14: To Hell With This
"Don't despair: despair suggests you are in total control and know what is coming. You don't - surrender to events with hope." - Alain de Botton (Swiss/British Writer and Philosopher 1969)
Another white dress wrapped around her and in another dream once more, but there was a new sense in this dream and a new kind of dread: temperature. Hungary's hands wrapped around her arms, her breath were puffs of white smoke coming out of chapped lips. Her eyes stung with the cold, and her soul shivered. She could hear her fragile heels clicking against the marble floors as she made her way through the familiar hallways of the grand building where the last world meeting was held.
"Gilbert?" She called, but no answer. Her words echoed through the empty halls. Tired of searching for the ghost, and unusually cold to the bone, she sat on the foot of the stairs. The structure stood as it was on the very day of the Great World Gathering, gleaming, well-lit. But why was she feeling so frigid? Perhaps it was the emptiness. Or fear.
What else was this ghostly Gilbert showing her?
"Gilbert," she murmured, "I'm tired of all this." She wanted to wake up. She wanted to return to the real world; to the hell of bloody men, to the injured Turk, to deal with the traitorous Bulgarian, and to the Romanian she'd detested for centuries. Gazing around, she no longer saw the point in these haunting dreams. They had changed over the past few days.
Closing her eyes, she hugged herself even tighter against a bitter cold – the building looked normal, even well-heated, and it was only her alone suffering a biting chill.
Suddenly, her nose perked. There was a familiar scent in the air that made her stomach growl. Bolting to her feet, she tensed, smelling the air like it was so new to her. What was that? Chicken? Roast beef? Goullash? Pastries? What was it, she wasn't sure, but for certain it was coming from the banquet room where the Gathering had arranged the aisle of buffet tables flocked with food. Odd. When she strode past the room earlier there was no cooking, and nothing set up but empty tables.
A cold finger poked her arm.
Her heart leaped, seeing the little Gilbert ghost looking up at her. His smile was not there, instead it was a scowl set on his pale face. His garments didn't have the same glow as she had seen before, they seemed dulled and faded. The hair on her neck rose on end, the moment she saw his lips were sewn like a rag doll, and his fingertips were dripping with blood like he had been finger painting with them. He was hovering like he was hung from an invisible noose, head tilted with strange wonderment in his hollow purple-red eyes.
Hungary did not realize she had already taken so many steps away from the ghostly child.
Mouth quivering, she turned and ran for the nearest door left ajar – the buffet room. She should've remained where she was to ask Gilbert questions, but her gut told her not to approach the strange ghost. This Gilbert did not seem like the ghost she had talked to in her previous dreams.
Hungary shut the door behind her. She was not going to let that strange ghost go after her in that eerie state. What's wrong with him? she thought furiously.
Then her mind averted to the buffet set with incredible delicacies overpowering her senses. It had silver platters of gourmet food fit for kings. Fruits, salads, and meats, and even gravies and deserts were arranged neatly with them. Her mouth salivated as she roamed the table, examining each and every piece of cooking, from the very moisture of the juices, to the decorative leaf. Forgetting about the ghostly child outside the door, she licked her lips and reached for the nearest plate in front of her – it had chicken, gravy, beef cutlet, potatoes, fried – plood!
Her fingers were stopped by an invisible material. Hungary furrowed her brows. Glass? What is this? She could still smell the food. Frustrated, she raised her arms and hit the glass-like thing again and again. Plood! Plood! Plood! It was barring her from the food, and it was torturing her to madness.
"GRAAGH! WHAT IS THIS?" she yelled angrily. In the corner of her eye, the buffet door slowly opened. She could feel her breathing speed up as the ghostly child floated agonizingly slowly to her as if taunting her to run away fast. Hungary's heart sped with her breathing, frost paralyzing her combining with her fear.
The ghost floated closer.
She remained where she was, her arms over the glass, eyes darting from the ghost to the encased food. Shaking all over, she subconsciously let out a scream, her eyes welling with tears, shutting closed and bringing her to darkness, panic, despair…
I don't want to deal with you anymore, Gilbert! I'm just hungry! I'm cold! I – I'm hungry! I'm –
She did not know if she had been screaming or not, but she felt the cold chill brush beside her, making her knees buckle, horrified of what ever he would do. All of a sudden, the cold temperature burned and rose to heat and metal. The glass casing she felt on her arms turned to rust and steel, cold and hard. Her dress turned to a tattered uniform, her eyes flung wide open.
"He found me, Liz..." were the parting words of the ghost.
"What?" Hungary blinked frantically, seeing the young face of Moldova shrunken in fear under her figure looming over him. She towered over the boy, her arms raised and fists clenched, her muscles tensed all over. The moving train swayed, making her stagger for footing but it appeared like she was about to smite the boy beneath her.
Moldova was cornered against the wagon wall like a little mouse. He held a familiar pistol to her heart in defense.
"Stay back! I'm – I'm warning you! Or I'll – I'll shoot!" the boy quivered, his eyes bore no intention of doing what he threatened, nonetheless he had a finger around the trigger.
"Did I just…?" Hungary stepped back, trying to grasp what happened. The train swayed again. "I must've sleep walked. I must've –"
"You're insane! Get back, crazy lady!" Moldova raised the gun higher with new defiance.
Retreating slowly, Hungary kept her eyes darting from Moldova and his pistol, wondering if the boy was clumsy, or if he had any experience with such a weapon. She wondered if it was even loaded.
"That's right, crazy lady," exclaimed the boy, watching her back away further. When she was far enough he smirked with satisfaction, a little pointy tooth displayed. He waved the pistol at her, like it was a toy fire truck. "Let's not get carried away with our nightmares next time. Or else I'm gonna point this thing at you again."
Hungary rolled her eyes. Just like his brother, she thought.
Moldova straightened up with a wider smile and merrily sat cross-legged near the wagon's entry. He started playing with the gun he held, like it was the best toy anyone had ever given him. There was a fierce curiosity in his eyes when he held the object.
He got over that crazy sleep-walk thing pretty fast, no question. Hungary supposed he was used to people going hysterical out of the blue. She shuddered. Of course he's used to people going insane! He's been with Bloody Bulgaria and his rogues all this time. Her gaze flickered from Moldova to the hooded man who wore the white mask.
"Sadık?"
Turkey had his back against the wall and his limbs sprawled out in front of him with no regard of their condition anymore. He was lying there, staring out into space – something he'd been doing a lot lately. He didn't even turn to Hungary when she called him again.
"Sadık!" Hungary cried. "Please tell me what's wrong! Is it your leg? Your burns?"
Turkey put on a faint smile. "Ya, I'm okay," he murmured. "My leg's okay. While yer asleep, guess who's been tryin' to stitch up me leg…"
Hungary turned her attention to Moldova. He was looking bored of his mind of the pistol, when he caught her gaze. "Mister Anan was in pain so I thought I'd help him out," he said. "It was nothing, really…"
Turkey chuckled. "He's a good kid," he muttered to Hungary as the boy went on.
