Representing the Magical Community
In the London Mansion of one Arthur Kirkland, there were many interesting things. For one, his house was more like a museum of British History or more specifically English History. Another interesting thing was the number of marks, scratches and gouges in various pieces of more modern woodwork. If questioned about it, the physical representation of England and the UK would quietly mutter something about a drunken get together with his older brothers and things getting out of hand during an argument. There was also something that was kept quiet from nations outside of the UK; a second representative that was living in the house with England. Contrary to popular belief, England had once been very good at magic until sometime in the dark ages when his proficiency suddenly all but disappeared. It remained a puzzle for many centuries until almost a decade and a half ago when the brothers had come across a girl with dark red hair and bright emerald eyes that almost glowed in the darkness. That strange sixth sense that made nations recognise each other had kicked in though it hadn't been as strong as when it was another nation. It was strange that this person recognised the brothers as nations and knew the nation tongue (how else were they supposed to understand each other at meetings? Any other time, they spoke their native languages) but was not a nation herself. However, she did seem to identify with England as a daughter and this didn't bother the ex-empire at all after all he did raise a third of the world (even if some of his old colonies didn't exactly get on with him any more) so the girl was welcomed into his home with open arms.
England was incredibly pleased when he walked in on Lottie having a chat with his fairies and he could have died happy when he realised they were talking in Old English. She'd said it was something she'd always been able to do and then pouted when the fairy switched to Latin. Apparently, Lottie didn't like Latin; "too different from the old tongue" she said "it took decades for me to wrap my head round the basics" There was another confusing aspect to the mysterious Lottie Kirkland; despite her claims of feeling like England was her father, when asked about her capital (to discover her identity. Provided the capital had already been established, a nation will instinctively know it) she simply stated "I have no capital but my heart lies in Scotland."
Scott, the representative of Scotland, was just as clueless as everyone else. He had no micro-nation near his coasts so any ideas related to what Lottie represented ran out.
Lottie had grown very slowly and had recently reached a physical age of seventeen and she couldn't be happier; she had a roof over her head, she could cast spells in six different languages (Old English, Scottish Gaelic, Irish Gaelic, Latin, Welsh and English), she had powerful magic running through her veins and she had a wonderful... and slightly weird family. Sure they argued a lot but what family didn't? She had learnt to block out the arguments and would often disappear into her own little world. In her mind's eye she saw a large forest on the grounds of a proud and ancient looking stone castle. Figures in black cloaks, and some in more colourful robes, roamed the grounds and castle corridors. She saw ghosts drifting through walls and casually chatting with each other and robed living people. She also seemed to home in on a particular figure in the castle; a black haired boy with glasses that usually had a tall red haired boy and a bushy brown haired girl with him. They would chat happily with each other and often seriously especially with everything that happened there. She remembered the first time she had seen him; he was beneath the castle fighting a gigantic basilisk and won but was close to death when a fang pierced his arm. Lottie had almost cried; not only was a beautiful specimen lost, she really was scared that the boy would die and she wished she could reach out to him. She'd gotten some odd looks as she had forgotten that this was all in her mind's eye and had stretched out her arm in an attempt to help him. She had found it easier to watch the three after that and she was glad she did; the situations they got themselves into! It really was ridiculous sometimes. It was like trouble followed them and snapped at their heels.
June 1994 London, England
Lottie had put herself to bed like she normally would any other night. Shower (probably one of the few 20th Century toys she actually trusted), hot drink and curling up beneath her covers and allowing a light breeze to drift through the open window just above her head of dark red hair. She'd drifted off very quickly and began to dream. It was the black haired boy again. He was entering a large maze with some other students entering from different areas at different times. She watched as he bravely fought and puzzled his way through the maze and even rescued a fellow competitor and then they shared the trophy which made her feel incredibly happy that they could still be civil despite being against each other in a competition. But something was wrong. The trophy looked... well something about it just didn't sit right with her and her suspicions were confirmed when the two boys disappeared from sight in a bright flash of blue light. Lottie felt herself panic. Where were they? They shouldn't have disappeared like that! This had never happened before! Her dream was now nothing more than a foggy landscape that she couldn't navigate until, she came across a cemetery and found the black haired boy tied to a large gravestone with a small mousey looking man by his arm holding a knife. The other boy was lying a few feet away. Lottie found that she could walk around in this dream. That was new. She investigated the other boy and saw glazed eyes; he was dead. From that first step towards the boy, she felt a kind of dull ache in her chest and it worried her. She felt like something bad was coming and it would harm her but that was impossible; she was a physical representation and it had never been discovered what she represented. The mousey man dropped the black haired boy's blood into a large cauldron along with his own hand and a bone taken from the soil that the black haired boy was standing on. There was magic being concocted here; powerful, dark magic. The mousey man began to chant words and suddenly, she watched as a body rose out of the cauldron looking like a foetus at first but growing constantly; getting taller, becoming older and gaining clothes. Finally, this new pale man opened his eyes and glanced around the cemetery, his dark red eyes completely skipping over Lottie which she was very thankful for. His eyes held nothing but evil and corruption and her destruction. Wait, what? That dull ache was getting more noticeable and painful. The pale man summoned people with skull shaped masks and black robes. The moment these followers touched the ground,the dull ache in Lottie's chest started to flare up quite painfully and she grasped her chest over her heart in an attempt to quell the pain. It wasn't working.
