Chapter Eleven: (Some) Secrets Revealed
The nations and humans sat in silence around the room, only the distant patter of passing feet disturbing the quiet. The sun had long since risen, filling the area with golden light, but Canada could not help but feel its brightness was unfitting.
Ruby was the first to speak. "So this… 'Salem' is after the… 'nations' of Remnant? 'Nations,' which are the human personifications of each Kingdom and represent them and their people?"
"Yes." Qrow confirmed.
"And the nations are the only ones that can reach and activate the Relics that are hidden in vaults in their Huntsman Academies?" Ren added.
"Yup." Qrow said, popping the 'p'. "The nations are the only ones who can activate the Relics initially, anyway. They each unlock a specific vault, and then unlock the Relic inside. Think of it as a two-step verification before us normal people can use the Relics."
"And that man— Tyrian— thinks Matthew is one of those nations?" Jaune asked, concerned.
Canada dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to look at the worried glances his friends sent him. Qrow had revealed much to the teens but his and the others' positions as personifications from another world was not one of them. Canada appreciated the Huntsman's discretion. That did not stop his stomach from twisting with guilt at the remaining secrets.
They don't need to know, a voice in his head said, sounding an awful lot like England.
"Matthew is a nation, just not the one Tyrian is looking for." Qrow clarified. "He is the representative of Mantle, but sadly Atlas is the one who can retrieve the Relic. Matthew is useless to Salem and her followers. Alfred— Vale— is the one they need."
"That's why Cinder wanted to kill him." Pyrrha murmured. "He had the rest of the power she needed to get inside the Vault in Beacon."
Jaune's hands clenched into fists and he turned his head to glare out the window, lips twisted into a scowl. Before Canada could question his reaction, England stood abruptly, physically shaking. At first Canada mistakenly thought he was afraid. He should have known better. The Brit's green eyes shone only with rage.
"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU EXPERIMENTED ON MY BROTHERS!" he roared.
Mindful of their location, Canada winced. "Arthur, please quiet down. Qrow had nothing to do with—"
"He did." England spat, glare never straying from the Huntsman. "He told us himself. They were going to force Alfred to accept the rest of Vale's Aura!"
Ruby's eye narrowed in displeasure, and Canada was disheartened to note her ire was directed at the Brit. He felt his own anger threaten to rise in response but smothered the instinct to defend his own family. They needed clear heads, not fury.
Qrow held his hands up in a placating motion. "We gave him a choice—"
"What 'choice' was there?" England snarled. "Accept the Aura or let it go to a madwoman? Oh, yes. What a bloody free 'choice' there was." He stormed over to Qrow, jabbing him in the chest with his forefinger. "Don't you dare sit there and pretend he could decide not to accept Vale's Aura! His 'choice' was taken from him the moment that bastard of a General put him in that machine!"
Even Ruby looked unsettled at the mention of the experimentation the twins went through. Canada hoped she never found out the full extent of what the scientists did to them. He also noted that she had stopped glaring at England for berating her uncle. He could not decide whether he was glad or not that she was seeing the world was not black and white and that people on the 'good guys' side were capable of terrible things. Canada supposed it was good she still trusted her uncle. The others, on the other hand…
Even the most oblivious soul could tell the nations and JNPR were… upset.
"Why didn't you tell us this from the beginning?" Jaune questioned with a slightly dissatisfied frown. "We would have been ready for those guys if we knew about the danger."
"He was using Matthew as bait." Japan said before Qrow could speak. Brown eyes narrowed to furious slits. From the normally stoic nation, that was the equivalent of someone howling for blood. "Or, at the very least, he manipulated us into heading to Mistral."
Canada thought back to his and Ruby's conversations before they left, recalling both the ones with Qrow and each other. The Huntsman had hinted that Cinder was not the greatest threat in Remnant, and that America might be going to Mistral…
Qrow shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't say that. I didn't count on the enemy mistaking one twin for the other."
"I'm glad." Canada said. He rephrased as everyone stared at him— some gazes startled, but many glinting with a fury he knew was not meant for him. "About their mistake, I mean. I'd rather have them wasting their time going after me than my brother. Especially since…" He trailed off.
"'Since'?" England prompted testily.
Canada locked eyes with Qrow, anger sparking back to life. He jerked his chin up, hoping his message was clear. You tell them or I will.
