World's Apart

Prologue

"So does anyone have a suggestion of how we can save the Kingdom?" asked a women with a gold diadem sitting atop her lush, ever green hair. Her eye's shifting between gold and ruby as she stared out at the council of immortal men and women on top of her golden throne. There was a murmur throughout the Great Hall, where the meeting was taking place, as immortals discussed amongst themselves. None willing to voice their ideas for fear that The Great Mother Earth would be displeased with them and they would lose her favor. All except for one.

"Great Mother, I have an idea", announced a boyish looking man as he stood up from his chair. He had solemn, dark, jade green eyes that were situated under thick eyebrows and dull, straw colored hair that gave the impression of once being golden and bright. The foolish man's name was Arthur Kirkland, and though he looked young he was one of the older immortals in the Kingdom of Ailatani, at the age of 2299.

The hush fell over the immortals as The Great Mother shot Arthur a cold, blood red glare. He sharply sat back down. "We all remember what happened after your last idea Arthur Kirkland. Be thankful you aren't dead as the law states you should be." Earth's eye's suddenly shifted into a dark blue, as Arthur lowered his eyes to the table. "I've had enough for today; the council meeting has been dismissed. We shall meet again in a 6 Yandini." With that Great Mother Earth gracefully roes from her seat and glided out of the room fallowed by several servants.

"Nice going eye brow's, you've upset The Great Mother, again", moaned a man with golden, shoulder length, blonde hair and piecing sapphire eyes. He stood up lazily with a yawn, getting ready to leave with all the other immortals in the room, and gave Arthur an amused glance. He always enjoyed getting Arthur riled up; now-a-days it was the only way of getting any sort of reaction from him.

Arthur stood up and stalked over to the man and venomously shot back low enough for only the man to hear. "Leave me alone Francis, you damn frog." His eyes grew darker with each word and sparks of dark green began spilling from his finger tips. He was NOT in the mood for the man's jibs.

Francis visibly swallowed as he glanced at the spermatic sparks. A memory flashings before his eye's at what power those sparks held. "What are you going to do about it? Kill me too?" As soon as he said it, he knew he had gone too far. "Désolé Arthur. I wasn't thinking when I sa…" Francis words died on his lips as Arthur froze up instantly.

His face that was contorted in rage became nothing more than an expressionless mask that, recently, he was always seemed to be wearing. His eyes became glossy with an untold amount of unshed tears. "I could never kill you Francis", he croaked as he turned away from Francis, "No matter how much I dislike you, I'd sooner take my own life than yours." At that last part Arthur's voice became strained, and before anyone could stop him, he rushed out of the room.

Francis and any immortals left in the hall, looked on as Arthur fled, most likely to return to 'the spot' for a few hours or days.

"That was low mi amigo. I don't think anyone deserved that." Came the voice of Francis's dear friend, Antonio, right behind him. Antonio normally had a consent grin on his face, his emerald eyes shining and his brown curly hair in constant disarray. But when Francis looked over his left shoulder to him, his normally tan completion looked paler and his eyes looked as downhearted as Francis felt.

"Antonio's right, that really was un-awesome Franny." Another one of Francis friends, Gilbert, piped in. Francis turned to his right; he was met with a similar sight from the albino man who usually was oblivious to these sorts of emotional things.

"Yes I know mes amis. I'm just so tired of seeing him so passionless, so dead. I miss the old Arthur. The one who laughed, cried, and fought tooth and nail with me or the stupidest things. I was just trying to spark some of that passion back. But when I saw him magic flaring up I got scared, no terrified, and said someone completely unforgivable." Francis lamented as he sat down in his seat in the now empty Great Hall.

"We know Francis. We know", responded Gilbert, as he put a hand on his best friends shoulder in a comforting jester. They all left the Great Hall soon after to go get a drink as they did after every meeting. But nothing the trio drank could soothe the memory of the incident, and the wounds it left on the hearts of many, from their minds.

Unbeknownst to them, the balm to their wounds was idly chatting with his friends in another realm. Walking towards the gate that he has no clue of, and towards the wonders and nightmares he will have to face once he crosses to the other side.

Translation: French

Désolé- Sorry

mes amis- my friends

Translation: Spanish

mi amigo- my friend

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Authors Note:

Hi! This is my first fan fiction and I hope you enjoy the story. This will probably end up being a multi-chapter fan fiction. I can't make any promises on updates but if I get reviews I might be willing to quicken the update of the story. ;)

Last but not least, I DO NOT OWN THE AMAZING CHARATERS OF HETALIA. (I wish!)