I am very excited to be able to share this with everyone! This story is very fun to write and I have done lots of research on weapons, medicine, diseases, etc. in the 1800s. There will be lots of humor and stuff later but obviously since this is the prologue it can't be all smiles and laughs, its got to leave the reader hanging and grab your attention!

There are so many characters in this and all play roles in shaping the story. I am almost certain that there is a character in here that's one of you guys favorites, if so I would love to know!

Don't forget to comment and enjoy the story :)

Characters: Alistair (Scotland), Arthur (England), Alex (Fem!Norway)

Italics - thoughts

Prologue

The Eternal War, the war that would never end. That's what it had been named. At first it was just little fights here and there in the northern territories, but that would all change in the span of 1 year. During that time Russia, Finland and Germany weren't on the greatest terms. With the tension thickening between them, one unknown country decided to try and assassinate Russia's leader, Ivan Braginsky. They were successful.

The Russians were outraged and blamed both Finland and Germany for the death of there leader. The only problem was that they were innocent. The two countries denied being involved in the assassination, but that only fueled Russia's anger. They declared war against Finland and Germany, not taking into account the impact it would cause on the people surrounding them.

5 years had gone by since the beginning and many countries knew they were to be dragged into the calamity that the three nations had caused, and eventually choose sides.

Spain, France, Netherlands, Belgium, Italy, Austria-Hungary and England support Germany. All the Nordic countries support Finland. And the Russians had the three Baltic countries, Poland, Belarus and Ukraine supporting them.

England however, has been able to avoid much of the warfare within their homeland. No major battles have occurred there, the only fights being small with a low death tolls. Even though there is no immediate concern for a fight breaking out many soldiers are still stationed there, most being in the northern part of the country. The reason for this is because the northern area is the most vulnerable since it is exposed with no allies near it. Enemies like Norway and Denmark could easily cross the North Sea and invade England. Knowing this some people have fled to the south seeking refuge from the war...

Thousands of lives have been lost since the beginning, but the war is not over yet. The Russians have still not forgotten their hatred and need of revenge for their dead leader, letting this unnecessary war and heavy bloodshed continue for over 30 years with more to come...

February 9th, 1803

Alistair trudged through the forest, fresh fallen snow covering it in a veil of white. He had lost his battalion when their camp was attacked by those Russian dogs. He was away at the time and had come back only to find the camp in ruins, the bodies of his companions littered the ground as they laid there- broken, bloody and lifeless. Now he was alone. He clutched his rifle, knuckles turning white, eyes burning with rage and unshed tears. Just the thought of his fellow countrymen being slaughtered made him sick to his stomach. Shaking his head, he tried to rid the idea from his mind. I don't have time to be angry. Right now I need to find a place to rest. Anything place do at this point.

Alistair continued to walk through the forest, snow crunching beneath his boots. Eventually he reached a small clearing, his feet numb from the freezing snow. Sighing in relief, he leaned against a thick, sturdy tree taking a short, but well needed break. He stayed there for a moment or two before pushing himself from the tree, resuming his hike. He only made it a few feet away from the tree he suddenly heard a loud, painfully familiar BANG. A sharp pain spread through his left thigh. Looking down he saw the red liquid that no soldier ever wanted to see gushing out of them, blood. Seeing this he finally registered what happened, someone was trying to kill him. He barely had enough time to limp away as another BANG echoed through the forest, the bullet hitting him in the shoulder. Letting out a pain filled cry he dropped his gun, clutching the newly formed wound. Where is this bastard!? he thought desperately, eyes moving franticly in search of any sign of the sniper. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something move, but it was too late. The third and final shot rang out. He didn't even know where it hit as his legs buckled underneath, dropping him face down in the cold snow. His blood mixing with it, staining it a deep red. He smiled as he lay there. This is how I go out, huh? I wonder why that bastard took so long to kill me... Not like it matters though, no one's gonna care if I die. Hell, even the folks back home are probably rejoicing over my death… oh well, I hope Hell isn't as fucked up as it is here…

Meanwhile on the outskirts of a nearby town...

Arthur was cutting firewood when he heard something that sounded a lot like a gunshot. Looking up from his work, he scanned the forest. There wasn't any movement he could see, but that didn't mean no one was out there. "I might as well check it out," he sighed, resting the axe against a small pile of firewood. Making his way over to the edge of the forest he heard the same sound again, this time he was positive it was a gunshot. He knew that no one in town was out hunting and no one from outside came out this way. Stealthily he moved through the forest, listening for anything that would indicate where the sound was coming from. As if on queue a third shot rang out, echoing throughout the forest. Arthur now knew where the sound had come from. He silently crept through the snow covered forest toward the clearing.

As he stood at the edge of the clearing a look of horror and fear consumed his once calm face. There in the middle of the clearing was a soldier, but this soldier wasn't up and walking around. No, he laid there face down in red stained snow, limbs splayed out and his gun only inches away... Who could have done this?

Arthur snapped out of his trance and rushed over to the man, kneeling beside him. His face paling as he watched the snow around the man continued to turn red. "Oh god, oh god what do I do!" he asked, a part of him knowing he would receive no answer. Slowly slipping into hysteria, his mind beginning to feel cramped and ached as more and more thoughts whirled around it like a hurricane.

In the heat of the moment he slapped his cheeks, ridding himself of the fearful thoughts controlling his mind. "Ok. I can do this" he assured himself, taking deep breath.

After successfully calming himself, he carefully flipped the man over onto his back and gasped when he saw three bloody gunshot wounds. Ignoring the blood, he quickly rested his ear against the man's chest, listening for any signs of life. After what felt like an eternity he heard a faint beat. Arthur held back tears as he continued to hear the hope filled sound of a heartbeat.

"He's alive! Oh thank god" he whispered leaning back in the red stained snow. Now he just needed to get him back to the cabin... easier said then done. Gripping the man's ankles he slowly dragged him back towards the cabin, dodging trees as they went, leaving footprints and red snow in their wake.

Arthur was pretty sure it took him at least a good thirty minutes to drag the man back home. After awkwardly pushing open the door with his back, he successfully hoisted the man into the spare bed. He stood there for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow. I should probably check if he's still alive. After that journey I wouldn't be surprised if he already kicked the bucket, he thought.

Leaning over once again, he rested his ear against the mans chest, smiling when he heard a familiar rhythm. It was faint, but it was still there and continued to beat. Standing up he watched as the mans chest slowly rise and fall, his breaths now short and labored. At least he's breathing, Arthur thought, brushing back the soldiers fiery red hair as he placed his hand against his forehead. Shit! he's burning up! clenching his teeth he quickly ran out of the room and into the kitchen. Grabbing a cloth off the table he soaked it in cold water. Ringing out the cloth he then ran back into the bedroom, placing the cool cloth on the soldiers forehead. After doing that he grabbed one of the extra sheets and torn it into long strips, creating makeshift bandages. Arthur carefully wrapped each of the bullet wounds before bolting out the door and down the path, kicking up snow as he ran. By the time he got to the clinic he was breathing heavily. With his remaining strength, he threw open the door. The doctor looked up with concern.

Eventually, he managed to get the message out, in between labored breaths, "Alex, I... need your... help"