as her own body began to cool as well, plunging the both of them into a deep freeze. Ice quickly climbed up the man's arm, freezing his flesh solid and spreading inwards until all blood, bone, muscle, and fat available was frozen solid. He tried to react, quickly trying to remove his hands from her tanned skin, but the fingers around Amelia's throat would not budge, even as he took a step back from the fence. A scream escaped him, but the ice spread quickly, silencing him before another could reach his throat.

A moment passed as Amelia struggled to get down, breaking the man's fingers off to release his grip from her neck. Once she had dropped back to the ground, she could finally see the expressions of the others from around the icy statue. Terror was a common theme among them, and Amelia felt the need to run again. Her shivering form shifted from foot to foot, eyeing them warily. One of the men picked up a sturdy farm tool, setting off a chain reaction in the remaining settlers. It also triggered Amelia's fight or flight, and she immediately lunged for the gate, upon seeing the men take up arms. She flung the door open, slamming it into the ice in human form and sending frozen fragments cascading down onto the dirt. 

Unfortunately for Amelia, the men had gotten a head start on her and her freezing body temperature wasn't helping her speed. She was caught before she made it to the tree line of the forest. The first man made the mistake of grabbing her, and suffered the same fate as his companion, though much quicker this time. Still, it had slowed her down, and by the time she had escaped from his now icy grip the remaining settlers were actively encircling her. Turning in a circle, she saw she was completely surrounded. 

One man deemed it necessary to roughly and repeatedly poke her with the garden hoe in his hands. It only further agitated the small girl as she looked for an opening in the large circle. The men shouted to each other all the while, trying to figure out if she could be killed and how. 

Tears fought their way past Amelia's eyes, rolling down her cheeks despite her best efforts to keep them contained. With every passing second the pressure inside her chest built, threatening to tear her apart if she didn't find a way out, away from these awful people. The one who had taken a branch from the bonfire kept waving it at her, shouting something about a demon. It didn't help, to say the least, only making the building pressure leap into her throat every time. 

When the shouting came to a temporary lull, a searing pain erupted in Amelia's back and drew out a scream. She leaped to the side, away from whatever had caused it, only for the man with the fire to shove his flames towards her. Amelia held up her arms to protect her face from the searing heat as the dancing lights ate into her flesh with their deceptively beautiful light. Falling to the ground, Amelia quickly turned around, surveying each of the men. She stopped at the one holding a dagger dripping with blood. The slash across her back still screamed at her, and she realized these men were going to kill her. It didn't matter what they had said earlier, they wanted her life in return for the ones she had taken. 

Another man lunged at her, and the dam finally broke. The pressure in her chest had become unbearable, and she released it in one, freezing burst. Icy magic, tinted with red light, erupted from her tiny body in all directions. It froze each and every last one of the wicked men where they stood. As her sobs began to make themselves heard, she quickly crawled out of the circle, running to her little cave in the woods where she promptly collapsed in a pile of tears as she inspected the slash on her back.

---------------

"...oh, Dio," the elder Italian twin muttered as his brother continued to hold his arm captive in a death grip. 

"Did you vouch for them too?" A deadpan voice drifted from farther down the table. Lithuania sat there with a dead stare directed at England, very little of his usual timidness showing through. England, however, did not respond.

Prussia wanted to kiss Lithuania for his timing, but was simultaneously trying to hold back from tearing into England again. He hadn't been very receptive to them before, so giving England the big, fat I-told-you-so he deserved would do nothing but waste his breath. 

"Well... at least we know what happened to the lost colony of Roanoke now." A small voice came from Canada's chair. His face was half buried in his arms, giving his voice a slightly muffled quality when he voiced his attempt at finding the silver lining. 

"The first one, at least," England muttered after a silence.

Canada's head shot up at the same time as his siblings turned to fix England with a look. "What do you mean, the first one?"

"There were two Roanoke colonies, Matthew," England reiterated, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground below the rift. "After the initial scouting settlement, there was the colony that we just saw, and then... I believe it was two years later that we set up the second Roanoke colony. Both were lost colonies."

"How fucking stupid are you?" Denmark questioned, exasperation and frustration clearly present in his voice. Sweden backed him up nonverbally with a grunt and piercing stare. "The settlers of your colony disappear without a trace and you want to try again? Unless she told you what happened, which I doubt-- I mean, who would?--then that is single-handedly the dumbest decision you could have made. You're the guy in the horror movie that goes back into the house after finding out a demon's possessing it."

England gave the Dane a weak glare, "It was a reasonable decision, we thought the settlers merely abandoned the area and assimilated with the natives. Apparently we were wrong, I can't imagine why she didn't tell me--"

"Bullshit," Prussia growled, his red eyes pinning England to the back of his chair. "She vas a little girl who didn't have any other family around--if her little cave shelter meant anything--and jou vere the only other nation around, you vere her colonizer. Jou know as well as I do that sometimes that's as close as jou can get to family. With jou running back and forth to Europe she vas probably worried you might not come back if you found out she killed your men--which is a very reasonable thing to assume." 

The words were forced out harshly, but their meaning still rang true. England knew this, he knew his younger self should have been able to see this, but... 

Well, there is no changing the past, now is there?

 

Chapter 23: Art dump + A/N

Sooooo 

I know it's been a hot minute since I've updated this, and I promise I haven't abandoned it. Currently, I'm trying to keep up with my college work and that makes it harder to find time to work on this. It feels like the spring semester just started and I already have two midterm exams coming up this week!

Anyways, yeah, I have the next chapter maybe about halfway written, ish? It might be a bit longer before that gets published. 

But! To finally get to the point of this update, I didn't just post to tell you the writing's going slow. I've made quite a few sketches with the characters (mostly America) in this story recently (because this fandom takes up way too much of my headspace, all things considered) and I decided I would post them alongside some ramblings about the characters. Forgive the awful lighting, this was a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Also, I hope you can tell who is who, I did my best to stay true to the characters I left (visually) cannon. Honestly, though, most of this is just pose practice with my version of America and, let me tell you, her design has changed so much from the first posted photo on here (in the first chapter). 

(If you don't want any spoilers (not really but kind of) or extra insight into the characters outside of what's actually revealed in the story, just ignore the text below all of the pictures.)

The above photo is a bit older than the rest, and I find it so funny she went from tank-top to turtleneck. 

(This ramble gets a little long, so if you only care about pictures, feel free to keep scrolling)

Ack! It won't rotate! Oh well, I'm not re-taking the photo to re-email it to myself to re-upload it, just tilt your head (or phone). Also, eeeeeee, Amayeli! I forgot I drew you! :D   Who would have thought personifying an entirely different group of people from the one you were born with could have such drastic effects on someone's appearance? Honestly, you can't blame the Nordics for not recognizing her, I mean, her hair and skin did a full 180--plus the new scars (and subsequent hiding of half her face with her bangs)! (Really, though, I draw her bangs more off to the side for the sake of face practice, but in the story she would be wearing them completely over her scarred eye) If she hadn't already turned halfway into a redhead by the time she stopped seeing Kanata as much, he wouldn't have recognized her when they reunited much later either.