The pale man and the black haired boy were duelling with magic. The pale man's darkness was threatening to squash the bright, warm, protective light she associated with her father and uncles and this boy and she didn't like that at all but there was nothing she could do. The pain in her chest had brought her to her knees, her vision was fogging up and her head felt like it was on fire and splitting! Her breathing had become ragged and yet, she still hadn't been noticed.
England was sat in his study completing the paperwork that all nations received. Ideas for solutions to the many problems the country faced, organising meetings with other nations, preparing a presentation for the next world conference and getting to know the Prince's new wife. His daughter had come in and said night before heading to bed. Yes it was saddening knowing that paperwork prevented family time but both understood. It was even worse because he noticed that Lottie had started to speak less about her dreams over the last four years. Normally she would spend an hour talking about her dreams in detail and they would spend an entire afternoon coming up with different interpretations. Nowadays, if he tried to mention her dreams, she would go quiet and wander off somewhere or change the subject. England stretched and rotated his wrist a few times before continuing with his current report; something incredibly dull yet extremely important, the economy. He almost snapped his pen when a loud, pain filled, gut wrenching scream tore through the house. England dropped what he was doing and rushed up to Lottie's room in a panic; he'd never heard her scream like that. What he saw in her Halloween tribute room was the girl tossing and turning and clutching at her chest right above her heart. On instinct he checked for blood until he remembered that it was still unknown what she actually represented. He put a hand to her forehead and almost hissed at the heat he found there. Her eyes flew open at that point but she continued to shake and clutch at her chest.
"Lottie, sweetheart-" England began but he saw that she wasn't paying attention. she was gazing at the wall with glazed eyes that seemed to see through the wall when she suddenly grabbed hold of his shoulder and started retching and clutching at her head with her free hand.
"Papa." She managed to gasp out "W-whats happening to me?"
England rubbed her back in an attempt to calm the poor girl. "What did you see poppet?"
Lottie gulped after another session of retching and explained her dreams over the last four years.
"A-and just now, I looked at the wall but I saw open fields and forests and towns that felt different to the ones we visit and a street with shops that sold magical things. I-it was like I was everywhere at once."
This time, she couldn't hold it back and threw up from the pain. England just continued to rub her back and say soothing things to her but she couldn't calm down. She kept complaining about seeing too much and how it hurt her head and that everything felt like it was changing and it was scaring her. There was nothing for it, Arthur may have been the third most powerful out of the brothers but he was no expert. Time to call the eldest of the British Isles; Scott, the representative of Scotland. "Puck! Ic néadclamm ðú!" Puck! I need you!
A small pixie dressed in various shades of green and brown appeared by Arthur's shoulder and grinned.
"Gése Angelþéod?" Yes England?
Arthur knew he should be focusing on Lottie rather than how nice it was to hear and speak his old tongue but in his defence, he hardly ever used Old English anymore; it might as well be a dead language.
"Fráse Scotland. Sorg hine Lottie sy ádlíce" Find Scotland. Tell him Lottie is ill
Puck's usually bright, mischievous blue eyes turned to red haired girl still gripping Arthur's shoulder and shaking and retching.
"ádlíce? Ic cwide færræs æt Scotland!" Ill? I'll hurry to Scotland!
He disappeared with a pop and a small sprinkling of pixie dust. Both Arthur and Lottie sneezed; they really hated pixie dust sometimes.
It wasn't long before the red haired smoke scented eldest brother appeared in the room wearing his blue military uniform with the white straps crossing over his chest. "What's this I hear about the òg leanabh?" young child?
"There's something wrong with Lottie." Arthur replied. Scot just gave him a look.
"Aye, I noticed that. What exactly is wrong?"
