Ashes to Ashes: Chapter 1, part 1

This story was not written as a harsh criticism of the military and/or religion. I fully support both (given they are utilized with good intentions).

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hetalia fandom

Warning: contains violence (occasional graphic descriptions), multiple character deaths, loads of angst and potentially touchy subjects (religion, military, ect). All pairings are slash (boy x boy). NOT a light-hearted story.

Characters without canon names:

Lukas Bondevik: Norway

Mathias Køhler: Denmark

Emil Steilsson: Iceland

Tim Mogens: Netherlands.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I apologize if anyone is offended by Netherlands' characterization. I'm making him a little like his anime portrayal (although I know he is nothing like this in real life) BUT trust me.. he is NOT a bad guy in this story, I promise. He's acting this way at the beginning for a reason, which I can't say without spoiling a part of the plot, but he WILL be more realistic (and a nicer person) by the end of the story!

Also, same applies to any character that's sort of seen in a bad light at the moment. They're all going to have depth and realistic motivations and not just be pointless villains (with maybe the exception of Germaina).


In the outskirts of town, there was a peculiar burst of activity. A small crowd gathered to witness, what an unsuspecting visitor would assume, to be a spectacular event. Among the people, stood a young soldier.

'Disgusting' Tino Väinämöinen thought to himself.

He had been in the military for just over a month, and already his mind was plagued by second thoughts on such decision.

Tino wondered how he had gotten himself in such a predicament. Life as a soldier serving in the Imperial Army, was far different than how he initially envisioned. He had imagined something far more pleasant, a job where he would help the locals of the town and the people he assisted would adore him and greet him everyday with a smiles on their faces.

Instead, the military seemed more interested in some rather less agreeable activities.

Thus Tino had later figured, was the fault of the ceasefire a few decades back. As most of the documents had described, for the first time since centuries past, every neighboring country was at peace. With nothing reasonable to invade and no borders to defend, the military had stooped to invent other creative methods in order to secure their lavish funding. These methods mostly involved picking off certain citizens that were "suspicious or unfit for society". However, rather than acting with the intention of being good Samaritans, most soldiers seemed more intent on being bullies. The military had some apparent need for power and gave the impression of enjoyment over the fear and dominance they held over the lives of ordinary civilians.

This is where Tino found himself, standing in front of a witch trial execution.

He was somewhat aware of the situation, after being briefed on the details about the person in question. The commanding officer had given him these details before he got assigned the task of guarding the site of the execution. It was an elderly widow this time, and she had apparently raised suspicion by simply having a habit of taking in stray cats to substitute her empty household. Of course the villagers had taken the whole cat issue as a hanging crime and she was automatically arrested with the apparent odd behavior. The alleged witch was not given a chance to defend herself and to tell her side of the story, just as with every trial and execution. He diverted his eyes. When the inevitable came and executioner set the pyre, he would rather not witness the excruciating pain of the victim as she painfully burned to her death. The sight was one far too atrocious for him to imagine.

As much as he would have wished to save the victim, who was probably innocent of any witchcraft, he knew it was useless to argue against the military. Tino wasn't a fool and he aware of the fact that he not have the manpower to make any difference and would most likely be throwing any effort in vain. He was taught to conform to the every will and command of his superiors. Questioning any of the officials may lead to dire consequences, as he had been warned. Tino would rather not risk the potential punishments, such as a painful whipping, having his shower privileges withheld for an indefinite amount of time, or even a dishonorable expulsion from the military itself. Whatever the case and situation may be, he would always be on the losing side.

Tino tried desperately to avoid these executions - and he had successfully gotten away with not attending the first few in his military career. Unfortunately this time around, he had no choice but to be on guard duty, as most of his other fellow comrades, who usually wouldn't mind the task, had decided to take the rest of the week off for leisure time instead. Tino, who had yet to take his turn, was automatically selected without argument.

He detested himself for being roped into this horrible act, but it wasn't as if there was much choice. After all, the military was the very key that opened the door to a bright future. Dare he say it, but it was his lifeline. It was due to this exasperating career, he was able to obtain shelter and proper nourishment each night. It had been the only reason lived a fairly comfortable life, rather than freezing outside in the Winter snow. Even though Tino was reluctant to admit, the military offered his only shred of hope for a decent living. The pay he received at the end of every week served as a wonderful bonus and allowed him to accumulate a small amount of savings, which he would use in the distant future and return back to his old home in Suomi. There it would be far more comfortable and free of these unjust prosecutions. Afterwards, he would expend the rest of his money for a decent education, and work towards a future profession devoid of violence and cruelty.