Also, I love the idea that the Nordics would get such odd deja-vu around her! Matthias gets used to it after a while and they become really good friends, but the others would get it so bad! Usually when they interact with Amelia, she's putting up her whole "meeting persona" so when they do talk to her outside of meetings (because of her friendship with Matthias) they are thrown for a loop! 

Tino is reminded of his little girl's sweet demeanor and kindness, and it almost make him tear up, because she would always match his weird energy when she was still around. He also notices little things in her speech patterns, like odd phrases that sound more like sayings translated into English than things native English-speakers would say that she never stopped using. It just gives him such strong deja-vu but he can't place why--because Amayeli's been gone for a millenium! She's a painful subject and not something they talk about aloud very often! Kanata too, but they interact with Canada even less than Amelia, so.

Berwald can't help but notice how comfortable Amelia is around him compared to other people. He finds it sweet of her, and enjoys sitting in comfortable silence with her because it reminds him of similar moments with Amayeli. When Vinland was still around, he and Amayeli would just sit together and enjoy platonic contact (hugs, her leaning against his side, ect.) as their way of showing affection to each other. Unlike Tino, who shows affection through words, Berwald has always preferred actions, and their daughter was perfectly happy to switch between the two depending on who she was with. 

Lukas was definitely the cool, magic uncle who showed her tricks all the time, he was the perfect opposite to Matthias' playfully aggressive energy. Again, he doesn't talk as much as Tino, but he would still sit down to tell her neat stories every now and again (usually about trolls). She would hang onto his every word and pay such close attention when he showed her how he worked his magic. Now, that also means that, of all the Nordics, he gets the least deja-vu because there's so much fewer similarities to their interactions between then and now. However, he is hit the hardest when her control over her magic slips and he catches a hint of her magical signature. Those signatures are incredibly personal to individuals, and he knows he's sensed that signature before, but he can't figure out where. It isn't until after the connection is revealed in the rift that he realizes the signature he sensed was a stronger and more concentrated version of the ambient, uncontrolled magic that always hung around Amayeli. 

Emil is the most puzzled by the deja-vu. He was the youngest at the time, so he remembers the least, but there's still that sense that he's missing something and he hates it. Emil frequently feels like the odd one out in the group--always has--because of the significant distance between his land and the other Nordics' as well as the age gap. When he played with the Vinland twins, though, he didn't feel misplaced, they were like him and he was like them. He gets reminded of this sometimes when talking with Amelia, because she always includes him in the conversations she has around him, and he distantly recognizes their similarities because she doesn't really fit in well with the other nations either. All that combined, and he comes to the realization that, wait--isn't this familiar? He feels like he's forgetting something, but it lessens a bit when he starts thinking about his old playmates--siblings? Emil tries to bring them up, to get one of the other Nordics to tell a story about them or talk about the twins at all to jog his memory a bit, but they don't want to. In fact, Tino almost looks like he's about to cry when he pushes the subject too much, he even thinks he saw Berwald tear up one time he was being particularly insistent, which--what? Berwald never cries, barely even shifts his expression in the slightest, and he caught the guy looking like he was about to break. That gets him to stop pushing, but he still gets the deja-vu.  

Heheheheheheheh, I love my badass America! Of course she's punted plenty of grown men for the hell of it! Were there other ways to resolve the situations? Yes. Were they as fun? No. No, they weren't. 

This one's the most recent, literally churned this whole page out in like an hour (ish) after a several-hour solo study session today. Also, I've been slowly realizing that I'm somehow awful at drawing smiling and happy expressions... I really don't know how that happened, you'd think those would be the easier ones.

Enter the Awsome Trio! (Again, an older drawing, but still-) I love these friends, really I do, their dynamic is just so fun! Amelia and Gilbert are definitely the closest of the three, but they're all great friends regardless. Still haven't figured out how discovering Matthias is actually Amelia's long-lost Uncle/Farbror/Onkel/same thing is going to change things though. Hmmmmmm, thoughts for later, I suppose.

Yeah, I don't know. I was doing pose practice and saw these two (Ames and Gil) in the blank characters. I guess pretend someone said something stupid or offensive to one of them and this is how they reacted.

Eeeeeeeeeeeee! The siblings! Again, started as pose practice but I looked at the reference and immediately saw these four. They would absolutely do this too! (Well, not always, their relationships were rocky at one point for a while, but in modern (ish) times, absolutely!) Also, when it comes to their relationships with each other, obviously they're closest with their twin, but when it comes to their other siblings? Amelia and Diego are closer than Diego and Matthew (because why not), and same goes for Matthew and Maria. Obviously they're all close and they love hanging out with all of their siblings (and there are definitely special bonds between Amelia and Maria because god knows growing up as a woman way back then would have been absolute hell, especially because they never age physically past their early twenties) but they just get along especially well. 

And we're ending this with a giggle! Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk! 

(In case I didn't get the details close enough, that's England in the trash can)

He knows what he did, he doesn't want to admit it, but he knows.

He was an awful parent, but he did genuinely enjoy having a daughter... we'll see how that works out after the whole backfired-spell thing is over. She's (Amelia's) absolutely pissed at him, but I haven't decided if he gets a (kind of) redemption arc (although, even if he does, there is no forgiving most of that shit, just moving past it maybe). He definitely gets punched in the face at least one more time though. I don't know why I like him as a villain so much, I just do (though villain isn't really the right term, just shitty person).

 

Chapter 24: 23

"Come now, Amelia, I can't get anything done like this."

The memory faded in to the sight of a redheaded little girl clinging to her blonde caretaker's arm. His appendage was tightly held in place by the crooks of her elbows as she hugged it to her chest, burying her face in the back of his forearm. 

"'m not letting go," she huffed out simply. Amelia was happy to have someone around again, it had been getting lonely having only the animals to talk to--they never had much to say back.

A great sigh was heaved above her before his arm raised up, taking her and her iron grip with it. Green eyes met blue with an amused sort of exasperation. One might say he was almost flattered by her childish emotional attachment to him, but Amelia knew his desire to finish his project outweighed that flattery. 

"Amelia," Arthur warned.

"I'm not letting go," she declared, her jaw set. 

Arthur wasn't discouraged any easier than the girl clinging to him, and gave his arm a testing shake. 

"I'll just grab your leg if you shake me off."

Another sigh, "That would actually be preferable right now." Another slight tremor traveled through his burdened arm, no doubt a half-hearted attempt to dislodge the girl. 

"Oh," Amelia's grip loosened a bit, "Alright." With that, her grasp on Arthur's arm loosened entirely, leaving her to land back on the ground in a practiced motion. Of course, as soon as her feet touched dirt, she beelined it for the closest leg. In no time, she had his left leg completely trapped, and looked up at him with a grin of pure, childlike joy.

Arthur leveled her with a considering look for a long moment before merely shaking his head and starting to walk towards the storage house. Amelia made small noises of amusement to accompany her giggles as she was repeatedly raised up into the air with the limb she had confiscated. After adjusting her grip, she looked like a koala hugging a branch, with both her legs and arms wrapping around their claim. When Arthur finally looked down again, he couldn't help the chuckle that left him, "Good Lord, Amelia."