The Huntsman looked away first. "Shoving an Aura— especially a nation's Aura— into another body isn't exactly something that has been tried before. There might have been… consequences." He took out his flask and took a drink. "Unlike Mantle, Vale was strong, powerful, and— most importantly— not dying due to her kingdom's slow deterioration. As a result, Vale might have completely overwritten Alfred's memories, identity, and soul."
"You— You—!" Russia caught England before he could lunge for Qrow. The shorter nation thrashed in his hold, green eyes wild with anger. "Let me go! Let me go you bloody wanker! I'LL KILL HIM!"
"I do not think so." Russia said calmly. "I do not think Ruby would like to see her uncle murdered in front of her."
Canada glanced at the girl, noting her new spot standing just in front of Qrow and resisted the urge to tell her to get out of the way. Beating up Qrow would not bring America back, and the blame for what happened was not— solely— on the man's shoulders. Instead Canada calmly got up and stepped into England's path, planting his hands on his brother's shoulders. Enraged and teary green eyes snapped up to his face and Canada did his best to remain calm.
"Alfred losing himself is only a possibility. Even then, you know how strong he is." He soothed. "He wouldn't let Vale beat him."
Canada tried to believe his own words, because if he believed, England might too. The glare the nation sent him said England knew what he was trying to do but he stopped struggling to break free and throttle Qrow, merely yanking his arms free of Russia's grasp. To Canada's surprise, the Brit said nothing more. He just sat back in his previous seat and glowered icily at Qrow. The twin knew England too well to feel reassured. The former British Empire did not simply let things go.
"So what do we do now?" Jaune asked now that a bloodbath was no longer imminent.
"What we were doing before: trying to find Alfred and get to Mistral." Japan suggested calmly. "Only now we are more aware of the greater danger."
His tone was unperturbed and stoic but Canada had the feeling England was not the only one still upset. He honestly hoped this would not divide their group. Though their group was already divided at the moment, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Violet eyes roamed over them all, thinking of the four that were missing. A stone caught in his throat, choking him. Prussia would be fine. He was a nation. He wouldn't die from poison.
The door banged open.
Qrow and the teens jumped to their feet, weapons out. The nations did no such thing, instead eying the doorway critically. Prussia did not appear to notice the tension or scrutiny, smirking as he swaggered into the room.
"Hello, all you unawesome people! Did you miss me?" he asked.
England's scowl returned. "No."
France chuckled as he walked in after Prussia. "Your charm never ceases to amaze, Arthur."
"Are you okay?" Ruby asked, darting up to the red-eyed nation and touching his arm. "Should you be up? Does your wound hurt? I'll go get you some water!"
She sped off before they could try to stop her. Prussia stared after her, a slightly perplexed expression on his face, then shook his head and grinned.
"At least someone missed the presence of the awesome me." He boasted.
"More than one someone." Canada admitted. "I'm glad you're okay."
The haughty grin softened the slightest bit and he winked. "As if there was ever any doubt. It will take more than poison to take out my awesome self."
"And yet you run the risk of dying due to your own stupidity." Germany growled, grabbing his brother's arm. "Now sit down. You're not completely healed yet."
Jaune got up and Germany shoved his brother into the comfy chair the knight had previously occupied. Canada was not the only one to notice Prussia's slight wince as he settled back.
"Are you sure you should be here and not at the clinic?" Pyrrha questioned.
Prussia waved off her concerns. "I do not require a doctor anymore. Staying would simply delay us in finding Alfred. I will be fine." He leaned forward, smile gaining a slight hard edge. "So who was that scorpion man? What did I miss?"
"I will explain it to you." England said before Qrow could respond. "Just know that someone has been keeping secrets from us."
His green glare went from Qrow to Canada. The violet-eyed nation acknowledged he might deserve it but did not care much. He had reasons why he did not want to tell them about Mantle and Vale, and England's reactions were just proving his secrecy was a good idea. He honestly hoped that the nation did not try to curse Qrow with black magic. They did not need any bad luck.
Ruby returned with the water, which Prussia gratefully accepted. His skin was still a little pale but he appeared to be recovering quickly enough. That was good. They needed to keep moving and catch up to America and his captors. Preferably before their enemies realized their mistake.
Thinking about all the revelations about Queens and nations and Relics, Canada could only sigh.
Why did things have to become so complicated?
