Author's Note:

Firstly, I would like to formerly apologize for not updating my Hikaru and Kaoru multi-chapter fanfictions, but I'm afraid to say I've lost quite a bit of muse on them, so please be patient with me.

This is my first Hetalia fanfiction. Also, I use quite a bit of latin in this, of which I am not skilled in, so please forgive me if I butcher it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, because if I did I would be swimming in my own awesomeness instead of writing fanfictions. The awesome owner of this series is Hidekaz Himaruya.

Vendolius Abbatia, 1752, "I was born…"

I was merely an infant the first time I let the hand of Lupe touch me, and even then I felt her spirit encircle me and cradle me near her starry bosom as my own mother had before her departure that morning. It was rumored that the abbas who held me could be heard murmuring the same word repeatedly as he laid me in the pool beneath Luna herself: mactabilis. It does not take a wise man to seek the deeper message behind that word; the abbas expected great things for me. I had taken a life at such a premature age, as death in childbirth was still death none the less. I was born lethal, deadly, a murderer. Our clan, the clan of Vendolius, celebrated beneath the spirits of Lupe and Luna alike that morning until Solace took his throne at dawn. My hands were then supposedly washed in the blood of a hostage as tradition insisted they be. Once I was cleansed and dressed in proper robes, I was finally handed off to my father as an assassin in training. The word mactabilis imprinted itself upon me from then on.

I was a prodigy from the moment I attended my first lesson. Religion and the history of Gandavum, the proud country in which we all are born, were the first subjects fed to us. Myself and the other children devoured the knowledge like starving wolves, although I was the only one to truly excel. I can recite the Gandavum pledge at this moment.

Heil King George,

Our beloved crusader,

Heil Queen Caroline,

Keeper of the King's Colors,

And may their conquers,

Doused in blood,

Be forever victorious.

Being a clan of assassins, an outsider may find our support of The Royals as counterintuitive. Although, as unlikely as it seems, his lordship supports us with every farthing in his pocket. Rumor has it that he established the Vendeuils originally to settle a score that arose from a botched gamble. King George and Queen Caroline share our belief in the goddess Lupe as well, and her nocturnal companion Luna. It was quite a proud day for me when I befuddled my simple-minded classmates with my natural ability to memorize every detail – every smidge learned to us stored in my mind. When asked what animal form Lupe most commonly took, I confidently answered that she always took the form of a wolf when speaking with mortals, thus giving her the name Lupe, a derivative of lupus. And again, when asked what form Luna took in the mortal world, I answered that she revealed herself as our glorious moon with a knowing smirk on my face.

My mother was an assassin, an incredible feat for a woman back in her time, though not so much anymore. Not everyone in our clan of assassins actually holds the title for which it is named. Many of the women are healers, a task not available to men, and then some are looters. Being a looter is not a proud job, as it is usually a backup plan for those who cannot handle the life of a true killer. Looters live in the unkempt chambers of our estate, feeding on the scraps of those who master their crafts. An abbas is a holy servant of Lupe in Vendolius Abbatia, responsible for all sacred rituals involving all ages of clan members. My mother was blessed by an abbas when she was a little girl. My father told me she had returned to her parents earlier that month with blood in her golden curls, and when questioned on it, she had pointed excitedly to the woods where she had made her first kill.

My father says I look like my mother. He once pulled me aside during my physical training and handed her lucky bow to me, whispering, "Arthur, take this weapon and live your destiny through it. When I look into your eyes, emerald as your mother's were, I see her fierce spirit begging to be released."

My name is Arthur Kirkland. I am the son of Alice Kirkland, and like her, I am a proud assassin for the clan of Vendolius.


Vendolius Abbatia, 1775, "It has begun…"

The winds rustled the leaves on the trees overhead, making it a noisy afternoon. It was a hot summer day in the month of Jûlius, but beautiful all the same. The flowers were in full bloom throughout the fields and forests that made up Vendeuil territory. I especially loved the roses, the way the accentuated all beauty without perfection since their long, vibrant green stems were adorned with thorns. I had written many poems on the roses, metaphors for humanity, for women and men, for me. They symbolize so much; it's no wonder that Queen Caroline enjoyed them so. I could only imagine being able to have a garden of my very own…but that was a weak thought. I wasn't out to look at flowers, but for a different breed of enjoyment. I crawled through the brush, the sounds of the canopy high above me masking my every step. My silver dagger was tucked securely away in my boot, although my exuberance was slightly subpar with the reminder that I did not have my bow. It would have been too much to handle in a situation as delicate as this, so I left it in Onyx's saddle.