To no ones surprise, the child stayed attached for the entirety of the time it took him to count up the supplies and rations that had been moved from the ship earlier that morning. 

"Amelia, really," England huffed out with a shake of his leg, "this can't possibly be any more comfortable for you than it is me." A hum and the tightening of small limbs around his leg were his only response. Arthur sighed, "Amelia, please let go," he said in a slow, measured voice.

"But you will leave again, and the bad things happen when you leave." The girl whined, her native accent having strengthened again during his time away.

For a moment, Arthur was taken aback by the genuine distress in the child's voice. Shaking his head, he moved to kneel in front of her, prying the tiny hands off of his leg in the process. Amelia released another whine before immediately latching on for a proper hug. Another sigh left the man's lips, but he returned the embrace nonetheless. "Amelia," he began, "I am not leaving this time, not for a good long while, so you don't have to worry." There was a beat of silence before Arthur continued slowly, considering each word as it left his mouth, "If it truly bothers you so much, I suppose I could take you with me the next time I must leave."

That got the child's attention, her head snapping up immediately to fix him with an awed look. "Really?! I can go on the boats with you? I can see your lands?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Arthur nodded, taking the girl's hands in his own to guide them off of him. When both of her hands met in front of her, his used his own, much larger ones to wrap around them in an almost protective gesture. "Now, why don't you go help the ladies making tonight's meal so I can get some work done? This settlement can't establish itself."

A look of curiosity graced Amelia's face, "Establish?"

"It means to set up or make," Arthur explained with a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth and a pat on Amelia's head. With that, he stood once more, and began walking over towards a group of men building a cabin.

Amelia watched him go, an interesting mix of excitement and disappointment blended on her face. After a moment she appeared to literally shake herself from her thoughts and turn to beeline for a group of women setting up a firepit and cooking area to use while shelter was still limited.

---------------

Prussia narrowed his eyes at the Englishman across from him, furrowed brows and an angry twist to his lips conveying the suspicion he cared not to voice. Just a few chairs down, Canada wore an eerily similar expression, the only difference being his signature mildness.

England did not seem to notice, too focused on fixing the rift with his own, slightly confused, glare.

---------------

The next memory was short, but not the least bit sweet. A body lay on the beach, unmoving in the blood-soaked sand. There were murmurs of shock and utterances of rage, 'damn those savages' being the most frequently heard words. Amelia anxiously stood to the side with the growing crowd of settlers as two men lifted the body out of the sandy dirt for a proper burial elsewhere. 

Just quickly as the memory had formed, it disappeared again to be replaced by a sobbing child.

"Amelia, love, please, you know I'll be back as quickly as I can," England cooed, discomfort on his face as he awkwardly patted the back of the child clinging to him. "Come now, the weather is good, I'll be back in four months, that's all."

Another sob that sounded like a "No!" came from the little redhead. 

England sighed, expression desperately thoughtful before he lit up and addressed the girl once more--nudging her away from his now tear-soaked shirt and curling a gentle finger under her chin to lift her gaze. "Chin up, love, I need someone to stay here and protect the colony, now don't I?

 Amelia met his eyes in confusion, sniffing as she swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"Yes, you see, with poor Mr. Howe having died as he did, I need someone to protect the colony. You can do that, can't you? You're my tough little girl aren't you?" England spoke softly, gently clearing the hair from her face. 

"Y-yeah, but... why me?" Amelia sniffed again, her eyes steadily clearing. 

"Well, it's quite frightening for our people right now, they need someone to make them feel safer while I'm gone to get supplies. They need, um... ," England's expression turned thoughtful again, and he fixed her with the warmest smile he could manage, " they need a hero, 'melia. As their personification, you can be their hero, can't you?"  He asked, cupping her jaw with his hand and stroking a thumb gently against her little cheek. 

She hugged his arm, still fighting back fresh tears, "Well, I-I can--I, uh... y-yeah... yeah." 

"Very good, then," England straightened, towering over the child once more, "I will do my best to be back as soon as possible, I promise." He gave her shoulder a final squeeze, and walked off in the direction of the ship.

--------------

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Diego looked ready to burst, his expression having more surprise mixed in with his anger than most supposed was reasonable--this was England they were talking about. "You can't even keep a single promise, you bastard?" His voice raised nearly a dozen decibels, and his sister, once more, had to ensure he remained seated. Finland looked just as enraged, though he hadn't uttered a word as he death glared at the brit.

To his credit, England looked much less indignant than he had during the previous verbal attacks--though his frustrating arrogance remained. "Listen, this one wasn't entirely my fault."

"Oh, please, do tell," Prussia growled.

England sighed, "Well, I couldn't just bring  a clearly savage child back to England with me along with news that the natives had killed a settler, she would have been mauled."

"Or, you could have protected her," Finland pointed out with a sneer, "Been her--what was it you said in the memory?--her hero?" He finished with a raised brow.

At that, Romano started, as if reminded of something, "Hey, yeah, you put that shit in her head! Seriously, tea bastard? You're the one that makes fun of her the most for that hero bullshit!"

"So, wait, we're just ignoring the fact he called his daughter a savage?" Emil spoke up, hand-half raised like he was in class. 

"I did not put anything in her head, I was simply making an analogy!" England spat, and there was that indignance again. 

Emil threw up his hands, slumping back into his chair with a scowl and lowly grumbling when Lukas patted his shoulder sympathetically. A separate series of frustrated exclamations and grumbles erupted across the table in tandem, but another memory faded in before the argument could be further pursued.

---------------

"It has been too long!" A man shouted from atop the church's simple doorstep. "We can't go any longer without supplies, and it is clear the war of our homeland is preventing any from arriving! It has been decided, we will travel to Croatoan island and seek mercy from the Indians there so that we may not die of hunger or attacks from unfriendly savages."

Murmurs of agreement and fear rumbled from the small crowd that had formed. 

"Let us gather what we can bring with us so that we may leave at first light tomorrow," another voice called out, effectively dispelling the crowd.

Amelia fiddled with her hands, she had tried to help them gather foodstuff for the winter--the woodlands were bountiful if one knew where to look--but they hadn't listened. Even now, they didn't pay her any mind as they filed back to their shacks. She nervously glanced over her shoulder at the tall fences surrounding the settlement and sighed. 

Night had fallen, there was nothing she could do, the settlers had made up their minds. As she wandered back to the fire pit, she wondered if they were planning on letting her follow them. Sure, she was their personification, but they didn't know that, they knew her only as the little savage girl the expedition leader had grown fond of. She wasn't deaf--far from it actually--she heard the nasty remarks they made when her back was turned, and some that were even made to her face. The settlers didn't trust her--savages were one thing, half-breeds were another, and she certainly looked the part with her flaming red hair and tanned skin. It was likely they would pack up what little supplies they had left, along with little Victoria and the other children she had so enjoyed playing with, and leave her to live on her own once more. 

She kicked at the ash on the outskirts of the dying fire, "four months", yeah, sure. Amelia should have known better than that--it was never as quick as Arthur promised it would be. 

