Children of the Circle
A Hetalia story.
Chapter Six: The Eyes of Everything
But even with one, bittersweet moment, a daunting task still awaits them; and it mocks them as the shadows of the dusk, where an island only visible by its utter bleakness when the sun sits, was seen. America was the first to spot the curvature on the horizon—and in his haste, nearly fell overboard in his excitement.
"We're almost there…" He says, his leg bouncing sporadically. It feels like hours had passed since he first saw it, now with the twilight settling in and the other countries sound asleep aside from a Canadian, an American, and a Frenchman.
"It might seem like we are close mon ami," says France, manning the ship as the nighttime waves crashed against the helm. "But it still a distance off. I would say we will be docked by morning."
This doesn't damper the nervous feeling boiling in the pit of Alfred's stomach. How long has it been since he visit this country? Too long, it feels—and now, nothing would be like how he remembered it. He is almost scared of what he would discover, but tries to discredit this ill feeling to being sea sick. He hasn't traveled by boat in almost 50 years. It is basically a flash from the past.
"Don't get too excited yet Alfred…" Canada speaks, Kumajiro perched in his lap. He knew that glimmer in his brother's eyes; he is hopeful—too hopeful.
"How can I not be excited," America turns to the wide expansion of water that sloshes against the boat, the only thing hindering him from finding his former caretaker. "We'll finally get to see England again… after almost a year…"
The Frenchman and the Canadian exchange looks, still haunted by Norway's words.
"Basically, this group is out to kill all magic users because they are otherwise 'tainted'."
"This doesn't add up…" Matthew quietly purses his lips, speaking so softly that the Frenchman could barely hear him over the whisper of the tides.
"What do you mean Mathieu?"
The Canadian shakes his head, clutching Kumajiro tighter to his chest. "Why did they decide now to take England and his brothers? They've been doing magic for a long time."
"Perhaps they only just found out."
He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "That's impossible. Everyone knew they were capable of magic… even civilians…"
"If you think you're such a big person now, then deal with this!"
The Canadian could remember it vividly, his back aching and his uniform darkening with sweat, as he watched the magic being summoned in the conjurer's hand.
"Let this be a curse to you, for to be a country you can't undo. On this soil a battle will rage, another war for the coming days. Mark my words you will fight again, but this time it will be against your own men."
The magic released, strains of light that struck Alfred through the heart. He stumbled, but stood against it, the bright red magic clashing against the blue of his uniform.
Canada remembered. That was in front of brigades of shoulders on both side, and even though it was long time ago… This organization should have still been around.
"There's no way they could've not known."
France frowns a little, unable to open up Canada's mind and see what purses his mouth into such a distasteful pucker.
"All right." France reasons, running fingers through his hair. "So why do you think they attacked now, not earlier."
Matthew thought about this. He thought about this until dawn began to flicker on the horizon, capturing the blue haze of the night in a dazzling display of colors; but still he had no answers. He could only come up with a theory, with nothing to back it up.
"Maybe something happened that made them decide to make their move now."
France's eyes remain fixated on the blob of the island. He couldn't be exactly sure what his old enemy would be up to. "Perhaps you're right Mathieu…"
The sun is still in its infant state when they near the docking area. Alfred had been quick to wake everyone up, only to return to see utter disaster. The water has swelled the whole docking area, sinking the wooden panels to the ground. High tides have even reached the waterside building and washed them away, leaving the remnants splintered out on the path.
"Scheiße…" The German curses quietly as Italy clings to his arm.
"What happened..?" Feliciano whimpers, and Germany couldn't help but pat his head.
"A tsunami…" France calls above the whipping wind, which had increased the closer they neared the docks. "Or a very high tide. Accidents like that happen constantly on the water."
Except, all the countries have a similar feeling; they don't think this is an accident.
"Do you think civilians still live here?" Belarus speaks, as Russia continually tries to take a step away from her, only for her to close the distance likewise.
"Doubtful at best." Japan shutters at the memories that graces his mind. "They probably moved inland, to some place less damaged for shelter."
"Then England is somewhere in the middle." America clarifies, his knuckles cracking as he clenches them, the sight of a wrecked country heavy on his soul.
"No." All their attention turns to Norway, who curses, ducking his head behind the book. "That would be too obvious of a place to be in."
"So are you saying they are out here somewhere?"
"I'm not saying that…"
"Then what?"
The Norwegian sighs. As much as he hated Denmark's obnoxious presence, he was thankful for when the blond would start talking for him. Out here, he doesn't get such luxury.
"I don't know…"
Canada is still pondering over last night's conversation to pay attention. He just couldn't understand what could have happened. It couldn't have been a coincidence. There was a reason; but what.
"Are we going to stop any time soon?" The American asks impatiently, ready to jump off the ship.