"…Mister Zhivko trusts me to take care of you two and I can take care of myself if anything…"
Hungary whispered to the Turk, "He reminds me of Alex."
"…and then Mister Anan woke up, and tried his leg. He could walk but he'll have a funny limp though…"
"Sadık, where is Alex?"
Turkey didn't leave his tired gaze from Moldova when he shook his head, clueless of Romania's whereabouts. Moldova caught their subject without knowing. "…and geez! Ever since last night when that hat weirdo was here – "
"That 'hat weirdo'?" Hungary regarded the boy. He's your brother…
"Yeah, the hat weirdo," Moldova shrugged. "That guy who thinks I know him."
Hungary bit her lip. Turkey kept silent, watching them with a weak smile.
"He even dropped this thing." The boy fished out a mini round hat from his pocket. It was the little hat Romania had left behind, and it was surely Moldova's own dark blue hat, accessorized with the sunset gold-striped ribbon similar to his brother's.
Hungary stared. The boy was holding his own hat with no recollection of the Nation he carried and the brother who'd taken care of him. Hungary gasped at the thought of the boy, and wondered if he was still a Nation-being even with his identity forgotten…
"He was weird," Moldova laughed, examining the hat that held many secrets. "But this is really cute actually. A little bit childish... Ha, ha! I guess grown ups can wear silly things like this. You know, this was Mister Zhivko's. I wonder why he gave it to that guy..."
Hungary shook her head, confused. "…Mister Zhivko?"
"Yeah. The one in charge."
Did the Bulgarian informed the boy of his past or perhaps tried to recover the boy's memories in anyway? Hungary questioned, "Bulgar – Ugh, this Mister Zhivko…you think he owned that hat?"
The boy fiddled with the ribbon. "Well, yeah I mean…he said he found this near where he found me. He thought it was mine but I don't remember being a hat person. It looks pretty small for Mister Zhivko to wear on his big head."
Hungary hid a faint smile.
Moldova neatened the hat's wrinkles. "I told Mister Zhivko it could be anybody's," he shrugged. "Who knows?"
Hungary nodded sadly. She did not know how to convince the boy he owned the hat all his life. All she could come up with was a question that he had probably heard before. Her voice softened. "Have you recalled ever having a brother?" she asked.
Moldova's eyes narrowed, his lips tightened and his brows furrowed like she had asked him something he had had enough of answering. "No," he replied sharply. "You're not the first to ask me that."
If he was a dog his fur bristled. "Why does everyone think I have a brother?" he scoffed. "I don't think I've ever had a brother. If I did I don't remember him. If I did he disappointed me by not looking for me for months. If I did he must be dead by now along with the rest of my family. I don't even remember them."
Hungary opened her mouth in horror. "What makes you think– ?"
"Mister Zhivko told me that my country's long gone," Moldova snapped. "Submerged in water, you know?" He chuckled half-heartedly like it was an overused joke, and his smile grew even wider. "Mister Zhivko said my lost memories save me from heartache. Yeah, I cried like a baby for a week or two, but I got over it. I left the past forgotten to move on. I've kinda been on my own, and Mister Zhivko and the guys became my brothers…sort of. I don't like some of the guys though. They've changed quite a bit. Those rascals…But Mister Zhivko is still cool..."
Hungary's jaw refused to close as she continued to watch the boy absentmindedly place the hat, not in his pocket, but on his head, between the two small tied tufts of hair he wore like pigtails.
"I remember some things," he went on, "I remember a hand pull me out of the water and put me in a boat. And that's as much as I could recall..."
Hungary choked, and blinked several times to keep her eyes from blurring. "You've stopped caring about the past and what happened before that?"
"Um…I told you it bothered me for a bit," Moldova said slowly. "I still wish I didn't hit my head nor lose an eye, but…" He sighed. "Sometimes it can't be helped…
"Sometimes it can't be helped anymore," he finished silently. His young countenance turned to stone, unreadable and almost unrecognizable to Hungary. She did not remember Moldova being so mature with his words. In fact, she had barely conversed with the boy in the past to truly get to know him. Still, the boy's change of heart was painful.
The afternoon sun streaked through the wagon's opening, making Hungary squint when she regarded Moldova once more. The boy with his little hat on created a long moving shadow as the train curved. It must have been hours riding this train, and she supposed it was way past noon.
Suddenly a man leapt into their wagon.
The figure wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead, after what must've been a challenging transfer from the engine car to theirs. Hungary took a moment to recognize the man was Bulgaria. She jumped to her feet and approached him.
He was still trying to catch his breath when she spat, "How dare you!" The Hungarian curled up a fist at Bulgaria. Conscious that Moldova was there, she lowered her voice to avoid the boy's ear. "How dare you not tell us about him! About Moldova!"
Bulgaria did not even look up. Ignoring her, he settled for a corner far from Moldova and Turkey. He turned his back from them and propped his elbows on his knees, head low, face in shadow.
Hungary bit her lip, and joined him. They sat far enough and out of ear-shot. "I don't care if you're armed," she whispered harshly, "or if you're going to stab me at any moment, Bulgaria. But please, just answer me if you have any shred of decency left in you. Tell me what happened."
Bulgaria clawed his hair, hissing, "I said I'm – I'm sorry! I – I'm taking care of him – He's taken care of. I've said enough already…"
"Have you tried hard enough to tell the boy his real identity?"
"He's lost it."
"Don't say that! He hasn't! He's just forgotten!"
"He'd almost drowned, Hungary…I took care of him. Moldova's gone, but the boy lives…Isn't that enough?"
"There must be a way he can regain his memory."
"…"
Hungary narrowed her eyes. "How dare you? Not a single mention of his life to his own brother! You had long conversations with Romania and you hadn't said anything?"
"He was so convinced," Bulgaria said quietly, "He was so convinced…so convinced his little brother was dead…I didn't know when to tell him until now…"
"Until now?!" Hungary seethed. "When he's under threat of being killed by your stupid men?! When he's lost his patrol, and when he's half beaten up?! That's when you finally tell him?"
"And you care?"
She ignored that completely. "Telling us about Moldova at this point, was all part of some grand scheme to get your people to Romania's sanctuary isn't it? What is it that you're hoping to gain, Bulgaria? Control? Your people have become unstable!"
"…" The Bulgarian lowered his shoulders. The train hit a bump and he took the chance to steady himself on the wall. He seemed to have surrendered.
Hungary turned away from the temptation to slap the man. She saw Moldova was no longer where he sat earlier, and was suddenly sitting in front of Turkey. The Turk was wide awake and mumbling things to the boy. Moldova looked attentive to what the man was saying, and then they were suddenly laughing at something one had said. Between them was Turkey's tile game, Okey – he had played it with Hungary before. He had them on his person all along, and it was nice to see him awake and playing a game with the boy.
