Free Talk: Thank you so very much for all of the generous reviews, favorites, and alerts. It means so much to me that I can't adequately put my gratitude into words. As often follows scenes of action, this chapter is more exposition and revelations. I really hope you like it. Please tell me what you think of the chapter. And again, thank you.

Outcast
By Angelsaurus

Chapter 9

Ancient Scandinavia's eyes, which I had only seen as daubs of blue paint on a giant canvas, flashed in my memory and I felt the cold shudder of identification as my brain matched them to the terrifying eyes of Su-san possessed.

"If Sweden is possessed by the spirit of Ancient Scandinavia then all of those mysterious deaths…" My voice lodged in my throat, refusing to form the end of the sentence, so China finished for me.

"Yes," he said solemnly. "They were murdered by Ancient Scandinavia using Sweden's body."

Visceral anguish scraped behind my ribs like long fingernails. Su-san's own hands had started the fire that killed his parents, had held Maren under the water until she stopped breathing and staged the last Finland's suicide. Ancient Scandinavia had to be evilly brilliant to pull off those crimes without getting Su-san caught and locked up. But why was he doing this?

"Why?" I asked out loud, my voice cracking at the edges. "Why would Ancient Scandinavia murder anyone who gets too close to Sweden?"

"I am afraid I do not know the answer to that question," China said, and there was a vague hint of failure in his voice, as if he couldn't forgive himself for not knowing everything. "Since I do not know how Sweden came to be possessed, or what his connection to Ancient Scandinavia is, there are few available clues as to motive. Now, we really must get going, Finland."

"But…" I craned my head over my shoulder to look again at Su-san's still body stretched out on the grass and then back to China with pleading eyes.

Needing no further explanation, he gave a tiny, compassionate nod. "Alright," he sighed. "You may stay with him until Russia arrives to move him."

I felt like one of the twenty tight knots inside my chest had untied as I rushed back to Su-san's side. When I dropped to my knees and picked up his hand I was startled by how hot he felt. My head spun towards China who was standing behind me. "Something's wrong!" I shouted. "He's burning with fever!"

He crouched down and put a hand on Su-san's forehead. "He is quite hot," he said, though he didn't sound as concerned as I thought he should have.

"Isn't that bad?" I asked.

"Not necessarily," said China. "His fever is not due to illness. It's a symptom of the struggle that is going on inside Sweden's body as he and Ancient Scandinavia battle for control."

"Battle?" The word came out on an inhale and sounded strangely hollow. My brain conjured up the image of Su-san and Denmark locked in combat on the night of the bonfire party, replacing the latter with that fearsome Viking from the painting in the Student Council room. "Su-san is very strong," I said. "He only lost control of his body those four times as far as I know. And he wasn't burning up all the time in between."

"This is only a hypothesis, of course," said China. "But I suspect that Ancient Scandinavia was dormant for most of young Sweden's life, only taking over when the murders occurred and going back into hibernation, so to speak, afterwards."

"I wonder why he's putting up a fight now," I worried out loud as I pressed the scorching hand to my cheek like a heat pack. "Why won't he just give control back to Su-san like he has in the past?"

China's face pursed for only a very brief moment of contemplation before he replied. "My best guess is that Ancient Scandinavia has found incentive to retain possession of the body." He then shot me the strangest look, as if he were silently communicating something that should have been obvious to me, but I was failing to get the message. "You said he referred to you as his wife, Astrid?" he asked leadingly.

"That's right," I answered. The last words that Ancient Scandinavia said replayed inside my head: "Now that I have you back, Astrid, I'll never ever…" And the message finally reached me. "You mean he wants to stay awake because he thinks I'm his wife?" I yelped. "Couldn't he tell that I'm a boy?"

"You do bear a certain resemblance to her," China said. "In the eyes." He said it as if he'd actually known this woman.

"How… how do you know?" I asked curiously.

"As Historian, it is part of my job," he answered smoothly. "Hmm, but Sweden must be pushing back with all his strength to generate this kind of fever. If I were to remove the spell tag the struggle inside him would be much more evident, with thrashing and seizures. He could seriously hurt himself."

