I apologize before hand if I did not get the words or accents right. I used google translate for this and my computer does not do accents, well I don't know how to set up that program, so please just bare with the European language not having accents when they should.
Declaimer: I don't own Hetalia, only the OCs and plot idea. The song Asa to Yoru no Monogatari belongs to Sound Horizon.
Chapter 7: We Meet Again
The box hit the floor and the darkness began to shed itself away into ashes to reveal a silver box with just a few hits of the original blacks on it. Arthur, the shadow still gripping his leg and holding him back, tried to reach for it, but the box opened itself up first and blue lights sprung out, soon followed by a silver clock slowly rising up.
"No," Arthur whispered. "No. Ack!" He tried to pull away from the shadows. "Damn this cursive seal…" he held onto his chest, tears willing up in his eyes. "Damn those girls for releasing the my limiters all at once and than left me dying on the bloody bleeding floor… and curse that Bloody Cherisher Cat for this pain. Ack!" The clock began to glow and so did the symbol on Arthur's chest, covered behind his hand.
The piano sounded throughout the darkness, followed by the violin and a ticking sound.
Alfred found himself surrounded by darkness and old shaped clocks appearing at every corner he turned and changing shapes with every seconds ticking by.
The story of the morning life begins
A girl's voice rang out within the darkness and Alfred turned every which way, trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from, or at least find someone other than himself in this place.
And the evening that life ends
Another girl sang.
Ah… this loneliness of ours
Now a male voiced joined the two.
Bears resemblance to a carved jewel
The meaning of life's beginning
The scene flashed to a young America standing up from the tall grass and looking out onto the horizon. Than, he turned around and gave off a big smile. Alfred thought the child had seen him and was now running towards him, but he was wrong. The child ran past him and into the arms of an awaiting England. Alfred watched with envious eyes at the two's happiness.
The meaning of life's ending
The same woman in blue fell in the darkness, tears in her eyes.
You are alive right now
Revolutionary America now stood, his back turned to Alfred. Just as he shifted his gaze towards Alfred, the old flag of America appeared out of nowhere and wrapped itself around him. Alfred tried to reach out to his younger self, who walked away from him, the old colonial flag going with him.
The fifth horizon
Alfred stopped as light shone from the darkness, the sun rising, and younger America began to walk toward it.
Ah… I wonder if there's a story there…?
Alfred covered his eyes at the blinding light, and when he opened them, he found himself watching one of the battles during the American Revolution pass him by, and than he saw young America and his troops in front of a river, looking ready to cross. Finally, Alfred saw the White House burning in the background. Canada was standing over him; his foot on America's chest and a murderous look in his eyes. America was crying.
"Get it through your thick head, America," Canada growled out, his voice laced with venom and making Alfred flinch. "Unlike you, I don't want to leave England."
The fire burnt brighter and blinded Alfred's line of vision.
Crying all the way
We came alone the way
Francis found himself alone and in darkness. He'd heard the music play out, and tried to look where it was coming from in hopes of finding an exit. As he ran, chasing after the horizon, Francis noticed the images flashing past him, the images from his past.
There was he and little England, than him and Scotland before and after their breaking apart due to religious differences, and finally, the 100-year war. Francis closed his eyes at Jeanne's burning, holding down the aching in his heart and pushing forward without looking back.
Holding the same sorrow in our breasts
As he ran, Francis can make out the time France met and spent with little Canada, and he smiled at those warm memories. Before it shifted to him letting little Canada walk away with England. Francis knew he had cried that day and had wanted to do something to take his little boy back, but there was nothing he could do. France could do nothing, but watched as another man took Canada, Matthew, the little boy Francis thought of as his own son, away from him and felt his heart being torn apart.
Than the scene shifted and Francis saw France pointing his gun at little Seychelles, the first time they meet. After that, he gave her the two red ribbons to tie her hair with and than he saw France carrying her on his shoulder as they walked along the beach, happy and content. She had been a great distraction, a replacement for Canada... However, he rarely had time for her due to his trying to get Matthew back from Arthur and France's many battles with other nations, mainly England.
