Fanfic 1-
(Do not own Hetalia or it's Characters)

Prologue

Spain. Of all nations, he had claimed to have found new land. Of course, whether England truly believed that or not was up to him. 'That spaniard actually searched -west- to find Asia? What could he have hoped to accomplish? Surely this land he claims to have found couldn't be from there.

No, it had to be something else entirely. What am I thinking? There couldn't have been land over there right? Perhaps... Just perhaps... No, I can't risk going there and leaving my people can I? I need to make sure that bloody frog doesn't try anything.' England frowned, tapping his fore-finger on the table in front of him.

He was in a small house-made up of wood and stone. There were about three rooms-the one he was in now-the study, one up the stairs just opposite of him (the bedroom), and the one that opens up into a doorway just steps behind him. (The kitchen.) Sighing, he found himself getting up to his feet, pushing the stool he sat on underneath the table, and turned to the doorway. Exiting into a larger room with pots spread throughout the shelves. Wines aligned on their racks, right up against the walls from where he entered.

He casually reached his right hand down to grab a bottle of claret, when there was a knock on his door. His eyes flicked toward the sound, as he stood up straight, and walked towards it. Latching his hand to the knob to turn it, while having a force from the other side burst it open. Jumping back, he noticed this man was a soldier. He was gasping, with sweat beading down his face.

"The king... Would like a word with you..." He spoke between breaths. England nodded to the man. He had obviously been in a rush to get here, he wondered why. Did something bad happened that he was unaware of? "Thank you." Was all he said, as he exited the house, helping the man stand up, while closing the door behind them. After exchanging a few looks, the two parted ways.

Heading in opposite directions. England followed the path up to the castle where his king-King Henry the 7th was sovereign. Glancing at the guards, they all nodded in approval, and opened the gates. Allowing him access to the corridors of the castle.

By now, England was familiar with the building. He simply had to turn right, then turn left by the kitchens, then head straight. A large door stood proudly at the end. As the guards proceeded to allow him access, the room opened up into a massive throne room.

A table on each side of the room, trailing down the wall toward the other end of the room. Almost hitting the opposite wall. The windows that rose about two feet off the ground, were arched,
and reached up toward the ceiling. As England slowly stepped forward, he found himself approaching the powerful authority figure whom encumbered the throne.

"England..." He heard the man call. England dropped to his knees, his head low and eyes locked on the ground beneath him. "Your Majesty." He addressed him. He could feel the weight of the mans stare lock onto him as he spoke. "It has been a while, hasn't it? What do you have to report?" England flinched, racking his brain for something to tell his king. The only thought that occured to him was the 'new land.'

"W-well..." England studdered as he began. 'Perhaps I could tell him about it. After all, if it is real, we could gain many riches.' "Your Majesty, Spain has sent word that he has found new land out to the west. He claimed it was Asia, but I doubt that of all things. I wish for us to see it with our own eyes, whether it was true or not. To be able to bring back gold-and claim new territroy. Sure, Spain may have -found- some land, but did he actually settle there? Not to mention, if it actually was Asia, I could bring back many spices for you, your majesty." He finished. However, felt a colder presence in the room.

"Do you have proof of this?" England gritted his teeth. He was right. His king was questioning his loyalty. He could have sworn that his king was verbally asking 'and why do you believe the spaniard?' "He claims to have a map. Not to mention, the true possibility of the land actually being there. Think about how much you would gain, your majesty." He felt he was being a bit forward with this, but continued.
"You would be the richest king in all of Europe. No one could compare to you. Not the spaniards king, and not the bl-french king."

'Never speak to the king in that manner.' He thought in disgrace. "Well, England. You are right about one thing. The land could give us so much. But would there be a soul willing to take the risk?" England looked up for the first time. Meeting with the kings eyes. "Yes, your majesty. I would."

By sunset they were at the docks, arranging the crew. Being given one ship-one that was named 'The Matthew'.

As they loaded the supplies, England found himself drinking quite a bit of claret. To make up for earlier-as well as to calm him down. He was so anxious, he found himself shaking. He lifted the bottle in his left hand. It shook so much-England couldn't control it. He was going to be leaving his home and going on a ship-to a land that may not exist.

This may be the last time he sees it. It wasn't much later that he saw a group of people begin to make their way to board. His crew, he suspected. Clutching to the bottle, he slowly began to stand up, using his free hand to push down on the bench. Bringing him up to his feet.

He was quivering with terror-or had it been the overdose of alcohol-and could barely move without plummeting straight down to the ground.

Taking a deep breath, he began to attempt to move toward the objective. Only to drop the bottle as it slipped from his hands, with his body following soon after. The sound of gasps was all he heard, words being drowned out. The world was going black, and England could do nothing to stop it.

Hope you enjoyed this, it's my first Fanfic. Please do leave a comment if it appealed to you.