My stomach contents churned queasily. The thought of Su-san getting hurt did not sit well. But neither did the thought of him stuck in a spell-induced coma while his soul fought for ownership of what was rightfully his. "Even if Sweden is able to overpower him, Ancient Scandinavia will just go back to being dormant again, won't he?" I asked.

"Yes, he will still reside in Sweden's body," China said. "Poised to take control if the release is triggered and kill again."

"Can't you perform a… a…" In my distress it was more difficult to summon the word from my vocabulary. "An exorcism? Or, if not you, England, you know… with his dark magic?"

China shook his head with closed eyes. "If a possessing spirit is very attached to its host body or has a vengeful streak, exorcism could kill the true soul."

The word "kill" stabbed like a dagger through the center of my chest. I gulped and it felt like I was swallowing a particularly jagged chunk of ice that cut up my throat before dropping into my belly with a cold plunk. "There has to be another way!" I choked. "There's has to be a way to get that monster out of him without hurting Su-san!" At that moment I abandoned any hope I'd had that I could keep my emotions calm in front of China and threw my arms over Su-san's chest and let my tears leak onto his shirt.

A gentle hand touched my shoulder and China's equally soothing voice accompanied it. "You love him." He said it without a trace of doubt or condescension.

"Yeah," I said softly. "I'd always been told that it takes so much longer in real life than it does in books and movies, but it didn't. It was so fast and unexpected. I was in love before I even realized I was falling."

"It happens more often than you'd think," China said. "Even that old idiom love at first sight has some truth to it."

I thought back to the day I arrived at St. Hetalia, to that moment in the cafeteria when Su-san—just Sweden to me then—lifted his head and I saw his blue-green eyes for the first time. Perhaps my feelings weren't such a recent development after all.

"You summoned me?" Russia's voice was deep and cold, like winter in Siberia; it made me shiver.

"Yes, I need you to transport Sweden here back to the school," said China. "Be very careful not to disturb the tag of his head."

"And be gentle," I added, pulling myself off of Su-san's body only because I knew it was necessary to move him. "Don't drop him or anything."

Russia looked at me with half a smirk and one raised eyebrow. "You have nothing to worry about. Your friend is in good hands." Then he stooped his massive frame and picked up Su-san's limp body with as much ease as me lifting little Flower-Egg.

"Bring him to my room," China said, springing nimbly to his feet. "Finland and I will meet you there." Then he grabbed my wrist and pulled me up once again, and before I could ask any questions we were flying down the stairs and back into the school. He led me though the hallways at a quick pace, not running, but walking briskly enough that I didn't have time to dwell on the shocked faces of students we passed on the journey. I was almost certain I saw a flash of cobalt blue, but it was behind us and gone before I could look to confirm.

The Student Council members' rooms were located in the east tower, the only students allowed such a privileged location, and though I'd never seen the inside of one of them, the popular myth was that the accommodations were semi-royal in their opulence. China pushed open the door to his first floor bedroom and my mouth fell open when I stepped inside. Like so many of the rumors that passed along the gossip train, this one had a nugget of truth at its core—the room was indeed bigger and fancier than the ordinary student dorms, with a fireplace and a canopied bed—but it was what China had added to the space that had me in awe.

Against one wall was an enormous bookcase packed just as tightly as the ones in the Student Council room, and displayed along the top were assorted artifacts and curios. One, a golden dragon with a long, undulating body and jeweled green eyes, was particularly impressive. On the other side of the room was a massive mahogany desk with stacks of more books, a large microscope, various clay jars labeled in Chinese, and an enviable collection of art supplies—ink stones, bamboo brushes, paints, pigments, and pencils. Some of the products of his creative endeavors were hanging on the walls around the desk.

"These are incredible. Did you paint them?" I asked.

"I did," he said. "Thank you."

Other highlights of the room included a gigantic, antique-looking globe of the Earth in an intricate stand that allowed it to be turned in any direction, several framed and apparently hand-drawn maps of China, a dozen shadowboxes filled with pinned specimens of butterflies and moths, and what looked like a perfect replica of one of the terracotta soldiers from that famous tomb. The guy had enough hobbies to occupy several lifetimes, and all of it must have been brought with him from his home in China. If I didn't have much bigger concerns I probably would have asked him how he managed it.