And than England came and took her away too. Granted he'd actually sold her out to him, in a way. But after that warm goodbye, which wasn't as bad as Francis had thought it'd be. It certainly didn't make him cry, just a little sad. He didn't see her again after that, not until a least half a century or so later, when he went back to visit her only to see her all grown up and reminding him of Jeanne.
But than she was taken away again, or rather, kidnapped, by England back to London with him for "proper" training on how to be a lady.
The next time France saw her again would be at least 30 years or so after World War II, when she decided to declare her independence from Great Britain and regain some of her lost freedom. However, she still stood by with England as one of his Common Wealth nations despite Francis' many attempts of talking her out of it. He had even gone to such great lengths as to even kidnap her from Arthur's mansion while he had been away on a business trip, one that he could not easily leave nor could he avoid, for doing so may become the death of England's muggle population, and Francis knew that.
Laughing all the way, we go along the way
Off past the distant horizon
Finally, Francis reached the end and there, he found his Napoleon self bearing his blade down on Holy Roman, who was kneeling underneath him, looking up at him and daring France to try and kill him. Than, Prussia showed up in his old clothing, looking at the scene with a frown on his face, and his eyes narrowed accusingly at Francis, almost as if he could see him.
"No," Francis whispered, shaking his head. "No. NO!" He reached out to stop his younger self, but was unable to as the scene faded into pieces and Francis looked up after it. Tears fell down his face as he held out his hand to catch the fallen ashes.
"I'm sorry," he quietly whispered out.
Coming from lips
Ah… Sing my song…
La vie…
A story connecting everyday?
"Well, that was a nice show," said a voice from behind him. Francis turned around at the British accent, thinking it was Arthur.
However, whom he found was not Arthur, but a blond haired, green eyes teen sitting on a round table, under a tree, sipping tea.
The setting was dark, but it was a forest and they were next to a glowing blue pound filled with different colored lotus flowers in it. The table was also made out of vines, woods, leaves, and flowers as well. The vines faintly reminded Francis of the ones they'd come in contact with on their way up the tower, and he wondered about the rose colored flower the blonde was playing with the tips of his figure, twisting the vines and holding it above ground.
"I must say," continued the blonde, causally waving his hand and creating more seats, tea sets and silverwares on the table using his vines to give them form.
As soon as the shapes of the silverwares were formed, the vines crystallized and turned into a dark green color before shattering away to reveal silver metal plates, forks and knives. As soon as the plates appeared, snacks and sweets appeared with it.
"The burning reminds me of the time with my own wife's accusation of witchcraft…" the blond continued.
Francis did not even bother to question his words after the explanation he got from Jack.
"Bonjour Monsieur (hello mister)," the teen greeted in perfect French, grouting back Francis' memories of young England speaking fluent French, and his eyes widened. How could he have forgotten that French was England's national langue for over 300 years? Francis wanted to cuss at that.
"Soin de prendre un siege et le the avec moi (care to take a seat and have some tea with me)?" The teen's question brought Francis out of his thoughts and Francis awkwardly took a seat on the green chair decorated with rose colored flowers.
The smiling teen pored a cup of tea of Francis and handed it to him. "Ahh," said Francis, taking the cup and smelling in the sweet flowery sent. "Merci." Francis took a sip of the gold-brown colored tea and found himself relaxing from the experience. Then he opened his eyes and smiled at the blond.
Francis was suspicious, yet cannot help feeling like he knew this boy and respected him greatly, as if he was his leader. But Francis knew he'd never meet the boy before. And not only that, but this boy had a British accent and was obviously British, if his manners and liking for tea and sweets were anything to go by.
"Desole (sorry)," he said to the blond. "Mais je crains que je na pas tres bien saisi votre nom. Donc, si je peux demander, tu t'appelles comment (but I'm afraid I didn't quite catch your name. So, if I may ask, what is your name)?"
