The prince found Chinese food quite...exotic, to say the least, but it was still food. In moments like those, anything was welcome. He bought a couple of those stuffed buns for England, in case he wanted to eat something. He was still in a very delicate condition and he could use a break. That is, if he accepted to have a break. He had locked himself up in the hotel room with his books, away from him and...

He stopped, spotting the strange Indian nation sitting on a bench with his eyes closed and his hands on his lap, as if he was meditating. After a moment of hesitation, the prince approached.

"Mister..."

"China has fallen."

"Has he? Oh...Uh...When? Dear God, I've heard...nothing on the news..."

"I don't watch television or social media. The spirits tell me everything I need to know."

"The spirits..."

"Yes. No matter what happens, they have always been watching me and I do what I can to please them. In exchange, they give me knowledge."

"Ah..."

Algonquin opened an eye.

"You think I'm mad. It's okay. They manifest to those who open their hearts to them. Some call them God, others, Allah, Yahweh, angels, saints...So don't be surprised. I am sure you have invoked them at some point. Nations believe in higher entities too. Like our friend England."

"Well, yes, Mr. England has lots of books about monsters and fairies and...; but I'm not sure if his interest is more of an anthropologist one...Ahem...I wanted to ask you, mister...Uh..."

"I have many names, but you can call me Algonquin. It is one of the most frequently used."

"Mister Algonquin...What did you mean when you said to Mr. England that...?"

"What? That he is seeing this issue the wrong way? He is so concerned about hurting your nation, so clouded by the idea of never seeing him again, that he can't just see that the solution is quite simple."

"What? What is it?"

"Love."

"Love?"

Algonquin smiled at his confusion while standing up.

"You seem like the type of person who thinks we are some kind of deity, and you humans must serve and worship us; when the reality is that...we are the ones who owe our lives to you, depend on you, feed from your work, hopes and feelings. You are gods to us. You humans created us in your own image, gave us your character and a mission. You create us, make us big and destroy us at your whim. Little Sealand will be alright, as long as you keep believing in him. As for the devil who stole him from you...Terror might yield but very rarely convinces. I see this woman. She needs others to keep living. She cannot survive on her own because man always ends up expelling hate from his body like the disease it is. She used your nation like a parasite. She uses terror because it is everything she has."

"We have to tell Mr. England about it! Maybe he knows what to do!"

"Oh, he will know, when the proper time comes. But first, he has to let go."

Algonquin raised his eyes to the sky.

"Oh, I saw it in his eyes...He has to let go of such heavy burden..."

With those words in his mind, the prince went back to the hotel and knocked at the door.

"What?" England asked from inside.

The prince got in without waiting for permission. There was him, reviewing the books again, looking for something, anything, in pages he already knew by heart.

"I think you should give Mr. Algonquin a chance..."

"Don't be fooled by his aura of serenity." England said, not taking his eyes off the book. "His heart is rotten with resentment."

"Quite like yours."

That got to make England turn his head to the prince, his eyebrows raised.

"...Am I right?" The man asked.

"...I don't know what he told you, but I wouldn't trust him much if I were you. Indians tend to play the role of victims, but can be as barbaric as anyone else." England went back to his book, shaking surprise off.

"I would like to know why Sealand fell into that witch's hands."

"You know why. The promise of being more, having more."

"All that for you. You abandoned him. Your affection turned into despise. I'm not blind or deaf. I saw him waiting for you, talking about you."

In 1978 Sealand suffered his first unpleasant experience, when his 'Prime Minister' kidnapped the son of the prince after a dispute with him for not letting him turn Sealand into a casino and hotel. Mercenaries from Germany and Netherlands held Sealand and the heir hostage until they could free themselves on their own, using their captor's own weapons. But the mind of the young nation was not scarred by this event; on the contrary, it felt like living one of those action movies he saw on television in real life.

"England!"

As always, England's coming excited Sealand to the point just the announcement of his coming was enough to keep him in stitches all day long. As soon as his brother set foot on the platform he ran into his arms.