XXXXXXX
Many minutes later, France laid his head on his palm, tilting it as he studied England solemnly. "I see. So that is what they did…"
The nation appeared to be calm at first glance, but England could see the fury burning in his blue eyes, an anger that was in reflected in Germany, Prussia, and even Italy's faces as well— though the Italian looked slightly more horrified than enraged. For once, the Brit completely understood and agreed with them all. He had not sugarcoated anything Qrow had revealed to them, and the other nations were rightfully peeved. The thought of Ironwood and his scientists experimenting on America and Canada— his and France's brothers— made his blood boil and he had to resist the urge to leave the room and shoot Qrow in the face.
Logically, England knew the Huntsman had no part in the nations' capture and time as lab rats, but the Huntsman still wanted America to complete the process and become Vale. A process that might very well have killed his little brother. England's fist clenched around his magic staff. Italy squeaked and pressed himself against the wall.
Before England could comment, Germany put a hand on his arm. "Careful, Arthur. We do not want to destroy the inn."
England glanced at the staff and saw it was glowing a violent, deadly green. He loosened his grip and the green gleam of magic faded. "My apologies."
"It is fine." Italy was quick to assure him. "You have a lot on your mind."
"We all do." Prussia growled, grim and serious for once. "I cannot believe they lied to us. The General lied to our faces and claimed they did not hurt the twins!"
"We were foolish to believe him." France acknowledged, lips thinned. Blue eyes returned to England. "So what do we do now that we have… more of the information?"
England noted the use of 'more', not 'all'. They had already been tricked by the 'guardians' of Remnant once, and they would not trust their word so openly again. He should have known better than to trust them at all. They all should have, for they had known exactly what the people of Remnant were capable of before they even knew this cursed world existed.
England was ready to punch France in the face. Truthfully, he was always ready to punch the frog in the face, but the urge was worse than ever today. He had already had to deal with France's groping, idiotic self yesterday, and today was not any better. To say that the frog was pestering him would be an understatement, and England was about ready to ask Switzerland if he could borrow one of his guns to shoot the bloody bastard. The only thing that stopped him was that the Swiss would use the gun on him more likely than not, so he suffered in silence and tried to murder France with his glare alone.
It did not help that today's meeting was being delayed. Those that had shown up were forced to sit around and do nothing except argue and occasionally glance at the door, all because of the conspicuous absence of a certain hamburger-loving idiot. It was nearly half past ten. The meeting was supposed to start at nine. And yet there was no sign of America, or Canada for that matter. England was not the only one to notice the North American brothers' absence.
"Where are they, aru?" China growled, glaring at the doorway like it had personally offended him.
"Who?" Spain questioned.
"America and Canada! They are late, aru." China snapped.
"America and…who?" Spain muttered.
Germany ignored him and looked to England. "Could you call them?" His tone was sharp and with little patience, blatantly at his wit's end and only one wrong word away from erupting.
"I tried." England said, insulted that Germany thought he hadn't already attempted such a thing. "Both went straight to voicemail."
"Canada is probably still sleeping, but it is unlike America to be late." France mused.
"He's been late to many things but meetings are never one of them." Japan agreed.
"Ve~ Should we send someone to the hotel to get them?" Italy asked, raising his hand.
"Don't bother. They're probably already on their way here." Romano said dismissively.
Silence fell over the nations and England had to scoff. It was like they were not the personifications of their countries, but children dithering about, unable to do anything as they waited for someone to give them directions. He had half a mind to demand that Germany start the meeting, but when America showed up all he would do was derail it and complain about how they started without him, thus extending the time further.
Stupid bloody idiot, England thought angrily. If it turns out he's late because he picked up a hamburger I swear I will murder hi—
"What is that damn scratching noise?!" Romano exploded, slamming his hands on the table as his eye twitched.
Italy tipped his head. "Romano? What no—?"
"Shut up and you'll hear it." His brother snapped.
The nations went silent again, straining their senses. At first England heard nothing, but then a soft scraping sound reached his ears. Identifying the direction, Germany walked to the door and opened it, looking down. His eyes widened minutely.
"A bear?"
He leapt back as a ball of white raced into the room, heading right for France. To England's surprise, the frog did not cower and shriek, instead opening his arms in time for the bundle of white fluff to leap into them.
"Kumajirou?!" France whispered.
The white bear whined and pressed his head into the crook in France's neck. Now that he was not moving, England could easily see the dirt and scrapes on the animal, his fur fluffed in odd places like he had not bothered to try to groom himself. Memory clicked and the Brit stood up, reaching out and touching the bear behind his ears.
"Isn't this Canada's bear?" he questioned.
"Yes, he is." France said, adjusting the animal on his hip. "Why are you so dirty, petit ourson?"