It was a joyous thought to the very least. A few years of this torment and he might just be able to escape and find himself in a much better predicament.

He scanned the crowd in front of him. They were the local townsfolk, who had gathered around to gawk, laugh and sneer at the alleged witch, as if it were a comedic street show. There were a good fifteen to twenty people in the gathering, a healthy mix of men and women, varying from early twenties to elderly. Their faces lit with delight and their eyes gleamed with bloodthirst as they mocked the woman on the stake.

Tino wondered who in their right mind would enjoy this gruesome plight of human suffering. 'Sick bastards,' he thought. These were the people responsible for the majority of the witch hysteria. They were the type to frame their business rival or the person they liked the least in order to initiate their trial and eventual fiery death for the purpose of their own enjoyment.

A short while later, the execution commenced with a speech from the announcer. It was mostly exaggerated to excite the crowd. He told them some ridiculous story of how the alleged witch had been hoarding cats - or as the announcer had described them, "satan's little servants," to do some irrational actions, such as subjecting the entire town under mind control. A wave of liveliness filled the air with synchronized gasps and laughter of the crowd as they bought into the story.

The pyre was lit and the air filled with the scent of smoke. Tino cringed and averted his head away from the scene. He thought pleasant thoughts, in an attempt to drown out the screams of agony from the alleged witch. He reminded himself of the enjoyable things he received for being in the military: the meals usually included meat during supper time, which was better than what the average person had. There was also the occasional free vodka, the warm baths, a comfortable bed every night, his paycheck.

That was about all he could come up with. Tino was disappointed he could count them all on one hand, as opposed to the many other things he disliked.

Meanwhile, the smell of wood burning had mixed with a new scent. It was indescribably dreadful, and bore a familiar reminiscence to death. Tino figured whatever clothing and human flesh smelled like after exposure to an open flame, this was likely it. His stomach turned in disgust and he swallowed, in an attempt to prevent the contents of his last meal from creeping up his throat.

Unfortunately, his plight caught the attention of another soldier.

"Ha! Would you look at that?" the soldier sneered towards him.

Tino scowled at his tormentor. Tim Mogens - a Nederlandse man with a knack for causing trouble, engaging in illicit activity, and overindulging in the local brothels.

"It looks like the little one can't handle a little heat." Tim laughed poking the soldier next to him in the arm.

Tino saw the other soldier turn towards him. Gilbert Beilschmidt, with his white hair and red eyes, had the pigments for albinism. Much alike his friend, Gilbert was just as notorious in terms of mannerism and ruthless behavior. Despite having unusual looks that were sure to raise suspicion and hatred, Gilbert was able to blend in perfectly with the rest of the ignorant army, whom were quick to persecute anyone that didn't fit into the norm.

"What's wrong little puffball?" Gilbert mocked. "Scared of the big, bad fire?"

Tino knew exactly what the soldier had been referring to - his short frame and cherubic face. He ignored the insult, not wanting to bother with such ill-mannered people. He could care less to impress them and Tino knew quite well the reason he was let into the military, despite having somewhat of a gentle, squeamish nature.

He had excellent sharpshooter abilities and was skilled with bow and arrow. Many were surprised at his unexpected talent, as his baby face indicated a tranquil life, away from the hazards of fighting. First appearances however, were quite deceiving, and Tino was the best shot in the entire town. Although he may lack in other areas, the moment he demonstrated his aptitude with various ranged weapons, Tino was given automatic entry into the military.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tino noticed Tim closing his eyes and scrunching up his face, in mockery of his terrified look. A couple seconds later, the two of them ruptured into laughter.

Tino let out a sigh before replacing his grimace with a fake smile. He wasn't going to give them anything to tease about. He hoped he pulled a convincing face. Already, he could feel sweat droplets forming on the left side of his face, as he struggled to maintain the facade.

"Now that's the spirit, little one!" Tim gave him a rough pat on the shoulder. "Now sit back and enjoy the show."

