Chapter 1: World So Cold
"You've failed me."
A demented voice came from seemingly nowhere. A lone, sickly creature hovered in pitch black nothingness. The creature was an ugly beast; taut skin dark and grey like ash. Its beady black eyes were sunken in their sockets and darted around, looking into the darkness nervously. The creature had matted fur in places and moose antlers jutted out of its heads, one half way broken off from a previous battle it had not won. From the waist down was a phantom like tail, which was swishing in an anxious mannerism. From long, grey wrist bones with patchy fur were slender bones, burnt black, and claws with poison that could kill with a single deep scratch. The creature itself stank of blood and reeked of death and decay. Far in the distance, a fire like light flickered. The creature gave a submissive hiss but its posture remained upright and unwavering, trying to mask its uncertainty, "I have not failed."
"Then tell me who the one responsible for the failure on earth is and I will punish him." The voice glowered.
"Master…" the creature swallowed hard.
Both remained silent until the unseen one spoke again, "I gave you one simple job; only one. And you failed to even do that! You stupid beast! I knew I should not have asked a wendigo to complete such a hard task."
"Sir you don't seem to understand! The young American nation had figured out my tricks-" The wendigo was cut off.
"Tricks!"
"…He is truly not the easy one to be rid of. He is a master of the mind and soul, now."
"I see." The irritated voice soothed down into a softer one, "Then we should eliminate him by other method." The wendigo squinted in the direction the voice was coming from. The voice came in a cold sneer this time, "By dreams and illusions, my poor fellow."
The wendigo nodded, "The kitsune are creatures that fed on mind and soul and were dark pranksters. Which creatures are to aid me this time, sir?"
"You get no second chance, wendigo," the voice spoke.
The wendigo flinched, "But then who-"
"Not you," the voice interrupted, "Its time you meet your fate."
"Master..?" The wendigo called out. It was greeted by silence. The flickering light in the distance grew in size. Or it came closer. The wendigo couldn't tell. The light turned out to be a growing fire. It stopped its approach momentarily, making the wendigo squint and lean forward a bit. It let out a blood curling screech as the fire suddenly surged forward and engulfed the creature in a mass of flames; burning it until only ashes remained.
Another typical day in the American household; that's what today was. A blond, whose hair was the color of golden wheat, was sitting on his couch in his rather large household playing video games. His sky blue eyes were hidden behind rounded rectangle glasses as he focused on the screen, sniping off the enemy of whatever violent video game it was. "Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" He yelled as his pixel character was killed and the 'Game Over' flashed on the screen. Frustrated, the blond tossed his remote controller aside and got to his feet. The sound of baggy jeans scraping across polished wood floors was heard as the American plodded down the hall to go annoy his older brother. Not even bothering the knock, the blue-eyed blond barged into the room to find it was empty.
He pouted unhappily and decided to drag his lazy butt to the office upon hearing papers rustle. Sure enough, there was the American's older brother, sitting at a dark oak wood desk doing paperwork. The blond at the desk had dirty blond hair and dark navy eyes, as well as oval glasses that were sliding down the bridge of his nose. "Connor…" The younger whined, making the darker blond look up from his work.
"What?" The other answered gruffly.
"I'm bored," the younger stated bluntly.
"Alfred Jones you are fully capable of entertaining yourself," Connor replied, voice highlighted with a southern United States accent, "Besides, I'm busy."
"Dude, you're an ex-nation, what could you possibly busy with?" Alfred inquired, leaning against the framework of the doorway.
"The work that you refuse to do," Connor responded as he scanned over the multiple papers of trades and foreign policies.
Alfred pouted and walked over to the desk and stood on the side of the desk opposite Connor, planting his hands firmly on the desk. "Hey, I have every right to make you do all the stuff I don't want to."
"And why is that?" Connor asked, setting his pen down, turning his navy blue eyes to look into Alfred's sky blue ones fearlessly.