The blond put his cup boy, thinking. "Hmm," he said, switching to English. "My name hah? Eh bien, je dois beaucoup de noms (well, I have many names)… Mais je suppose (but I suppose)…" He looked up at Francis. "Evan. Je m'appelle Evan Walker. Heureux de vous rencontrer a nouveau, Monsieur Francis Bonneyfoy (pleased to meet you again, Mr. Francis Bonnefoy)." He held out a hand for Francis to shake.
Francis came out of his shock and shook Evan's awaiting hand. "I'm sorry," he said through forced smile. "But have we met before?" They let go of each other's hands. "You said we have, mais excusez-moi for not remembering where."
Evan just smiled. "Tell me, Monsieur Francis," he said, taking up his cup. "Do you believe in another life? A life before this one?"
"You mean… reincarnations?" he asked. "Oui, I do." He thought back to Lisa.
Evan smiled at his answer before turning his head to the side. "Vous joindre a nous (care to join us)?" he said to the darkness beside him. "Monsieur France?"
Francis was startled by that comment and opened his eyes to stare at the teen only to shift it off to the side, to where the teen was looking at. And that was when he saw it, his Napoleon self stepping out of the darkness, a frown on his face and a serious look in his eyes as he bowed to the blond haired teen before shifting his gaze to Francis, who flinched and tried to forget about his bloodied sword that had dealt the final blow on Holy Rome.
Crying all the way
We go along the way
Holding the same sorrow in our breasts
Laughing all the way
We go along the way
Antonio smiled, gripping his axe in his hand, and walked toward the horizon.
Off past the distant horizon
Coming from lips
Ah… Sing my song…
La vie…
A story connecting each of us
Antonio walked out of the light and came to find a tea party being held in the dark, wrapped dimension before him.
"Ah," said the host sitting at the head of the table. "Senor Antonio! Just in time for tea. Come, join us!" The blond motioned for him to sit at the table full of dolls sitting off to the side.
But those dolls weren't ordinary dolls though, no. They were talking, and flying all around, and were actually moving, just like this dimension. It hung it mid air as if in outer space, and although the pasties and silverwares stayed on the table, some things were still flying around here and there. To make matters worse, that boy had a black top hat on his head, decorated with playing cards, flowers, cloth, and feathers. And there was a white rabbit off to one side of him, while a black one was on another side. He called the white one Alyssa and the black one Alice when he offered tea and cookies to them. And although those two dolls didn't move like the rest, their eyes seemed to be shining with life, unlike the other dolls in this dimension.
Antonio smiled and sat down, leaning his axe on the table.
"Care for some tea?" asked the Briton, holding out a cup of tea for him with a cheerful smile.
"Si, gracias (yes, thank you)," said Antonio, taking the cup and pulling down a chair to sit in it. "You're Oz right? Oz Vessalius?"
Oz put his cup down and said, "Si Senor. It's nice to know that you remembered my name. Even though we don't often interact much, it still warms this old soul's heart to know that you know my name, or at least, one of my many names, little Tony." Spain opened his eyes in confusion at being called little by a kid who should be younger than him.
"Sooo," Oz continued, passing a pastry into Antonio's plate. "I heard that you wanted to become a separate person from your country's personal? Is that right?"
"Si!" Antonio quickly answered with a bright smile. "Though, I actually only followed because I wanted to know if…"
"You're worried," Oz pointed out. "Worried that Spain will disappear soon. That you will disappear soon…"
Antonio's eyes saddened over and he looked down. "Si," he admitted. "I believe we are all afraid of disappearing. Even America… with his many states unstable, and some of us countries being pulled apart from both sides by the rising nations… Or in Inglaterra's case, his family breaking apart by trying to declare independence from the UK."
Oz nodded in understanding. "Yes," he agreed, his eyes trailing off to the side. "England has that problem. Has been having it from the very beginning… but back to you, my little friend." His eyes landed on Antonio's focused face. "Your economy is also a great matter of concern, correct?"
Oz placed his hands down on the table and placed his chin on top of it, gazing at Antonio's worried face with a strange knowing look in his ancient eyes. Antonio avoided the blonde's eyes, finding it unnerving. Almost if he could see right through him, right to Antonio's soul, and not the soul of his people. Not Spain.