Less than a minute after we'd arrived, Russia showed up with Su-san.

"Set him down on the bed," said China, and Russia obeyed. "Thank you. You may go now, but do not share what has happened with anyone outside the Student Council."

Russia nodded curtly and said "Da," in his burly voice before disappearing.

China locked the door behind him and I gave my attention to Su-san.

"He's still so hot," I said as I stroked the back of my fingers down his cheek. "I guess that means they're still battling it out. If the fever lasts too long, won't it cause serious damage to his organs?" No answer came so I turned around. "Hey China?"

He was sitting down at his desk, head arched over a small set of brass scales. I moved closer, though it was hard to distance myself from Su-san, and saw that he was measuring out quantities of strange dried herbs and shriveled bits of organic materials from those clay jars. His concentration seemed so intense that I didn't want to disturb it by asking what he was making; something to help Su-san I assumed. When he'd measured out his ingredients, he dumped them into a granite mortar and began grinding rapidly with the matching pestle. Then, after rendering a fine grey-brown powder, China took the stopper out of a small, blue glass bottle and added a few drops to the mixture.

"This should help bring his body temperature down," he said, walking over to the bed. He started to undo the buttons of Su-san's shirt with one hand and I felt my cheeks flush.

"You… you have to undress him?" I asked nervously. I knew that stripping an unconscious person was perfectly ethical in a medical emergency, but I still had an instinctive desire to protect Su-san's modesty.

"Just his shirt," China answered, relieving some of my anxiety. "This salve needs to go on his chest, right over his heart. Would you like to do it, Finland?"

"Yes," I said. Of course I wanted to do anything that was in my power to help Su-san. I finished unbuttoning his shirt and peeled back the sweat-drenched sides. His bare chest was nothing I hadn't already seen in the bath, but I had only ever touched the scar and just one time. If he were awake I am sure my face would be as red as a tomato.

I took the mortar from China and scooped some of its contents out on my fingertips. The salve had a pungent earthy aroma that wasn't entirely disagreeable. When I spread it over Su-san's chest it grew cold to the touch and my respect for herbal medicine took a big leap forward. I liked being able to take care of him, even if my efforts wouldn't solve the underlying problem.

"He will be safe here," China reassured, and then went on in a more businesslike tone. "We really should get going now."

"Right," I sighed, pulling away from Su-san with aching hesitation, as if there was a cord strung between my heart and his that became tighter and more painful the farther I moved from him.

China must have read the distress in my expression because he came up behind me and stopped me from getting up with an arm on my back. "You know what, Finland, I think you've told me enough about what happened that I can report to the Founders' Guild on my own. You should stay here with Sweden while I speak to them."

"Really?" I asked, sniffing back tears I didn't even notice had started to form in the corners of my eyes. China nodded. "Thank you so much. But, uh, how exactly will you get in contact with the Founders' Guild? I mean, they must be at their separate homes getting ready for bed at this hour."

There it was again, that enigmatic sparkle in China's eyes that indicated that he knew a lot more than he chose to reveal to people. "They will be together," he said confidently. "And they will be awake. They reside within Saint Hetalia."

This was a prime example of information he had that I never would have guessed. "The Founders' Guild lives inside the school?"

"Not inside it," he said. "Under it. You are the only student beside myself who knows this. Now I really have to leave." China's attitude had certainly calmed down from the state it was in atop the cliff, but I could tell from his voice and his body language that he still recognized the urgency of the situation.

He stepped swiftly over to the terracotta soldier and pushed down on the right forearm, which stood stiffly out from its body to clutch an absent weapon. The arm bent like a lever and, with a dull groan, the stones that tiled the floor in front of the fireplace sank down.

I didn't even have time to form a wide-mouthed sound of wonderment before China disappeared into the hole, but it came out after he was gone. "Whoa. What is this place?" Of course, there was nobody around to answer that question. "I hope you're okay in there, Su-san," I sighed as I brushed his wet bangs up off his forehead, being very mindful of the spell tag. He felt a bit less hot than he had earlier, which was encouraging.