Alfred shrank back a bit. Although his pride would never allow him to admit it out loud, Alfred was always still a little bit afraid of Connor, even after the American Civil War. There was always that fear that the Confederate States would reform and rise again; and that was the exact reason Alfred was sure to keep his older brother and former enemy nearby. An Italian once told him, 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer' and that was exactly what Alfred planned on doing. It sounded like good advice to him. "Because," Alfred tried not to stutter, "I beat your ass in the Civil War and your land totally belongs to me now! And you live in my house! I could so totally kick you out on the street right now if I wanted!" But he wouldn't, and Connor knew it, too.
"Just because I live in your house under your rules doesn't mean I need to abide and follow those rules," Connor replied, wearing a smirk on his face.
Alfred gulped a bit. Why did he always feel so nervous when confronting his brother face to face like this? Oh how he wished he knew… Alfred sighed and stepped back, "Why can't we get along?"
"Maybe it's because you prefer the sense of forever ominous government and ideals while I'd much rather go along with limited government and truths. I do believe in the Declaration we wrote together and the Constitution we also wrote together said that government should have little to no involvement anyway." Connor snorted and stood up.
"You're such a pain in the neck," Alfred grumbled.
"Yes, I'm your pain in the neck," the Southern ex-nation replied smoothly.
"Damn right you are," Alfred stated as his brother walked around the desk to leave the room, "You're also my bitch."
"I beg your pardon, city boy?" Connor glanced over his shoulder at Alfred.
"Yeah you heard me redneck." Alfred shot back icily.
"No hablo Ingles," the older brother rolled his eyes, having no better comeback, and left the room.
Alfred growled and stalked after him, "Where do you think you're going?!"
"I," Connor replied, still walking, "Am going to my room to take a nap."
"You asshole get back here! I'm practically your master!" Alfred yelled, inwardly snickering at the irony in the sentence itself.
"Right and I am the rebel who doesn't give a fuck. I think we established this in a war a while ago." Connor continued to his room, closing the door behind him. Alfred snarled a bit before walking up to Connor's bedroom door and leaning on it.
It had been almost a decade since the event with the wendigo trying to corrupt the world and violently shred Connor into non-existence. The former Confederate had been an angel residing in Paradise ever since he had been murdered by Alfred in the American Civil War. From there, Connor had watched a cannibalistic creature known as a wendigo plot to plunge the world into darkness. The reason for the demonic being's targeting of Alfred was simply to get to Connor to seek vengeance for his own death as a human. After a battle had ensued, both had gone back to Paradise where they talked for a while before falling asleep, then waking up in the real world, problems resolved and the wendigo gone. Nobody had known where the creature vanished off to, but it wasn't causing problems, so it was the least of their concerns.
Now the two brothers shared a main house between Washington D.C. and Richmond – solely for the reason Connor refused to be in the heart of a nation that would reject him and that Alfred refused to be in the former capital of a rebelling nation. The two settled for building a home together an equal distance from both their capitals. All had been peaceful between the two, although Connor was slowly becoming upset with having to do all of Alfred's work all the time. He didn't mind every now and then however. But today, it seemed, Alfred was going to be extra annoying.
"Yeah well I think you should at least come out to the garden with me," Alfred pouted. A few moments later the bedroom door cracked open and Alfred nearly fell backwards but he caught himself. He spun around grinning and pushing the door open the rest of the way. Grabbing his older brother's hand, he charged to the back door leading to the garden, "I knew I could get you to spend time with me if I brought you out to the garden!"
"I just don't want you trampling my flowers…" Connor muttered.
"Because planting flowers is so very manly," Alfred teased.
Connor huffed, "I can grow more than flowers, you damn Yank. Like tobacco and cotton for example." Alfred threw a glare over his shoulder to see Connor smirking victoriously.
"I swear if you start growing tobacco here illegally I'm going to strangle you," Alfred snarled.
"And I swear if you get in another fist fight with Pablo I'll mess you up beyond repair," Connor shot back not missing a beat.