"I don't believe there's anything particularly enjoyable about this," Tino fidgeted, trying to hide his nervousness. He may not like the teasing but he wasn't going to pretend he enjoyed the atrocious act. "Burning at the stake is a slow, painful way to die."

Tino had never seen the process himself, since he avoided guard duty during executions whenever it was possible. Even during this time, when he wasn't able to dodge the shift, Tino had his head turned the entire time, avoiding the pain and torment of the witch in question. He had heard enough stories about the process to make up for it.

The freshly lit fire itself felt like a sweltering infernal. The wood burns and creates an choking smoke, making it hard to breath. Then when clothing catches aflame, the torment begins. Victims are helpless as their skin slowly melts away. From personal experience, Tino knew that holding one's hand over a fire for a second too long results in a painful blister, but burning at the stake is the same sensation amplified over one's entire body. The agony persists for an indefinite amount of time, until consciousness sluggishly fades away due to the excruciating pain.

"But that's what makes it more exciting, huh?" Tim spoke, tilting his head in an affirmative nod.

"I'd say otherwise" Tino protested. "It's a gruesome sight and certainly nothing to joke about, especially when it's someone's painful end being put on display for viewing purposes." He defended. Of course Tim and Gilbert were the type to find such gruesome acts entertaining. He wasn't going to lose his humanity, like the rest of the other soldiers did. He reminded himself that he wasn't going to spend his career here. He reminded himself that in a few years time, he would and away from this town and his tormentors.

"Well isn't that cute, puffball." Gilbert's large smirk stretched across his face. "Trying to be all sensitive and caring?" He stretched out his hand and poked Tino on the cheek. "Well tell ya what. You're going to have to toughen up that little face of yours if you want to survive here."

Tino was tempted to move his face towards the left, where Gilbert's finger would be pointed at his mouth instead, allowing him to give it a hard bite. In the end, he decided against it.

"Must I remind you, Private Väinämöinen," Tim apprehended, reminding him of their rank difference. Tino, with his short career of one month, was only a Private. It was the beginner's rank, to which he often found himself the subject of much teasing from hooligans such as Tim and Gilbert. Unlike Tino, Tim and Gilbert had each been in the military for around four years. During that time, both managed to receive promotions. Tim had managed to raise his rank up a notch and was considered a Corporal. Gilbert, more than likely due to the connection of his high-ranking father and younger brother, had recently been promoted to Sergeant. The two of them utilized any opportunity possible to shamelessly boast about the fact. "As you can see, we are the bigger fellows here, and wouldn't you say it's time to wise up and learn from your superiors?"

"I'd rather not be a bloodthirsty lunatic, thank you very much," Tino forced the smile back on his face. He had developed such habit, especially in situations where he found himself uncomfortable.

Gilbert took offense to the comment as his right eye gave a twitch, "Oi, we're not lunatics," he spat, "We're the one's who do all the work around here. It's thanks to diligent soldiers, such as Tim and I, that this town and all its inhabitants are even alive. It's our hard work that keeps everyone here safe, rather than murdered from these witchcraft human sacrifice rituals."

"That's right," Tim added, in defense of his friend. "We're the ones that follow orders, while you prance around being completely unhelpful and grumbling about the job. Who's not to say you're not secretly assisting the witches. Maybe the next person on the stake ought to be you."

Tino gripped the cross bow in his hand. It was loaded up with a round of bolts and ready to fire at his target in case the crowd acted up, or if the alleged witch attempted an escape. If he wasn't careful, there was a good possibility the bow could go off and send a stray bolt. Maintaining his smile, Tino wondered what would happen if his fingers were to "accidentally" slip and hit either Tim or Gilbert.

That scenario was only a fantasy in his mind. Had he had the courage to pull it off, there would be much anger and uproar among his entire squadron. He was unpopular enough already among his fellow soldiers, both for being a new comer but also for holding a different opinion about the witch hunts. Even if he wasn't overly vocal, he displayed it enough through his actions and everyone knew of his negative views about the process being inhumane and unjust. Thus left him with a high chance of what Tim had suggested and he would likely be next one on the stake.

It also wasn't the proper circumstances. The only time Tino ever found himself initiating a fight was after a good couple shots of vodka. It was only after the buzz effect of the alcohol had subdued any logical thinking in his head that he would be tempted to act out in irrational violence. Tino was not drunk so he continued his false, cheerful appearance and attacked with words, "It's called being a decent human being. Maybe you should try it sometime."