"Si," Antonio answered, his eyes sad. "Especially because of my economy… But also," he finally looked Oz in the eye. "I don't want to fight with my friends and family because it's what my country wants anymore. I want to be able to stand up for myself and do something. I don't want… I don't want to loss another friend…" Antonio looked down in sadness as he thought of Gilbert before shaking his head. "Not like that. Not ever again."
"Hmm," Oz leaned back into his chair. "Has oido que el senor Espana (You heard that, mister Spain)? Antonio quiere separar ahora (wants to separate now)."
"Si," said a voice coming from where Antonio sat, startling him, as he knew he hadn't said that, yet it was his voice that said it. Than, Antonio watched in surprise as another him stepped out from himself and was now standing next to him, dressed in his old conquering days. Antonio's mouth hung opened as he stared wide-eyed at his younger self. Or should he call him his double instead?
"Escuche (I heard)," continued his conquistador self. "Hola (hello)," he greeted cheerfully, taking off his hat. "Puedo sentarme (may I sit)?"
"Si." Oz replied in his usual cheerful voice. "Adelante (go ahead). Ayudate (help yourself)."
"Gracias!" Spain sat down next to Antonio and helped himself to tea and sweets. Antonio was still gaping at him, wide-eyed like a fish out of water.
"Who are you?" he asked. When Spain turned to him with confusion in his smiles, he tried again. "Quien eres?"
"Estoy Espana, quien mas (I'm Spain, who else)?"
Antonio only stared at him for a long moment before shrugging. "Hm-kay!" He accepted it just like that and went back to eating sweets again, a cheerful smile on his face.
Oz smiled and looked up at the dark sky. "I wonder how things are going with Francis? Elder brother really took a liking to him… as strange as it was." He than returned his gaze to the two Spaniards who were now talking with each other in a friendly manner, and smiled. "Hmm, I wonder when Arthur will be able to escape Hi-chan's shadows and come for tea…?" He took a sip of his tea, his gaze looking upward.
The story of the morning life begins
And the evening that life ends
Ah… this transience of ours
Bears resemblance to a beautiful flower
Arthur, holding Peter in one hand, tried to reach for the black rose that was blooming as the clock ticked away in the background, but he was too late. The flower bloomed and soon, its black petals scattered away and out of Arthur's reach.
"No," Arthur whispered, tears staining his eyes as he stopped resisting the shadows for just a moment. "Alfred…" He held the sleeping Peter closed to his chest and wept in silence.
The windmill of the sun
The cradle of the moon
A story of wandering
A broken doll
A man's corpse
A dark story of wasted time
Matthew found himself standing on a waist land of brown dirt after he'd past the horizon. He looked around, Kumajiro in his arms. Matthew began to walk around the place.
Ah… go and travel around in my place…
I wonder if-
A story of my coming to life exists in this world?
"Mommy!" a voice shouted from behind him and Matthew turned around to find a young him running past and into a brown haired woman's awaiting arms.
"Matthew," said the woman dressed in blue, her hair and red ribbon blowing in the wind as she hugged the child.
Matthew's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the brown haired woman before him.
The racket of coming to life
The windmill of the sun
The peace of going around to death
The cradle of the moon
"Michelle?" Brown eyes turned to Matthew and the woman smiled.
We are wandering around
Windmills swaying in the reminiscence
Traveling around, no matter what land it's in
Let's sing a song
This is-
My story of life ending before it began
Mathias was sailing on a ship, feeling the cool breeze of the wind.
"Ah, I miss this," he said, a contempt smile on his face.
"I'll bet," came a masculine voice from behind him.
Mathias quickly turned around, his axe ready for battle and his eyes narrowed on the intruder.
"Hello, Mathias," waved a black haired teen with interesting blue eyes. The teen was dressed in an all out black suit, but for some reason, Mathias could see an outline of blue coming off of his form.
"Who are you?" Mathias questioned, his eyes suspicious.