"Oh right, your pretty little Mexican boyfriend. Yeah, sorry," Alfred let go of Connor's hand when they got out to the lawn, "I'll try not to rip his dick off."
"Take that back, Yankee!" Connor hissed and tackled Alfred to the ground.
"Wow, aren't you sensitive?" Alfred commented as he wrestled about on the ground with Connor, grunting softly when he realized the older brother was almost as impossibly strong as he was.
"Well you don't like it when I talk about you being a tramp," Connor panted out, struggling to keep Alfred pinned under him, "Heartbreaker. How many people you been sleeping around with now? How come you ain't got any STD's yet, boy?" Alfred began to writhe in fury under Connor, "Every night you're fucking somebody new. Just in the last week it's been Francis and Arthur and Ivan and Toris and Kiku twice and even sweet little Matthew. My god you even tried screwing around with me. Are you seriously that needy-?"
"You're just jealous!" Alfred spat as he managed to wrestle Connor to the ground under him, "You couldn't get laid even if a prostitute came and begged you!"
"Prostitutes are low!" Connor hissed, "And you forget my values!"
"Your values are stupid! Waiting until after marriage to have sex! You know as a nation that's impossible! We have foreign policies to establish and trades to make and all that other nonsense-" Alfred was cut off sharply.
"And diplomacy, my darling America!" Connor taunted, mimicking a certain French nation.
Alfred snarled and turned the faintest shade of pink, "I was a growing nation that time, okay?"
"And apparently he was a great lesson teacher," the older blond snorted and pushed Alfred off, sitting upright.
"Damn right he was a great lesson teacher. Better than yours," Alfred puffed, also sitting upright, catching himself before he slipped into the in-ground pool.
Connor looked away a bit sadly, darkness shadowing his eyes, "You don't even know how true that is."
A sudden flash of remembrance crossed Alfred's thoughts almost painfully. Back when the wendigo had been attacking Alfred and the rest of the world through mind play, he and a few other fellow nations had gone into the depths of Alfred's memory, where, after the rediscovery of Connor and Alfred's names as children, it was revealed why Connor was the way he was. Constant rape and torture ensued for years on end until Pablo Rodriguez, Mexico's personification, found out what was happening and put an end to it, declaring independence from Antonio Carriedo, Spain's persona. At that point it had been well too late to reverse the damage that had been done.
"If I could change history for you I would have prevented that whole situation with Antonio. Then maybe we wouldn't have fought and the wendigo wouldn't have even existed," Alfred sighed.
Connor sent a glare in Alfred's direction, "You know very well why we shouldn't alter history."
The two were quiet for a while longer before Alfred stood up, "Come on, and let's get off this depressing topic."
"Yeah, you probably right. Don't do a man no good if he lingers on something long ago," the older brother agreed, standing up. "When are you going to cover up this damn thing?"
Alfred tilted his head, "The pool? Dude, it's only August! And it gets hot! It's hot out here right now!"
"93 degrees ain't hot. That's a blessing," Connor snorted, "110 plus is hot."
"Why do you want me to cover it up anyway? It's something nice and relaxing to go to when it's hot and humid and sticky. What's the matter, afraid of the water?" Alfred teased with a grin. When the older brother said nothing, Alfred grinned, "You're afraid of the water! Oh my god that's hilarious!"
"It's not a joke! I hate deep or fast flowing water!" Connor crossed his arms, "I was never taught how to swim and I certainly don't intend to try and learn now!"
Alfred snickered, "It's because most of the Southern population back then and now consists of blacks and Hispanics. Those two races hate water with a burning passion and most black people can't swim to begin with."
Connor rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "And here everybody's callin' me racist…"
"Come on I'll teach you!" Alfred grinned and headed to the pool.
Connor stubbornly shook his head, "No you damn Yank. I'm terrified of possibly drowning."
"Oh please," Alfred pulled his own shirt off, "I'm not going to let you drown in a swimming pool. And you'll have to learn eventually. Even the nations who live in constant winter wasteland or dry desert nothingness learn how to swim eventually."