"I can't find them." The bear mumbled. "I looked hard all night but I can't find them so I came here."
England and France exchanged a glance.
"Who can't you find?" the Brit asked, gently scratching the bear behind his ear.
Kumajirou did not nuzzle his hand like he was normally wont to do, keeping his head tucked in France's neck. "The one-who-feeds-me and his brother. They're gone."
A chill went through England. "W-What do you mean?"
The bear looked at him with sad, confused black eyes. "They're gone." Kumajirou repeated. "The bad men with guns took them away through a glowing hole in the air."
The room went completely silent as everyone processed what had been said.
Then it exploded into chaos.
"What are you saying?" Lithuania asked faintly.
"Someone took America-kun and Canada-san?" Japan whispered.
"The humans are finally turning against us!" Latvia wailed.
"No, no, that can't be it. It's a joke, right?" Belgium gave a strangled laugh. "America's pranking us or something, right?"
"I'd like to see them try to kill us!" Australia growled, unafraid.
Russia started chuckling.
More and more nations shouted questions and theories, but England cared for none of them. He could only stare blankly at Kumajirou as his heart sank and his mind went numb. If the bear spoke the truth then America and Canada had been captured by some nefarious group yesterday.
Something cold grasped England's heart and squeezed.
"QUIET!" Germany bellowed.
The nations went silent.
"Sit down." Germany ordered.
The nations sat.
Germany walked up to Kumajirou, leaning over so he was closer to eye-level with the bear. "Bear, can you give me a detailed explanation of what happened?"
Kumajirou looked at him, obviously miserable despite the expressionlessness of his face. "I'm hungry." He said in a small voice. "I didn't get to eat."
"I'll get you some food." Italy offered.
At Germany's nod he rushed out the door.
"No pasta!" Romano shouted after him.
France shifted his hold on the bear, rocking him slightly. "While we're waiting, could you tell me what happened, petit ourson?"
Almost like a tired child, Kumajirou hid his face in France's shoulder. "The one-who-feeds-me and his brother were going to get food. They were taking too long to decide and I was hungry and I smelled fish. I went to find the fish but with the fish there were bad men." He flinched. "They shot me with something that made me sleepy but I didn't fall asleep. I couldn't move, and the one-who-feeds-me came in. He saw them but they grabbed him and put their metal stick to his head."
England saw France's jaw clench. His own shock was quickly giving way to anger.
"The one-who-feeds-me's brother came in. They ordered him to put his forepaws up or they'd shoot. He did and tried to talk to them, but they were not interested in 'money' or 'stealing'. They wanted him and the one-who-feeds-me. They called his brother by name. America. Then they shot him and the one-who-feeds-me with the sleeping stuff and they fell asleep." His ears flattened. "It took lots of shots to make America sleep though."
England could not hide his snarl but he stayed quiet, waiting for the story to finish.
"The bad men picked them up and one shot the air." Kumajirou continued. "A red glowing scar appeared and they stepped into it. Then it disappeared and Canada and America were gone." He looked at the nations, and England swore the bear was about to cry. "They're gone."
He buried his head in France's shirt, trembling. The nation rubbed his back soothingly, meeting England's gaze. The Brit had to wonder if he had the same anguished expression.
"Who did it?" It was Japan who spoke, his eyes shadowed by his bangs and something dangerously close to anger on his face. He looked up and his brown gaze did indeed smolder, filled with a fury few had borne witness to before. When no one responded to him, his eyes hardened further. "Who took America-kun and Canada-san?"
"It wasn't any of us." Finland said quickly, sensing a fight brewing. "Our governments know better than to capture nations unless we're in conflict. It's a death sentence."
"Or a decl'ration of war." Sweden murmured.
"I'm sure none of the nations here are responsible." France interjected before the atmosphere could get tenser. "We need to investigate before pointing fingers."
It was rare to see the flamboyant nation so serious, though frankly England completely understood his shift in mood. Italy returned with fish, providing a welcome distraction, and Kumajirou happily dug into the meal. Though that might not be the truth. Upon closer inspection, England saw he was simply hurrying to eat, like he wanted to finish as quickly as possible.
America and Canada are missing.
England's anger returned in a rush, making his clenched fists shake.
"This meeting is over." Germany decided, perhaps sensing an incoming explosion. "All of you return to the hotel—"
"What? You can't just expect us to leave!" Australia protested, green eyes narrowed.