"We have to find a place not destroyed... give me time." France sighs tiredly. He hoped for what it was worth that they would find England and America would finally have some peace. He has never been this worn out since America and Canada had been little children.
"While we are waiting, we can come up with a plan…" Germany says.
"We won't have much of a plan if we don't know what's in there, da."
China scoffs. "It's better than going in there blindly. I'm too old to be spontaneous. We need some idea of what we plan to do."
"Find England!" Everyone pointly ignores America's interjection.
Canada perks up a little, when a possibility surfaces in his mind. He glances over at Norway.
"Hey Norway?" The Nordic wouldn't meet his eyes, but he knows he is listening. "Why can't you just make England appear?"
Everyone's eyes are on him again, and the book hardly provides a protection from America's burning gaze. He tches under his breath, and sucking in some air, he slowly lowers the shield.
"There's some kind of protection that prevents me from using my magic here."
Something dawns on all the party members. Maybe they had just carelessly assumed that the moment they arrived Norway could take care of it. What's the point of a magic user without any magic? The point of the matter is, there wasn't.
"Once we land, France can take you home." Canada squeaks a little when the attention suddenly shift to him. He too isn't used to being noticed. "It's dangerous if you stay since they are after magic users. Thank you for helping us anyway. "
"There's a problem with that Canada. I will not leave you." France states, causing the Canadian to give a small pout.
"I'll be okay."
The Frenchman shakes his head. There is much more to this story than what met the eye. It would be extremely dangerous, he knew. He couldn't just leave Matthew.
"We don't know what could be going on. I'm staying."
The Norwegian mumbles. "Great."
"France I'll be okay I promise. It's not like I'll be alone." The Canadian tries to reason, but France wouldn't have it.
"Non."
"Um… guys…" Japan tries to interrupt, but the duo blandly ignores him.
"You have to trust me on this one." Canada crosses his arms.
"It's not that I don't trust you Mathieu. I just don't trust the people that could be inside the country right now."
"Guys…"
"I'm grown up now you know. I can take care of myself. I am just a strong as Alfred."
"That's not the point I—"
"Everyone!" The pure shock of hearing Japan raise his voice silences the two in an instant, allowing them to finally comprehend why he is trying to get their attention. On the remnants of intact dock squats something—no, someone—who is watching the ship as it draws nearer.
"I have a bad feeling about this…" Germany mutters, his hand ghosting over the holster at his side.
"Maybe he is friendly." Russia leans over the side of the boat. "Hello comrade! If you try anything we will kill you da~!"
China smacks his back. "Don't say that stupid! You'll only piss him off!"
So many things are running through America's mind as he joins Russia's side, staring the man down. He could know about England.
"Do you know where England is?" He asks, causing him to receive a hit from China too, until both him and Russia are comically draped over the side of the ship.
"Stop yelling!"
Abruptly, the man raises to his full stature as the boat begins to pass a yard away from the dock. He takes assured steps forward, and as America lifts his upper body, he watches as he steps off the dock.
"Hey dude—"
And he floats.
It is like there is some invisible stairway beneath his feet, because he is definitely floating above the water. He moves his other foot from the dock, and defying the laws of gravity, he does not plummet to the ocean below. Instead, he proceeds to walk until he stops right next to the vessel and steps down onto the railing.
Belarus is the quickest to be at his throat, holding a knife to his jugular and prepared to use any means necessary if he is hostile. Russia, even for a moment, beams with pride at his sister.
"What do you want?" Belarus demands, the interrogative enhanced with a small pressure to the blade. The man gives a wicked smile.
"I want nothing. I actually came with a warning." He replies, his hand searching through a pouch at his side. As he is about to pull something out, Germany beats him to it, whipping out his gun before he could think of moving.
"Stop moving, and say your warning or I will shoot you." He says, pushing Italy to stay behind him. The man gives a chuckle, as though as his life isn't in danger at all.
"You all are a lively bunch. For countries."
Canada bites his lip. He couldn't have known. "How do you know that…?"
The man raises the hand that isn't in the pouch to his ears. "A little birdie told me."
Something about this infuriates America. It makes him want to rip off the mast and smack him with it. Clenching his fists tightly, he glares at him.
"Who are you, and what are you doing? Do you have something to do with the Children of the Circle?"
The man feigns injury, like he is truly shocked that they would interrogate him. "Honestly so many questions."
America grasps the ships railing as a warning that the man is smart enough to detect, and smiling mischievously, he decides to selectively answer some of their questions.
"My name is Kodiak. Yes, I know where England is. Will I tell you? No. Like I said, I am here to give you a warning."
Canada could sense that there is a very thin tether keeping his brother from snapping. He has to divert the situation, and quickly if he expects Alfred not to kill this man.
