"The greatest gifts you can give your children are the roots of responsibility and the wings of independence." -Denis Waitley

1812

"Why won't you let me go!" Cerulean eyes glinted with anger and frustration at the empire in front of him. "I have gotten my independence, so why? Why England!"

Green eyes surveyed the man-boy calmly, for wasn't he always the levelheaded one? But however calm his exterior looked, the empire was burning with turmoil on the inside. The months and years following up to this conflict was inevitable, but he had hoped, he had always hoped, that the child in front of him would see reason. Would see reason, and come home. "Alfred..."

"No! Don't you dare call me that! Not after what you have done to me, to my people!"

His breaking point breached, the empire broke his composure and shot back. "America! Be rational about this. The world is a terrible and dangerous place, you would never survive alone. I will keep you safe. I-"

"No! I don't want to. I want my freedom!" Raising his rifle towards the empire's chest, the boy glared, unshed tears in his eyes and England felt the lump in his throat grow tighter.

"I will never stop fighting England. It doesn't matter what you do, I won't go back. Please, just let me go."

Just like that, the empire felt the fight gone out of him. Sinking to his knees, he moaned softly, tiredness and defeat mixed into one. "Dammit America, you idiot. You stupid, stupid child."

Watching the empire sink to the ground, America shielded the pain behind his eyes and laughed weakly, his victory guaranteed. "I'm sorry England, I'm so sorry..."

Dull green looked up to find the blue-eyed boy, desperation tingeing his voice. "Alfred, please, don't go..."

But he was gone, had staggered off to heal his wounds. Wounds the empire himself had inflicted. Groaning painfully, England cried in despair as the heavens started to pour, having lost one of the most important people in his life.

Stirring from his sleep, England opened half lidded eyes to the smell of bread and curry. Sunlight streamed through the open window, lighting up the cream-coloured ceiling. Donning his formal attire, the empire padded down the spiral staircase into the kitchen, stifling a yawn.

"Good morning England." A young girl stood over the tabletop flipping a wad of dough into the air. Giving it a few more steady tosses, the girl twisted her arm and flung the flat, near paper-thin sheet into the brick oven encased within the side of the wall with one neat flick. "The curry is ready. Help yourself."

"Good morning, my little lion."

The girl paused her motion at the mention of the affectionate nickname but then nodded stiffly, her naked feet continued to make muffled tapping sounds on the polished wood as she busied about.

Scooping up the curry into a bowl, the empire brought a few empty plates and cutlery out onto the modest dining table to wait for the girl. She emerged from the kitchen a few moments later carrying a plate piled high with crispy flat dough. "I hope you like roti prata."

Sinking his fork and knife into the crisp dough, England frowned as the girl opposite him tore into the dough with her bare hands and dipped it into the warm bowl of curry. "Singapore, your etiquette."

The girl drooped at his chiding but reluctantly picked up the fork. Sucking the excess curry off her fingers, she looked up at England challengingly, daring him to say something about her unladylike behaviour. Surprisingly, the empire frowned disapprovingly but did little else. Stuffing some of the warm bread into her mouth, the girl chewed slowly. He was in a good mood today.

Meanwhile, unknown to her, seasoned emeralds watch the young child thoughtfully, slight bemusement in flashing briefly over his eyes. There was something about the girl that made him want to sigh in frustration and scold but laugh at her childishness at the same time. Just like America, the empire thought melancholically. After the blue-eyed child left, he had shrouded himself in solitude and affairs of his country, unwilling to think about the act of betrayal and pain. Wanting to expand his influence, he had turned to Asia and the Middle East. It wasn't long before he gained a group of colonies all under his rule. Among them was a young southeastern island along the straits of Malaya.

Right at the beginning, he found she stood out differently from the rest. It wasn't just her strategic location of a port, or how her simple island had gleamed with spirit, life and peace. It only intrigued him more the moment he made her a port and let his people stream in. Sure, he had benefitted from her, but it was more than that. Sometimes the empire wondered how such a small island could contain such a mix of intermixing races and culture and not burst from their differing perspectives.

"I'm leaving today." He spoke quietly over the clumsy clattering of cutlery. The girl looked up curiously then, her inky-black eyes reflecting surprise. "To Britain?"

"Yes. There is trouble brewing in Germany. Nothing too serious of course. It won't affect you."

