Chapter One

To this day I do not know why the other nations cannot understand me. They think I drink too much even though it is common knowledge that everyone, whether Ally or Axis, have their drink of pleasure. They have their wines, their scotch, their beer, their sake, their burban... What is so wrong with my vodka? For some reason they think I am scarey. Even though I try to be friendly. I smile do I not? Should that not be enough? Maybe it is the way that I speak... But this is how I was raised speaking.

Perhaps this will explain everything. I will have to start from the before the great nation of Russia. When Ivan Braginski was only Ivan. Da... I will start then and hope that someday the others will understand.

I grew up in a world of cold and ice. With grey skies and white crust as far as the eye could see. On windy days, after a fresh snowfall, the wind would lift the loose white powder into the turbulent air creating mirages of wild horses, a frothy sea, or even an army of grey suited soldiers. This was my home; the only home I ever knew.

The landscape may have been barren, but I would not say it was a lonely place. There was my older sister and our guardian. My older sister was a sweet girl with short yellow hair and large blue eyes. She... was kind to me. Our guardian... He was a stern, weathered man with eyes like steel and hands as cold as death. He always told my sister and I, "We are a family. No one out there will give a fuck about you like I do." And it was true. We were a family.

xx

"Katyusha, Ivan, get out of bed you lazy brats."

A bucket full of slush began to tip above their heads. A groggy, young Ivan tried to roll out of the way, but rolled into his still sleeping sister. As the slush landed on them, it burned their skin with pins and needles jolting them awake. For a moment Ivan lost his breath from the sudden cold shock.

General Winter was standing in the door way of the rickety shack letting the morning wind enter freely. "It'll be light out soon, so go find something to eat if you want a breakfast. I expect you both to be ready for work in one hour."

The two children quickly stumbled out of bed and fumbled around in search for their coats. Once dressed, they walked past Winter in single file. Even though they avoided making eye contact, Ivan felt the man's heavy gaze on him. The feeling did not leave after he exited the shack; instead it intensified in the world of white.

"This way, Ivan." His older sister grabbed his hand and lead him toward a frost forest. Sometimes the could find small shoots with edible roots poking out of the snow. On hands and knees they brushed away the softer top layers until the ground was to frozen to claw at.

"I found one!" Ivan wrapped his little fingers around the young plant and began pulling. "It's stuck."

"I'll help you." She reached around him and wrapped her hands around his. The two of them pulled with all their might until the sapling's roots finally ripped loose and sent them both toppling over backwards.

"Ouch..." Ivan rubbed the back of his head as he sat up in the snow.

"Are you okay, Ivan?"

"No" he replied still rubbing his head. "Your flat chest didn't cushion my fall."

His sister's face turned bright red. "Ivan!"

"Winter says so too!" he defended while narrowly avoiding his sister's fist. "He says that you are so flat and tall, you might as well have been born a boy instead of a girl."

"Well at least I'm not a shorty like you." She crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue.

"I'm gonna grow."

"Yeah right!" she laughed. "You're going to be so small you'll get a step stool for your birthday even when you are old enough to grow your own beard."

"Not true, flat chest!"

"Is true, pipsqueak!"

Gurgle...

Ivan looked down at the uprooted plant in his hands. It was only the length of his hand from his finger tips to his thin wrist. With daybreak closing in on them, the chances of finding another was slim. He drew an imaginary line at the middle of the stem. "Heads or tails?"

"Tails."

He bit off the top half of the sapling and handed the rooty half to his sister. The taste left much to be desired. As his teeth mashed the tough stem, a bitter after taste filled his mouth.

Katyusha tugged on his sleeve. "We should head back now."