"What is your warning then..?"
The man tsks him, shaking a finger. "You are almost as impatient as your brother."
Matthew could hear his heart thumping in his ears. How did he…?
"I am sorry for being out spoken." Japan speaks slowly, almost tenderly. "But we are in a hurry to find our friend. If you could give us the warning now, we could start looking for him."
At this, he receives a snort. It is obvious the man only wanted to talk to two people, that being America and Canada. Everyone else is a nuisance. This and the strange, chilling feeling has Norway on edge.
"I would give you the warning. But it requires the gun and the knife to be off me."
Belarus and Germany make no moves to give into his demand, but the Canadian knows one side has to give. Going over to the German, he places a hand on his shoulder, and very reluctantly he holsters the gun; but he keeps one hand on it, just in case.
"Belarus can you please move away…?" Belarus wouldn't dare admit that she has a bit of the soft spot for the Canadian. At his gentle words, she applies a little pressure to the knife before she pulls away as a reminder of how easily she could slit his throat.
Now no longer being threatened, the man tosses them a creepy grin. "Here's your warning. Leave."
"Hell no." America growls. He wouldn't abandon his caretaker, not again. He needs them right now, and the American would be damned if he didn't rescue him like a hero should."
"That's your death wish."
"I'll kill you first before that happens—"
"Alfred." Canada insists. "Please. Let me handle this okay?"
"I'm going to teach this son of a bitch a lesson—"
"Alfred."
Finally, the American raises his hands in defeat. He knows Canada is fairly intelligent, and if he wants to get England back he couldn't lose his cool. "Alright. I'm done."
The same furious feeling still boils inside of him, but he ignores it, knowing there is one thing the Canadian is very good at—skillfully getting information. If he could play it just right, he could get this man talking and he could reveal a lot about what they need to know.
"That ability you used—when you walked off the bridge—that was pretty good." The man watches Canada, searching for an alter motive to his words. "Was there something invisible that we just couldn't see that you walked on?"
Seeing no harm in the question, Kodiak says. "No. That was my own ability that did that."
"England, my former caretaker could do that too." Canada continues. "He was able to manipulate magic. Is that what you can do?"
There is a long pause, and for a moment he squeezes his eyes shut, afraid he has just screwed up.
"Yes. But my magic is pure."
Every party member at that moment associates the word pure with the book that rests in Norway's hands. That is it. He just revealed he is a part of the Children of the Circle.
"You bastard!" America roars, running at him with a fist raised. "You took England!"
He goes for the punch, but the man is quick to step off the ship, using his ability to levitate out of his reach.
"Give him back!"
"America stop it!" Canada rushes to his brother's side, trying to push him back when he attempts to climb onto the railing. "You have to calm down!"
"I swear to God if you don't give England back I will gut you like a fish!" America is in a whole other mode, scrabbling to get free of his brother and reach the man that took Arthur away from him. He could just imagine the way his bones would crackle in his hands; and just as he is free, another set of hands grab him, and then another, and another, all preventing him from jumping off the ship. Even his impressive strength failed him.
"You are quite loud too. I'm surprised he could have even put up with you." Kodiak comments, causing Alfred to shove against the companions that stand in his way. He knows he is talking about England.
"Don't talk about him like you know him!" He hisses darkly, kicking in his direction although he isn't close to hitting him.
Kodiak boredly watches him, as if he imagines him to be less impressive once provoked. "I do know him. Quite well actually. We talk all the time—well I mostly talk, and he mostly screams."
If America could, he would've thrown everyone that held him down overboard if that meant he could get his fingers around Kodiak's throat. This bastard deserves to die the most horrible and painful death he could come up with—and he planned to deliver too, if Kodiak hadn't had other ideas.
Looking up at the sun, he deduces it is probably his time to go.
"I guess if you are stupid enough to advance into this country then we will meet again." He says, taking a step away before he remembers something with an 'ah'. Again, his hand goes fishing in his pouch, and this time he is able to pull out its contents.
"In case some of you needed evidence to what I have said, here you go." He tosses it on board, the roundness of the object causing it to roll upon impact, forcing Italy to chase after it. "Don't be stupid. Just turn around."
With that, Kodiak descends into the wreckage of the former country, just an Italy gets his hands on the object and picks it up. One look at it has him screaming, even crying, nearly throwing it back where he found it as he wildly wipes his hands on any fabric he could reach. Everyone is at his side, wanting to see what it is, and only to regret it soon after as Italy directs his tears to Germany's shirt.
The object Kodiak had thrown at them was an eyeball, its film oozing onto deck, mixing with the strings of blood red nerves that attached to its end.
An eye with a green iris to be exact.
Sorry for the wait. Expect more to come.
-Soul Spirit-