"Mm." Placing her fork gently on the table, the girl swung her legs childishly, mouth curling thoughtfully. "You will come back?"

Reaching over, the empire patted her hair, his features twisting to that of fondness, a hint of a smirk on his face. "Of course. Be a good girl till then, Singapore."

The girl smiled bashfully then and England chuckled, his thoughts quickly moving away from how she had looked so much alike with a certain American.

I won't let you leave me again. I'll protect you, promise.

1947

It had all started after the war. He had been stupid, so stupid. So arrogant into thinking that he alone could defeat Germany. He had suffered, and so had his colonies. India especially. The empire could still remember the horrific scars that had adorned the back of the Asian and how broken he had looked. He had remembered the blood and grime. He remembered almost dying. But then, he had been saved by the boy that had left so long ago. America had come with his ships and soldiers, cerulean eyes bright in the grim battlefield.

They had won then. The both of them and Russia. Pushed Germany back and flushed out the madness in him. At the end, America had turned to face him, victory on his lips and forgiveness on his hand. But he had turned away, the old wound still too fresh in his old wearied heart. But the worst had yet to come. His family was breaking apart.

It had been his own fault. He had been too occupied by the war in Europe and had neglected his colonies in the east and south. Japan had seized and struck then. He realised it too late when pain wrecked him as news from Hong Kong came that it had fallen. He tried to send what aid he could spare, but one by one, his colonies fell. He held on to the hope that Singapore could pull through. Alas, she was never his self-proclaimed 'impregnable fortress'. She had fought so valiantly, but even the strongest could not hope to stand against something so potent. And when he received the news that she had fallen, he had felt devoid of anything. There was only a constant, dull echoing ache.

Again, America had been the one to take charge, pushing the land of the rising sun back to where it belonged. It had been difficult; the cries and death of so many people were on his shoulders and the memory of the bombs would forever stay with him, but he had done it, fighting with the freedom he had long ago achieved. England supposed he should be thankful, but he could not find the strength to be so.

In the end, he had gotten his colonies back. But the damage had been done; they didn't trust him anymore.

After many years of constant warfare, he just wanted rest. But looking into the disappointed and resigned amber eyes of India, he thought anywhere else would have been a better place to be.

"I want to be free from you. I want my independence."

"You can't do this." Distantly he was aware of himself croaking the words out.

"I'm sorry, it has already been done. Your people have agreed."

No, he would not let it be this way. He can't lose anyone ever again. He cannot-

"Goodbye Arthur."

Too late, he had always been too late.

Satyameva Jayate

1954

It was hot and England felt a slight buzzing in his head. The empire-or was it former empire now, given how things are?- stood on the sandy shores of the Middle Eastern wildlands. A few paces from him, Egypt sat on the dusty ground, his keffiyeh pulled low over his head. They had been waiting for quite a while now, for the arrival of the final member.

Stealing a glance at the Middle Eastern nation, England contained his surprise to find Egypt staring back at him. His former colony held no definite expression, only a dull curious look that spoke volumes on their current situation.

"You are granting him independence." An unspoken question hung in the air. Why?

Scowling, the empire crossed his arms, jade eyes hard with tension. "You know why." Of course he did. They both did. Civil war was not something the both of them wanted on their hands.

"You will be doing a great disservice to him. He already has much on his hands."

"Not enough to want freedom." The word tasted bitter on his tongue. It reminded him of the pieces of his broken family. Of America and his blindingly painful grin. How he hated that word. So matter where he turned, it was always there, the concept seemed to mock him through the actions of his loved ones, drawing glee and pleasure from his distress.

Nodding to himself, Egypt fixed his unseeing eyes to the horizon, a brooding look on his face. "You are dying, Great Britain. But you don't seem angry about it." Another unspoken question.

"I have failed them." England started at the words that flowed from his mouth, surprised that he would spill his heart's secret and fears to a nation that had previously left him and also at how... resigned he sounded, as though he had already given up on returning back to the old days.

"They have every reason to want to go and I don't blame them. The least I can do is make sure they go prepared."

"Perhaps, but freedom is never a fickle thing. Maybe we just want a chance to really live and experience like you have done."

Blinking in surprise, England regarded the man in front of him peculiarly. Gradual revelation caused his pupils to dilate. "Egypt, you-"

"He's here."