I tried to pass the time by massaging the remaining herbal salve onto Su-san's chest, since it appeared to be working. The expanding and contracting of his ribcage assured me that he was still alive. But despite this, my brain was a dense snarl of anxieties that could not be silenced or ignored.

If the fever was going down, did that mean that Su-san was winning or losing against Ancient Scandinavia? When the tag was removed, which one of them would be waking up? And what would the Founders' Guild have to say about the matter? Would they know how to separate Ancient Scandinavia's spirit from Su-san's body without hurting it?

Somehow I had to stay positive. If I let myself get disheartened I wouldn't be of much use. At least we knew what we were up against now. Wasn't the first rule of war to know thine enemy? There was only one outcome to this war that I could accept; Su-san had to be all right, had to have his life and his body back under his own control. Any alternative would be unbearable.

I settled into the space between his body and his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. Falling in love definitely didn't happen the way I thought it would. I'd always imagined I would meet a girl in high school or university in Finland who would make a good wife and we'd marry and live out the same life my parents had. Now all I wanted was to have Su-san, Berwald Oxenstierna, by my side forever.

The sound of his breathing, a soft and perfectly even cadence, lulled me into a false sense of peace and I caught myself almost slipping away once or twice. Each time I shook myself awake with a reminder that Su-san wasn't just taking a leisurely nap. But exhaustion was steadily increasing the weight of every part of my body, dulling my reflexes to sloth-like slowness, and before I knew it I'd fallen into fitful, dreamless slumber.

A nudge of my arm and a surprisingly crisp whisper were what roused me. "Finland?" China said. "Finland, are you all right?" I opened my eyes and the image of his face, with brow knit in concern, sharpened in front of them. "You were moaning in your sleep, having a nightmare it seemed."

"If it was a nightmare, I don't remember it." Sitting up woozily and rubbing my eyes, I found that every bit of me that had been in contact with Su-san as I slept was now soaked through with perspiration. My hand immediately reached for his. It was pleasantly cool and I sighed in relief. "How long was I out for?"

"It is almost sunrise," China said. "When I returned from my visit you were asleep and I thought it would be best not to disturb your rest. But when you started to make such troubled noises I decided to wake you. It is almost time to do the same for Sweden."

I looked down at his face, still paralyzed by China's spell tag, and swallowed nervously. "I just hope it's really Sweden who wakes up when you take that tag off."

There were things I wanted to ask China so badly, but now that he'd come back I found him strangely intimidating like I never had before. This guy knew the school's history like the back of his hand, whipped up fever-reducing medicines in a matter of seconds, and had a secret staircase in his bedroom that led to a mysterious underground cabal that nobody else even knew was there. When I stopped to think about it, that was pretty dang intimidating. Rather than look him in the eyes, I looked at his feet, and to my shock, saw that he was wearing fluffy white slippers with grinning Hello Kitty faces sprouting from the toe ends. Except Hello Kitty never grinned on any of the merchandise I'd ever seen.

"Uh, cute slippers," I said, redirecting my gaze to his face, which at least wouldn't make me laugh inappropriately.

"Thank you," he said, taking the compliment as completely serious.

"So what did the Founders' Guild have to say about Sweden's possession?" I asked anxiously.

He let out a sigh, closing his dark eyes for a meditative half-second and opening them again with a more sober glint in them. "They want to see him for themselves, to determine firsthand that it is really Ancient Scandinavia inside him."

"They're not going to do anything to hurt him, are they?" I asked.

China shook his head. "I would not allow it."

There remained a sense of unease in the pit of my stomach. "When he wakes up, we are going to have to tell Su-san what really happened to his family and friends. I can't speak for him, but if I found out a thing like that, I'd probably need some time before I was ready to talk to a council of strangers about it."

"Unfortunately, time is a resource Sweden might be running short on," China said, and I was taken aback by the tartness in his voice. "If Ancient Scandinavia takes permanent control of his body, Sweden's soul could disappear completely. Now, let us remove the tag and deal with things as they come."

I bobbed my head without saying a word; scared silent. My heart was bouncing up into my throat with each loud beat as I watched China's slender fingers slowly pluck the paper from Su-san's forehead. His eyelids twitched, scrunched tighter, and I held my breath until they opened up, blue-green and beautiful.

