Of the Earth

Life is funny. It never gives you what you asked for, well not any of the important stuff anyway. I came from a long line of earth benders so it was kind of disappointing to find out that I take after dad. Now, me and mom have nothing in common. Water doesn't even feel right when I touch it. The stuff is always trying to slip from my fingers like it knows I don't know what I'm doing, and yet I still manage to push it in the right direction more or less. Sometimes, I don't know how I manage that much. Mom doesn't know how to teach me.

"He seemed nice," Canada says absently. For a minute, I don't know who he's talking about. My mind is on other much more worrying troubles. Then, I smile. Yeah, I have to admit I liked meeting someone who was like me, struggling. My smile fades away. We've been walking too long. Mom is obviously taking us far away from here.

"Mom didn't thinks so," I tell him. Canada remains as cheerful as ever and just as fearless.

"Mom doesn't like anybody," he pipes up. I wince, waiting for mom to butt in. She doesn't. Her mind is also on much more worrying troubles. Personally, I think she's overreacting. So, they have a different skin color. Dad, did too, and he was a nice man from what I remember. Then again, maybe, mom remembers it differently.

"She liked dad," I offer anyway. How else would we have been born? I didn't really believe that "we sprung from the earth" story anymore. The elder was pretty up front about it when I asked.

"That's because he never talked," Canada says smartly.

Oh, Matthew, you always know just what to say. I squeeze his hand and look back at mom. Her attention is not on us and instead on the potential threats surrounding us, me sneaking away earlier must have made her paranoid.

"Come on, we need to keep moving," she says, confirming my suspicions. I don't really want to lose the one water bending friend I have. I drag my feet, making it difficult for mom to keep going. She gets the hint and sighs, giving me a "this better be important" look.

"Why?" I ask, now that I have her full attention. Mom looks away and gazes at the coastline.

"The seashore is getting a little crowded," she says cryptically. I've seen exactly one settlement so far, and the one before that gave up and decided to stick with us instead of bothering with their "civilized" lifestyle that left them half starved when winter came around. As far as I'm concerned, we still run the place, and we should pity them.

"But the new people seem nice," I say instead. Sure, the strange caterpillar man had a weird way of showing it, but he definitely cared about me. Why else would he ask why I was all alone when we met?

"The less we have to do with them, the better, trust me," she says as stubborn as ever. Good thing, I get that from her.

"Are you 'fraid of getting hurt again cause dad left? That's what France said," Canada cuts in, and the comment definitely strikes a nerve. So much so, she accidentally passes our camp. I don't say anything. We're not going anywhere for too long without our supplies or my mom's horse. I need more time if I'm going to convince her to stay in this area. There might even be other more skilled water benders around that I haven't met yet.

"France is an ass, and I don't want you around him anymore" mom says, picking him up. Apparently, I can walk the rest of the way because I'm the ungrateful child that is slowing her down.

"But he's my friend," Matthew whines. I roll my eyes. All that really means is the blond man has fed him plenty of sweets. I wouldn't mind some actually, but so far, he's stuck to Canada's borders. From what I heard from mom that is no longer the case.

"A friend who is only a friend when it suits him, is not a friend you want to have," she says, scolding Canada. He mopes and his eyes are as big as the glittering large rocks at the bottom of the river.

"But," he says weakly. I let out an exaggerated sigh. I hate that mom won't let us make new friends. New people are always coming to see us and look around. It's funny to see them freak out when they have to deal with something they aren't familiar with.

"Please, trust me," she says. There is an urgency to her voice that worries me. Mom never tells us when something is wrong.

"Okay, " Matthew mumbles, backing down easily.

"Hey now, you don't even know your own people yet and more are moving in from places I can only imagine. Do not take these stranger's offerings at face value. Take your time, get to know them, and wait until you're big and strong before offering your friendship, then, my young ones, you will be on more equal footing." Mom finally realizes that we've passed our campsite some time ago, and neither of us said a word. She stops and sighs.

"So, I should wait?" Canada asks. She nods and picks me up too. I freeze. I'm getting a talking to next because of my recent rebellious streak, especially after my encounter with eyebrows.

