1
"Ugh." Britain sighed heavily, the noise lost in the chaos around him, and threw his head back in frustration. "Another disastrous meeting." he thought. "Frog-face has been at me all morning, Russia hasn't stopped creeping China out since he arrived, Japan's asleep, America's stuffing his face in the corner-is that someone sitting next to him, who is that? I don't know. And then there's those two." Britain's focus landed on Germany and Italy. Germany stood over the other man's chair, shaking his flimsy body with force, Italy wailing pathetically all the while. "Italy's like a petulant child." Britain mused to himself. "If Germany didn't have to keep shouting at him every two seconds, his attention might be more focused on controlling these meetings. I sometimes wish Italy could have a bit more Germany in him, and Germany a bit more Italy. That way, their mannerisms would be more...balanced and we all might actually be better off for it. Germany could lead in a firm but fairer way and Italy...well, I suppose he might input genuinely useful ideas." A small smile grew on Britain's face. His eyes darkened. "Suppose I was to...intervene and put this idea into practise...I just need the right opportunity-"
"Black sheep of Europe! Black sheep of Europe!" a familiar voice chimed in the man's ears.
"Wanker! You broke my train of thought!" Britain hurled a pen upon the table in anger, snapping it in half.
2
Britain forced his way through the rest of the meeting, often finding himself lapsing in and out of consciousness. Eventually, at the sound of rustling papers and the screeching of chairs, Britain lifted his head. All the countries had left their desks and were piling out of the board room.
"Crap!" In a panic, Britain stumbled to his feet and scooped up all his papers-stuffing the broken pen in his jacket pocket, running as fast as he could towards the door. Over the sea of heads, the man could make out the unmistakable flash of blonde German hair-and where there was Germany, there would be Italy. Britain needed to think fast or his opportunity would disappear. Suddenly landing on the perfect idea, Britain seized the two halves of the broken pen from his pocket and held them out in front of him, the sharp, jagged edges first. He ducked and squeezed past the other nations, catching up quickly with his two targets. Britain hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. To avoid looking more obvious than he already did, he pretended to trip and fell forward. In the process, Britain was able to slash both men's arms with the two halves of the pen. Italy and Germany whipped round at once.
"Schizer! What the hell, Britain!" Germany barked. Britain forced an apologetic smile.
"Oh my! I'm so sorry, Germany, Italy. I just tripped!"
"You broke your pen too!" Italy piped up, pointing to the two small weapons in the man's hand.
"Oh!" Britain cried. "Look at that, so I have! Oh well, it was almost run out anyway. Sorry, once again-I'll be more careful next time." Germany grunted in annoyance and turned away. Italy smiled sympathetically, wiping the cut on his arm.
"That's OK! It doesn't even hurt that bad!" Italy turned back round and continued to walk with Germany. Britain smiled contentedly and looked down at the two halves of the pen. The jagged edge of the plastic was rimmed with small droplets of blood.
"Perfect." he whispered under his breath.
3
Britain reached home in good time-luck was on his side it seemed; no one stopped him or wondered about his intent. Almost all the blood had stayed on the pen-miraculously-and Britain only hoped there was enough of it to work a spell. Donning his black cape, Britain unlocked the door to the basement, a cold draft escaping upon opening the ancient stone door. The man's footsteps gave off small, rounded echoes as he descended the cold, steep stairs. With a click of his fingers, the candles at the foot of the stairs ignited simultaneously, one by one and illuminated the vast space ahead. Still holding the two halves of the pen in one hand, Britain picked up a thick, embroidery backed book with the other and walked to the centre of the room. He turned each page with delicacy, making sure not to damage the worn and fragile pages. Upon finding the correct page, Britain lowered his head and began whispering a silent spell. His hair began to move with a slight stir of the air around him. He opened his eyes. A glowing purple pentagon appeared on the floor before him. Britain nodded with approval and continued on. He took a step towards the pentagon and tipped the first half of the pen upside down-Britain was unsure who's blood this was but was reassured he would soon find out. Droplets of blood lingered on the sharp edges of the plastic before eventually falling one by one into the magic realm. Britain recited another spell, more loudly this time, glancing down at the book every now and again. Suddenly, from the pentagon, a cloud of purple smoke sprung and coiled itself tightly to form the rough outline of Germany's figure. Britain stepped back in surprise. The smoke wavered this way and that, the face was obscured, but it was unmistakably Germany's silhouette. That meant the other blood belonged to Italy. Britain repeated the process again and sure enough, the same thing happened. A smoky outline of Italy appeared next to Germany. Britain stood admiring the queer sight for a moment before focusing his attention on the task at hand. He dropped the two halves of the pen, whose purpose had now been fulfilled, and cradled the book with both hands.
"The intent of this magic: to change and enhance,
Now give me the power to help and advance,
The beings before us for which they must give,
Blood for blood, and happier they'll live!" Britain cried. He watched in awe as a burst of light appeared from the chests of both apparitions and crossed the outline of their body. Both balls of light collided in-between the two figures and continued on their way into the other's body. Then, in a short explosion of brilliant white, Britain found himself blinded, his hair and cape whipping violently in the momentum. He held up both arms in front of his face, shielding himself. Upon drawing his arms away, he found the pentagon and all it's illusions gone. All the candles were out, rising smoke just visible in the darkness. Britain looked around, as if expecting something else to happen. Silence drowned the room. A grin warmed on the man's face. "I guess I did it."
End of Chapter 1
A/N: Hey! Thanks for reading-if you liked it, let me know, it really helps!
Stay tuned for the next chapter where the result of Britain's magic is revealed-was it successful? You'll have to wait and see ;3