"AAARRRRIIIEEEEGGGGHHHH"

Amelia's head snapped up to the sky, she knew that howl. It was the only sound that made her hide deeper in her little cave-home when she had been alone. There was only one creature that could make a sound that ghoulishly primal, and the girl was ashamed to say it was the sole thing that really, truly, terrified her. It was a silly fear, that's what her siblings had said. Yes, the wendigos were dangerous, but they faltered in the presence of fire, and that was an element she had mastered long ago. Still...

The only sounds to be heard were the frightened murmurs and whimpers of the settlers, who had begun to poke their heads out of their huts in disturbed confusion. Silence reigned in the woods, the beast's cry quieting even the most raucous birds and bugs. That was what frightened her the most--the woods only ever hushed in anticipation. 

All at once, more howls sounded out, there had to have been at least half a dozen creatures, the sounds assaulted Amelia's senses from all angles. Turning in circles, she slowly crept her way to the wood stacks. It was an awful feeling, how her back tingled when the sounds echoed from behind her. The wendigo pack wasn't here yet, but they would be. 

She finally pressed back against the roughly cut wood chunks, the splinters against her skin grounding Amelia as she tried to focus. The settlers knew something was wrong now, and men were sneaking out of their homes, weapons in hand. Amelia wished they had stayed where they were, gunshots would only draw the creatures closer, and pitchforks were about as useful as twigs. If only the evening fire hadn't been allowed to die out yet, they might have had some hope. 

There were no footsteps, no snapping twigs, but Amelia could hear them. She heard the swish of wind and the drawing of breath faintly from beyond the fences. Shaking her head, she screwed her eyes shut and concentrated--she could do this, she could be a hero, like those knights in the stories she's been told. Build the flames, spark an ember, kindle it in warm palms. A faint heat warmed her fingers, sparking a sense of relief in her chilled core. Slowly, so as not to extinguish the newborn flames, she turned her palms to press against the wood to her back. 

"Dear God, help us!" 

BOOM!

A gunshot rang out, shocking a yelp from the small girl as she jerked. Panic roared within her once more as the beasts shrieked in response, closing in on the sound. A glance at her palms showed the flames were gone, shaken out by her harsh flinch. She wasn't allowed any time to panic, though, because the moment she looked away from the settlement's center, a great thud sounded out in sync with hysterical screams. 

They were here.

A single, grey-toned and emaciated beast landed before the man who'd just unloaded his gun into the fence. The massacre began immediately, with another beast jumping onto a hut and ripping through the thatching like sticks through cobwebs. More landed within the settlement's flimsy borders within seconds and Amelia stared with wide eyes at the carnage. 

It didn't last long, wendigos were labeled as the perfect hunters for a reason, after all. A severed arm flew through the air, blood droplets scattering, towards the wood pile. Amelia felt a few specks land on her lips, and stifled a scream. It didn't matter how much noise she made, in the end, as another beast landed in front of her seconds later--presumably having cleared the tall wood pile from behind as easily as taking two steps in one.  

The sight of its horrible maw, looking down at her with bloodlust-fueled hunger even the still-fresh deer skull mask couldn't distract from, felt like a trigger. All at once, the girl erupted in flames that reached out to caress the hideous creature and singe her clothes all at once. It jumped back in pain with an ear-piercing shriek as it clutched at its seared face . The bone mask was charred now, and Amelia couldn't help the hysterical giggle that burst from her throat. For some reason, she felt as if, in that moment of self-defense, she had righted some outstanding wrong. It was a silly notion, and there wasn't really any time to dwell on it, so she brushed it off as pride at finally facing her irrational fear. 

Before the beast could lung at her again, she stuck out her hands, sending with them a stream of superheated flames. It was the type of attack that made her older siblings nervous when they trained together, but she figured it was justified this time. There wasn't a risk of creating an inferno in the wonderful Bright forest, only incinerating the horrible beasts attacking her people. 

When she was done with the creature, she set out further into the settlement to find the rest, only to discover they had fled. That was the only reason her fear of the beasts had ever been entertained by her family: the creatures were smart. They knew when to fight and when to flee--they even set traps occasionally. Wendigos were almost on par with human intelligence, however primal that presence of mind may have become, which made them one of the more dangerous monsters running loose in the world. 

She ran around the entire settlement, and checked every destroyed building. Once she made it back to the center, she finally realized something that killed her slight sense of satisfaction: there were no wendigos, but there weren't any people either. In her entire search, only blood and mauled corpses were left to be found--along with the wendigo's charred remains. Her hand reached up to the divot between her collar bones, moving to prod at the soft flesh as she often did when upset, only to jerk away when the scent of burnt hair met her nose. She shook her hands out in front of her, hoping to cool them but only managing to work herself up. Amelia felt a sob creeping up her throat at the thought of being alone again for who-knows-how-long, but covered it up with a grunt of frustration. As the small girl stomped off to grab a shovel, the memory faded out.

---------------

"Well, now her thing about wendigos makes a lot more sense," Maria muttered, eyeing her younger twin for sudden movements. 

"...Arthur," Scotland bit out after a moment of silence. 

It took a moment for the younger Brit to respond, his tone an interesting mix of irritation and apprehension, "Yes, Alistair?"

The Scotsman slowly turned to meet his brother's eyes before speaking in a tightly controlled manner, " You told me that the natives had attacked that colony and taken the colonists prisoner." 

"Well that's what it'd looked like, how was I supposed to know there were monsters?" England shrugged, "And before you ask, the only reason I didn't take her with me after this was because I couldn't find her. I'm not psychic, there's only so much I can do in these sorts of situations."

"You di-- hnnn," Francis began, only to stop himself with a frustrated grunt as he buried his face in his hands. 

Alistair ignored Francis in favor of continuing with his own grievance, "Are ya blind, man? Did you not think to count the bodies?" His hands flew around as he spoke, movements growing wilder the longer he continued. 

"There were no bodies, " England retorted snappishly, "All we saw was old blood."

A distressed groan came from Gilbert, and he joined in with a slight strain to his voice, "Are jou trying to tell us zhat a seven-year old buried all those bodies?" Something in his voice made his little brother start, as it sounded almost like he was pleading with the man to deny it. 

Instead of Arthur, a hesitant, Italian-accented, voice spoke up, "Well, she did pick up that shovel..." Feliciano answered sheepishly, pressing closer to his older twin's side, who just shook his head. 

Francis was afraid to ask, but the words came tumbling out regardless of his conscious will, "How many people were there?" The words came out weak and hesitant, but they were asked, and the question hung over all of their heads. 

Arthur moistened his lips nervously, looking all too much like a nervous child who had just broken a window. A sharp elbow from his sister finally prompted his reply, "About... about a hundred or so..."

A hush fell over the nations once more. They were certainly no strangers to blood and gore, they each had many wars behind them, but the age made all the difference--America wasn't even a thought in the heads of rebellious colonists yet, and wouldn't be for quite some time. 

 

Chapter 25: 24

Notes:

CW: Cannibalism (we get to Jamestown in this chapter)

 

There was a singular memory left with ties to Roanoke colony. The ships had finally come, though it was obvious by the child's appearance that their arrival was far too late. Her red hair, which had previously brushed against her shoulders, now cascaded down to her waist, unbound as it was. 