"Su-san!" I practically sang. "You're awake! You're you!"

"Who else would I be?" he mumbled groggily, but I was too overflowing with relief to respond.

My face buried itself in the crook between his neck and shoulder and my arms embraced him like they never had before. "Su-san! Su-san!"

"Wh't's going on?" he muttered, a bit more lucid. "Wh't happen'd 'nd where 'm I?"

"Welcome back to the world of the wakeful," China said, and I could hear the relief on his face without looking. "You are in my bedroom, recovering from quite an ordeal. I apologize for jumping right into an interrogation when you've just awoken, but what is the last thing you remember happening?"

I pulled myself off of Su-san and let him sit up. He touched one hand to his temple as if it would aid his retrieval of the memory. "F'nland, y' and me were up on th' cliff, weren't we?" His eyes connected with mine and his cheeks tinged pink; I took that to mean that he had remembered. "Y' told me… Y' told me th't y' loved me, F'nland."

"That's right." I could feel myself smiling like a lovesick fool despite the gravity of the current circumstances. "I wasn't lying." As I spoke, my face drew closer to his, dragged by an invisible tide. But a small, sharp gasp made me withdraw instantly.

Su-san's eyes had gone suddenly wide and his formerly blushing complexion had blanched white as a lily. "I black'd out!" he uttered, and for a moment he looked absolutely terror-stricken. Then he blinked a few times at me and visibly unwound a bit. "F'nland, yer still alive." His fingers reached out and touched my cheek to confirm my existence and I used my own hand to hold them there, pressed against my skin.

"I'm alive," I breathed.

"I don't 'nderst'nd. Why didn' th' curse kill ya?" There was marvel wrapped around his words and his eyes never left my face; it only made what I had to tell him next more wrenching.

"Su-san," I said slowly and sensitively. "The curse is… It's not what we thought it was. That is, when you blacked out…" My eyes were starting to prickle around the rims, but Su-san was still listening attentively and I had to be strong and straightforward for his sake. "When you lost consciousness, another entity awakened inside you and took control of your body. You were possessed."

His brow creased in puzzlement. "P'ssessed? Y' mean w'th a demon?"

I shook my head. "Not a demon. The spirit trapped inside you was once a living human being who passed away. He was one of the founders of this school. He's the one…" My voice cracked and tears dribbled down from my eyes. "He's been killing people who get too close to you and I don't know why." By now I sounded more frog than human and I turned my head to wipe it on the shoulder of my short-sleeved shirt before refocusing on Su-san.

He held his hands in front of him, glaring at them with the sort of disgust most often reserved for implements of torture. His chiseled lips were curled down in revulsion. "I'm a murd'rer… Kill'd 'em w'th m' own hands. I'm a monst'r."

"No! You are not!" The words fired from my mouth as adamant as steel and I lunged forward to grab the sides of his open shirt near the collar with my fists. "You are not a monster and you are not a murderer! Ancient Scandinavia is! He used your unknowing body to commit his crimes! You are innocent, Su-san!"

The look on his face was one I'd never seen on him before, never even imagined on him, which made it even more frightening than his signature frightening expression. His eyes were downcast, agonized, and his mouth quavered. When he spoke, his voice matched his face. "Th' last thing Mar'n must a seen was me hold'ng 'er under water w'th m' hands. M' hands're what kill'd 'er. An' Mama an' Papa. An' th' old F'nland."

Because the horrors he'd experienced in his short lifetime, Su-san's heart had developed a protective shell and it was easy to forget sometimes that he was really still a child. It was moments like right now, like the times he curled up to sleep on my chest, that reminded me he was just a sixteen-year old boy, perhaps more fragile than any other.

"They know better now," I insisted though my dripping tears. "Wherever they went in the afterlife, I am certain someone was there waiting to tell them first thing that Berwald wasn't in control when his body did those things." This was an assertion I had just made up on the spot, but as soon as I said it I really was certain. No afterlife would allow its residents to condemn an innocent person in their minds; especially one they had loved and trusted so much in life.