"You're reluctant to leave the coastline. Tell me why," she says. Canada does his best to ignore us so as not to prolong my suffering. I'm not brave enough to tell her a bold face lie. So, I just spit out what I've wanted ever since I discovered I was a water bender.

"There are water benders coming from all over. Maybe, one of them could teach me," I say, a little afraid of what my mother will think of me. This is the first time that I've openly gone against her view of the world. Her immediate reaction is surprise as if she's never considered that there might honestly be something that she needs from the strangers. That only lasts a second as she tries to figure out a way around this.

"These strangers are not the first to come. We will search the tribes for someone to teach you. Besides, the man did not seem very skilled, too much raw power, not enough discipline," she says, giving her final verdict. My education will have to wait. At the end of the day, she will associate with the people that come, but she does not trust them, even her relationship with France is not as amiable as it once was. Oh well, at least, I've bought myself some time. The coast is the most logical place to look for more water benders.

"If that's what you think is best," I say, nervous that I'm consciously defying my mother. I do not think they will treat me unkindly if I ask for their help. Of course, my betrayal is all hypothetical. I'm sure my mom will not risk taking us into town any time soon, not after we've had a taste of their company and liked it. We reach camp soon enough. The sun is still high in the sky, and my mother leaves us alone to hunt. I think of wandering off, maybe to find the man or better yet a town. My brother is the one that starts walking into the forest first. I hastily catch up to him, panicking in a way that I'm sure mom panicked when I went missing a few hours ago.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find France," my brother says as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

"You're not going to find him," I tell him firmly, ready to drag him back to camp. Unfortunately, we're evenly matched and I only manage to drag him a few inches forward.

"Francis told me where I can find him. He's nearby. I thought you'd want to come with me," Canada pouted. I let him go. Huh?

"Why would I want to do that?" I ask. Matthew grins.

"Cause he's a water bender, and I bet he's better than the other guy," he says. My first instincts are to defend the man. England wasn't too bad, just raw, like mom said. I don't want to get Canada mad though in case he is right. Since Canada is my brother, I'm sure he'd be willing to teach me.

"Sure let's go. It's not far, right? " Canada nods furiously. And, he is right, despite my suspicions. We don't walk very far before we hear men's laughter and the clinking of glasses. It's a campsite, much like ours but different. Their tents are larger and not made of any animal or plant I've ever seen. I have second thoughts. There are a lot of people here, and we are very small and easy to catch. Canada runs forward without a care.

"Papa!" he shouts. I've heard that word before, and it makes me weary. Spain tried to get me to call him that, but he wasn't very interested in playing with me so I never really gave him my affection. (He was looking for gold or whatever.) Matthew calls France papa wholeheartedly, and I finally understand what mom meant. We won't be a family for long if we drift apart like this. This man plans to take Matthew away, and I let him come here. It's my fault if we lose my brother.

"Matthew, I'm so glad to see you. Would you like some sweets?" Canada nods shyly and Francis signals to one of the men to get sweets.

"I've brought someone," Canada says conversationally. France and his men finally notice my head sticking out of the bushes. I duck down, wanting to crawl away and get mom, but it's too late. They have seen me, and some burly guy grabs me. The other man finally comes back with sweets.

"Ah, so, you are Matthew's twin. I was hoping to find you," he says, taking me from the burly man. He slips the man a shiny coin for his trouble. I'm close to tears, none of this feels right. We need to leave now.

"Don't looks so upset. Here have a candy," Francis says. The candy is sweet, and I do calm down. Maybe, France isn't so bad. Besides, these guys don't seem to be in any hurry to leave.

"Can you do tricks like your brother?" he asks. I'm still sucking on the candy, and I look at him dubiously, playing dumb. I'd rather not attract his attention that way I can run away and tell mom if anything does go wrong.

"You must be able to. I'm sure of it, being what you are. It is rare for creatures like us not to be gifted," Francis says, stroking my hair. He's trying to coax an answer out of me. I shrug. Matthew glares at me.

"Yeah, he can. My brother is looking for someone to teach him," Canada says, frustrated by my silence. I know he is trying to do something nice for me, but Mom's right. We can't trust these people just because they give us things.

"Oh? If that's the case, I can teach you little one, but of course, learning to be as fabulous as me will take some time. Time that I cannot spend here," Francis says. I have a sinking feeling. Here comes the trap.