Hungary's heart ached at the normalcy; Moldova had sheathed his pistol around his belt along with the familiar dagger, and the Turk was smiling again. She wished she could join them, if Bulgaria wasn't being so stubborn and tight-lipped.
"I know he will never forgive me," Bulgaria finally spoke. "Never forgive me."
"The repetition's annoying," snapped Hungary, shifting her gaze back to Bulgaria.
Bulgaria's light chortle sent a shiver down her spine. "I know," he slurred, "I know that I've changed. You noticed I've changed…Ro noticed too." He turned his head to her. "You know…they acted on their own, my men…you can call them thugs, goons, ruffians, rogues…whatever. I told Ro about them…they did it on their own. I can only stop them so much…Oh, and Ro told me you found letters from his dead patrol."
Hungary was about to ask about that.
"My goons acted on their own accord. They did. They did. The letters were there. One was from Ro's patrol…the other –" he blinked, "I crafted…"
"You jerk – "
"Well, one of my goons wrote it. They knew a bit of Hungarian so I only had to permit them to craft that one letter. That. Letter. He's never told you about it?"
Hungary fumed. "What did it say?"
"A warning against you," he whispered coldly, his voice low and only for her to hear. "It was a warning against you…"
Hungary felt her heart beat faster. Bulgaria smirked showing the toothy grin again, and this time it said, 'Yes. You are becoming like me'. She scrambled backwards, away from him as if he was going to turn into the eerie Gilbert ghost any second.
Bulgaria's dark-rimmed eyes looked hollow when they locked to hers. "Tell me, Hungary. Have you been sleeping well lately?"
Hungary fell silent. Her throat turned dry. She could hear Turkey call for her. However, her only reply was a worried glance, and before she knew what she was doing, she was outside the wagon car, clinging for dear life against the loose railing. Hair whipping her face as the wind bellowed. She could hear water splashing against the train's wheels.
Keeping her grip tight, her eyes set on railing after railing, boots toed every groove and cranny to move forward. She could hardly breathe from the cling, but she kept going.
This was impulsive yet again, her mind rattling her with complaints of the rashness. Ignoring them, she pulled herself up the wagon's roof with every muscle. Hungary had wormed her way through a ditch of corpses in the very beginning, so she was sure able to climb up a moving train and crawl on the roof to get to the engine car.
Hungary kept her low stance along the wagon roof until she encountered her first gap. The Nation dared herself to step back a few strides and leap – she landed right. Next a few more cars to go. Was this how Bulgaria did it? I'm sure, Hungary noted. She felt some reassurance from the syringe secured in her pocket, and then she ran. She ran and leaped until she was breathless and until she was at the very front of the train.
Taking a moment to breathe heavily, Hungary surveyed the land from the moving height. The train was driving by a sunset. Paler hues shaded the black trees and the land. Faint colours reflected on the water bodies flooding the grey. There were ruined structures poking through the horizon, a sign they were just a distance from a city possibly deserted. A road sign told her everything she needed to know. Simeria. They were only a few more hours to Cluj. To Romania's people.
Hungary steadied herself. Didn't he know this train was full of people who would kill without much discretion? She believed he knows. But why was this train moving forward? What was Romania planning?
She looked over the roof and found her reflection staring back at her– one side of the railroad was brimming with water and the other had the grey, ash sweeping off the rocks as the train sped over them. Hungary covered her mouth from the ash intake. At least, her lungs had not yet complained.
The final challenge was to swing herself to the engine car's entry way. The entry's steps were roughly blood-smeared and she recklessly reached for a quick hold and swung into the engine wagon.
Her boots hit first, then her palms, one hand pricking something sharp. "Ouch!" She licked the blood off the new cut. The little wound stung and it made her scowl at the very source.
Romania was seated comfortably cross-legged on the floor by the controls. A pile of broken glass from what used to be a beer bottle, were gingerly lined in a circle formation in front of him. He was observing them like they were little puzzle pieces. The train hit a bump scattering their formation, and then he carefully put them back together again.
Hungary's scowl softened. "Are you alright?"
Romania did not look up at her. "Aren't we getting along swimmingly?" he said, still observing his circle of bottle shards.
"I was just wondering," she retorted. Looking for something useful to do, she strode down the length of the wagon from the driver's cabin to the tight engine hall where she was careful not to pester protruding levers and valves. She turned to face the Romanian who was still unfazed by her presence, then she said, "I thought I'd find you here crying over Moldova –"
"I already have," he snapped, friskily moving around the broken glass pieces as if they were little army figures attacking each other. "You missed out on the tearful occasion by, um, three months - you know, when the world ended? Yeah. Oh and there was that other occasion just moments ago before I started the train, Bulgaria was here for that of course. Tsk, tsk Magyar. You really miss out on these tearful things. I know how much you love seeing me bawl my eyes out."
Hungary narrowed her eyes. "Well, I'm sorry!" she yelled. He stopped moving the glass pieces around, and she sighed. "I mean, I'm sorry about your brother."
Romania gathered the glass shards with a gloved hand and slowly made them disappear with an effortless flick of a wrist – another showy magic trick he must have learned years ago. Hungary remembered he was really good with illusions and misdirection.
She stepped around him and settled on the opposite end of the blood-smeared room. Her back against the wall, she sat facing him not severely annoyed with the tight, humble space. "He wore his hat by the way," she told him.
But Romania's eyes were elsewhere, focusing on something far away, something distant.
"He thinks it belonged to Bulgaria." Hungary smiled weakly. "And…well…he also called you a 'hat weirdo'."
For a moment, the train's noise was the only sound between them. Finally, his familiar chuckle resonated.
"I am a hat weirdo," grinned the Romanian. He leaned against the wall of controls and propped up a knee for his elbow. He kept his eyes hollow and half-shut, avoiding Hungary's curious stare.
"Mo and I were side by side fighting against the Calamity," he began. "The day was going according to plan. I was prepared to handle the nasty crowds and I thought Moldova was too...
"It all happened in a day, the flashes. Everyone was in total fear. I told my brother to stay with me for just a few more days until the flashes would calm down. I'd trusted him to stay put, but I was stupid and I was an idiot. I should've known Moldova would wander off on his own. I don't know why I still let him – " Romania broke off and rubbed his temple. "Why do I trust him? Why? Why did I – "
He took in a deep sigh. "The last thing he told me was that he wasn't afraid of the dragons in the forest," he said, the small smile in his lips trembled, "from that silly lullaby…
"I searched for him desperately for a week. I've even sent out so many patrol men until I lost a lot of them to God knows what. When I traveled to my little brother's country…There were so many water-logged bodies.
"There was a dagger among those bodies and I took it. Then…I just...ran away…
"I ran away from it all and I thought Bulgaria would help me, of all others. I didn't know who else to turn to after I was convinced Moldova was dead. Moving on was one of the options so I" – he cleared his throat – "I moved on and you know the rest."