"Who am I? How sad that you don't remember." The teen thought about his answer for a moment before giving a reply to his question. "Hmm, I suppose I'll have to reintroduce myself than. But what name…" He thought about if for a moment before nodding in decision. Once decided, the teen jumped off the railing and came to stand in front of Mathias, a big friendly smile on his face and his hand held out in front of him. "Hi. I'm Kenric. Kenric O'Neil, it's nice to meet you again, Simon Mathias Denson."
Even though he knew he shouldn't, Mathias couldn't help his body from shaking the boy's hand. As soon as they touched, a warm feeling of familiarity ran through Mathias' body and he quickly pulled his hand away when he felt the pain on his left side.
"Ack!" he said, touching the spot that burned. "What did you do to me?" he asked the teen.
The teen just smiled. "Nothing," he said. "Just giving you back what was rightfully yours to began with."
Mathias' eyes narrowed dangerously, but the teen didn't flinch away from him. "Who are you?" he asked. "What do you want with me?"
Kenric blinked. "Who am I?" he repeated the question, eyebrow raised. "I already told you, my name is Kenric. As for what I want… well…" He smiled widely like a wolf that caught it's pray right where it wanted, his blue eyes shining.
Than, he disappeared and reappeared again right behind Mathias, a cold hand to his throth as he whispered, "I want you back with me."
Mathias froze at those words, before recomposing himself and swung his axe at the teen, who jumped back a few feet, the wolf-like smile still on his face. "If it wasn't for Jack freezing me up before I came here, I would already be taking you back with me, by force if need me my little Monkey. But than, that would be no fun, now would it?" His eyes narrowed on Mathias' form. "Denmark."
Mathias watched as another version of himself jumped out from him and headed for Kenric, axe raised at the ready and a mad smile on his face. Kenric blocked it with his sword that he pulled out from thin air, the blue gem on his silver ring glowed blue around the hand that pulled the black sword out.
Mathias shrugged. "Yeah, thin air," he whispered. "Why not. Can't get any worse than him standing in the air or…" he looked around. "This. This entire experience…" he face-plumed himself. "Oh, Norge, I need you…"
"Du (You)," his other whispered in a dangerous, yet exited tone.
"Danmark," said Kenric, in Danish.
Denmark's eyes narrowed and his smile widened. "Du," he repeated. "Jeg har ventet pa dig (I've been waiting for you). Alle denne gang (all this time)." He pushed with his axe and Kenric moved back after countering, a frown on his face.
Than, his eyes gazed over a bit. "Ahh, that idiotic baby brother," Kenric whispered. "Can't even keep Arthur…" His eyes returned to normal just as Denmark came back at him. "Je er ked af, men det synes jeg kan ikke holde laenge (I'm sorry, but it seems I can't stay long). Jeg nodt til at ga og gemme Lukcas inden han bliver fanget af Arthur og Jack (I have to go and save Lucas before he gets caught by Arthur and Jack)," he explained. "Jeg haber du kan relatere til jobbet af en olde bror, Danmark (I hope you could relate to the job of an older brother, Denmark). Hvis ikke, end du prove, mindst (if not, than please try, at least)."
"Hmm, fint." Denmark pulled back his axe. "Men jeg forventer, at du komme tilbage og afslutte det med mig, du horer (but I expect you to come back and finish this with me, you hear)?"
"Ja, jeg forstar (yes, I understand)," said Kenric. "Jeg vil falde med en gang imellem, dont du bekymre dig (I'll drop by once in a while, don't you worry)." He than turned to Mathias and smiled, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'll see you later, Mathias! And I promise next time we meet, you'll be back by my side again!" And he disappeared into blue flames.
Ah… even if we can't meet again
You have a story of living right now
Keep singing
So that you won't lose your way
Alfred watched as England wept on the ground, the rain pouring down on them.
"You used to be so… big," America said, before turning away and Alfred swore he locked eyes with the Nation, taking him by surprise. But he was relieved when the nation turned away with his troops.