"What do you mean?" I say, trying to subtly get off his lap. He finds a way to keep me in place so it looks like he's coddling me. I hate being coddled.

"I mean that I will be returning to Europe soon, and if you're anything like your brother-"

"I'm not," I say, eyes watering. I don't want to go.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be magnifique anyway," Francis says, taking Matthew's hand while he holds me in place under his arm.

"You want to come to. Don't you Matthew?" Francis asks. Matthew, at least, has the sense to be skeptical, despite his naivete. He looks at me.

"Alfred's coming too right?" I'm done giving France the benefit of the doubt. I start squirming out of his grip. Francis lets go of Matthew's hand for a minute and takes out another candy. This one looks different. I try to keep it out of my mouth, but Francis forces me to swallow the candy. I feel dizzy and very sleepy all of a sudden.

"You want to come, don't you little one" he asks. I'm very comfortable where I am now, and I nod sleepily. Maybe, we won't be going very far.

"See, you won't be alone," Francis says, offering his free hand to Matthew. He hesitates but takes it.

"You'll love my place. It's gorgeous," Francis says. Matthew looks at him in amazement.

"Better than the trading posts you built in my place?" Francis grins.

"Much better," he promises. He signals to the men again, and they start to pack. I feel like this should scare me, but I'm very slow to act. I yawn and lift myself up using France's shirt. He pushes me back down with little effort, and I make a little indignant sound. Francis shushes me.

"Go back to sleep little one. We should reach the boat in an hour or two." Since I can't do anything else, I do something I haven't done in a longtime and cry, hoping my mother will hear me and save us. I don't get what I ask for. Instead, eyebrows comes out of the bushes. He's not the same as before. There is a hatred in his eyes that I've never seen. I don't think he will make the situation better.

"Going somewhere France?" Francis is pale and afraid of . . . eyebrows. Even now with his hate filled eyes, I don't see how anyone could be afraid of him. It's enough to make me laugh. England points his sword at France's neck. Francis backs away slowly and it's easy to see who has the upper hand here, at least while the men are away, and Francis's hands are full. I make a choice. One, I'm not sure if I'll regret later or not.

"I want to go with England," I yell, fighting off my sleepiness as best I can. It comes out as a low murmur but their shocked looks assure me that I've been heard. England puts away his sword, and I wonder if I've done something wrong for him to forfeit so easily.

"You know the rules, France. America has chosen, and I'm afraid he hasn't chosen you," England says. France sighs and passes me to England. I cling to him for dear life, knowing that if nothing else, I hopefully won't be going on a boat today, unless I've only chosen one captor over another. I shut my eyes. Don't think about that right now. You're safe right now. Today, England is the better choice.

"No fair, I only had a few minutes to charm him. I wanted the set," France whines.

"You and I both, France, speaking of which, Matthew would you like to come with us. I'm taking you both back to your mother" England says. I sigh in relief. So, I have made the right choice. Now that I'm in Arthur's arms, Matthew has lost his nerve and runs to England. France is heartbroken.

"But Matthew, I thought you wanted to come with me." Matthew uses Arthur's long trench coat to obscure his face and answers back bashfully.

"I still don't want to go alone." Disappointed, Francis flips his hair back and shakes his head. I stick my tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and crouches down to pat Matthew's head.

"Tres bien, I will try again another day. Maybe, by then, that one will have gotten sick of you," he says, getting up and giving England a look. Arthur scoffs.

"I'm not so impatient that I'll blow my chance as easily as you just did," Arthur says.

"We shall see. I'm in no hurry, but we both know you are running out of time," France says. I don't really understand, but I keep a tight hold on Arthur all the same in case a fight breaks out. England stiffens and he's oddly serious.

"I'm sure my majesty will understand if I take a long leave of absence," England says. I tug at his collar. I want to leave already. He rubs my back, and I'm only barely awake enough to hear Francis's rebuttal.

"I meant your queen is getting old, Angleterre. I know you're not stupid enough to leave your place unattended when she finally kicks the bucket," France says. England laughs.

"Canada, step back, and you, America, close your eyes," I do, and the last thing I hear is Francis's girlish scream.