Hungary's face fell. "…Romania…I know how you feel –"
"Oh stop it, you don't have a family like I do," scoffed the Nation. Hungary felt hurt but he didn't care. "Mo was right beside me. I just wish I'd done more. I wish water doesn't blind our fantastic sixth sense." He chortled disdainfully. "What a stupid weakness for Nation-beings."
"We are human too!" She flashed him a sharp glare before softening again. "You wish you hadn't been separated and I understand that! Don't think for a second I don't! I have a family too, you ass– " she stopped herself from swearing at him. Even through a depressing pep talk they still manage to hate each other's guts. She would've laughed if the mood wasn't so burdening. "The Calamity tore me away from Austria and Prussia, and everyone else I cared about! At least Moldova and Bulgaria are alive for you! I doubt Austria is still alive!"
Romania looked up at her and was about to say something, but she cut him off.
"What? It's true! I'd hoped he was still alive and now I'm not so sure, even with this stupid Immunity needle we have. I was at Austria's house when it all happened. Then I left them all behind by my own choice! I left to save my people. I ran away only to end up in a sinkhole soon after.
"Nation-beings stubbornly follow their people to the very end, right? It's our first priority." She chortled. "Something we all have in common and it can't be helped."
Romania fingered his chin. "We stubbornly follow our people to the very end and it's something we can't help," he quoted her words absently with a smirk. With a shrug, he added, "That is very true for our kind. I don't think we can escape it. It's purely instinctive."
"There's another thing you should know," said Hungary, hugging her arms. Her smile faded. There was a creeping chill in the room that made her pause and conscious of other listening ears. "It's about what Bulgaria said about me 'turning' to some insane senseless man-eater if you like to put it," her mouth twitched, "I had another dream about it and…I think it could be possible."
She calculated the new unusual behaviors she's been developing; sleepwalking, cravings for meat –ridiculously retching out cabbages – loss of sleep from the darkening dreams, and obviously the desperate Hungarians losing their minds were affecting her. Even her Immunity had not made her cough out fluids lately, and she wondered if it was still working inside her.
Romania scooted further away from her with a knowing look. He beamed, "I'm not going to say hungry Hungary…"
She raised a brow reminded of that letter Bulgaria told her about. "And Bulgaria told me he sent you a warning. What was that about?"
Romania rolled his eyes. "Oh. So he brought that up."
"What do you mean he brought that up? What else was he supposed to bring up?" Hungary scrunched her eyebrows. "He's told you more than he's told me, and I'd like to know, please."
"You're being polite," Romania smirked.
"Like you said," she gave him a sarcastic grin, "You and I are getting along quite swimmingly."
"Well played," snickered the Romanian. "Then I guess it's about time I bring this up." He fished something folded and white from his pocket. He held it up for her to see clearly. It was a white kerchief, slightly spotted with blood, and it was trimmed and crafted to appear like a flower. Attached to the back of its bulb was a hairpin: Illes' final remnant of his daughter. Romania held it out for her to take.
Hungary's rueful eyes darted from the flower to him. "You think…I should have it?"
"He'd want you to have it," Romania insisted with a tilted smile. "Besides, I don't think I'm the type to have a flower on my head. I'm more of a 'hat weirdo'."
The Hungarian accepted the hairpiece. She reluctantly secured it on her hair. Thank you, she said silently. Once the flower was in place, instead of voicing her thanks she asked, "Was this what Bulgaria told you about that he held back from me?"
Romania shifted uncomfortably. "No. Um – I found that myself. Luckily it wasn't as bloodstained as – you know. Anyway – well, Bulgaria…he gave me something else that would most likely change our course." He stood up and scratched his head. "I'll tell you about that later because I think it also concerns Turkey. I think it'd be best I – we talk about it together. It's too risky for me to say anything right now – it's not that important, I think. Not now anyway."
Hungary looked at him suspiciously, but she rolled her eyes, got up and began stretching her limbs. "So…I suppose this information is purposely concealed for the time being to keep Turkey and me around?"
Romania nodded, his mouth thinned to a line.
"Sounds like blackmail."
"You can think so." Romania hurriedly turned away from her and frisked along the engine hall, checking an array of valves, hoping to dismiss the subject.
Hungary figured she'll pry him for that information later. "So…are you really taking us all to Cluj?"
"To hell with this," he said quickly, examining one of the valves and tapping it with a gloved finger. "To hell with this after all…"
Hungary gawked. "Are you serious? I'm sure you have plenty of options! You must have a plan!"
"I do." He strode over to the shelf of controls and pointed to a shorter lever by the side of the wall. "Mhmmhmm..."
For Hungary, she did not fully understand how to work trains, and all she saw were levers, long and short, attached to steel boxes of varying sizes. There were also switches and gauges she noticed, as well as circular valves with arrows to indicate pressures and fuel usage. Other than that, it was all Hungary could understand from what seemed like a boiler room with a plane's cockpit of control panels. Romania on the other hand, was pointing to valves and levers, pacing about and muttering a procedure only he could hear.
"Let me in on this plan," Hungary interceded. "I can help."
Romania faced her for a moment. "Technically, you are in on this, seeing that you are in this engine car with me – "
Hungary stifled a laugh. "Are you seriously joking right now?"
"Don't worry, Magyar, the plan's going to go swimmingly – like I said before." Peering out the entry way, Romania checked the view outside, and then rushed back with directions to hastily throw at her. "Take care of Turkey and everything else. I'll handle the train, pull a lever here and there, and attempt a hot experience, and by that I mean an explosive experience. Oh look! It's about time, and we're almost there."
"Wait," Hungary gasped, "we're almost to Cluj?"
"No." Romania pulled on a lever which appeared to be the throttle. Hungary could feel the train accelerating speed, its hinges shrieking and rattling violently. Romania smiled at her. "We're actually – "
Badump! Badummp!
Something heavy pounded overhead and swung its whole body through the open entry of the engine car. The figure landed in between them causing the rickety train to jolt. Hungary had to steady herself against the wall, meanwhile Romania managed to hold on to a lever.
"Master Zhivko ordered me," grumbled the newcomer, "to get in here and check on you two." He was not the tallest as far as Hungary remembered, and he was either stupid or bold enough to confront them unarmed. This man was short, stocky, heavy by the sound of his foot stepping, and he had a grouchy expression plastered on his face. She did not remember encountering him before.
On the other end of the room, Romania gleamed. "Do you happen to be the roughest, toughest, meanest of the bunch since you're the only one he's sent to check on us?"
The heavy man cracked his large knuckles. "Yeah?" he glowered. "I can crush your bones like a toothpick."
Romania looked unimpressed. "Right. But why my bones? How about hers?" He nodded to Hungary's direction. She gave him an annoyed look in return.