From the far horizon, England could glimpsed a man approaching them. He wore a taqiyah, eyes hidden by shadow. A lone camel trailed behind him, pouches hanging by its sides. England thought he could glimpsed the pointed tip of a sniper rifle between the coils of rope holding the camel and its load together.

Egypt stood up beside him as the figure neared and halted. The empire steeled himself and hid his swirling emotions behind a mask of a cold smirk. Stepping forward, he opened his arms as a sign of greeting.

Grit your teeth and bear it.

"You took your time, Sudan."

An-Naṣar li-nā

1963

"Why are you here?"

The empire flinched from the cold tone in her voice, eyes fixated on the young girl in front of him. There was an air of maturity previously missing from her face and his could see a scar on the underside of her left wrist, a mark from the Japanese Occupation. She wore a white collared shirt-the sign of her newly elected party-and England could still see the fading henna marks on her skin. The girl from almost half a century ago had changed. In this moment, she reflected how America had looked that fateful day, rifle pointing to his chest. A dull feeling of nausea rose from the pits of his stomach.

Singapore lifted black eyes to meet his then, expression tired but hopeful. "Are you here to watch the merger England?"

"Singapore, please don't do this. You are too small, too young. If any happens, I-"

"Nothing will happen. I'm going to be a part of Malaysia, where I finally have a chance to make things right for my people."

"You don't have to, I can protect you."

"No." That one word, so harshly spoken, snapped England from his tirade. Singapore smiled ruefully then, strands of her brown hair interweaving with black and glinting under the sun. "I knew you would say that. You think I'm too small, too helpless, that I won't be able to survive, don't you? I know that, that's why I'm joining brother Malaya."

"I won't stay with you." The girl added, refusing to meet England's eyes. "You broke your promise, England. You weren't here when I needed you most. My people and I, we believed you, we thought you could protect us. We-I was wrong."

"I'm sorry." England whispered. Her words hurt, but they all rang true. He hadn't been able to protect his family and now they were leaving him. This was déjà vu all over again. Visions of America's pained, tear filled eyes plagued his mind. He had done that to all his colonies, driven them away.

Trembling, the empire placed a hand over his eyes, the other balling into a fist only to loosen when he felt smaller child fingers gently prying open his palm.

"Hey England, Arthur, it's going to alright." Singapore smiled sadly, onyx eyes brimming with tears. "I'll be successful, you will see. Someday everyone will look up to me."

"You silly, silly child." A single tear fell over his cheek. He, the former great British empire, who had not shed a tear for the leave of his previous colonies, had broken down over a tiny insignificant island port. England knew it was stupid, but somehow, her separation hurt as much as the events that fateful day on American soil. Perhaps it was because she was just a tiny island nation paving her way through the world or perhaps, it had been the way her voice had lit up with so much innocent eagerness and hope as she had spoke of her merger with Malaysia.

For the first time, England prayed if ever the girl's demise was to come, it would be a quick and painless one.

He did not want to see her fall.

Majulah Singapura

1976

It was getting easier now. After years of gradually granting independence to all his colonies, the former empire had found it easier to deal with the process. Granted, his house was close to empty now and he often experienced frequent bouts of loneliness, but it wasn't so bad. France would visit with other European nations sometimes and he still retained good relations with Australia and New Zealand. Although he would never admit it, he was grateful. Little things like this made the pain stay away.

Another thing that surprised him greatly were the number of his former colonies willing to build ties with him after their independence. Initially, he had thought that none of them would want to befriend their captor. When he queried France, the blonde had just smiled secretively before explaining.

"Angleterre, you would be surprised at the amount of humbleness the little ones have. They are not like us big shots who hold grudges for a long time, that era is over. They just want to do what they can for their people and survive."

Survive, wasn't that what all countries wanted to do? England scarcely remembers a time before he became an empire. Those were the days of the ancients and he had been just a child then, also surviving. Since when had he become so ruthless, so aged and broken? Being an empire had changed him. Power had changed him.

After the world war, America had ascended to become one of the world's top powerful nations. Then a power struggle had pulled him back into conflict with Russia. He still remembers the grinning nation going about their meetings with nuclear plans and territory. "Democracy and freedom!" America had laughed almost manically that he had scarcely remembered the young boy that had left him so long ago. Was that what being an empire do to you? Make you drunk on power and stake claims on things that don't belong to you? England shuddered to remember the time when he was like this.