"Why you little," From the tone of his voice, Tim was irate. Subsequently, he grabbed a fistful of Tino's shirt and dragged him forward. "You think you can rattle me with your snobby little attitude? I'll show you how much of a 'decent' human being I can be!" he spat with mockery. With Tim's sheer strength and his own small stature, Tino felt his body being wrenched back and forth, through the air, as Tim shook him by his chest. He could hear the sounds of Gilbert laughing, amused at the sight.

The commotion had captured the attention of the crowd, wherein roughly half averted their eyes from the scene of the pyre, to ogle at the brawl that had broken out among two of the guards. Within the next moments, the other soldiers had caught onto the plight, their faces bewildered with uncertainty and unable to decide between breaking the squabble, or allowing it to commence.

Admits the soldiers stood Lieutenant Braginski, whose violet eyes sparkled in in the same manner, as if he'd suddenly witnessed the apparition of a long lost companion. "My, my. What do we have here, Corporal Mogens and Private Väinämöinen?" he spoke in a tone so playful, it felt eerie.

Lieutenant Ivan Braginski, the top ranking officer in the squadron, was the man in charge of all military affairs for the town. Much like the rest of his subjects, he was ruthless in his conduct and power hungry. Although he had the privilege to be absent, he had chosen to appear at the scene of the execution. According to the gossip'of his fellow soldiers, Ivan never missed them. For some unfathomable reason, he was always present, despite the fact that those reasons didn't seem to orient towards his dedication to his career. Instead, Ivan almost gave the impression that the true motivation behind his unfailing attendance were hidden psychopathic urges that could only be satisfied through the sights and sounds of human suffering.

With a wave of his hand, said man ushered to the group of soldiers, whom had taken a mild interest in the squabble, to return to their posts. Just as briskly they had gathered, the soldiers dissipated back into their positions. Gilbert followed suit, disassociating himself from the conflict.

Tino squeaked as he landed on the ground, flat on his back. Upon hearing the voice of his superior, Tim had released his grasp on Tino's shirt in manner so rapid, it had caused Tino to lose his balance.

"My apologies sir," Tim gave the man a salute before explaining himself. "But Private Väinämöinen here had disrupted the peace. I had no choice but to restrain him."

"What? That's not true!" Tino corrected himself before going too far. For a second, Tim's fabricated story had caused him to forget his formalities. "I mean, that is not true Sir! I had been minding my own business before Corporal Mogens started getting physical. I swear I have not touched him or disrupted anything, Sir!"

For a few seconds, Ivan's gaze shifted between Tim and Tino, before he spoke again. "Two completely different stories, da? I wonder who I should believe."

"I speak the truth Sir." Tim proceeded to defend his argument. "Private Väinämöinen has done nothing in regards to our witch irradiation mission here. He started causing a disturbance, so I performed my rightful duty by restraining him, Sir."

"No Sir," Tino pulled himself off the ground, dusting the dirt off his clothes before beginning his side of the story. "I did no such thing, Sir. Corporal Mogens had began taunting. I only defended back with language. Then Corporal Mogens started using physical force, Sir."

"This sure is interesting," Ivan's eyes held a strange glint. Tino felt a wave of uneasiness run down his spine. "I do not know who was the one that started the quarrel, but what I can tell that is the fact that Corporal Mogens did use physical force against Private Väinämöinen, da?"

"That may be be true Sir," Tim tried explaining, at a loss of words "But this was to keep Private Väinämöinen in line, Sir. He was completely out of hand."

"But you admit using violence against him, da?"

"Yes Sir, but it was out of necessity, Sir!" Tim gasped in surprise, seemingly disgusted that his superior would defend a simple new-comer over him.

"Da, I get that." Ivan responded and turned to Tino. "He had been physical with you. Did you fight back, Private Väinämöinen?"

"No Sir, I did not." replied Tino, equally as surprised upon the fact that Ivan may just be taking his side over Tim's. Perhaps his rotten luck today finally changed for the better.

"Well that's settled then." A strange grin appeared on the Lieutenant's face. "No supper for you tonight Corporal Mogens." Ivan adjusted his position to address them both at once. "I do not wish to see anymore arguing for the duration of your watch. This applies both physically and verbally - or your punishment will be much more severe. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir!" Tino's response was immediate. All he wanted was for guard duty to wished to return back to his residence, where it was peaceful and free of conflict. This had been enough trouble for one entire day.