Germany maintained his unyielding glare. "You will remain informed. For now, we need to investigate and inform the appropriate parties once we know what happened."
He glared at the nations until they started moving out of their seats. A few lingered but Germany's menacing glower sent them scurrying for the door. Eventually only Germany, England, France, Russia, Japan, Italy, and Australia remained. The Aussie was immune to the German's warning look. He crossed his arms defiantly.
"I'm staying." Australia stated, daring them to argue.
Deciding it was not worth it to argue, France looked back to Kumarjirou. "Is there anything else you remember about the men? The others are gone. You do not need to hide anything."
So the frog did suspect one of the other nations was responsible, or at least one of their countries were. England had to scoff at himself. Of course it was someone from a country. It was not like there was another planet the attackers could have come from.
Kumajirou thought about it, squeezing his eyes shut in concentration. "The bad mens' fur looked the same."
"They… were wearing the same clothes?" France questioned as he tried to understand.
The bear nodded. "Yes. The fur was white and like what you wear when you fight, but different."
The nations looked at each other, struggling to decipher his description.
Australia perked up. "Oi, are you talking about military uniforms?"
Kumajirou's ear twitched uncertainly. "Maybe."
"Anything else?" England pressed. "Anything at all?"
White ears flattened. "They smelled like death."
Well, wasn't that a cheerful revelation.
Kumajirou's yawn broke the heavy atmosphere, his jaw going wide as he revealed tiny, sharp teeth.
France stroked the bear's head rhythmically. "Thank you, petit ourson. You can sleep now if you want."
"Okay." Kumajirou nuzzled against his neck and was asleep in an instant.
The nations sat in silence for a time, only for it to be broken by Germany.
"First thing we should do is check for security cameras and see if they caught anything." He said, slightly unfocused blue eyes suggesting he was already coming up with a plan. "Once we are absolutely certain America and Canada have been taken, we will inform their bosses."
"Crikey." Australia blurted, eyes round. "They're gonna be mad as a cut snake when they find out their nations' been snatched."
"As long as they don't start accusing others of the act, it should be bearable." France commented. "I think it would be wise to wait until we have some intel to approach them. We do not want to start World War III."
They shuddered at the thought.
England looked to Germany. "I will go and see if I can borrow the security footage."
He did not wait for the German's reply to leave, walking briskly out the door and shutting it harshly behind him. His strides were long and angry as he stormed out of the meeting building, his fury returning more with every step.
Bloody stupid twats had to get themselves kidnapped! This had better not be a joke. If it is, I swear to God I will curse that bloody git.
Deep down, he knew it was not a prank. America may be an obtuse idiot, but he would never do anything that could harm his brother or would leave his pet wandering the cold streets alone for hours. But if it was not a joke, then America and Canada truly were gone. They truly had been captured by a malevolent group.
It was like the plot of one of America's stupid action movies, and it might just be one of England's worst nightmares. In olden times, nations had to fear being seen as demons or witches and hunted. Nowadays, scientific curiosity was their most worrying foe.
The idiot will be fine. Canada too. They'll protect each other.
Footsteps sounded behind him and he looked to see Australia jogging up to him. The Aussie waved vaguely. "Germany said we should stay in pairs. We don't want anyone else getting grabbed."
England frowned at his former colony and gave a grunt of neither agreement nor disagreement.
Australia smiled. "Don't look so cranky, England. It'll be like the old days. Minus the snakes and spiders."
England twitched at the reminder of the wildlife Australia had so… excitably shown him during his colony days. "Fine. Now hurry up. We have places to be."
He stalked out of the building with the nation at his side.
England absently reached up and touched the green stone that hung around his neck as if to reassure himself it was still there. He always felt the weight of the necklace and stone that would get them home. It was like a constant reminder of their real mission: to retrieve America and Canada and return to Earth.
This last betrayal only solidified what England already knew to be true.
Remnant did not matter. Not its wars, its factions, its people, or their schemes. In fact, America being a target for sacrifice in their conflict only made England more determined to get him out. He refused to let any more nations of Earth suffer because of this world, and the whole bloody planet could rot for all he cared. With that in mind, England felt no guilt for his response.
"We find America. And as soon as we do, we're gone."
XXXXXXX
It was pain that dragged Alfred back to consciousness. It started as a small burn but soon turned into a roaring flame, ripping through his body and leaving him gasping for breath. A hand touched his forehead and he leaned gratefully into the cold touch, desperately wishing it were enough to quell the burning sensation in his abdomen. The hand slipped away and he grimaced, cracking his eyes open in hopes of finding the person. His blurry vision cleared and he saw red eyes.