On the other hand, the tiny island nation he had let go of a decade ago had kept her promise. Two years after her merger, England received news that Singapore had left Malaysia and established her own republic as a certified nation. "She won't make it." The world had thought and he had watch almost painfully as she dived into the civil unrest in her home.

But they were wrong. He was wrong. She had flourished and grown strong, just like she said she would. Together with her boss and his partners, she made stone rise from the ground. She gave education and trade, equality and peace. Drove the corrupted away and made an army of her own. Her people of colours were still uneasy, but they were slowly beginning to settle down. She was succeeding and the world couldn't believe it.

England smiled wistfully, both countries have been so dear to him in the past. Now that the things they were achieving were shaking the world, would they leave him behind? Forget him as though he was no more than a memory like he had done?

Another thought tugged insistently in the recesses in his mind. Better yet, was he the one that held their potential back?

The quiet creaking of the oak door signalled his return to the present. Seychelles poked her head into his study, her eyes full of quiet determination. England exhaled, the throbbing in his chest surfacing again. He knew why she was here. The elections were finally completed.

Seychelles placed the wad of official documents on his table before taking a few paces back. Clutching the sides of her navy uniform tightly, she eyed him seriously. "I guess this is it, England."

"Heh, you are free now. So go."

"Hey, don't be so uptight bushy brows."

"What did you call-"

"I'm going to miss you."

Halting, the former empire grudgingly close his mouth. He had been noticing a trend lately of his past colonies cutting off his speech. Quickly, Seychelles took this moment to continue. "I can't say I liked you since you took me from France but," and here the girl paused, amber eyes conveying gratitude. "I am grateful, for all that you have done to let us go. And though I can't speak from experience, I think everyone else is too."

For a long while England stared at the girl in stunned contemplation. Then he gave a grunt and turned away, confused and slightly puzzled from Seychelles' words. Upon hearing the door click shut behind him, the former empire placed a hand over his chest where his heart lay, astonishment lacing emerald eyes.

The pain was gone.

Finis Coronat Opus

1997

"After 156 years of colonial rule, I hereby declare Hong Kong as aSpecial Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China and free from the British!"

Cheers resounded as the red flag with the embroidered five-petal flower was raised into the air alongside the flag of the People's Republic of China. Throughout the streets, the cries of people hooting and whooping could be heard, mixing with the waft of roasted pig and dim sum as peddlers holler for potential customers and businessmen pause to take in the iconic moment on the various televisions on display in the street shops.

Sited at the back of the conference hall, England absentmindedly fiddled with the tie around his neck. Out of all his colonies, Hong Kong had been the last to leave. Every other territory he had had either already left or were too far for him to take care of. He was no longer the Great British empire, just Great Britain, the one that was.

Watching Hong Kong giving Taiwan a hug, the former empire sigh good-naturedly. He would miss the quiet Cantonese. But if the nation's previous night's invite to tour the city was anything to go by, England knew he would be seeing him soon.

Standing up, he made his way out of the building, exchanging the odd pleasantry while weaving through the crowd. It was only once he reached outside that he caught sight of them.

The man wore a crisp polished suit, his tie a dark blue that matched his lighter eyes. A cowlick stuck stubbornly out from his gelled hair. Beside him was a girl in her teen years. She was dressed half-formally, with pants covering her legs. Her eyes shone with wisdom and peace, a sharp contrast to her young appearance. A tiny half-smile adorned her face.

The man raised a hand, waving it comically at him. "Hey, England! Over here!"

Stunned, the Englishman could only mumble indistinctly, thus not noticing the American walking over to drape a shoulder heavily over his smaller frame until it was too late.

"Ow! Idiot, what are you doing! Let go of me!"

"Aha, sorry." America grinned sheepishly, lifting his hand and proceeding to fiddle with his suit. "You look well, old man." Since the iron curtain had fell to mark a stalemate against the remaining superpowers, America had gone out of his previously slightly mad craze. Now considered the world's strongest, he was currently working to forge and repair ties with the newly formed Russian Federation.

"Yes, you do." During their bickering, the girl had walked up to join them. Fixing her onyx eyes on England, she nodded respectfully. "Hello Britain."

