HETALIA IS A MANGA BY HIDEKAZ HIMARUYA

While some characters and situations will be fictional, the events narrated in this fanfiction are part of the real history of Spain. However, note that, as much research and impartiality I will try to put on this project, errors will surely appear here and there.

That day, everyone said it, the sun seemed to shine brighter, warmer—not really hot, just—perfectly warm.

And from one of those rays of pleasant sun, a miracle was born.

The light caressed the golden grass in between the two mountains, and there, in that spot, the soil started to crack, a silhouette slowly forming.

They arrived when it was too late to watch the phenomenon, but apparently just in time.

The man stopped the cart when his woman stood up, suddenly alarmed by something he didn't perceive.

What, he was about to ask, when she stopped him with a gesture of her hand.

They listened, and thanks to that silence he heard what had caught her attention.

A child? Crying? In the middle of nowhere?

Both of them got out of the cart and walked around, trying to find the source of that voice. It was not their mind playing tricks on them, they were really hearing a baby cry!

There! The man ran about five yards away and crouched down to grab something from the ground. Turning around to gaze at his woman with his eyes wide open, he approached. In his hands there was a very small child covered in dirt.

The lady gasped and the maternal instinct got over every fiber of her entire being. She quickly but gently grabbed the child and cradled him in her arms, whispering to comfort him, while her husband asked aloud, to the mountains, if there was someone around. Whoever had left that baby in the open had to be far by that time—and heartless too. Their own child had died and grief was unbearable. Who could leave a son, such a beautiful son at the mercy of the weather and the wolves, to starve?

He was so beautiful, even dirty as he was...When he opened his eyes and looked at them, too young to really see nothing but shadows, and they saw his eyes were green as emeralds...

The woman looked at her husband and that was enough. A smile formed in the man's beard. He too approached to see the boy. His rough and big hands caressed his head delicately, as if the baby was made of glass. Such precious thing...

On their way home, as the baby held onto his new mother and hungrily sucked that breast full of milk he was offered, they started thinking about possible ways to name him.

None of them realized that his stomach was completely flat, lacking the scar all humans beings share: the navel.

This is a little headcanon of mine, concerning the birth of nations. I think they are born from the elements, from nature, depending of the place, as newborns. The setting was inspired by one of the possible origins of the name, «spane», which meant in an old European language the flat space between mountains. Also, our country is said to be always sunny, so I picture sun having a lot to do with Spain's origins.

Furthermore, the title from this chapter is taken from a history book called like that which talks about 1808 being crucial to the development of the national feeling, based on a quote from the bible. And there is nothing wrong with the title. Just "ñ". Our particular letter from the alphabet.