I am finally planning these things just before writing them! That should improve the course of events slightly.

Also, I've planned the next memories, the epilogue and almost all of the sequel! I might be looking too far ahead, but hey. This is successful and I don't want it to die just yet.

Keep an eye out for my New Year's present to you: the dream behind my name! Of course I'll improve it from my dream diary XD

Enjoy!

My eyes open, and I look at my surroundings. It appears that I just woke up, because I'm back in my room. But why would my head hurt if I only hit it against a rock in a dream?

Oh, right. I fell head-first off of my bed. That explains things.

I thrash around groggily to get out of the tangle of a mattress. It works, and I get to my feet, wincing as my head throbs. The time on my alarm clock doesn't read 5:12 for once, since I woke up of my own accord, but 7:29 instead. Maybe these numbers have some significance, but I'm too tired to really think about it right now.

I look over to the sleeping bag next to my bed. Empty. Come to think of it, the house is a bit too quiet as well. Did Romania and Prussia leave?

It would probably be a good idea to investigate, so I decide to leave my room. As soon as I open the door, I bump into Fialina.

"Fialina!" I exclaim. "Have you seen Romania or Prussia anywhere?" I ask, before adding "Or Emmakala, for that matter?"

"Well," she begins, looking down sorrowfully at the ground, "Emmakala is still nowhere to be seen. As for Romania, he woke up at the normal time your alarm goes off, even though I silenced it as soon as it began. He looked really," she moves her hands frustratedly while searching for the right word, "panicked. He asked me for some more soporific fairy dust, and I sprinkled some over him so that he would fall asleep again."

"So where is he?" I cut in, slightly panicky.

"I'm getting to that!" she replies, before continuing. "Prussia got a call from Romania's boss and ordered a taxi to take them both home. He tried to wake him up, and I couldn't stop him because he can't see me."

I begin to fear the worst. What if he'd been in the middle of saving Emmakala? Would she be trapped there forever?

"Luckily, though, he failed in waking him up." I sigh in relief. "He gave Romania a piggy-back out of the house and into the taxi; I haven't seen either since."

I nod and thank her for the information. "In which case, can I have some more of that soporific fairy dust? I might need to save Emmakala myself..."

"Oh, sorry Arthur, but I used the last of it with Romania's second dosage. I'm afraid I'll need to ask Gwimiri to send some more from Dricien's factory."

"How long would that take?" I ask, slightly impatiently. Patience may be a virtue, but when someone might suffer if you take your time, it really doesn't matter.

"If I alerted her on and went to collect the dust myself, I'd give it about twelve hours?"

I almost cry out in anguish; twelve hours is too long! Emmakala would be in severe pain by then, and maybe Ruhtra would have... no, I don't want to think about it!

"As many dosages as you can carry comfortably, please," I tell her anyway, and she nods, returning to her drawer-bedroom, presumably to send a message to Gwimiri.

I return to my room, and climb back into bed. Pulling the covers off of the floor and onto the bed, I snuggle down into the warmth and attempt to fall asleep.

But I can't, out of worry for Emmakala.

I groan at the irony of the situation. This is just frustrating, not being able to sleep because of worry for someone who I can only save by falling asleep! And the cycle continues.

Tossing and turning in bed to get into a comfortable position - left side, right side, staring at the ceiling, face-down on the pillow, foetal position... everything! Nothing works. I'm simply not tired.

I throw off the duvet in frustration and head over to the window instead. The spring-green sunlight, tinted in colour by the curtains, is almost comforting. I pull away the curtain and look out of the window at my own back garden, other back gardens in the same street, and the forest beyond the sprawling town.

A faint glimmer of light flutters toward said forest - Fialina. I smile, sending her my blessings on her journey. Then I climb onto the wide windowsill and sit with my back to one side of the window frame, my eyes never leaving her. She goes out of sight behind a fence, and I stare out of the window aimlessly instead.

My thought track returns to last night, and I try to force back the painful memories I relived. I fail miserably, and soon find myself blubbering slightly. The scenes keep coming to mind, of all the bloodshed and death which accomplished so little... so little.

I bite my lip, trying once more to think about something else. Ruhtra's time-travel story comes to mind again, and I think over the events of it, judging their likelihood.

"...we were woken up by one of your kind," I mutter, quoting Ruhtra directly. My eyes widen in realisation, and I repeat the phrase a few more times in shock. I voice the unspoken question.

"Who?"

It wouldn't be me, obviously. America might, because of his alien obsession and those... creatures look slightly alien, maybe? No, that's ridiculous. The French git wouldn't do anything, realistically, would he?

I run through some more possibilities in my mind, dismissing most of them as stupid.

"Switzerland would be protecting his sister from them, be they dangerous or harmless. Italy would be too busy making pasta. Romano and Spain would be too busy... uh, never mind."

I give up and resolve to ask Ruhtra if he's feeling cooperative. Aea would probably throw an onion at my head again.

That thought evokes a funny mental image: Aea standing in front of around two hundred cloaked figures with yellow eyes, holding up an onion the same colour as her eyes, yelling at the top of her voice "ALL NAMUHKIND SHALL BOW DOWN TO THE MIGHTY ONION!"

I chuckle slightly, before realising that that onion was actually pretty painful. I should take it seriously. Still, heh. I shall take the onion very seriously (sarcasm).

Wait a second... Aea. Which country is she supposed to be? I'd better make a mental note to ask Ruhtra that question as well, or perhaps Aea herself, whilst she isn't worshipping a bulbous layered vegetable.

I resume staring out of the window. Everyone seems so happy and the world feels so... alive. People greet each other politely and have short conversations in the street, creating a dynamic and friendly atmosphere.

Unlike during the Battle of the Somme, isn't it?

Dammit. Stupid thoughts.

I shift back to correct my posture, since staying perfectly still would've offered me no distractions. I flick the curtain gently to free myself from simultaneous pain and boredom. Repeating the action several times, I find a strange fascination in the curtain's flowing movements, how indifferent it is to the world.

A strange, very faint scraping noise breaks my overly-philosophical thoughts and I pause. I pull the curtain aside entirely and see a small piece of paper on the floor, clearly torn out of a notebook and hastily folded in half. I pick it up and see my name in Romanian - Anglia - scrawled on the front.

I unfold the paper curiously and begin to read the writing enclosed.