The heavy man gave her a sickening grin that made her bristle. "She'd be a lot tougher," said the man, "but I'll enjoy crushing her bones…" His eyes scanned her up and down, and it made her recoil and clench a fist ready to strike. Romania was right beside her then, pulling her back by the wrist, saying, "Give us a moment, Mister Heavy Man."
There wasn't enough room to have some privacy, but Romania had pulled her to the farthest end of the engine hall next to the boiling tanks – the whirring and humming could conceal enough of their conversation. He whispered, "Listen if you want to help me, could you take good care of him? Knock him out and don't make a mess."
"It will be my pleasure," Hungary snarled, glancing at the heavy figure trying to listen in on them. "What about you? What's your plan?"
Romania's burgundy eyes turned icy. "We've got enough fuel and guts in this train," he said with a sly smile, "and we're taking a detour." He let go of her and they returned to view.
The heavy man looked like he was prepared for an assault. "You two finished with your date plan?"
"Date plan?!" Hungary barked. She marched up to the heavy man and, with a moment of hesitation, her fist flew to his jaw, knocking him backwards – there was not enough room for him to hit the floor.
"I notice some hesitation with that punch," Romania said over his shoulder, his one hand clutching a lever.
"He's Hungarian," she admitted, keeping an eye on the heavy man fixing his jaw. She massaged her knuckles. He's Hungarian and a heavy weight, give me a break! she thought.
"Well dance with him or something!"
The moment Romania had said that the train sped forward, faster than its usual speed. Hungary had no time to ask what Romania just did, her heavy opponent was already charging ferociously at her. The man delivered his strike, but when the train shrieked to speed again he faltered, and she delivered a side swipe to his ribs.
"Alex?" Hungary called.
Romania was preoccupied with a handle and a switch. "Yup?" The train's wheels were screaming and he was completely ignoring how fast the locomotive was going.
"You know – oof!" Hungary fell as the heavy man knocked her legs. "It'll be a lot easier" – she kicked the man's nose – "to let me know when" – satisfied with a bone-cracking noise and his yelp, she leapt for another blow to his stomach but the train's new jolt sent them falling instead – "you speed the train!" She hurriedly dodged another attempted blow to her face.
"I'd just pulled the fuel-pump switch and the trip cable, and I'm glad we're not stopping yet!" Romania laughed, clapping his hands.
"What?" Hungary yelped, the heavy man writhing under her arm-breaking hold.
"This diesel engine's stubborn, I think I broke it!"
Hungary twisted the man's arm this time, delivering a bone-crunching noise that made him howl. "And that's a good thing?" she asked over the man's yelling.
The train neared a curving railway. Sparks of red and yellow were lighting like flint and match outside the engine car as the wheels struggled to remain on course.
"I'm pulling the overspeed trip in three!"
A body flailed by the entry, trying to barge in. "Alex! There's more of them!"
"Two!"
The heavy man cried out. "You think I'm stupid enough to come alone? Oi! Tell Master – " Hungary punched him out cold.
"ONE!"
The yowling train sped towards a sharp corner turn.
The brakes were pulled.
The world tilted.
Her head hit metal.
The train collided with water, its frame crushed against the very force.
Everything was happening too fast for Hungary to register. She felt adrenaline rush through her like the water surging into the engine room. She was suddenly swallowed. The water tasted like warm metal and mud mixed with a sharp chemical tang. She hoped it was not acid. There was stinging her eyes and skin, and she had to blink furiously to adjust her vision. There was a chill the deeper she sunk in the depths. Light danced over her ignited by the fires of the train.
Fire, water and metal, she thought.
A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. Maybe to an exit. There were red sparks lighting around the engine hall, and then the wheels, then the roof.
She had some knowledge of boiler explosions and she knew what would happen to a heated locomotive crashing against a chilling abyss.
Water filled her lungs but the other Nation managed to help her climb up the wagon's roof.
"Geez Magyar, I thought you were a good swimmer!" Romania sputtered, drenched from the plunge. A figure loomed up from behind him. It was one of the other goons that attended to the heavy man.
"Look out!" she choked, but Romania was knocked out cold on the head before he could do anything. His unconscious body slid off the roof and hit the river. The goon went after Hungary next, armed with a steel rod, a new substitute to their bone spears – he'd probably scavenged the rod from the train's wreckage.
Perfect, calculated the Hungarian Nation. I know how to work spears and rods.
The goon yelled and swung a blow only to be dodged. Hungary snuck a hold on the rod's other end and her knee met his ribs. Using the rod against him, she swung its metal end to his cheek. The man spat out blood before he was sent into the water. She hurriedly searched for Romania, her eyes skimming the murk. He was just clubbed in the back of the head, Istenem! And he just had to land in the water?! Of all the –
Metal bent and flamed a few paces from where she stood. The boiler was going to explode.
The train was half submerged and it was sinking slowly into the riverbed. All of its wagons were disappearing with only their rooftops peering over the surface like hollow logs and crocodiles. The hot engine was growing agitated, pressed by the chill. It was going to explode in fury within a matter of minutes, or seconds…
Hungary caught a glimpse of Romania's body floating close by. Fortunately there was only a steady current, and it was too light to sweep anyone astray. Without thinking, she tossed away the rod and dove into the river. When she resurfaced she had an arm around Romania's chest. He felt like a block of ice, but he was breathing – and coughing out water at her face unnecessarily.
"Please don't tell me you suffered concussion and memory loss," she spat, keeping them afloat. She didn't wait for an answer. Her eyes searched for land. To her surprise it was not very far. She began swimming towards the muddy bank, holding on to the Romanian.
She had to admit, he had orchestrated this explosion quite well. The railroad was divided into two directions, one over a river and the other was a sharp turn. He had stopped the train right in the middle of a sharp turn. This caused the train to tilt and crash into the river, then curl and crumple; the engine wagon ended up closer to the other side. The train's collision wrecked the bridging railroads, but the train's wagons still formed a bridge – only it was sinking. Soon they were going to burn and vanish when the boiler engulfs everything in flames.
But that was the least of her concerns. Hungary hauled the Romanian up the shore. He would want her to fetch Turkey, Moldova and Bulgaria in any way. "So I do have to take care of everything," she said, rolling up her sleeves.
She plunged into the water once more. This time she swam faster. She was careful not to collide with sharp wreckage and burning metal. Her eyes stung from whatever chemicals the water had but she persisted, ignoring the stings. She located the sunken wagon where she had left Turkey, Moldova and Bulgaria. It was already submerged with only the corners of the roof peeking over the surface.
When she resurfaced for air, in the corner of her eye a figure stirred. Romania was awake and bolting for the wagons. "Find them! Find them!" He cried, flailing his arms wildly.
He was alright.Hungary exhaled in relief. The Romanian leaped on the nearest sinking wagon roof, then dodged flaming debris. "Hungary, find them! Help me find them! Hurry!"
A tall figure crossed his path carrying a rod – the same one Hungary had tossed aside. The man was the tallest one of Bulgaria's goons and with a metal rod to replace a bone spear, he would be damaging. Hungary was about to swim over help Romania but he stopped her. "Just go find them! Forget about me!"