Than, Alfred looked back at the crying England and his eyes saddened over. "Arthur," he whispered, reaching out a hand, but the strong blowing wind stopped him.
The valley between morning and evening…
The flame flickers…
Seizing the jewel…
Reaching out an arm…
When the windmill turns…
The scene than changed again, and Alfred found himself being pulled forward by some invisible force and looking at a map of a different world as he rushed past them and to an island at the top, hidden within the clouds. He landed in front of the white gate heavenly gate and looked around.
Alfred then looked up and came face to face with the smiling blond who gave him the box.
"Hello Alfred," he greeted, sitting on top of the Chinese gate, and holding out his own golden pocket watch in one hand while the other rested on the rims of the gate. He than closed the watch and jumped down from the gate to land gracefully in front of Alfred. "Had a nice experience going down memory lane?"
Alfred's eyes narrowed. "You," he said.
The child bowed his head in a butler like way. "Eric Kingsley," he introduced himself. "Pleased to meet you again, Alfred F. Jones."
The stardust glitters…
An angel is separated…
A beautiful fantasy…
In alcoholic dreams…
Eric looked off to the side and Alfred followed his gaze. From out of the dark and gray clouds came young Revolutionary Alfred.
"Hello, America," Eric greeted cheerfully.
America, face still serious, bowed his head. "Hello, Lord Eric," he greeted back, before turning to Alfred, who was still a bit shocked to see his younger, more serious self.
The image of England crying alone on the muddy ground came into his mind, and Alfred took an unconscious step back. Eric disappeared like clouds and reappeared behind Alfred, his eyes sharp and hard.
"Kill him, Alfred," he ordered in a strong, deep voice not belonging to that of a child his appearance indicated.
Alfred was startled and he could feel it than. Eric slipped the gold sword into Alfred's hand and had him gripped it tightly.
"Kill him," he commanded, his eyes looking up at Alfred before shifting to America, who shifted his position to face Alfred, his face blank. "And get this over with." Alfred hesitated.
"Come now, Alfred. Do you not you wish to be free of him?"
Alfred slowly lifted his sword and pointed it at America, who just looked back at him blankly. "Come on, Alfred. Just kill him. He's the reason you and Arthur aren't on good terms anymore. He broke your brotherhood with Arthur, made you hurt your brother, Matthew. He made you betray your friends and hurt them. He made you stay out of the war in Europe, Alfred… He made you turn your back on your friends and family. Because of him, you can't become your own person and make your own decisions. Everything you do is decided by what he does and wants, Alfred." He glanced at America, who only stared back with a blank face, as if not caring that he made die and not making any move to escape. "Kill him. And be free of this curse, Alfred."
Alfred hesitated, his hands shaking and face looking uneasy. Than, he remembered Arthur's words from before starting on this journey. "Wait," he said, turning back to Eric. "What will happen to the country if I kill him? What will happen to the land and the people? What will happen to…" Alfred put his sword down, "to us?"
Eric frowned. "Well," he said. "I suppose, someone else will be replacing you…" His eyes trailed off to America. "As for the land and the people… well, you kill America, you kill everything America represents."
Alfred dropped the sword. "…No," he said. "I can't do that. I can't kill him!"
Eric eyes trailed back to Alfred, his face blank. "Why not?" he asked.
"Because!" Alfred looked down. "Because…" Alfred thought about his answer. He thought back to everything that Arthur taught him, and everything he's been through in live, in his time as America. Alfred looked up with realization in his eyes. "He's me. He's a part of me, one I cannot get ride of. At least not yet." He looked away and held a hand to his chest, feeling something there. Alfred sighed. "Arthur was right. There was no point in doing this… I should've listened." He closed his eyes.
Eric stared at him for a moment, his dark and narrowed. "Arthur…" he muttered out darkly, eyes gazed over before shaking his head and he give out a small chuckled. He walked around Alfred and now stood in front of him, facing America. "I should've known. England always has been a bit mysterious and secretive… always doing things in the dark."
America smiled warmly. "But you can't fault him for that though," he said. "After all, he's only protecting those he loves…" he looked off to the side, his smile dropped into a frown. "Even if at times it's a bit overbearing..."