"But why'd 'e kill 'em?" Su-san asked. "An' why didn' 'e kill you, F'nland?"

"We don't know why he killed them," I sighed. Then I shrank down a bit awkwardly as the next explanation was rather humiliating. "He tried to kill me. Tried to toss me off of the cliff. But he couldn't go through with because, well, he, uh, he kind of sort of… thinks I'm his wife."

For several seconds, Su-san just stared at me, stunned maybe, or perhaps amused. Was it funny that a murderous spirit thought I looked like a woman?

"Ya'd be a good wife," he finally said and I scowled.

"Husband!" I squawked. "I'm a boy!"

But he just ignored my argument and wrapped me up in a protective embrace. "He can't have y,' F'nland," he uttered possessively into my hair.

"I'm not going to let him have me," I stated firmly. "And I'm not going to let him harm anyone else who's important to you, Su-san. No matter what it takes I am going to rid you of your possession."

He separated our bodies and held me out at arm's length by the shoulders, eyeing me warily. "How d' y' plan t' do that? Y' aren't going t' do anyth'ng dangerous, are ya?"

"Well, I don't have a plan yet," I admitted. "That's why we have to go speak to the Founders' Guild of Saint Hetalia. China is going to take us."

Now, after many long minutes spent discreetly on the sidelines, China reentered the conversation. "The Founders' Guild would like to meet with you as soon as possible. I have already informed them of everything we know about the possession, so they will not be surprised. However, it is imperative that we waste no time before embarking."

"Do you feel like you can walk alright?" I asked.

"I can walk," Su-san replied, and then he swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up on them, just a tad wobbly.

I got up and held him steady until he found his balance then turned to China with concern. "Are we dressed appropriately? Our clothes are all wrinkly and our hair is a mess. That won't offend the Founders' Guild, will it?"

"Not at all," he said. "They do not deal with students face-to-face so they have no set expectations. Though, Sweden, you might wish to button up your shirt."

Su-san did as advised and buttoned up while China—after switching to more appropriate footwear—walked to his soldier and pressed down the arm. Just as before, the tiles in front of the fireplace sank and he stepped down into the hole, gesturing for us to follow him. I stretched out my hand and Su-san took it, and together we descended into the darkness.

The hole in the floor was the top of a spiraling stone staircase, with the sunken stone tiles serving as the first several steps. As we plunged downward into the bowels of the school, the light from China's bedroom shrank overhead until it disappeared and, for a moment, we were thrown into blackness. My feet stopped and Su-san's did behind me. Then, from somewhere below us, came the crisp sound of a finger snap and all around us, tiny blue-flame lanterns lit up, illuminating the narrow shaft of the stairwell.

Deeper and deeper under the school we traveled; how many meters down was this place? It felt like at least half an hour passed before we reached the floor where China was waiting at the mouth of an arched stone tunnel. His face was composed and serious.

"The journey from here on is level," he said. "So this is a good time for me to prepare you young men for what you are about experience."

I squeezed Su-san's hand tighter. With all that had happened in the last two weeks, I felt I could handle just about anything, but I was curious to what about the Founders' Guild required advanced preparation and why speaking to them was considered an experience.

We started down the long tunnel, lit by more blue-flame lanterns, and China began speaking.

"Along with the Student Council, the Founders' Guild is one of the two sacred institutions of Saint Hetalia, but their role remains shrouded in mystery to most. You two will be the first students ever, besides the Student Council Historian, to meet with them. That being said, you are not to share what you see or hear with your classmates."

"Understood," I said. So the preparation was just the usual swearing to secrecy that I assumed was compulsory for meeting with mysterious shadowy associations. That eased my mind a bit.

The tunnel ended in an enormous set of double doors, made of bronze and illustrated with relief sculptures depicting scenes from various mythologies. Considering what little I knew about Saint Hetalia's Seven Founders, this seemed very in line with their tastes. Spanning across the two doors, a little more than halfway up, was the word HETALYA—again in that archaic spelling—with the center 'A' split evenly by the seam where the doors met.

But China allowed just a moment for admiring the craftsmanship of the doors before he pushed one side open and held it while Su-san and I stepped through. The sight that greeted us inside made the bathing facilities look mundane by comparison.