I stiffened at the sharp crack of a twig and consciously bent lower until I was practically inhaling the fresh soil. My breathing slowed to soft puffs, and I continued forward. I felt I was fairly well-hidden in my coat and greaves, viridis in colour to match my hunting habitat. This wasn't a regular hunt. It wasn't for survival, more for pleasure. This was the sport that made my heart, dark as ash, pound in the most thrilling manner. I smiled as I heard another bout of movement to my right, quick and panic-stricken, suggesting a fearful retreat. I would not have it. Unsheathing my dagger I braced myself, taking two or three deep breaths before advancing in this heart-stopping new game of cat and mouse. My own footsteps were now equally quick and noisy as my prey's had been, this time in an eager pursuit instead of a cowardly retreat. I allowed myself to straighten enough to where I wasn't squatting the entire time; it made it easier to see the path my prey was taking as well as giving my aching knees a slight relief. I saw a lock of auburn hair flutter from behind a boulder and grinned savagely at the prospect that I had cornered another human being.

I bit my tongue to withhold a squeal of delight and purred when I felt the rust tickle my taste buds. Delicious. Everything about this moment was simply delicious. I could hear the desperate panting of the person on the other side, and as I continued to slither toward the boulder, I found that my own breathing was also quite unsteady. I paused, closing my eyes to all the beauty around me that had suddenly turned red in my predator's daze, and inhaled deeply. To my alarm, before I could exhale and reopen my eyes I felt warmth brush my side and continue its mad dash behind me. I opened my eyes with a growl and made a half-turn, throwing my dagger in the direction of the movement. I could feel my eyes gleam in satisfaction at the horrified yelp that accompanied my throw, and my feet practically walked for me in the direction of the yelp. Sure enough, I had trapped my prey.

"Damn Arthur," Toris gasped, struggling to regain his composure. I beamed in triumph when I saw that the blade had pierced his own coat by the sleeve, pinning him to a random tree. "You weren't kidding when you said you would make practice interesting." He knew better than to yank his arm, as it would tear his coat, and instead resorted to looking at me helplessly. I shrugged and grinned at him, reaching forward to unpin him from the tree, although I quite enjoyed the way he looked so scared and vulnerable. It made the taste of victory all the more sweet.

"I don't kid around, Toris. Honestly, you should have been prepared for my level of training." Toris rolled his eyes and held his left arm possessively, probably realizing just how lucky he was that I was an excellent shot. Toris and I had trained together since we were children, and I wasn't ashamed to say that he was one of my best friends. There was something about him that was so opposite of me…it instantly attracted me to him, not in that way. Yet still, he almost flunked out of training and became a looter, but because I had such a keen interest in him I managed to convince Roderich, leader of the Vendolius clan, to keep him in my class. His innocence added a taste of refreshment to my life. Even being around him almost made me feel, well, normal. It was odd, but a good kind of odd.

"Yes, I suppose I should have," then he smiled shyly, "but you can never tell with you, Arthur. You've been kind of out of it for awhile now, I thought that maybe I would have some sort of a chance. Besides," he pointed to where I held my dagger, "you don't have your bow. If you had, I would have soiled myself." I only sighed and turned away, returning my silver weapon to its rightful place in my boot. I stretched and soundly fell into a sitting position on the ground, beckoning for Toris to do the same.

"A bow would have been too much of a hassle. And you know very well why I've been out of it." I could see him visibly flinch as my tone turned serious. "What with Gilbert trying to pry the spot of leadership out of the hands of Elizabeth's father, it's a wonder she's agreed to marry that bastard."

Roderich was very protective of his daughter despite the fact that she was a very capable assassin. Even I became slightly nervous when training with her; she was stealthy and unpredictable, a deadly combination. Her mother, like mine, had also died in childbirth. She had been gifted from the start. Still, Roderich would insist that she needed protection, and so he called one of the older, more experienced assassins to ask for her hand in marriage. He basically signed his daughter off for protection when she didn't even need it. Gilbert was a bloody wanker if I had ever seen one. He was boastful and pigheaded, and had been in competition with me from the start even though he had been out of school long before I finished. There was a time when he threatened to slice me open from the genitals up for apparently being in love with Elizabeth, the item of his affection. I had simply brushed it off with a snort. Liz and I were too alike in ferocity to ever be a harmonious couple. I only regarded my gorgeous ally as a friend, nothing more would ever come from it.

Toris nodded at my previous statement and bowed his head slightly. "That and you're getting antsy because of the Rouen," he added.