Arthur suppressed the urge to punch his oldest brother in the face. There were times when he hated being the youngest of five, brothers... no wait, it was four. Republic of Ireland wasn't part of the UK and she was a sister anyway.
"I heard her scream and she's been clutching at her chest, her head, she's been shaking and retching and she mumbles about seeing too much. She's calmed down and doesn't seem to be in agony but she is still shaking and the pain made her throw up earlier." Arthur rattled off. Scot simply stood by the door watching the pair before approaching and kneeling just in front of Lottie.
"Faireachdainn tinn òg leanabh?" Feeling ill young child? He said quietly.
Lottie's forest green eyes, the shade shared by the brothers, looked up. Scot saw just how ill she was. There was no glint in her eyes, instead of the bright glow they were dull and almost dead. It was like she'd suddenly taken on an impossible burden and was only just keeping herself going.
"'ga goirtich." It hurts. Lottie said shakily. Scot looked at the trembling girl again before asking a very odd question.
"Can you feel them?"
"Yes." She immediately replied. She didn't even know what her uncle meant or at least she thought she didn't. She obviously had some idea because she answered straight away. Lottie halted her thoughts there; it hurt too much to be thinking in circles.
"What does she represent Scot?" Arthur asked. He'd understood what his brother meant straight away and almost kicked himself. Alfred had come down with a nasty fever many times when he was still a colony and it was always right after he met a new child that looked similar to him. He'd recently found out that they were the states and the fever was a side effect of connecting with new land and new people. Still, it didn't explain why Lottie had reacted so violently.
"Ever checked the wee one's magic? It's mostly yours but she's managed to get hold of a bit of mine as well. She represents the magical community."
Ah, that made sense. Arthur's magic had gone haywire before deciding it wouldn't play nice when he tried to cast difficult spells. But it still didn't explain why Lottie had reacted so violently to connecting with her people and land.
Lottie explained the dream that started the pain and was relieved when Scott gave her an answer.
"From the sounds of it, you've been aware of them for a while. Your instincts knew that Voldemort was no good for the community and then you wanted to protect the boy. That desire and panic must have triggered the connection. You've been without people and land for so long, it must have been a shock when you finally found them. Nevermind the fact that Voldie had tortured and killed before. You said no one was screaming but you could still hear it? That was probably an entire history of your people forcing itself into your head."
Lottie took everything in and pushed it to the back of her mind with all the other information that she found lurking there. She resolved to organise her mind later... or maybe in a couple of days when she was feeling a bit better. She was distracted when a small figure landed on her shoulder. The figure had green skin and a very fetching red hat that looked suspiciously like a fez. It was a feeorin she had named Erin. Lottie had one fairy that acted as a messenger for a particular uncle, in this case, Erin usually carried messages to Wales. The clue was in the fez; Uncle Bryn must have been watching Doctor Who again and made a fez for the feeorin still at least it was easy to tell which fairy was which messenger. "Erin, blesio ddeud Ewythr a Canfyddais 'm boblogi." Erin, tell Wales I have found my people.
Little Erin smiled "Do fetha Lottie." Yes Miss Lottie.
3 Days later
Inside the meeting room, The British Isle brothers were casting wary glances around the room. Things were a bit hectic at the moment so it wasn't the best time to announce a newcomer plus it would just freak Lottie out. That would be bad. She may technically be a century or two younger than England but she could still loose control when distressed; it was a side effect of her younger citizens having no control until they received a wand aged eleven. Currently, there was an argument between... well... everyone really as per usual. Italy was in a pasta filled daydream, America was spewing out his latest idea, Germany was trying to regain control and France was leaning over to attempt to grope England. Normally, Arthur would edge away and start arguing with him because, by this point, getting everyone to focus was impossible however he wasn't in the mood. His daughter was outside probably worrying herself sick about meeting so many people at once so he did what any short tempered man would do; swung round and gave France a taste of his right hook.
"Nice punch brawd bach." little brother Wales snickered.
"Those days of play-fighting worked a treat then aye bóidean bráthair?" baby brother Scotland joked. England just folded his arms and ducked the hand that went to annoy him by ruffling his hair. He really hated his brothers sometimes... actually, nevermind, he hated them most of the time.
"Angleterre England... so short tempered today. Perhaps he is suffering from the tension sexuelle sexual tensions to play with his big brother France?"
France got a pirate glare for his comment and three sets of wild, glaring, Celtic eyes warning him to shut up and not to push his luck today. He got the message.
"Eh he... I think I hear Prussia and Spain calling me." And he dashed over to the other side of the room.