It was the girl who betrayed him.
Alfred recoiled, breathing stuttering in panic, but a second glance revealed that his initial belief was false. The girl— woman had black hair, not blonde, and she was noticeably older than his attacker. That did not mean they were not related or in league with each other, however.
Alfred licked his chapped lips nervously. "Hello…?"
"I'm surprised you're still alive. Are you in pain?" the woman asked sharply.
Alfred jumped but readily responded. "A little."
He carefully sat up, uneasily aware of her red eyes following his every move, and glanced around. They were still out in the forest with no one else in sight. No people, no buildings, nothing. Only him and her and the weird mask she carried in one hand. Memory clicked and he gave another, small twitch.
Is she going to hurt me too?
Alfred shoved away such thoughts and glanced at his stomach, noticing the bandages wrapped around his wound. It still hurt the most, but not as badly as he thought a stomach wound should. Especially considering he probably had not been taken to a hospital by the bandit. But… his wounds had been taken care of. She had treated him instead of robbing him and leaving him to die. The realization brought no comfort to Alfred.
Don't trust her.
"Thank you for helping me, Ms." He said softly.
Red eyes narrowed the slightest bit. "You do not know who I am?"
Alfred cautiously shook his head. "No. I've been having… memory problems. Sorry."
It was probably a bad idea to reveal such information but it was better than pretending to have intel he did not. The woman had saved him. She was also a bandit. The last person he trusted betrayed him. He needed to be wary. He regretted his decision as her gaze grew thoughtful. The responding somersault his stomach performed had nothing to do with his injury.
"Do you know who you are?" she asked neutrally.
Alfred swallowed. "My… My name's Alfred."
Her expression did not change. "And your other name?"
Alfred twitched and cursed himself for his nervousness. Glimmers of old pride and bravery brought warmth to his chilled limbs and he straightened, meeting her blood-red eyes.
"I think I'm Vale."
There was a beat of silence after his declaration, broken only by the rustle of wind through the trees. Then she smiled, the slightest upturn twitch of her lips. "I know you are. That's why I've been following you."
Alfred struggled to keep his expression neutral at her admission. She'd been tracking him? For how long? Had she just stood by and watched as Roman, Mercury, and Neo assaulted him?
Her head tipped, blood-red eyes narrowing the slightest bit. "But you are also… more." She stood up, towering over him. "My name is Raven Branwen. I am the leader of a tribe of people who could benefit from having someone like you in our ranks. In return we could protect you from those that wish to use you for their own gains."
Branwen. He knew that name. Memory clicked and Alfred swallowed roughly. "Like your brother?"
Raven's lips twisted downward with displeasure. "What do you know about yourself?" she questioned.
Alfred shouldn't answer. She was a dangerous stranger, a bandit, and the family of one of the men who killed his brother. But everyone was a stranger to him and she did not appear to be happy to hear him mention her sibling.
"I'm Alfred F. Jones. I'm also Vale. I had a brother too, but he d-died." His voice cracked, then hardened. "I remember my past self being attacked by your people years ago."
Raven did not deny it. "So that was you. I suspected as much."
Alfred took a breath, wrestling with the anger expanding in his chest. "No."
The bandit frowned at him. "Excuse me?"
Alfred glared back at her. "That's my answer: No. I will not join you."
It was obvious from the way that Raven spoke what type of person she and the other bandits were. She had also been stalking him, likely aware of his companions' true nature and simply waiting for him to be betrayed. She talked so casually and callously about attacking Vale's previous self, as if ambushing an apparent innocent traveler was an everyday thing for her. Recalling what happened to the demolished town, Alfred had to withhold a snarl. Then again, Raven and her tribe did attack innocents every day. And he refused to even consider being a part of it.
"I may have amnesia but I still have my morals. I'd never join a band of murderers and thieves like—"
A sword was at his throat in an instant but Alfred did not care. He met blood-red eyes with his own glare steadily.
"You are foolish." Raven said. "I saved you. I offered you protection. And yet you insult me?"
"You deserve it." Alfred hissed vehemently. "I see through you. You want to use me for yourself, just like the rest of them."
Deep down in his heart somewhere, that thought hurt, but that grief was overshadowed by the fury humming through Alfred's veins. He considered fighting Raven and bringing her down but knew he did not stand a chance against her, injured as he was. He might not even stand a chance when he was fully healthy.