"Err…no thanks… I'll stick to the mainland and continue to garden," the shorter male huffed and began to head over to the flower beds and kneel down, beginning to pluck weeds from the mulch.
"And what are you going to do with the rest of your existence? Every nation has a job. We all get special government issued ID's and our birth slash creation year isn't required, just whatever quote 'birthday' month and day we put down. And if questioned by the public, we slip them a piece of paper the government assigns us to show those in question. So everybody works somewhere! Like I'm part of the United States National Guard, and Gilbert is part of a popular band in Germany. Lovino, Veniziano, and Antonio run a little bed and breakfast place with entertainment other nations come in and provide or to show off their talent. We all do something based on a special skill we all have." Alfred explained.
Connor sighed, "I guess I still haven't found something I'm good at. I'm too opinionated for politics and I don't agree with your entire government system to begin with. Forget the fine arts like music or art or drama. I just hate people in general."
"Why not become a writer then?" Alfred suggested, walking over to the patio and laying down on the hammock.
"I'm not handy with a pen and paper. My grammar, vocabulary and such needs more…getting to know modern day English terms." He tugged at a particularly stubborn weed.
Alfred sighed, rocking back and forth slowly with one foot on the ground, arms across his chest, "I'd suggest an avionics mechanic or computer engineering or even drafting and design but you hate people and technology. Anything medical is out of the question. Hey," the sunny blond sat up, "How about law enforcement?"
Connor paused in struggling with the stubborn weed, "Law enforcement? You honestly think that's the best route to go?"
"Well they're also hiring in the government's science lab in nuclear technologies to help advance weaponry," Alfred shrugged, "But that's a lot of math and science and yuck I can't make that shit. I only know how to fire them and reload the ammo. But hey, maybe that's your thing; it certainly isn't mine."
"I'll think about it," Connor muttered and went back to struggling with the stupid little weed. When he finally pulled it out of the ground he looked at its massive root system, "What about eco-science?"
"You could probably do that," Alfred yawned. Connor sighed and tossed the weed aside, fixing the mulch before moving on to pull out more weeds. It was comfortable silence between the two until Connor finished tending to his garden. A robin perched on a branch of the small magnolia tree and the blond sitting on the grass in the shade watched it for a while. By the time the evening rolled around, the robin had begun constructing a nest in the tree.
"There's rumor floating around that Gilbert and Lovino are starting to flicker in and out of existence; because there's no need for either of them anymore. Ludwig has got all of Germany unified and Veniziano's got all of Italy unified. There's simply no need for an eastern Germany personification or a southern Italy personification anymore." Alfred spoke out of nowhere.
The elder brother didn't reply, only getting up and brushing himself off to go make dinner. Alfred remained in his hammock until Connor brought out a plate of food to him. They ate in silence on the patio under the open starry sky, each lost in his own thoughts. The silence became awkward when dinner was finished and Connor cleared his throat, "Pablo asked me to visit for a couple days."
"How long are a couple days?" Alfred scowled. Damn the Mexican always stealing his brother away! Okay, maybe Alfred was being a little possessive and protective (though mostly wary and defensive) of his older brother but still! You can't trust Mexicans! That was always Alfred's reason when asked why he disliked his southern neighbor.
"I don't know. I should be back anytime during the first or second week of July though. Leaning more towards the second week," Connor replied.
Alfred gripped his fork tightly, "He's really got the nerve to call you to his home during me and Matthew's birthdays?"
"Oh relax, Alfred, it's just this one year I'm missing your birthday. You almost always forget mine," the older brother commented.
"What does he want anyway?" The younger demanded, his fork starting to bend.
"His boss thinks it is best if American and Mexican relations improved; and since I know you won't do it, I'm going instead."
"Right and does that mean going at it like rabbits for weeks on end?"