"Bloody Rotomagense clan! Need to stay in their own damn territory before I castrate every last one of 'em," I could feel my face glow red with hatred. Rotomagense was our rival clan. Led by Alexander, they had taken it on themselves to rid the world of our fearless leader, King George, and his family. They claimed that he was overtaxing the people and complained that the number of executions had shot up grotesquely since his succession to the throne. They stormed our land and annihilated many of our assassins, and we had done the same to them. We often met them in battles closer to the City of Royals, however, when they would attempt to assassinate the Royals and we would swiftly step in and put a stop to it. There had been some close calls though, much too close. But Lupe is always watching.

"I agree," he mumbled quietly. My emerald eyes instantly met his azure ones and I was surprised to see a hint of sadness in them. My mouth slowly closed in a silent understanding. Toris didn't want to fight. He didn't like violence very much, obviously one of the reasons why he didn't excel in our craft. I pitied him as he was unfortunately born in the wrong place at the wrong time. This was the life he would have to lead from this moment on, and if he couldn't handle it…I shuddered at the thought of what our clan would do to him if he just decided that he wanted to up and leave one day. I would have to prevent that from happening. I vowed at that moment that I wouldn't let any harm come to Toris.

The thundering sound of horse hooves behind us startled us in our somber silence, and I found myself instantly reaching for my knife before Toris' hand gently settled on my shoulder. We both stood as members of our clan rode toward us, having apparent trouble clearing through the thick brush. I realized then with a twinge of guilt that we must have been out longer than expected, forcing them to come looking for us. By the way Toris frowned, he had surmised the same.

Atop the lead horse was Yao, one of the top assassins, and one of the bossiest. His ponytail was like a mane itself, and I briefly remembered how we used to compare him to his horse when we were young and immature. We wouldn't dare get away with that now, let alone try to crack a joke about Yao's hair. I scanned the others behind him for any sign of Gilbert, and sighed in relief when I realized he was not present in the search group. Although, Toris' close friend Feliks was. He didn't look so irritated as he did amused, probably waiting for us to get in trouble. That was just the way Feliks was, a dirty rat, but a fairly trustable companion; fierce fighter too.

"You have been out for far too long; we almost thought you had been captured," Yao hissed, dominantly using his horse to nudge us in the middle of the group. "What did you think you were doing?"

"Training," I snapped back, "in our own territory." I felt Toris grab my sleeve and yank on it, gesturing for me to stop arguing, but I couldn't help myself. Yao just really grazed my knife.

Yao seemed to notice the gesture and turned to where he was glaring at Toris. I faintly heard Feliks snicker in the background. "Hey, you got something to say you say it to me, got it?" With that he turned his horse back to the others and proceeded to plow his way through them as he had with us. Feliks pulled the reins on his steed, allowing Yao to get through while grinning at Toris devilishly. "Come, now!" he ordered, not turning to look at us again. Toris and I looked at each other hesitantly, his eyes unsure and mine probably really ticked off. Finally I shrugged and took a deep breath before padding behind the others. Toris followed me in defeat. I was sure that he had wanted to stay and train longer, but it seemed that more training would have to wait for another day. My eyes travelled to the sky that had mysteriously turned gray and ominous. Exactly when had the beautiful scenery been conquered by storm clouds? I don't recall, but then again, I had been too lost in my thoughts. I watched the ground as we walked, noticing as tiny dark spots began appearing in patterns over the dirt. I tilted my head up and, just as I originally thought, a giant raindrop landed in my eye. My sleeve had barely brushed the droplet away before Yao was hollering at us again to move our feet. "You're going to be walking back to your chamber Kirkland, since we confiscated your horse quite awhile ago." I cursed under my breath, hoping for their sakes that they didn't perform any funny business with my bow. Otherwise, there would be hell to pay.

"It's starting to rain," Feliks called jokingly. "Wouldn't want you to melt."

I heard a faint squeak behind me and mistook it for Toris being startled by the mention of rain. I raised an eyebrow and looked back at him. Surely he wasn't so timid that he was afraid of a little storm? I instantly regretted turning around though, because when I saw Toris he wasn't facing me, but the direction from which we had just came, and his face was pale as if he had just seen a ghost. My gaze travelled to the highest point of the wood and settled on a figure watching us…in familiar red shrouded armor. He seemed to panic when he realized that we saw him, but I was too fired up to turn away now. This was one piece of prey I would not go easy on. I kicked my leg in the air, feeling the cold metal slide out of my boot and fly into the air, catching it in my right palm as sweat settled on my brow. No dirty Rouen was going to leave my territory alive.