Raven's eyes hardened. "Very well. Since you have made your decision, my efforts to save you are now wasted."
Alfred tensed, waiting for the sword to slit his jugular, but the bandit did not move.
"I will give you information." Raven revealed. "Do your best to remember it."
The amnesiac was not fooled. "What's the price?"
"Your life." She stated.
Alfred went numb. His connection with the world seemed to strain, leaving him floating in a void of false serenity, barely connected to his body as blank shock took hold.
"I… see." He forced out.
"You will be reincarnated." Raven assured him stoically. "That is the point. The enemy knows your current identity."
A small, distant part of Alfred might be panicking. The rest of him was rather calm, or at least he was trapped in a false state of graceful dignity. "I don't understand?" he whispered.
"Then listen. And remember." Raven ordered. "The enemy of mankind, the Queen of Grimm is after the nations— your kind. The Queen— Salem— seeks to obtain the four Relics created by the Gods that give their wielders unimaginable power. Creation, Choice, Knowledge, and Destruction… with them, she can do whatever she sees fit with this world."
Alfred was hopelessly confused but numbly did his best to follow along, like he was trying to cram for an exam instead of facing his own demise at the hands of his 'teacher'. "What does this have to do with me?"
"Only the personifications of the Four Great Kingdoms can access and unlock the Relics." Raven told him. "That is why Salem needs you, Vale. And— as I previously said— she knows your identity."
Alfred swallowed. "So you want me to be reborn so she can't find me as easily."
"Yes." Raven told him simply. "If you had accepted my offer, I would protect you. However, I see that your… naivety makes that impossible."
"Being unwilling to hurt innocent people is not 'naïve'." Alfred said levelly.
"This has nothing to do with innocence." Raven said coldly. "The strong live. The weak die."
The words rankled at Alfred, infuriating him like fire in his veins. He wanted to shout at her that her beliefs were twisted and wrong, that the strong should protect the weak until they became strong themselves, that she and her precious tribe were nothing more than criminals and scum of Remnant. He kept his silence on the topic, however. He knew his words would not change her.
"Am I weak, then?" he rasped.
"Perhaps." Raven said calmly. "Understand that I am only doing this because I must keep my people safe. The enemy— Salem— cannot be allowed to use you for their goals." Her sword pressed gently against his throat. "Remember for your next life."
There was still no fear. Only a dull, distant acceptance.
"I will." He whispered.
He didn't cry. He didn't scream. He didn't struggle or try to fight. He wasn't even angry or upset. An unfitting end to someone like him, though he could not bring himself to care. Her brother had killed his. Now she was going to kill him. How… fitting.
There was a burst of pain as Raven slashed his throat, but it fled mercifully quickly, leaving only darkness. As his body slumped to the forest floor and everything faded away, Alfred had a single thought.
I promise to do better next time.
Then there was blackness—
…But then there wasn't.
What felt like seconds later, Alfred woke in the forest again.
He blinked slowly, recognizing the shapes of the trees above him, and his first thought was that it had all been a terrible dream. Then he felt something warm and stick on his skin, primarily his throat. Alfred looked down at his bloody shirt, slowly touching his neck where he had been cut. There was no wound. But there had been.
He rolled over and vomited into the dirt. Once his stomach was emptied he was left shuddering and retching, body finally giving in to the panic that had failed to grip him before his death. Except he had not died. He had not been reborn in a new body. He was still Alfred F. Jones. He was still alive. Raven had killed him. He knew she had. Yet here he was. She expected him to be reincarnated like his kind was supposed to be but instead he'd woken up here.
What am I?
Alfred did not have the answer, and he was uncertain anyone else did either. Even if they did, would they tell him the truth?
My 'friends' left me to die.
His eyes remained dry, but naturally it began to rain. The droplets trickled down his temples in a mockery of tears but he had none to shed. He only had an aching hole in his heart.
The first people I remember tried to kill me. The second person did kill me. And according to her, it's because I can unlock a Relic thing.
Am I really just some prize to be fought over?
Alfred refused to believe that. He was more than just Vale and a bargaining chip. He was a person. He was himself. He was A—
Pain lanced through his head and he clutched his hands to it, writhing in the mud. A memory forced its way to the front of his mind.
He stood in a field of grass that was almost taller than him. In his arms was a small rabbit, which he held gently to his chest with his small arms. He heard someone behind him and turned, smiling brightly.
"You've come! I'm so happy to see you!"