Tim scowled before reluctantly giving the same response. Right as Tino assumed that everything was set and done, Gilbert had made his way back to meddle in. "If I may interrupt." he addressed to Ivan, without any notion of properly addressing his superior. "I witnessed the entire fight and Tino here definitely had been causing trouble. Tim did the correct thing by restraining him."

With his unexpected support, Tim found the courage to argue once more. "As you can see, Sir. I have been honest the entire time. It's Private Väinämöinen who has been deceiving you."

Tino bit his lip, knowing this would be major trouble on his behalf. "I did no such thing Sir." He defended. "Gilbert had also been there trying to pick a fight! That's the only reason why he knows! It's also why the two of them have sided together!" He wanted to say more but stopped himself. It was completely useless and would only make himself look worse. Gilbert stepping in and supporting Tim and his forged story would throw things out of proportion and against his favor. Tino knew that even though he had been the only one telling the truth, nothing he said would matter.

This time, the one with the amused grin was Tim. "Yes Sir. As you can see, we were the ones doing our job. All the while, Private Väinämöinen only causes problems."

"That's right, Sir," Gilbert added. "I saw the whole thing."

Ivan turned his gaze towards Tino again. This time, it had lost its gleam and instead, resembled more of a dangerous glare. "Well it seems like Corporal Mogens and Sargent Beilschmidt say otherwise. And as you can see, it is now two against one. I do not appreciate being lied to Private Väinämöinen. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"No Sir." Tino squeaked. He would've protested again, but the stern look on Lieutenant Braginski's visage was enough to keep him silent. Gilbert and Tim were firm and spotless with their fabricated story. Tino was aware that he had lost the dispute, simply because of Gilbert's presence.

Although Gilbert himself wasn't overtly impressive, his father was head General and overseer of the entire military. High ranked officials, such as Lieutenant Braginski, were infamous for behaving obsequiously, in order to maintain and gain status. Gilbert held a long listing of the people he preferred and detested and thus eagerly shared it with his father. Through Gilbert's threats and bragging alone, every soldier in the squadron was well aware. Over that fact alone, Ivan often coincided with Gilbert's judgement. Despite the difference in their status, it was Gilbert who had Ivan somewhat wrapped around his finger. Despite it being rather pathetic, Tino had learnt better than to fight against a system in which he could never win.

"I am very disappointed in you, Private Väinämöinen. I expected better from you, da?" Ivan's voice was filled with false remorse. Tino doubted the man truly cared about the well being and progress of his subjects. "Consider this your first strike Private Väinämöinen. Also in addition to missing tonight's meal, you are assigned mess duty for the next month. You understand?"

"Yes Sir." Tino gave a quiet response. The punishment was a burden, but he figured it could have been much worse. He'd only been given a strike and from what Tino was informed when he first joined, he could accumulate three strikes before he was officially expelled from the military. That was alright with him, as he hadn't planned on staying for long anyway.

On the other hand, no one in their rational mind enjoyed mess duty. Better known as "cleaning the kitchen," Tino had been unfortunate enough to be assigned the task once, and he knew from there on out that it should be avoided at all costs. At the end of the night, the entire dining room was a mess. The soldiers in his squadron were the messiest eaters Tino had ever seen. At least a few dozen chairs, and the occasional table were knocked down. Food stuck on the floor, walls, ceiling and other unimaginable places. The stains were tough and nearly impossible to scrub clean. Tying up the dining room alone generally took hours of precious time. In addition, right after the hall was cleared and prepared for the next day, there would be piles of dishes waiting to be washed.

As Ivan turned away, Tino saw Tim and Gilbert laughing, whist raising their hands and giving each other a quick pat of accomplishment. Sucking in a breath of air he forced a smile on his face yet again. Tino sure could not wait for this night to be finished.


A/N: Hello and thanks for reading. This is my first attempt at fanfiction in a long time and I have no idea how good or dreadful my writing actually is. Please let me know what you liked and didn't like.

Here's a couple of notes in case you are deciding if this story is worth your time or not. Although this setting is based on European witch hunts, it will not be historically accurate. I am writing (or at least trying to write) a historical fantasy.

See you next time!