There was no other way to describe it but as an underground palace. We had entered an expansive atrium of white marble that sparkled in the ethereal purplish light supplied by some unseen source. It wasn't radiantly bright inside—that simply wasn't feasible at this depth—but every remarkable feature, from the elaborate floor mosaics to the tall colonnades on either side of us to the ceiling frescoes of sky and clouds, was clearly visible and hauntingly beautiful.

"F'ncy," Su-san said.

"You can say that again," I uttered in awe.

"F'ncy," he repeated, and I could barely keep myself from laughing.

"I'm afraid there's no time for dawdling," China said, gliding in front of us with long strides. "They already know of our arrival and are waiting for us."

Su-san and I exchanged silent looks; mine an 'I'm with you to the end' look and his a 'you'd better not be planning something risky' look. Then we followed after China to the back of the atrium and through another doorway.

After a very short length of hall, we arrived at a room that, while not at all cramped, was small enough to feel claustrophobic after the one we'd just left. It was a rectangular room with walls made from the same shimmering marble, though hanging tapestries covered much of them. Along the rear wall, much like the Student Council's arrangements in the cafeteria, was a long pedestal and on it were seven chairs—thrones was really a more accurate description of them, as they were all uniquely and ornately decorated—each with a single letter carved at the top of their high backs. They spelled out HETALYA, of course. But only five seats were occupied.

"Sweden, Finland," China announced. "The Founders' Guild of Saint Hetalia."

I staggered a few paces forward with my mouth hanging open like a dumbstruck idiot. What I was seeing wasn't possible; I recognized every face that was looking down at us because I'd seen them already in the painting that hung above the fireplace in the Student Council room.

"F'nland, what's th' matt'r?" Su-san mumbled in my ear. He'd never seen the painting so there was nothing too shocking about this for him.

"These people," I whispered squeakily. "The Founders' Guild, they're… that is, they look just like the original Founders' of Saint Hetalia. I…"

"This isn't the time for idle chatter, kids," a voice boomed, not angry but merely loud. It belonged to the man in the center 'A' throne, the Roman Empire from the painting. He had ruddy skin, like he'd spent hours out in the sun, a wild mane of chestnut hair, and a mischievous grin. And he was dressed, from head to toe, like a Roman General.

"I'm sorry," I said, timid in his presence. "It's just that you all look just like the painting of the school's Founders. Even your clothes."

The man made a stunned face and turned his eyes towards China. "Yao, are we really wearing the same getup from when we posed for that dumb painting?"

"Not exactly, Alessandro," China responded, as unruffled as ever. "But they do look rather similar."

It felt like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped over my head. "You mean you really are the same people from that painting?" I asked, my voice almost comically shrill with shock now. "The Founders' Guild of Saint Hetalia is actually the original Founders of the school from… from almost five-hundred years ago?"

"That's right," Roman Empire—who China had called Alessandro—said proudly.

"And you're on a real name basis with China?" I asked. "Because he's the Historian?"

"No," the lovely woman sitting under the other 'A' said darkly. She was Ancient Egypt. "We call Yao by his real name because he's one of us."

"One of you?" I merely mouthed the words as Su-san and I watched China mount the four stairs up onto the pedestal and take a seat on the throne marked with a 'Y.'

"Whether ancient or modern, there is only one China," he said from his lofty perch. "And that is I."

In an unbelievable way, it all made sense. China was the perfect Historian because he'd lived through the school's entire history. He called everybody 'young' because, compared to him, they were. And this is why he was the only one allowed to communicate with the Founders' Guild. Nobody else knew the truth, not even the other members of the Student Council.

Now all of the lettered thrones were filled except for one, the 'T' throne, and I knew whose seat that must be. My hand clamped down hard on Su-san's, protectively. I could feel six pairs of eyes looking down at us with unreadable intentions and I realized why this room had such a mood of paranoia: it was set up for an inquisition.

"So Yao," Ancient Egypt said. "Which one of them houses the deserter?"

"The tall one, Sweden," China said. Then he turned and looked at me with eyes like black glaciers. "But Finland is the only one who can draw Torvald out."

To be continued…