I dashed for the intruder, hearing the shrill scream of Toris behind me, and then the pounding of hooves as the others followed in hot pursuit. Yao caught up to me easily on his horse, but instead of stopping to lend a hand, he kept on racing to where the Rotomagense assassin was now fleeing for his life. I briefly paused while the horses rumbled past, noticing a speck of movement in the brush to the side. It was difficult to see through the rain, but I could feel a presence close to me. I gasped and tumbled away as an arrow nearly grazed my shoulder, patting myself on the back for my lack of blindness. Pulling myself to my feet, I launched myself into the brush with a yell of defiance, swinging my dagger left and right through the traitorous plants as the other intruder remained frighteningly invisible. I heard the familiar sound of an arrow being drawn, and then cried out as, presumably, that very arrow sliced into my right shoulder blade. I fell to my knees and clutched in the general area of the wound, unsure of how to continue with my swinging arm injured. Another arrow was fired, this one grazing my side. I hissed loudly and fell to the ground in pain, feeling ill as the smell of my own blood wafted all around me. I could hear one last arrow being readied, surely the one that would take my life. Before Lupe could once again take me within her warm embrace, however, the familiar sound of Yao calling to me nearly busted my eardrums.

Before I knew it I was surrounded by Yao and the troop, Toris bending down to inspect my wounds. I blinked a couple of times and realized they had a prisoner with them: a petite little man with a mess of crimson hair and a face that clearly showed he was terrified beyond belief. He was tied up on the back of Feliks' horse pleading in incoherent little mumbles. I was able to get a better look at him as I was hoisted up by Feliks and Toris and placed gingerly over the side of Yao's horse. I was too tired and too interested in our prisoner to complain, though. He didn't look like an assassin. He wasn't intimidating, and there was no bloodthirsty gleam in his eye. He looked like a scared little boy, maybe a civilian dressed in assassin's clothing, but surely not a member of the Rotomagense clan.

"Ignavus," I muttered.

"He's a Rouen assassin, says his name's Feliciano," Feliks explained to me as we began moving again. The rough grinding of the horse's back against my wounds and bruises was enough to leave me disoriented to where I couldn't reply. "And he's gonna tell us all we need to know." I wasn't so sure. Surely a member of the Rotomagense clan wouldn't spill the secrets of his clan so easily? He might have been an ignavus, might have looked too frail and weak to watch over a rabbit let alone himself, but surely he was not a traitor at that? Or if he did spill his guts, perhaps it would be out of cowardice. Yes, I could see it now. He appears to be a coward. Perhaps we do have a chance then. Perhaps this captive will finally give Lupe and Luna something to smile about. I thought all of this while looking directly at him, though he wouldn't meet my gaze. He was in slapping distance, if I had the strength to reach. His eyes were downcast, sorrowful; his face tear-stained and dirty. I almost felt sorry for the lad, but he put himself in this mess. Lupe help him, it was not my fault if he was executed. Only moments later I noticed his muscles had grown lax. Realizing he had passed out, I felt my own lids grow heavy, and turned my head so that Feliciano would not be the last thing I saw before diving into the abyss. What I did see was far from the dirty face of a sniveling captive. Barely visible, as it was hidden within the shadows of the wilderness, was a miraculous black wolf. Its green eyes glimmered like embers at me before it faded away.

"Lupe," I croaked as I, too, faded away.


Rotomagense Abbatia, 1775, "We will prevail…"

I always passed that room, the door shut tight as if someone was afraid that someone else would see something they weren't supposed to. But this time the door was open, wide open for everyone to see. I finally realized that this was where Alexander must do all of his planning, this room was the heart of our entire foundation. I scratched my head in confusion as I discovered that not only was the door open, but it was currently in use with many angry clan members bickering back and forth like married couples. It would have been entertaining to watch had I not been spotted. Alexander was at the head of the large table of assassins. His brow was furrowed as he examined a map of the territory of the Vendolius clan with his son, Ivan, tracing the route that two of our own had taken earlier that day. He must have felt my presence because his gaze was no longer on the map, but on me, and then the bickering had quieted as well as everyone's attention lingered solely on me. I cleared my throat and stepped forward into the room, nodding my head in respect to Ivan and then to Alexander as well.

"I apologize for interrupting; I just…Francis mentioned something about there being some trouble. I'm here for assistance if you need it, Alexander." I tried to keep a steady face, to show that I was a confident assassin enough to where these kinds of trifles didn't bother me, but I'm sure my stone face must have wavered at some point because Ivan only smirked to himself and went back to charting on the map. I never really cared for Ivan either to tell you the truth, even if he was the leader's son. Then again, his sister, Natalia, was really no better. I defined her as …strange, not to mention creepy, oh, definitely creepy. Surprisingly, Alexander showed neither of these traits as he smiled warmly at me and beckoned me next to him. I loyally obeyed the command as he welcomed me in and dismissed everyone else, except for Ivan, of course.