England and a small landing party made their way to the shore, their wide-brimmed hats protecting them from the blazing sun as they dragged the rowboat from the ocean's grasp. The rotting remains of the colony served them quite the shock--at least that's what it looked like from the tree she perched in. While the men searched through the wreckage, Amelia sat, watching.

Or was it Amayeli again?

Did it even matter? She hadn't heard either name in quite a while. Even her older siblings had stopped their already infrequent visits.

The little girl continued to observe, her face remaining blank and impassive as she sat there. She swung her leg back and forth in the air while watching the birds as human voices wafted to her ears. It was a wonderous thing, being up where the birds reigned, she could almost pretend she was one of them if she didn't look down at her featherless arms and opposable thumbs. 

"Amelia! Amelia, love, where are you?"

Her gaze snapped back down to the wandering Englishmen. Arthur was on the outskirts of the colony now, where the fence had been ripped down to shambles more than a winter ago. He was calling her name--or one of them--and sounded rather distressed. But then, if he was so concerned, why hadn't he let her stay with him? 

His shouts continued, growing in volume and desperation before ultimately going quiet once more.

The birds were better company, anyways. 

---------------

England couldn't find the words. She had been right there? He had searched for days, how many times had she been sitting up in some tree, watching him go half-mad with worry? Why hadn't he thought to look up, when she was always swinging on a blasted tree branch every time he'd visited before?

Would it have mattered if he did?

He didn't remember her being done with him this early, in fact he could swear she had been happy to see him when he came to Jamestown. Arthur's sizable brows knit together as he thought. Perhaps she had missed him, but was too angry to face him until the next colony had been established? He could understand that, he supposed. Deep down, the brit knew he wasn't exactly the most warm and fuzzy person in the world, but still... 

---------------

Merely a handful of short memories filled the gap between the end of the Damned colony and the next one. There were no words, only the singing of birds and cicadas as the young girl went about living in her little cave--which had been made rather homey, by cave standards. She even seemed to have taken to traveling after a while, with the settings changing from beach, to mountains, forest, plains, the spirit realm, and back again.

Then the ships came.

She didn't see them sail in this time, only noticing their presence after pale men came swarming her shore. It should have angered her, or annoyed her at least, but she found only a wisp of excitement blooming in her chest. It was wrong and she knew it. Pale faces only brought pain, and Arthur only brought tears.

So why did it hurt so much to see that he was not among the newcomers?

The girl sighed, but visibly gathered herself to face the pale settlers as they surveyed her land. 

Her conversations with the governor and other expedition leaders were short and simple. She hadn't expected them to accept her presence so easily, though it made a bit more sense when it was admitted that Arthur had pulled the governor aside to inform him of the personification situation. It was something the man had muttered to her in private, once the others had left to continue preparing the area for the settlers. Amelia wasn't exactly surprised, yet the numbness lifted when the man continued. He told her that Arthur truly had missed her, that he had searched for a sign of her only to return home brokenhearted, and that family was a sacred thing. 

She wasn't sure what to do with the information, so she pushed it to the back of her mind and reassumed her role as personification of an English colony.

Short memories faded in and out of the back-and-forth relationship that followed between Amelia's new people and the people of her siblings. A glimpse of an attack came first, then the construction of the wooden walls that shielded the colonists in a grand triangle around their camp. Then came glimpse after glimpse of both friendly trading and attacks by the same people. 

-----

"Captain Smith?" Amelia crept up behind the man, giving him a start. 

"Oh, 'melia, do you need something?" Captain John Smith turned to fix her with a searching look. 

Amelia moistened her lips nervously before speaking. "I was wondering, it's been two years now... do you think Arthur's ever coming?" 

The Captain looked surprised. "Well, love, I don't know. There is a war on right now, you know? He's off helping the Dutch and them against the Portuguese. Though, I have to admit I thought you wouldn't want to see him even if he did come." He leaned back, taking a sip from the waterskin hanging from his hip.

Amelia's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?" Her voice had lost the timidness it carried before, morphing into a tone her mother would use. 

He merely chuckled, not intimidated in the least. "Well, he gave me the impression that he called for you for quite some time last he was here, and yet you didn't come out until my men came upon the bay's shores."

"There's a lot of land here, he must not have yelled loud enough." Amelia retorted, a slight redness blossoming on her skin. 

"Be that as it may," he paused for another sip, "You didn't sound very pleased with him when I brought him up last." The Captain pointedly raised an eyebrow. 

Amelia huffed and crossed her arms, "Yes, well, he broke a promise and then left for a long time. I do not have to be pleased with him." She spoke slowly, still struggling a bit with not stumbling over the English words after such a long period of not speaking them. 

"Yet you still want him to come? If him leaving is the problem then why don't you just join one of the families here? I'm sure they'd have you." The man tilted his head, a small smile contradicting his furrowed brows. 

A glare was sent in the Captain's direction, but it lasted merely a moment before Amelia turned her gaze to the wooden wall in the distance. "You would not understand."

Captain Smith snorted. "Of course, you immortals and your issues. I suppose you wouldn't want any connection with a being who can die, now would you? Fair enough." He ruffled her hair and walked away to the munitions stock, probably to look over their stocks again. Her glare followed him once more. It wasn't that simple. 

Another huff left the child before she turned to leave. She had barely made it two steps before a bang from behind had Amelia whirling back around. Captain Smith was on the ground, the skin on his arms an angry red as he cried out. Some men ran over to help and carried him into a house. Amelia was about to follow, before something else caught her eye. Was that Mr. Thomas smiling by the munitions shed? Her brows furrowed once more, but... was this really her problem?

No, it wasn't. She left to tend to the pitiful garden without another thought.

-----

The Captain was loaded up onto the ship about a day later, and Amelia watched from the Chesapeake Bay's edge as they set sail for England. She thought about the last words he had said to her, "I'll tell him you're here, love. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll be overjoyed."

Amelia wasn't sure how to feel about that. On one hand, she did miss him--though it was stupid and she didn't know why. He had abandoned her many times over the past 24 years, after all. On the other hand, the idea of seeing him again put a horrible knot in her stomach. What if he just left again? Or didn't come at all? 

Perhaps she shouldn't have ignored his calls 19 years ago, when he came back after Roanoke had been destroyed for the last time. He had come back like he promised to, after all--though it took about a year longer than he had said. 

She kicked the sand in frustration and walked back to the walled settlement.

-----

Cold wind blew harshly through the settlement, and flashes of memories appeared within the rift. First came images of the failed garden, then dangerously thin colonists and flashes of men butchering their horses and dogs. Of course, that only lasted so long before they were left without food once more. Amelia herself looked horribly skinny, with hollowed cheeks and protruding bones to match her people.

The speedy montage ended quickly and thrust America into the next full-length memory. She stood to the side, as she had for the entirety of her torture so far. Her hands moved across her face, rubbing at her eyes as she wondered why she couldn't finally forget the horrors of Jamestown.  

Torch flames contrasted the ice cold winter, illuminating the dips in the colonists' angered features. There were far fewer of them now, less than half of their original number. 