"You're infuriating. It means that I go there and he tells me about the progress his people have made and what needs improving; looking at how buildings are and how the government is structured, business like that. Though knowing him it will probably turn into me being dragged around like a tourist," Connor sighed, setting his dish and silverware on the table nearby. "My flight leaves at seven in the morning; I'll see you when I get back." With that, the elder brother got up and left, intending for Alfred to take care of the dinner dishes tonight.
Upon arrival in the airport in Mexico, Connor (after going through the usual airport business security crap with passports and all that fancy jazz) easily located his friend and fellow nation. However, due to what the other nations called "Alfred's identity crisis", the nations had developed a sort of greeting to be sure the person they were talking to was actually a nation of their world, not a duplicate. After walking around the barrier, the blond gave a small nod of acknowledgement.
"It's a great season we've been having. By far the most important season, wouldn't you agree?" the taller male asked.
Connor shook his head, "All the seasons are important in their own way, each one is unique."
"As are the nations of the world," the brunette grinned and pretty much tackle-hugged the blond. "Hey yeah I know you're probably tired but it's only a one or two hour difference in terms of time zones so I thought before we do all this stupid government business we should hang out and I'd take you to do some tourist-y stuff."
The younger nation pried Pablo off him before answering, "Are you serious, Pablo?"
"Come on we can drop your stuff off at my place then we can go into town and have some lunch," Pablo replied.
Connor was about to protest again though the pout he was given made him sigh, "Fine…"
"Yes! Come on, let's get moving then!" The older gave a victory smirk before grabbing the handle of a suitcase in one hand then grabbing Connor's wrist and marched towards the exit, dragging a reluctant American behind him.
"Okay I know you said we were going to do things tourists do but is seeing a silly fortune teller really on your bucket list, oh mighty tourist?" Connor asked sarcastically. The pair had eaten a quick lunch in a small, local café and was walking around an old Mexican city when they turned a corner onto a pedestrian street. The street was lined with all kinds of small stores and currency exchange shops, thought the purple tent with gold trimming caught the nations' eyes; a sign outside saying walk-ins were welcome.
"Hey, this might be my country but I don't always have time to interact with my people. Showing you around gives me an excuse to do so!" Pablo grinned and dragged the blond into the tent.
Connor was expecting the stereotypical old lady in front of a crystal ball who already knew who they were when they walked in, but was rather surprised to see an old man in front of a crystal ball who probably already knew who they were. A young lady wearing too much make up approached the pair with a coy grin. It was rather hard to miss she was trying to be seductive…key word being trying. The dress she wore made her breasts practically spill out over the top and her dress was so tight it made her backside look too big to be normal. Connor shuddered. Gross. She walked up to him, hips swaying and giving a toothy grin, "Its rare to see Americans in this part of town."
Pablo gave a slight glare and hooked an arm around Connor's waist, pulling him closer, "He's involved with someone else."
The lady looked about to give a sharp retort but wandered back into the room she came from. The older man sitting behind the crystal ball chuckled and motioned for them to come closer, "Don't mind Adriana, she always does that to young American men who come here. Come, come, have a seat! It is an honor to be in your presence, you two."
The nations exchanged a quick glance before Connor shrugged Pablo's arm off and went to sit across the fortune teller, his friend sighing and sitting next to him. "I am the fortune teller Caton. I must say it is both odd and wonderful to find the nations of Mexico and the southern United States here." He waved a hand with a small smile, "No matter, I will proceed as normal."
Holding both of his hands up in front of the crystal ball, closing his eyes, and focusing on something distant; the room was silent as Caton concentrated. He clasped his hands together slowly as he opened his eyes again, "I see a growing friendship between you two, though between your countries there is still much uncertainty and instability. The relations between your countries will probably never change, but that does not mean you cannot improve personal relations as individuals." He smiled briefly but sighed and rested his hands and arms on the table.
Caton's expression turned worried, "A word of caution. There is no immediate danger to either of you, your peoples, or your countries. Though the actions of another can be life altering….or even life ending. Connor, you must not let your boss attack another one of your kind without another member of the G20 to aid you and Alfred; the results could be disastrous; not only for the United States, but the rest of the world as well." Connor shifted a bit uneasily as the fortune teller continued, "Pablo, I fear a plague or even mass hysteria will break out in the near future. You will need to convince your boss to keep rumors and uncertain information away from the public. That is all I can tell you at this time."