"You have impeccable timing, Alfred. I have been needing someone of your stature to accompany Ivan on a rescue mission." My thoughts halted when he explained his purpose to me. We were assassins…going on a rescue mission? Where was the logic in that? I wanted to speak out against the plan with the only reason being our reputation when I realized I didn't even know who had been taken. "Ludwig and Feliciano went out on a scout-and-kill mission earlier today, I'm sure you understand. Ludwig fought fiercely and even managed to shoot a Vendeuil assassin down; unfortunately, it seems Feliciano was not so fierce. He was captured. He's still alive as far as we know, but I am going to entrust all of my faith in you to make sure that he is still breathing when your deliver him back to us. Cut down anyone who stands in your way, as this is for your clan's honor."

Feliciano and I had trained together, although we rarely spoke, and he didn't seem like a bad guy. I figured we could share a few words every now and again and maybe even go out to real civilization and waste ourselves at a tavern. Apparently Ludwig was the only real company he had, and I'm not trying to suggest that Ludwig was a bad guy either. It's just…Ludwig was a great assassin. That's all he ever was. The man was stone-faced, serious, and blunt. He would take you down in an instant, a great contrast to Feliciano. But I guess opposites do attract, and now I see where that saying originated from: couples like Ludwig and Feliciano. I only say couple because it's a rumor, and you know how rumors are.

"Are you in, or are you out, Alfred?" Ivan managed to shake me from my thoughts when I realized his hand was held out toward mine, obviously waiting for my reply. Would I accept or deny this mission? Would I give Ivan the satisfaction of knowing that he intimidated me to my quitting point? Would I give in to his stiff words and knowing smirks? Never. And so, I grasped his hand firmly and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I'll grab my flintlock immediately." Most assassins relied on the use of bows and arrows or knives of some kind, especially assassins from the Vendolius clan. I, however, preferred to use all sorts of weapons, especially guns like my flintlock. We made special use of all genres of weapons in the Rotomagense clan, and that was why I was sure we would prevail through this never ending feud that was quickly dissolving into a war. King George would not smother us out like a dying flame. We would burn brighter than anyone had ever seen before, starting with this rescue. My confidence finally refueled, I shook Ivan's hand once and let go. Alexander stopped me before I could turn and properly prepare for the mission, however.

"To the ecclesia with you both, have an abbas bless you before you truly depart. Tu ne cede malis sed contra audentior ito."

We nodded and marched out of the room as a united team…for once. I briefly reflected on Alexander's parting words and nodded to myself, letting my energy truly focus in my heart and mind. He is right, I must not yield to misfortune, but advance boldly against it.

"Divide et impera, Alfred. I'll damn you myself if you let me down."

Divide et impera, yes, divide et impera.


You've made it through the first chapter! Now, time to explain some things.

The main country we're dealing with here is Gandavum, a fictional version using the name of a group of cities and towns in Belgium. You can imagine Gandavum as sort of a European mush of many countries put together with my warped imagination.

The clans, Vendolius and Rotomagense, are actually the latin versions of the words I use to describe the inhabitants in this fic, those being Vendeuils and Rouen.

Lupe: "Wolf"

Luna: "Moon"

Abbas: "Father"

Abbatia: "Abbey"

Mactabilis: "Lethal"

Julius: "July"

Viridis: "Green"

Ignavus: "Sluggish or Cowardly"

Tu ne cede malis sed contra audentior ito. : "Yield not to misfortunes, but advance all the more boldly against them."

Divide et impera. : "Divide and conquer."

Note: There are other words in English that the latin words above translate into, I just gave you my basic meanings.

Note: I clearly state that this takes place in the 18th Century, however, because this is fantasy and a mess of my imagination not everything will be legitimately from or true to that time period. Notice, however, that it is the year the Revolutionary War began. Coincidence? I think not.

Note: I technically made Austria Hungary's father in this. Don't hurt me!

And last but not least, I think we all know who Arthur and Alfred are, however, if you couldn't tell:

Elizabeth: Hungary

Roderich: Austria

Ivan: Russia

Natalia: Belarus

Toris: Lithuania

Yao: China

Gilbert: Prussia

Feliks: Poland

Francis: France (should've guessed this, too)

Ludwig: Germany

Feliciano: Italy

Please read and review. :)