The former empire smiled. "Singapore." Since her independence, the nation had come a long way. Having grown successful, she had been recognised as a symbol of equality and racial harmony all over the world. Reaching out to grip her hand, jade eyes slipped closed as he pressed a chaste kiss on her fingertips in a playful gentlemanly gesture, causing her to stiffen noticeably though the hint of childish amusement in her eyes stayed. Some things never change, hello again little lion.

"Hey, don't be a pervert old man!" He could vaguely hear America exclaiming in the background. Feeling a thump on his back, he released the island country's hand to face America in irritation. "What?"

"Great, you are listening to me. Okay, time to go!"

"Wha-" England let out a loud grunt as America grabbed him by his sleeve and pulled him along with superhuman strength. "Oi! That's fine leather! Put me down, where are we going?"

"Our bosses want us to talk about relations or something. So I suggested we go eat! Singapore agreed naturally right?"

Walking on America's left, the girl hummed in confirmation.

"You heard her, so let's go! By the way, I never got your name Singapore. Mine's Alfred."

"Hey, it's not polite to ask a girl that you grit!"

Smiling amusingly at the bickering allies, Singapore shifted her attention to mentally counting her home's economic market statistics.

And that was how the three of them went down the street, slipping into the reds of Hong Kong flags and disappearing into the crowds of people crying in joy for their

city's liberation.

A/N

This work of fiction is not meant to be biased in any way. I really hope this doesn't offend anyone or anything.

I was inspired, so this is the end result. This piece took me quite some time to do, as I had to do research on many of England's colonies. So worth it though. I am rather happy with this piece. (Nope nothing to do without me being Singaporean too, nope.) I also depicted much of the actual historical events and many political stuff using metaphors and other imagery. Many historical facts are also hidden inside. Go read them up or you might not understand. Say Singapore's nickname, for one.

Lol, this is really not a happy story. England goes through a lot of turmoil in here. But I gave it a nice ending, so I hope it will suffice. I wanted to do a comparison between how far Britain's colonies have come after achieving independence and I settled my focus on America and Singapore. The biggest and (one of the) smallest colonies, but both leave huge impacts on the world.

Don't worry for Arthur, he's going to be fine. Alfred and Singapore(I need a name for her. Hmm..) and the rest of his former colonies are going to cheer him up.

I own nothing but Singapore and Sudan as characters.

Notes:

Historial-(Lifted and edited from Wikipedia. Please correct me for any inaccuracies.)

Satyameva Jayate -Sanskrit; Truth Alone Triumphs. The national motto of India after it gained independence in 1947. The Indian Independence Act 1947 was as an Act of the Parliament of the United Kingdom that partitioned British India into the two new independent dominions of India and Pakistan. The Act received the royal assent on 18 July 1947, and Pakistan came into being on August 14, and India on August 15, as two new countries.

An-Naṣar li-nā -Arabic; Victory is Ours. The national motto of Sudan after gaining independence in 1954. In 1899, Sudan was administered as a British colony. Due to a looming great political instability, Britain and Egypt opted to allow the Sudanese in the north and south to have a free vote on independence to see whether they wished for a British withdrawal. On 1 January 1956, the Egyptian and British flags were lowered and the new Sudanese flag was raised in their place by the prime minister Ismail al-Azhari, marking the end of British and Egyptian control.

Majulah Singapura -Malay; Onward, Singapore. The national motto of Singapore after it gained independence from Malaysia in 1965. On 31 August 1963, Singapore declared independence from the United Kingdom and joined Malaya, Sarawak and North Borneo to form the new Federation of Malaysia. After much heated ideological conflicts between the two governments, the Malaysian parliament voted to expel Singapore from Malaysia in 1965. Singapore officially gained independence as the Republic of Singapore while remaining within the Commonwealth on 9 August 1965.

Singapore I chose to depicted as a young teen as the country itself is still rather young compared to others after also taking into consideration her pre 'founded' years. Singapore turns 49 this year. I tried to make her retain a little childishness to her character prior WWII.

Finis Coronat Opus -Latin; The End Crowns the Work. The national motto of Seychelles after it gained independence in 1976. Between 1794 to 1810, Britain contested control over the islands from France before succeeding and placing Seychelles under British rule. Elections were held in 1966 and 1970 before independence was finally granted in 1976.

On 1 July 1997 the transfer of sovereignty of Hong Kong from United Kingdom to the PRC(China) occurred, officially ending 156 years of British colonial rule.

America, Britain and Singapore all currently hold friendly diplomatic ties to one another.