Promise
Chapter 1 – England
The words flowed from his mouth, sounding familiar yet foreign, calm but wild. Sometimes they sounded like the wind rustling in the trees, darting playfully among the leaves, sometimes the song of a clear little brook, flowing merrily, twisting and turning all the way to the sea. They sounded like the unforgiving ice of the far north, it's song beautiful, yet deadly. They sounded like the harsh, brutal desert winds of the Sahara, merciless and cruel. Smoothly, they flowed from his mouth, never stumbling or stuttering over the words.
He felt a warm breeze brush past his cheek, the breeze whirling around the triangle he had drawn onto the metal floor. He felt more gusts of wind appear and join the first, whirling around and around, until they resembled a hurricane. The wind blew angrily, the objects in the room that weren't pinned down lifted airborne. But still he continued to recite the spell.
The playful wind.
The clear little brook.
The unforgiving ice.
The mercilessly desert winds.
Life.
Their songs flowed from his lips.
Playful.
Calm.
Unforgiving.
Merciless.
The winds blew until he was flattened against the wall, but still he did not stop. Finally the wind died down and he dared to open his eyes only to be shocked senseless.
"Hello my dear Albion. You've grown so much since I last saw you. Your brothers Scotland, Wales and Ireland summons me down for a talk at least once a month. I was wondering when you would too. You've inherited my emerald green eyes, it seems. And my eyebrows. How unfortunate."
England could only gape at the beautiful woman standing in the triangle. Indeed, she had the same eyes and eyebrows. Even their hair was the same color. "M-mother?"