She gritted her teeth and nodded. Ignoring sore muscles from her earlier endeavours, she reentered the sunken wagon, running out of breath and aching. She quickly stole another gulp of air before diving down deeper.
She had always felt so calm immersed underwater, and it was always like flying in mid-air when floating. There was a lot to take in; water particles dancing in her vision, the light rays hitting just beneath the surface, and bubbles caressing the skin. Mesmerized by the deathly grip, Hungary almost forgot if she was drowning or dreaming. The moment her eyes caught sight of the sinking Okey tiles, her head snapped back to reality.
The wagon was empty.
She swam for the opening only to be greeted by the sight of flames erupting on the engine car as the boiler was devoured by water. Romania and the goon were no where to be seen. She panicked.
A gunshot was fired.
Hungary gasped. The tall thug appeared with the rod. He bounded away from where Romania was and jumped over her. Crossing the wagon roofs, he headed for the other side by the last wagon car.
The black smoke fogged up her view.
Another shot was fired. A couple more shadowy figures appeared and headed for the same shoreline, called up like dogs to a piece of meat.
"Turkey?" she cried out, shakily. Take care of Turkey and everything else, he said. "Turkey – ? TURKEY? SADIK? WHERE ARE YOU?" She didn't care if she was yelling out his Nation name. "TURKEY?"
"Hungary!" The voice was coming from the other side of the sinking car. She swam under again, and popped her head on the other side of the roof. Turkey was hanging on to a floating corner of another wagon. He was waving a hand to her. "It's Mo! He's got Moldova! Bulgaria's got Moldova!"
Another deafening explosion erupted from the engine car.
Hungary had an arm around Turkey by then and they were already halfway to shore by the blazing engine car. Hungary avoided the fires and the other side – the goons had flocked to that end with the last wagon.
Turkey managed to paddle up the shore on his own half way through when Hungary stopped and searched for Romania again, this time he was visible to her through the smoke. They were all coughing.
The Romanian was pacing on the roof of one of the sinking wagons; he was trying to look past the blackness of the flames. Then all of a sudden, he stopped. He did not appear to be bruised or bleeding from the encounter with the armed tall man. Nevertheless, he sickeningly coughed out smoke before shouting, "Moldova! Bulgaria!"
There was movement across the river.
Where the engine exploded, the water was boiling warmer. Hungary predicted there was going to be another explosion. Her skin was beginning to fry. She hurried back to their side of the river with little choice. Turkey was standing up but his knees were bending like they were about to break. He was squinting across the river also, searching.
"MOLDOVA! BULGARIA!" cried the Romanian again.
A man screamed on the other end. A few more gunshots fired. Six, Hungary counted. But there was still a man screaming in the distance. Who was getting shot?
Her legs numbed with exhaustion, Hungary could barely stand straight, but with every muscle and bone left in her body she clambered out of the river and fell to a crawl. Romania was running across the broken debris towards them in a state of dread.
Another explosion erupted from the engine. It was a lot larger and the Romanian would have burned his back had he not leapt into the water in time.
Their ears were ringing. There was the same scream of a man mixing with the sounds of everything else. There were no more gunshots.
Hungary quickly pulled Romania out. He was shaking under his warm coat; on his head a tuft of hair was slightly charred. She noticed a cut bleeding on his temple. He looked up at her for a moment with wide red eyes. Quickly shoving her away, he ran to the edge of the shore and stood there waiting…searching...
There was a silent chaos happening on the other side.
A sudden gust of wind cleared the smoke as if Nature wanted them all to see everything.
Bulgaria.
The Bulgarian Nation stood across the river with an arm around a familiar boy. Bulgaria had a pistol pointed to the skies in one hand, while his other hand was gently placed on Moldova's shoulder.
Hungary wondered if he had been raining bullets at the skies all along – her eyes caught no other bodies on the shore. She wondered if Bulgaria had rescued anymore of his crew. There were only four men circled around him, and one of them was the tall man with the rod – a dangerous survivor.
Across the distance Bulgaria looked like he was the smallest of his men, even with the empowering gun – the Draculae, Romania had called it. Hungary remembered there were two…
One of his men was squirming on the ground crying out in pain and holding his face. Hungary noted it wasn't just one man suffering from a critical burn. The rest of the survivors had a few bleeding cuts, but Bulgaria and Moldova looked unscarred. The men lost their spears and they were looking at their Bulgarian leader with severity and menace. The mistreatment was uncalled for.
Bulgaria aimed the pistol at Romania across the river. Beside him, Moldova held his little hat tightly, and his young eyes were large, confused and scared; by the looks of it he would permit Bulgaria to shoot anyone.
Hungary could only imagine what Romania was feeling right now.
"Somehow I had a feeling you were going to do something like this, Ro!" Bulgaria said loudly. Even through a crackling fire, a goon's cry, and the distance, they could hear him loud and clear. Words were the only thing that mattered now.
"Bul," Romania's voice cracked. "We're still friends! Just swim across! Please! Bring – bring the boy with you! Please! Or – I'll make a bridge! I'll go to you! Hold on!" Romania started pacing along the river's edge, his gaze never leaving the other side.
Bulgaria did not move, for what felt like an eternity. By his feet, the crying goon screamed louder in pain; his face was blistering, enflamed from the explosion.
Expressionless, Bulgaria suddenly shifted the pistol's aim from Romania to the man beneath him. The pistol fired, quieting the scene.
Blood splattered.
Moldova gasped.
His men shifted around in shock. Their comrade was murdered by their trusted leader before their very eyes and it was something that triggered their nerves.
"You shot him…" Hungary heard the tall man say.
Moldova looked up at Bulgaria who was looking around in mild panic, completely aware of the people closing in on him. There were three of them surrounding him and the boy.
"DON'T YOU DARE MOVE!" Bulgaria commanded the leering goons. His one arm was still around Moldova protectively. Even from afar Hungary could tell the boy was quivering in horror.
Romania's knees were shaking. "Bul…" he murmured.
Bulgaria gave him a glance as if he heard that quiet whisper above everything else.
One of the goons growled. "You said you weren't gonna shoot any of us."
"I said, DON'T MOVE!" snarled the Bulgarian, shifting Moldova behind him when he faced the goon with new ferocity, his pistol aimed. Behind him, one of the men stole a chance to sneak up on Moldova's blind spot. He grabbed the boy, and stole a second Draculae from Moldova's belt.
"Mister Zhivko!" the boy shrieked.
"MOLDOVA!" Romania cried out, bolting forward.
Bulgaria whirled around then aimed his pistol at the one who seized the boy.
Hungary ran up to restrain the Romanian from jumping into the water. It could swallow him up and fry him, and the burning engine nearby was a scorching tank. There was still a portion of the railroad clinging over the surface, but it was barely halfway across the river and it was like a tree branch waiting to break.