"Please! Please! It's not so different from what you lot did! It's not!" A man screamed and thrashed as three others tied him to a post. 

"Ya ate yer wife, man!" Another man growled and held his torch higher. 

"I was starving! I couldn't take it! You lot ate that other girl, you understand, don't you?! You have to!" He wailed as the three men finished securing his diminished form to the post. 

"She was already dead! We ate the dead!" The other roared as he stomped closer and lowered his torch to the kindling beneath the struggling man's feet. "You killed yer wife while she was with child, you murderer!" 

The only response was incoherent screams as the flames climbed up the man's clothing. There wasn't much to burn, but the flames certainly took their time. Perhaps it was karma. 

Amelia watched impassively with her arms wrapped around her midsection before scurrying away. The man's burning flesh smelled too much like cooked livestock. 

---------------

"Holy shit," Romano breathed. His gaze still stuck on the burning man's form.

"They were cannibalizing each other?" Austria whispered in shock, his hand partially covering his mouth. 

France shifted uncomfortably with his features still firmly twisted by disgust, "Well... they certainly must have been starving. They did eat their horses first. But--" He covered his mouth with a hand as a distressed noise escaped him.

Canada turned to his siblings. "Did she ever mention anything about Jamestown to you guys?" He murmured with his brow raised in concern. 

The Mexico twins thought for a moment before shaking their heads. "No... ," Maria spoke up, "I mean, I knew there was a famine because she said it was the reason... well." Her voice dropped lower, below the shocked murmurs from the other nations. "she said it was one of the reasons she has weight problems, you know?" 

Canada nodded. Though he had never spoken to her about it, he knew his sister had problems putting on weight--despite the harsh comments from the other nations saying the opposite. It was why she always had a couple snacks on hand. "But nothing else?"

"No, she didn't mention anything more than that." Maria shook her head. It looked like Canada had been about to say something more, but all three siblings were then drawn into a conversation across the table by an Italian-accented voice.

"You don't think she actually... you know." Feliciano asked, only to be smacked upside the head by his twin. 

"Don't ask dumb questions, Feli." Romano huffed, though his face was still pinched by the fading scene displayed by the rift. 

---------------

The next memory faded into a little hiding space. Amelia sat, motionless, underneath a low table set up against the outer wall of a house. She was so still and so thin that she could've been mistaken for dead, which was exactly why she hid. 

Sounds filtered in from outside their walls. Amelia's tired mind couldn't tell if they were coming from natives preparing another attack or their long-awaited help. Whoever they were, they busted down the gates with some difficulty before spreading out inside the settlement. Amelia could see their boots from her spot beneath the table, but couldn't gather the strength to crawl out and meet them; so she sat. 

She could hear the men's exclamations as they made their way through the settlement. They had clearly found the other settlers, calling out about living skeletons. Then came a familiar call. 

"Amelia! Are you here, love? Where are you?" 

The little girl held herself tighter, her fingers digging into her skin. He actually came. Her father had come for her. She let out a sound, but it didn't come out nearly as loud as she had intended. That didn't seem to matter, though, because merely a moment later she heard footsteps rushing toward her little hiding spot. She barely managed to lift her head up in time to see Arthur kneel down in front of her. 

He let out an almost wounded noise when he saw her. His worried green eyes rested on her for merely a moment before Arthur wrapped her up in his arms. Swiftly, he lifted her up from under the table and began the trek to the anchored ship. Amelia just buried her face into his chest and he held her tighter. "Bloody hell, love, you're skin and bones." Arthur muttered. 

She didn't look up once, only listening to her father's heartbeat through his coat. When Amelia heard the transition to boots against wooden planks, she couldn't help but smile. 

---------------

England remembered the aftermath of Jamestown quite clearly, despite it having been some four hundred years ago. That was the first time his little girl had truly needed him, and he had done his best to help her back to proper health. It was also the first time he had brought her to his lands. England rubbed a hand over his face, how had things gotten so bad between them? It seemed like only yesterday she was his little girl, and now he doubted he would ever get that back.  

 

Chapter 26: 25.

A/N:  So, I've been writing this fic for a while and have decided that having a bunch of nations sit around a meeting table watching their colleague's memories isn't the best way to tell the stories I have in mind. Therefore, while this fic will be wrapped up before all of Amelia's memories are displayed, I will be posting additional works to tell the story of this world through a better lens. I simply have grown to dislike telling Amelia's story in what is essentially first person but with third person pronouns and interruptions to keep the nations on the other side of the rift from being forgotten. 

That being said, this does not mean that this work is being abandoned (despite the slow updates), only wrapped up with far fewer future chapters than initially expected. As I said earlier, additional works will also be posted (eventually, I'm not promising any regularity as I am currently in college and trying to make enough money to comfortably afford future semesters. )  

----------

When the next memory faded in, it was clear from the sounds of distant waves that Amelia was on the English ship. The little girl sat next to Arthur on a simple bed inside a room so nice for such a vessel that it had to have been the captain's quarters. As the visual came into focus, so did the tail end of the Englishman's story. He gestured wildly with one hand, as if fighting off an unseen opponent with an equally invisible cutlass. In his other arm, a redheaded child curled up against his side, completely enraptured by the tale. Arthur finally concluded his retelling of fending off a ship of Spanish pirates with a flourish of his wrist, slaying another invisible foe. 

He looked down at the child as she let out an awed breath and held her a tad closer. Arthur visibly refrained from grimacing when he took in the state of his daughter once more. She had gained some weight during the past month of their voyage, but remained pitifully thin. He could carry her around with one arm and completely forget the slight burden on his muscles until she shifted in his grasp. That is to say, he had, in fact, done this multiple times while attending to matters around the ship--equally unwilling to leave her out of his sight as he was to pass off his duties to another. 

Amelia certainly didn't seem to mind. All anger she had once harbored for Arthur had been washed away by the waves the first time he had carried her onto the deck and pointed towards their destination. "Right there, hundreds of leagues away," Arthur had said, his finger outstretched towards a spot on the horizon, "are the great Islands of the English homeland. It will only be a few months until we arrive and I can show you all sorts of wonderful things you never got to see in your own lands."

For now, Amelia sat with Arthur in his cabin, feeling the comforting rock of waves caressing the ship's hull as she attempted to fuse herself to his side. Arthur was quite warm, especially with the nice, heavy coat he wore to protect from the sea's chilled winds. Amelia herself had been frozen ever since the last winter had set in, first with few linens and then with barely any food. She very much enjoyed hiding in his coat as Arthur spun his tales. Occasionally, she would laugh when he shivered as she adjusted her frozen arms to better steal his warmth. 

The little girl had been quite cozy underneath both the bed's blanket and Arthur's coat when a chunk of bread was presented a few inches from her face. Amelia was almost too cozy and blessedly warm to accept the offering. Almost. She had been on a strictly liquid diet ever since her shriveled stomach had violently rejected her first meal aboard the ship. If Arthur was willing to test her belly with some solid food, Amelia wasn't about to complain. 