The blond-haired man with large eyebrows and green eyes balked, looking surprised. "W-What? You're not running away?"
He studied the man— who was so big compared to him!— a little confused. Why would he run away? Did the man think he was scary? He did not think the man was scary at all. He looked really kind and nice… and maybe a little lonely.
"No, it's fine." He told the man. "I've learned quite a lot about myself lately."
Indeed he had. He had learned he was not like the other children he saw in the plains and woods. He was a personification of this land. His name was Am—
"I-I see." The man stammered. "Well, I'm happy to see you too."
A small smile curled the corners of the man's lips. He decided he liked that smile and wanted to see the man happy more often. The smile became a full grin.
"Okay, then. That makes it easy. From now on, you're my little brother!" the man proclaimed.
He nodded, feeling as if his happiness would burst from his skin. "Then I'll call you big brother."
The man blushed, a shocked expression crossing his face. To his horror, the man started to tremble and cry. He did not mean to make him sad… but he was still smiling. Was he happy?
The man sniffled, wiping at his eyes. "'England' is fine. That's good enough."
"Okay." He said. "My name is America!"
Time passed.
He knew that England and another nation were fighting over him. It hurt him to know that. It scared him. He did not like their battles, with blood and death and fear. So when England finally asked him to decide for himself, he was grateful. But still scared. It only got worse when England made a terrifying face that would send and child— even a personification— running for the hills.
Despite himself, America began to cry. He distantly heard the other nation—what was his name?— scold England before coming to him with food. It looked good. He approached, only to spot England behind the other nation. He was slumped on the ground with his head on his knees. He was sad again. America's heart ached with empathy and he wandered over to England, pulling at his sleeve.
"Are you okay?"
The green-eyed nation looked up, startled and lonely and so very sad.
And America knew his choice.
He felt droplets on his cheeks. It might be from the rain. It might not be. He could not tell. He sat up, shivering and cold, but with a strength that was not there before. He opened his mismatched eyes and looked to the cloudy grey sky, blinking water out of his eyelashes.
"America." He breathed.
America. A name. His name. He was Alfred, he was Vale, but he was also America. Even though he still did not know what the last one meant. But someone else might.
I have someone out there, he thought giddily. I have another brother.
His memory suggested that he was just another prize back then— They fought over me— but England's reactions suggested something else. The other nation was genuinely lonely and happy to have a little brother.
How many changes ago was that? He thought. And which Kingdom is 'England'? That must be his human name, right? So who was that other nation…?
Alfred shook himself, discarding such questions for now. They did not matter. What mattered was getting out of here and heading to… to…
His thoughts drifted to Neo, Roman, Mercury, and Raven and a hand squeezed his heart.
I won't be like them, he vowed. I won't hurt people to help myself. I'll protect people. I'll be the hero. But first I need to get out of this rain.
Scanning the area, he spotted a drier place beneath some trees. Alfred tried to rise and go there only for his legs to give out, sending him back into the mud. His hand knocked into something hard and he dug Cobalt Striker out of the muck, feeling a sense of déjà vu. No memories were forthcoming so he focused on moving.
Unable to rise, Alfred dragged himself across the ground, digging his fingers into the lose stones and mud as he pulled himself away from the scene of his murder. Most of the blood on his skin and the ground were being washed away by the rain, leaving only the gore on his shirt. Alfred appreciated the downpour for that, but little else. Apparently he could summon the weather but he could not order it away. Or perhaps his mental state was to blame.
I won't let them break me. I'm not a victim. I'm not a prize, he reminded himself.
Alfred made it to the drier spot and leaned against the trunk, breathing heavily. His eyelids fluttered but he did not let them fall shut. He needed to get away. He needed to think. He needed to plan. But he was so tired…
Cold and alone, Alfred curled up at the base of the tree and fell into an uneasy sleep.
XXXXXXX
A/N: Is anyone else currently getting buried in snow? Ugh.
As I hinted back in Weight of the World, I came up with this plot and wrote it all long before Volume 5 came out. It's weird to see how close it is to some things… (specifically Raven being involved and the Nation(in canon, Maidens)-Relic connection). A key difference here is that the nations have to unlock the chamber and then unlock the Relic so it can be used. It's a two-step process.
Thanks to everyone who commented, favorited, followed, etc! I hope England's reaction was satisfying. He didn't physically kick ass like a lot of you wanted, but the conflict between Ozpin's group and the nations isn't over. England isn't about to let this go.
Please review!