The man held the pistol to Moldova's head, snickering threateningly at Bulgaria. "You shoot, I shoot," threatened the man. "I couldn't care less 'bout this kid. You're all a buncha loonies, calling out country names. Zhivko, you promised us all to live, but yer' killing us one by one for yer friends over there, 'nd I don't like it."
Bulgaria moved toward him with a gun to the man's cranium. "Don't touch him," Bulgaria growled, his arm was shaking. He was disregarding the other thugs closing in on him from behind.
The man holding Moldova quivered. "Ey! I know what it's like to have a kid!" grieved the man. "You promised us all, Zhivko! You promised us! We want this safe zone together, but yer choosin' those guys now – ? "
"Don't worry!" Moldova wept. "Forget about me! This man's pistol is empty! I'd emptied the barrel earlier because I didn't want to shoot anybody! Mister Anan showed me how – "
The man raised the pistol over the boy's head to club him, hissing, "You little –"
"Whah!" Moldova fumbled for his knife.
Bulgaria sent a bullet to the man's head immediately, but the head turned away so fast he wasn't sure if the goon was hit square on the skull. The man's heavy arms still clutched on to Moldova's shoulders, and the moment he crashed into the water he dragged Moldova with him.
The two disappeared into the depths.
"Moldova!" Bulgaria faltered.
"NO!" Romania freed himself from Hungary's grasp. He ran across the burning water and stepped on to the broken railroad, only to stand paralyzed on the very end of it. It was weak and not enough to bridge the gap in between.
Red suddenly stained the water.
A tiny hat floated to the surface and it perched close by the Bulgarian Nation.
"Mo…" Bulgaria gulped.
The tall man was behind him.
He didn't notice.
It happened in a flash.
Hungary screamed, "BULGARIA!"
A metal rod tore through his torso. His face paled but his eyes never left Moldova's hat.
"Bul – " Romania sounded like air left his lungs and it was choking him. The railroad shook under his boots and he had to drop to his knees to stay on. From across the water he could only stare at the rod protruding through his old friend's heart.
Bulgaria had been distracted, and it was the only moment the tall man needed to slide the metal rod through the Nation's back.
Bulgaria's whole body stiffened. Blood poured from his mouth and the pistol shook in his hand. He raised the gun to the tall man and fired.
The gun clicked.
The sound of emptiness.
He had no more bullets left. The gun fell into the water, and Bulgaria was smiling contentedly. He had intended the gun to run out of bullets.
The tall man sneered. "Any last words, 'Master'?"
Bulgaria turned his head to where Romania, Hungary and Turkey stood. He was swaying, dizzied from the blood loss, but he made a gurgling noise that was supposed to be a chuckle.
Hungary's lips trembled; a blame was stabbing her inside. She had that rod earlier, and if she hadn't thrown it away…
"Nu…No, no, no…" Romania was weeping.
Hungary averted her eyes from him. She covered her mouth and tried to remain composed. Her eyes met Turkey's, or so she thought she met his eyes. Turkey's dark pupils were empty voids under the mask, and they were reaching out for Bulgaria.
The Bulgarian Nation lifted a hand to them. It was a reach for them or a wave, Hungary didn't know, she could barely see through the blur in her eyes. Finally there was the lasting cry that resounded from the other side.
"Funny how life plays, Ro!"
And with that, the tall man yanked the metal rod clean out of Bulgaria's chest before letting him fall. Bulgaria's body crashed into the water, face first into his own blood.
Hungary could not even read the Romanian on the edge of the broken railroad. His body was a cold statue.
There were only two ruffians left, the one with a bloody rod and the other unarmed but no less threatening. When they turned and disappeared elsewhere, they had not only abandoned souls in water and fire, but they had left behind three Nation-beings across the river in mourning.
Hungary watched the men vanish. The train was gone, buried in the deep. She could see the paleness of the wagon rooftops just coloring the surface. The fires and the smoke were slowly dying as the engine finally calmed down in the riverbed. The murky liquid looked angry and tainted with bodies and blood.
There was a sting in her eyes when she saw the little ribboned hat by the river bank, muddied from its ordeal. She swallowed hard and turned away, unable to retrieve it.
The Romanian started back to shore languidly, as if he was gradually thawing from a frozen state. He was murmuring something, almost in a trance. His head was bent low, and his hair was shielding his eyes in shadow. "Cu bine, pe veci, fratele meu drag…cu bine, pe veci, prientenul meu…"
Turkey remained where he stood, squinting at the distance. "I don't see Moldova…" he muttered with a tone so casual it surprised them. He sounded delusional again, like the first time they'd found him.
Romania would not even raise his head to acknowledge that. He was facing the forest beyond, his back to the death across the river.
"Mo…Moldova!" Turkey called, smiling faintly at whatever it was he was looking at. "Did ye know Bulgaria called him Stefan?" he said to no one in particular. "He answered to Stefan. Bulgaria didn't tell him a lot about his past. I had a long talk with the kid, y'know? I got to know him a little bit..." Turkey took off his mask and rubbed his eyes. "I even asked him if I can call him by his country's name. 'Said he didn't mind 'cause Bulgaria calls him that from time to time too…I think Mo's okay…yeah…"
It hurt Hungary to hear, and to think just a couple of hours ago the old Nation was playing a tile game with the boy. She glanced at Romania who remained as still as stone.
Still feeling that the metal rod was her own doing, Hungary distanced herself from the Romanian and approached the Turk. "Turkey…?"
"Stefan! Over here!" Turkey belted, waving both arms around. Hungary followed his gaze only to find nothing but the river and the little hat. "Mo! Over – "
"STOP IT!" Romania shouted, as loud as when he was crying out the lost names. "I lost him twice already! I don't need this again!" He turned away and marched into the forest leaving them behind.
Hungary pulled the Turk's sleeve. "Turkey," her voice was quivering, "that's enough. Let's go..."
"But…Moldova…" He had worn that same look for Cyprus' name. Hungary let go of his sleeve. She turned to where Romania disappeared, and with a long shaky breath, she looked for him. She found the Nation marching noisily forward, and it was the first time she noticed him walk a different stride – a stride of defeat.
Hungary caught up with him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Alex?"
He flinched away from her touch immediately. "NO!" he raged. "Stop right there! And don't – just don't." He pulled something out of his pocket. At first it was his hat, wrinkled and soaked, but he quickly shoved it back inside and pulled out something else.
A bottle cap.
"Here! Take it!" He carelessly threw it on the dust. "It's the bottle cap of some German beer bottle Bulgaria gave me! YEAH! THAT'S IT! That's what HE held back from you because he wanted ME to TELL YOU!" His tone sounded like shattering glass. "There was a message in that stupid beer bottle! I read the message, okay? It said Prussia's looking for you and Austria's with him! Your beloved Austrian is waiting for you!"