Eric hummed and nodded, eyes closed as the wind blew softly by. He then tuned towards Alfred and opened his eyes. Alfred's own blue eyes stared into Eric's mystic blue orbs. "Is this what you have chosen, Alfred F. Jones? Will you, or will you not kill America?" he asked.
"I will not," Alfred answered confidently, staring down at Eric.
Even though he looked confidant, Alfred was actually feeling very nervous inside. Something about this kid just didn't sit right with him, and it was making Alfred feel extremely uncomfortable in his presence.
Finally, after a moment of intense silence and narrowed eyes from Eric, the child smiled and said, "Good work, Alfred!" he patted Alfred on the shoulder, startling him.
"What?" Alfred was confused.
"You pass. But than again, I expected no less from someone like you really… someone of Arthur's own flesh and blood."
"What-? Ack!" Alfred winced in pain, a hand going to his heart. "What is…? Ack!" he fell to his knee. "What did you do to me?"
Eric smirked. "Nothing," he said. "I just gave you back what was rightfully yours. Yours and the others." His eyes trailed off to the sky.
"Wha-?"
Eric than moved his gaze to America. "Coming, America?"
"Yes," America answered, a small smile creeping up his lips as he glanced down at Alfred. "My job here is done anyways." He walked towards the white gate. "Good luck and goodbye, Alfred F. Jones. Thank you for serving as my host for so long. I now release you of your duty, until you come seeking my help again." He stood, back facing the white gate, where Eric sat on the top. "But for now, you are free from me, Alfred. Your life is yours. Do with it what you well. Call, if you need me. You know I'll always come for you." He bowed and turned into an eagle before flying off into the sky, heading back the way he'd came.
Eric looked up, his gold watch opened and in front of him. "Hmm, seems Arthur got free…" he whispered into the wind, than looked down at Alfred and smiled. "The sage escapes…" he sang. "The true meaning of the message… The horizon knows…" He motioned with his watched hand held up to the parting clouds, showing the place where the sky meets the land. "Goodbye for now, Alfred. Next time we meet, I hope you'll remember who I am."
The sun shone brightly over head and illuminated the sky. Alfred shielded his eyes away and called out. "W-wait! I still want to know who you are! And who the others I've met are!"
"Ahh, but Alfred," came Eric's voice from somewhere. "You already know them. You just need to remember."
Alfred tried to reach for the sun, but instead found himself blinded and soon floating in darkness. Than, Jack appeared.
"In the right hand, death," he said, holding out his right hand and a black book appeared in it. "In the left hand, life." Jack held out his left hand and a white book appeared. He smiled. "An untilting winter scale." Jack bowed; his hands held out like a scale still, and than faded back into the darkness, snow falling down as he went.
Alfred found himself opening his eyes to see Arthur standing in front of him, a silver box in his hands and a frown on his face as he glared down at the closed box.
"Arthur," Alfred whispered, staring up at him before looking around to see the others doing the same, all having a hand on one part of their body that ached with the burning pain of Freedom.
"Well than," said Eric, sitting in front of a long dinning table with a big smile on his face.
Other people sat off to the side and the table led all the way into the darkness. Some of the people could be identified as Jack, Oz, Even, Kenric, Lucas, Luna, and Ash.
"Shall we begin?"
Yeah, I know I jumped the gun. But there was just no other way I can think of to going about doing this!
If you hadn't noticed, all my OCs are related to each other in some way and that is kind of important.
Question Time!
1: Who is Kenric's baby brother?
2: What is Arthur's relationship with Jack?
3: I cut off some words from the song, but not as much as the last one. So, what do you think this line in the song means or are referring to?
The windmill of the sun
The cradle of the moon
A story of wandering
A broken doll
A man's corpse
A dark story of wasted time
Next Chapter: What The Hell Iggy!
The truth finally comes out! But with it comes more questions and searching for answers. Just what have you been hiding from us England, or maybe I should say Arthur?
Please Review!:)
