The date is August 20th, 1809.

The battered and bloodied Swedish man laid there in the slightly frosted grass. A tall Russian man, also battered and bloodied walked up to him. The Russian smiled wickedly down at the Swedish man and laughed out a quiet "kolkolkol."

The Swedish man got himself slowly off of the ground and stared up at the Russian. "s' ya g't me b't… s' wh't d' ya w'nt?"

The Russian just smiled at him coldly, "If I told you, then you would keep fighting me, even in this state."

The Swedish man looked up at him confused and now worried. His slight smirk from before turned to a frown and his eyes burned with rage and fear at the same time. He spoke slowly and nervously. "T'll m'…"

The Russian just smirked and laughed. "I'd rather not take the chance of another attack from you… you may be defeated… but Ratan sure was harsh." he smiled wickedly.

The Swedish man winced, the wounds and blood loss were taking effect. He weakly looked up at the Russian, but said not a word.

The Russian smiled an even bigger wicked smile and kicked the Swedish man to the cold ground again. "If you would like to know so bad, I'll have him tell you."

The Swedish man looked up at him, a mixture of confusion and pain went through him.

As the Russian walked aside, he revealed a small Finnish man behind him. The Finnish was dressed in a blue uniform and a white hat, and when he looked up at the Swedish man, his tear-stained face revealed bright violet eyes.

The Finnish walked up to the Swedish and kneeled down to his level. He suddenly embraced the Swedish man and cried even harder.

The Swedish man blinked slowly and stared at the Finnish man, "Im s'ry…"

The Finnish sobbed louder and looked down at the Swedish, "B-Berwald… Its alright… b-but…" His sobbing only got worse and he found it nearly impossible to speak.

The Swedish looked up at him and smiled, "'t 's ok… I 'ow wh't ya we're tr'in t' s-" He stopped mid sentence. Pain gripped his whole body and his eyes shot wide open. Blood shot out of his mouth as a bought of coughing turned upon him.

The Finnish looked at him in pure horror, "B-B-BERWALD!" he screamed.

The Swedish looked up at him weakly and whispered, "T-Tino…" he whispered. Suddenly he was gripped by pain again and his vision went black. He went limp on the ground.

The Finnish screamed in horror again. "BERWALD NO!" he looked down at the Swedish man in anguish and cried more and more.

The Russian stood behind the Finnish and looked down at him. "Tino… its time. You have to come with me." he smiled coldly.

The Finnish looked up at him and yelled, "No! I have to stay with Berwald! He'll die if we leave him this way!"

The Russian repeated what he had said earlier, "Tino, we have to leave now." and grabbed the Finnish man up into his arms against his will.

The Finnish struggled as hard as he could, but running and trying to survive this war had made him tired, and so his struggling was easily contained by the Russian. He screamed out, "NO! NO! BERWALD! DON'T DIE!"

The Russian glared at him, clearly annoyed and dropped him on the ground. He pinned him down on the ground and pulled out his pipe. The Russian held it high in the air and then crashed it hard upon the Finnish's head.

The Finnish suddenly stopped struggling and fell to the ground, all went black.

The Russian slowly picked the Finnish back up and carried him off.