Hungary regarded him incredulously, and when she made a move towards him he grabbed her shoulders to stop her. "I said they are ALIVE okay?" he said painfully, his eyes were glazed and pleading, "You just have to believe me!"
Hungary looked down at the bottle cap on the ground.
"You know what?" Romania released his grip on her. "I tore apart the message because I really cared before. I'd hoped you and Turkey would help me, but – but now I just…I just don't give a fucking damn about anything…
"Now that you know your two husbands are alive you can leave me alone. Just – just go. I don't care! I shouldn't have gone looking for anyone! I should've just – I wish I'd – " He stopped himself. Hungary noticed a glinting tear roll down his cheek. Another one of many she had witness moments ago.
"If you weren't out here," she spoke softly, "those men would've taken over. They would'vekilled your patrol..."
Romania turned his back on her, but she caught a glimpse of his eyes filling with more tears. He was falling apart, and he was ready to leave them all behind.
"If you weren't out here searching," Hungary trembled, "Turkey would've been left for dead." And so would I, she admitted silently.
"Yeah? Well, now they know there's a way here," Romania retorted. "And all they need is a bridge or a way around.
"Just leave me alone." He tried clearing his throat. "I've answered all your questions and –" he did not even cover up the sob leaving his throat – "and I just want to go home now…" He took a couple of steps forward before his legs failed him. His knees hit the dust and his shoulders fell, completely defeated. His head went limp and one of his gloved hands pressed against his face.
Hungary did not move. Romania did not sound like he was crying anymore. Perhaps he was trying to hide it or maybe he was purely drained.
That was it.
She was free of him. Plans had failed. Their supplies were gone, their defenses were destroyed, and their transportation was lost.
Now she knew there were two other Nations she can turn to. Surely she had no more questions for Romania. He did answer everything. He told her everything. Everything from Prussia and Austria, to the caves, Hungarians, trains, and boats…everything.
He was drained. Defeated.
Hungary felt like she had won something…but there was nothing to celebrate at all. She did not feel victorious, only guilty, and depressed. Romania had gotten her this far and now she could easily walk away from him in a blink. She did hate him.
But…
There was something that made her remain where she was. She wondered if it was because of the Nation silently weeping in front of her…the childhood memory all over again.
"I had asked this young man a question once," she said vacantly. "I asked why the world was not flat." Romania did not look up. Hungary picked up the German bottle cap from the ground and a smile faintly painted her face. "He told me the world is not flat or else there will be an end to it. He said, the world is round and an endless spin that if you'd ever get lost along the way, you'd reappear on the other side.
"For example…two people were lost on the other side today. They were very dear to this man…and if the world was flat they'd have fallen off the edge." Hungary choked back a lump in her throat and tightly closed her fingers around the bottle cap. Romania lifted his head, his back was still to her, and yet she continued. "The journey ends and they will never find what they're looking for.
"Forever lost he'd said. But then he told me, the world was made round because this way, we keep on turning. Those lost in the horizon will reappear on the other side…This man thought he's lost them over the edge, when really…they just went off to a different direction. Eventually they will reappear again to see him. He on the other hand...he told me that no matter what direction he takes – "
"He will keep going," the Romanian finished for her. He was staring out into the forest of charred trees to a path ahead. There were mountains beyond those trees and there were caves within them. Hungary didn't realize they were already facing Cluj. Suddenly Romania was laughing. "Don't tell anyone about this, Magyar. The comfort was torturously cheesy coming from you."
"Obviously, you jerk," a gracious smirk played on her lips. "I figured you needed to be reminded that's all." With a satisfied nod, she pocketed the bottle cap and turned to the opposite direction to find Turkey – he was still lingering at the banks of the dreadful river.
She did not look back, but she wondered if Romania finally turned around for her, or maybe he moved on and truly left them. She even wondered if Romania expected her or Turkey to follow him like before. Then again, their anger hadn't truly dissipated between them. She was angry at why he did not tell her about Prussia and Austria sooner. She was angry at why he did not turn around when she was talking to him. She was angry that he did not specify where his damn boats were. She was angry at him for a lot of things. There was always something to be angry about with Romania, right? She exhaled. Now was not the time to go back to square one.
Romania had dismissed them after what happened with Bulgaria and Moldova, and they could choose what to do the rest of the way on their own. Trust no longer mattered, it seemed. Trust had led them this far and they had lost Bulgaria and Moldova with it.
Hungary could head for Austria. Finally. But did she really want to now after all that had happened? Surely. Though, she was not sure what to do or where to begin. Perhaps Turkey could help her. She found him with his hands on his hips, still looking out across the river.
Hungary creased her brows. "Turkey, that's enough!" She did not hide her irritation. "Stop staring back there!"
"Hmm…?" He turned to her with unusual energy. "Oh." His smile was there but it made Hungary even more irritated. How could he be smiling at a time like this?
"You're being delusional," she said blatantly. At least he was standing on his own two feet. She thought he had broken his leg again but it seemed like Moldova had done something to fix him. "Turkey,I'm planning to leave," she started, her heart set on Austria. The needle and the bottle cap were prompting her, and so was the flower on her head reminding her.
"Hungary before you say anythin' anymore…"
"Turkey…"
The older Nation pointed across the river again. "Tell me ye see no little hat."
Hungary followed his gaze. There was no hat. Moldova's hat had probably drifted away in a current. "There is no little hat," she pointed out quietly.
The Turk nodded, and then he traced an invisible horizon line in the air. His finger followed the river bank in the distance. "Now, tell me I'm not the only one who can see the footprints 'round the bend."
Hungary gaped at what he proclaimed, but when her sight followed where he was looking at, the doubtful hard line of her mouth loosened until her jaw dropped.
Across the river, there was the grey soil of the banks stained with blood and water, imprinted by heavy boot prints from the earlier commotion of men. But from the very spot of where the small hat had been, from the distance Hungary could scarcely make out the small footprints that looked like they stepped right out of the water. They were faintly heading east, and sure enough they were made by a boy's little muddied shoes.
Writer's Marble:
"...she made her way through the familiar hallways of the grand building where the last world meeting was held." ( Reference to Retrace: Pavements. )
"The last thing he told me was that he wasn't afraid of the dragons in the forest." ( Ro had said that line to Nadia in Chapter 1. "Nu te teme de zmei…" Which means, 'Don't be afraid of dragons in the forest'. Forests are pretty symbolic in this fic I realize.)
"Funny how life plays, Ro!" (Bulgaria had said the same line when they first met in Chapter 7)
"Cu bine, pe veci, fratele meu drag…cu bine, pe veci, prientenul meu…" (Romanian for: "Farewell forever my dear brother...farewell forever my friend...") Thanks for the translation Darky! ;) (DarkShadowRaven)
"I asked why the world was not flat." (Romania wanted Hungary to ask him why the world is not flat in Chapter 7 )
***There are too many parallels, and I don't want to list them.
***This chapter was the longest chapter ever. It's over nine-thousand!