"Gracias, señor," Pablo thanked him as the two stood and exited the tent.
As the pair began walking away in uncomfortable silence, Caton ran out to them, "There is one more thing. I was just reminded of a dream I had a long time ago. You must stay away from the man with the raven and adder! Do not fall for his treachery! Beware this man and his copied minions." Ignoring the curious and shocked glances from both the nations and the public, he hustled back to his tent, seeming edgy.
"This is exactly why I don't like psychics and people of that sort that do this kind of thing for a living. They get you all worked up over nothing and you spend the rest of your life paranoid about something that's never going to happen," Connor rolled his eyes and turned to continue walking.
Pablo followed after a bit nervously, "I don't know. He seemed to mean what he said. I'm not sure about all the stuff he said in the tent, but what he just said sounds like we should be concerned about whoever this stranger is."
"Who is honestly stupid enough to waltz around with a pet demon bird and poisonous snake?" The blue eyed male huffed.
It was almost as if he had spoken too soon. The pair came to an abrupt, dead stop. A store or two down was an outdoor bistro, and one of the customers was staring at them intently. He was tanned, his long chocolate brown hair slicked back and an intense green gaze. Even from a distance it was evident he was well muscled. A scar was on his left cheek. On his right shoulder a raven was perched, also watching them carefully. And coiled loosely around his upper left arm and shoulder under his jacket, peeking out, was something that could only be identified as a snake. The man gave a smile, though it was anything but a friendly smile. It was more of the kind of smile that screamed "I've found you, now let the games begin."
AN:/ Yooo what's up my awesome readers?! Been a few months now, huh? I honestly can say I had a great summer; I went to Europe! But then I came back and school. Argghhh. Anyway! It was right about this time I started the prequel to this. Though it was September 12, 2012 not September 2013! Wow if I could write that much in reverse days...I'd have to be a time lord. So the first story was aptly named "Eagle's Freedom", in which you later found out why because of the character it revolved around. You should also be familiar with the title of this story provided you read the first one! Take a wild guess about who this story will feature as the main character /wink/.
To be 100 percent honest, I wasn't even sure if I was even GOING to do a sequel. I started off by filling a request for AmeCan smut but then I started getting more ideas so I scratched out all the Matthew and began to develop this story. And still, I'm not sure I want to go through with this. Compared to the first story, there will be a significant lack of a plot. There's still going to be a huge plot, but if you're expecting something totally mind blowing and brain cell exploding like the last one, I'm afraid you won't find that in this story. I won't give too much away if I decide to write it out and people want to read it, but the main characters are going to Pablo and Connor and this mysterious stranger with a raven and adder. The plot...all I'm going to say is it involves lots and lots of alternate universe jumping. Oh and my flawed attempts at throwing romance into the plot. I hope you're all cool with MexicoXConfederacy. I mean its OC x OC, so I really don't see a problem there. And its not like SiberiaXBrazil. Did I type that publically oops oh well. ((By that comment I mean MexicoXConfederacy can be considered historically accurate to some degree.))
I think Alfred's line in retaliation to Connor is my favorite part about writing this chapter. Pft. "You couldn't get laid if a prostitute begged you." That's like the best thing I've ever come up with. Shows you how boring I am xP Oh also! When Connor mimicked Francis about Alfred learning diplomacy, that is a reference to 'Unwritten Rules' by JediShampoo here on Fanfiction. Its a good read if you like M rated FrUs :3
Please review making me aware of any grammar/spelling mistakes and errors! Also please tell me what you liked or didn't like about this chapter, and if you'd be curious for me to pull through with this! If you're going to flame please make it constructive :)
Until next time...maybe...
Love, Alex
P.S. As for why the cover of the story is what it is...you'll figure it out in due time if this pulls through.