In merely a second, the bread had disappeared from the man's fingers. It was the fastest Amelia had moved in quite a while. Arthur smiled down at her as she steadily nibbled away at the bread, resembling a ginger-furred mouse. It did not appear that the child shared her father's concerns about the strength of her stomach, as the chunk was gone in mere moments. 

A hearty chuckle spilled from Arthur's lips as he squeezed Amelia closer and pressed their foreheads together. "You're going to be alright, love."

----------

Sweden's eyes narrowed at the scene. Fire flared within his chest like an old friend. How dare this man take his little girl away only to abandon her repeatedly, even after he got to bask in moments like these. How could a man who preformed so well as a father in moments like this fail so miserably at being a parent?

In the seat beside the Swede, Canada was sorting through thoughts quite similar yet so very different. He'd had similar moments with Arthur, himself, so how had their childhoods diverged so drastically? It's true, Matthew had never fought as intensely against Arthur as his sister had, but from what he could tell the divergence had begun far before that. Perhaps he would finally discover what caused such a big falling-out in their family through this whole fiasco of a meeting. 

Then again, the mere idea of such a discovery put a bitter taste on Matthew's tongue. Amelia had never been willing to dig into the portion of the past they failed to share. He would likely never find out what happened, or if any one thing in particular even did happen, directly from her, but getting the information from any other source felt like a betrayal. 

Matthew turned his gaze to the real, adult Amelia. Perhaps he hoped the sight of her would bring about some sort of revelation or consolation, but all it achieved was the flaring of alarms inside his head. His sister had resigned to remain seated within the rift some time ago, but it didn't seem to alleviate her fatigue. In fact, she looked worse than he had ever seen her. Even when her insomnia had gained concerning severity, Amelia managed to look more alert than she currently did as she slouched on the edge of the phantom bed. The idea that the visibility or invisibility of onlookers to her situation had a hand in her appearance flitted across Matthew's mind for but a fleeting moment. It didn't matter, he decided, the sheer lifelessness in her shadowed eyes was more than enough cause for concern. 

A pit formed in Matthew's gut, weighing him down as he glanced around the room. Twilight had come, and the sun's final rays shone through the blinds. They had to be well within the nine-hour mark since this spell had been cast.  When they had used this spell in the forties, a single session had never lasted even half this long. The implications of that fact swirled in Matthew's head as he glanced over at Norway. 

He knew Norway had said the spell couldn't be reversed, but that was before he had known that Matthew and his siblings were magic casters as well. Could they break the spell with the siblings' added power? Matthew wrung his hands as he wrestled with the uncertainties. A glance at his two siblings yielded no answers. Had they not noticed their sister's exhaustion, or was he making things out to be worse than they were?

After a moment of indecision, Matthew nudged Diego with his elbow and spoke lowly, so that only he would hear. "Hey, does Amelia look off to you?"

Diego blinked at him in surprise before critically glancing back at the rift. His expression faltered for a moment before setting back into place with all the rigidity of a rough carving. "Yeah, that's one word for it. "

"It looks like she's about to pass out." Maria leaned into their shared space, her chin resting on Diego's shoulder to accommodate her odd contortion. Her eyes gained a firm resolve as they bored into Matthew's soul. "We need to figure a way out of this, Mattie. Clearly our magic is stronger than theirs, maybe we can break the spell--or manipulate it somehow."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking, I'm just not sure how we'd go about it--you know?"

Maria's stare remained for several beats longer, unfocused in contemplation. Then, she pushed off of Diego's shoulder to shift forward in the own seat, leaning over the table to better see Norway several seats away. "Norway, who designed the most of this spell?"

Her words were loud in the solemn space and more than a few nations startled. It took a moment for Norway to regain his voice. "Uh, as I remember, we tried to divide it evenly, though Belarus ended up doing the bulk of the work because of what each of us were dealing with at the time."

Norway received a hum and nod before Maria's gaze was directed to the other end of the table. "Belarus, would the spell's design allow it to be broken if we could generate enough energy?"

A low hum drew out for several moments, catching like a growl as the Slavic woman stared through Maria in thought. One beat longer and Belarus' eyes came into focus. "...Yes, we've broken a human out of this spell before."

Violent creaking came from Diego's chair as he scrambled in place, snarl forming. "WH-!"

Firm fingers pressed him down into his seat. The man relented, but only upon meeting his sister's poisonous glare. He grumbled, but held his tongue--this was not the time. 

Maria ignored her twin's enraged glare, hand still firmly on his shoulder. She looked back at Belarus, who she noted had not shifted in the slightest at Diego's outburst. "And?"

"And it broke him so badly he spent the rest of his life in a nuthouse."

There was no longer resistance against Maria's hand as she felt her twin's shoulders slump. Maria let out a long exhale, shifting her gaze from Belarus to her sister beyond the rift and back again. Amelia looked like the living dead, dark shadows having formed under her eyes with supernatural speed and opacity. Belarus' gaze moved with hers. 

"I understand your concern." Belarus' tone was incredibly flat, but somehow Maria found herself believing her sincerity. "America is the first personification this spell has been used on. I don't know what continuing until the spell's natural end will do to her--it draws a considerable amount of energy from her to function, far more than it draws from us--but, if you want her to come back whole, we can't break it." 

The siblings caught some noises of distress escape a few of the nations. It seemed more of them were noticing their sister's condition now that the intensity of her memories had come to a lull.

Maria bit her lip as her fingers drummed an erratic rhythm on the table. "What if," she began, "what if we manipulated the spell, rather than breaking it? Could we somehow supercharge it into speeding through the rest of the memories without hurting Ames?"

The room waited with baited breath as the three self-proclaimed magic experts considered the idea. Hope blossomed when all three exchanged glances and slowly nodded. 

"Theoretically, yes." Belarus crossed her arms in thought, leaning more heavily on the table. "Though the severity of the energy drain on America would be difficult to predict. It could lessen the strain, or it could completely drain her."

Norway nodded in agreement. "Agreed, but the spell will drain her regardless, the biggest challenge will be generating enough energy to run through her memories as you've suggested. After all, we've been here for roughly nine hours and covered five to six hundred years worth of old, intermittent memories. More frequent memories will surface from recent decades, and even if that didn't matter we still have about four hundred more years to cover before present day."

"But it's still possible to speed this up?" Diego pressed. Upon receiving an affirmative nod a familiar frustration twisted his features. "Why the hell didn't you guys tell us this earlier?" 

"We don't have the power to do it with just the three of us." Belarus explained. "But, with the addition of all three of your magic stores, we might be able to at least speed it up enough to get close to the end before we all run out of magic. Had we known about your magical abilities when this all started, we may have thought of it sooner, but that's not how it happened."

Diego's head ducked down as his throat swelled with emotions. "Alright, fine, let's just get it over with now so we can get the hell out of here." 

No one opposed Diego's sentiment, and soon the meeting table was pushed back so that all six magic users could stand in front of the rift with sufficient space to cast. Norway was careful in explaining to the three siblings that they were not to attempt to force the spell to do any one thing in particular. Instead, they all were to feed the spell their energy, and the mechanics of the spell would do the rest of the work for them. After a few moments, all the non-magic-users were crowded against the walls in anticipation while the six casters prepared their energies. 