Of course, the rest of the nations had noticed this and it was Germany who was the first to ask the question everyone wanted to ask.
"Is everything alright? You surprise me Britain, normally you don't resort to violence so quickly."
"I'm simply England today Germany. I'm sure you've noticed that my brothers have joined me in today's meeting." The German's silence was all he needed for confirmation "My brothers and I were hoping to introduce someone to you all today."
This caught everyone's attention and whispers like 'someone new?, new land?, yay another friend!' You can guess who spoke the last one. Wales opened the door and muttered something and as he returned to his seat, all eyes were on the girl walking behind him. She was quite short with ash blond shoulder length hair and the same green eyes as the Celtic brothers. A kind of long sleeved purple dress that dragged on the floor and a midnight blue cloak covered her shoulders. She took her place in the centre of the room and stood quietly, not quite sure what to say until France spoke up in a way only the nation of love could.
"Bonjour ma cheri. Hello my dear. I am The Republic of France, the country of l'amore love."
The girl smiled shyly. "Bonjour, mon nom est lottie. Mon père et mes oncles ont m'a averti sur vous. Pourriez-vous s'il vous plaît s'abstenir de votre fameux mauvaise touche?" Hello, my name is Lottie. My father and uncles have warned me about you. Could you please refrain from your bad touches?
It certainly wasn't perfect heck she hated the way the words flowed from her tongue. Lottie decided there and then that she preferred the harsher sounds of the Celtic languages. Another country spoke up.
"Hola newcomer! Mi llamo es España" Hello. My name is Spain.
"Buenas tardes España. Es un placer encontrarme con ustedes." Good afternoon Spain. It's a pleasure to meet you.
"Would you like some pasta bella?" Asked the hyperactive, happy-go-lucky Italian.
Lottie giggled; she liked this one already.
"No, grazie Italia. Io ho mangiato un grande pranzo prima." No thank you Italy. I ate a big lunch earlier.
Lottie had discovered that Spanish and Italian were annoyingly similar and flowed from her tongue though not as much as French. She felt more comfortable with the few phrases she learnt from these languages, they used sounds that had to be pronounced from the back of the throat like gaelic.
"You will become one with Russia little one, da?"
Lottie froze. Her family were right, Russia was very intimidating.
"В-Bы должны быть России. Боюсь я не могу стать частью Российской Федерации. Я имею часть Великобритании уже." Y-you must be Russia. I'm afraid I can't become part of the Russian Federation. I am a part of Great Britain already.
This alphabet had been a nightmare to memorise though magic was very useful; she had cast a quick translation charm on herself to make things that little bit easier. She was glad she did as she ended up going through almost every language in Europe but it was worth it; the nations had warmed up to her very quickly after hearing her talk to them in their own languages.
"Eower hweorfan lufu," Your turn love.
Hearing the Anglo-Saxon words helped Lottie to relax and she took a deep breath and spoke to the gathered nations.
"Many of you may not believe this after all I was only discovered about fourteen years ago. I shall start from the beginning. I remember waking up in the Dark Ages in a forest. I could feel something tingling just beneath my skin and I could see a family just beyond the forest I was in. I felt I had to hide from everyone so, despite one instinct telling me to approach the family, the stronger one urged me to remain hidden. Fourteen years ago, I came across this same family again and this time I didn't run away. Something good had happened and I was celebrating. Something made me tell this family that I was Arth-uhh... England's daughter. I'm about a century or two younger than him." That was close. Papa always said that nations chose human names and shared them with their closest and most trusted allies. I don't know how close he is to these people and I almost said his human name. Though I guess I shouldn't worry. Papa said the name thing wasn't a rule, it was more like a way of showing mutual respect and it's an intimate thing between lovers.
"I am not a piece of new land. In fact, I have no land at all."
"Then how can you be classed as a nation?" Germany asked.
"I'm not. My name is The British Magical Community. My people share the same land as England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales' people. Since I moved in with England, I had dreams about a boy. Three nights ago I saw this boy again in a cemetery being tortured. I awoke screaming in pain and once the pain had subsided, Scotland arrived and explained I had connected fully to my people and the land they live on. As a young girl, I could pick up on the general feeling of my people but I didn't know that these feelings weren't my own. I am also quite talented at magic though only because I possess much of England's magic and also a little of Scotland's. I ask you all, not to throw me aside or ignore me or make fun of me and my family simply because we believe in magic and still use it. I stand before you, a new personification, simply meeting the rest of the world for the first time. I ask just this of you all... accept me."