"Wait!" Matthew cried, breaking out of formation to rush back towards the table. 

"Jeez! The hell's the problem?" Diego called after him, having nearly jumped out of his skin at his brother's exclamation. 

"I just remembered the crystals!" 

"Oh, that's right!" Maria put a hand to her chest, how had she forgotten about that?

England exchanged glances with Belarus before voicing their shared question. "What crystals? What are you lot talking about?"

Matthew didn't look up from the bag he was rummaging through to answer. "When we have time, we like to charge certain crystals with our magic in case we run low on a hunt."

"A hunt--?"

"Not important--point is, I don't usually carry them to meetings but I know Ames does." He unzipped another pocket to rummage through before grunting in frustration and going back to the main compartment. "The problem is finding the damn things."

Diego broke away from the line of casters to join Matthew. "If you can't find hers, I keep some on me too." He pulled three small crystals from a side pocket in his own bag and held them out in his hand, displaying their mesmerizing orange glow.

Matthew glanced up at his brother's hand before going back to Amelia's bag. "Perfect, but I'd really like to get all that we can, and I know she has some here somewhere." A scowl grew on his face as he threw Amelia's discarded clothes onto a chair and continued searching through the duffle bag's various pockets. 

Maria tilted her head to get a better view. "Check the inner pocket."

"What inner pocket?"

"You know, the little zipper sown inside the main part."

The Canadian's brows furrowed as he abandoned the third side pocket to inspect the inner walls of the main compartment. Shifting the various folders and notebooks to the side, he finally found a little zipper running along the side. Peering inside, a vibrant, red glow caught his attention and Matthew pulled out six little crystals. Holding them up next to Diego's, they were noticeably smaller but heavily saturated. 

Having wasted enough time, the brothers hurried back to the line of casters, where Matthew looked over England, Belarus, and Norway. "Are you guys familiar with drawing energy from crystals?"

He received a confident "yes" in response and began placing a blood red crystal in each caster's hand. Once all six of them were prepared, every caster held at least one crystal, and the New World siblings paired their sister's crystals with one of Diego's bright orange ones.

Norway glanced down the line at the other casters before nodding to himself and setting his gaze firmly on the rift. It now displayed little Amelia staring in awe at the horizon as England's ports came into view and an oddly envious anger churned in his gut. Exhaling, he forced his fingers to relax from the fists they had formed. "Alright, on my mark." He held his hands out, palms up, with the little red crystal nestled in the dip of his right palm. The others followed, nearly in sync. "Center yourself and direct your magic into the rift."

On cue, streams of orange, green, blue, violet, and golden energies flowed from the casters' hands and into the rift like brightly glowing liquids defying physics. Non-casting nations watched in awe as the rift's shape warped for a moment before images formed and dissipated far too fast for the eye to process. Colors blurred and sounds mashed together until droning whines of varying pitches forced their way out of the rift. All that remained steady within the rift was America's trapped form.

Prussia's hand clamped onto Denmark's forearm as their friend's body shuddered and a pained shout broke through the warped ambient noise. The pressure held both of them back as their gazes flicked from the casters to the increasingly erratic rift. 

Traces of red and orange invaded other magics as time wore on. Choppy pops and bangs exploded into the room. Prussia barely made out images of smoke and fire between blurs of brighter and far more peaceful colors. At one point, he could have sworn he saw the flicker of a crumbling building. Faint groans emanated from the casters as the changing of images began to slow. 

Sounds of modern life filtered through the rift with more clarity, and the images slowed to look more like a TV at four times speed. Then, three streams of magic sputtered to a stop. England went first, then Belarus, then Norway. The three shared a long look before collectively setting the now colorless crystals on the meeting table and backing away to watch the New World siblings' progress from the sides. 

Roughly five more minutes passed before the siblings' breathing became labored. Matthew faltered first, though Maria and Diego were close behind. The three exchanged glances as they caught their breath. Then, they turned to the rift once more. 

A few beats of silence passed before Maria's sigh of relief broke the tension. "Oh, thank god." She nudged Diego and pointed up at the image of Amelia. "Look, that's from the day before the meetings started." 

Her brothers stared up at the scene as a phantom of their sister mulled around her kitchen, making what looked to be some sort of pasta as images of the rest of them flitted around--either helping or chatting. Slowly, the two recognized both the meal and their siblings' outfits. 

Diego pumped his fists in the air triumphantly and Matthew sighed with relief. Hesitantly, the rest of the nations began to unstick themselves from the walls to gather at the table once more. This time, they set about gathering their things as the memories continued at normal speed. 

Germany, happy for any excuse to look away from the rift, set about getting his brother's things in order as well as his own. Prussia didn't seem to mind, instead turning his gaze back to the rift to inspect his friend's hunched form. His brows knit together as he noticed that she looked even worse than before. Amelia's head drooped forwards, autumn waves completely obscuring her face once more as she leaned heavily on her elbows to keep herself upright. 

An obnoxious buzzing noise permeated the room as the scene changed. Prussia distantly recognized the dark room as Amelia's bedroom and shifted uncertainly as a groaning form shifted underneath the bed's comforter. Most nations had finished packing what little they had brought with them by now, and an uncomfortable pause was shared among the group before the image of America sat up--fully covered in an oversized t-shirt. 

Finland blinked upon registering that this memory was likely from yesterday night when he and the other Nordics had stayed with her. The room was silent as America picked up the phone and groaned at the screen. He couldn't help but wonder who would have called her in the dead of night, and as he glanced around the room Finland got the sense that he wasn't the only one with that question. They all got their answer, however, when a familiar voice came through the phone's speakers. 

A fresh wave of infuriated glares found their way to England, who actually shrunk back upon hearing his own slurred words. Sweden firmly set his jaw and found it difficult to restrain himself as Arthur's drunken insults spilled from the phone speakers, talking over Amelia's tired attempts to calm him. 

Things continued in a similar manner for several minutes--wherein Amelia had resigned to toss the phone onto the comforter, still on speaker as she held her face in one hand--before Scotland's calming accent replaced England's words. 

The scene faded out in sync with America flopping back onto her pillows and the dark room was replaced with the very meeting room in which they now stood. Various arguments simultaneously filtered through the rift, all of which were eventually directed to one large argument when the nations were presented with the topic of global debts. At some point America chimed in, as many other nations had. Immediately afterwards, translations of several nasty comments appeared in subtitles at the bottom of the screen. 

There were a variety of reactions among the nations outside of the rift. Some appeared genuinely chastised while others merely seemed irritated at having been caught, yet others displayed an odd mix of the two reactions. 

They only waited around for roughly twenty minutes longer before the incident between England and America played out within the rift. The Italian twins flinched simultaneously when America's enhanced hearing reported the small crack that sounded out from England's wrist. Once she released him, the scene faded out to white. 

When the white came, it refused to leave, it remained with an unshakable strength even as the rift shuddered and began to come apart. The now white rectangle dissolved steadily into sparks that sank into the floor as solid light began to build directly in front of the former rift. It grew and condensed into humanoid form.

Some nations sighed in relief, while others held their breath in anxious anticipation as the light dissipated America's body solidified.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of It's an Accident, but is it Happy?