"Hey, chum! I hope everything's alright now around here." England smiled.

"Oh, yes! Simply swell! Germany recognized me and all!"

"Heh, well, he just wanted to make sure your prince wouldn't kill his citizen."

Sealand was exactly eleven years old and he wouldn't grow up anymore. Not if he kept on being a micronation, ignored by most people on the planet. Maybe if he was disciplined and worked hard...

"I've got everything ready. Let's go! Today's a good day for fishing, I can feel it in my bones." Sealand hopped around like a bunny, pulled England's arm.

"I trust your instinct, sea boy."

Heh. Probably not. Sealand reminded England of Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up, rejected all responsibilities, stayed in his eternal, carefree childhood till the end of time. Oh, did he love it was so. He had thought the world wars, being in touch with the cruelty of the world, the black hearts of men and nations had destroyed all nice thought in his spirit...until Sealand came along. Then, something as trivial as fishing became something magical, funny.

England breathed deep.

"If you are not going to help me, Mr. Bates, do not disturb me..."

"No." The man placed his hands on the desk and looked at him to the eyes. "I have been quiet for too long. Now you're going to tell me why I've lost my nation and why so many people and nations have died. It's because of Mr. America, is it?"

"Look, a mermaid!"

"Where?"

"There! Don't you see her?"

"I don't see a thing. You're pulling my leg!"

"I'm not! Look closer!"

"Wait...Yes! I can see the tail!"

"Mr. Bates, please leave."

"I saw that video, what he said when he captured America. Deep down he knew..."

"Alright, that's enough. Now I'm telling you: go away."

"...that you only had love for one and it was America, and no one else. Sealand could never have the chance of having you because you were only his..."

"I LOVED SEALAND! I LOVED HIM SINCE THE VERY MOMENT HE WAS BORN!" England roared, standing up so suddenly he knocked the chair down.

The moments he spent with his little brother were the happiest in a long time.

"Look at the fish I caught!"

"AND THAT SCARED ME SO MUCH! BECAUSE IT WAS LIKE GOING BACK TO THE OLD DAYS!"

And the sunny, happy days suddenly came to an end, clouded by a big shadow. Because in a different place, in a different time, there was a child who looked so much like Sealand it was unavoidable to remember him.

«Look at the fish I caught!»

A child he loved, he would have given everything for, who made him feel better just by being around. Travelling to the New Continent took so much longer back then, and there were little commodities, but it was worth the time and the inconveniences, if that meant spending time with him, seeing him, talking to him, playing with him. More than a brother, America was a part of England's soul, his son, his life.

But the child grew up—did it happen due to all of his attentions or his own achievements? One day he returned to find a teenager greeting him. Then a young adult, taller than he was, with deeper voice, who could shave his face. Who read books about freedom, followed the events in Europe with great attention, understood politics, formed his own ideas. He didn't need his older brother anymore.

In fact, he had become an obstacle to his ambitions.

He wanted to be his own person, keep his riches to himself instead of contributing to the family. He started misbehaving, taking advantage of his long absences.

And eventually became an enemy.

"Stop this nonsense now!"

"I told you I wouldn't listen to you anymore, so get out of here!"

"I won't! This is my house!"

"It's mine and you're not welcome!"

England hesitated. America did not. He lit the candle wick as he spoke, there was a detonation and England fell on his back with a hole in his chest.

It was something similar to what he felt looking into Sealand's candid smile.

"AND I JUST COULDN'T BEAR IT! I COULDN'T...go through that again...I couldn't..."

England's smile faded, seeing the boy in front of him successful, sitting by his side at international meetings, growing taller, older—succumbing to the instincts all nations had, which had to awake at some point in his growth, of conquering more land, of proving his worth getting rid of those who dragged him down...

"It's the biggest fish I've ever seen! Is this a shark?"

"Don't be silly, it's a...a..." England stood up. "I have to go."

"So soon? But you just arrived!" Sealand protested. "It must be important..."

"My life is full of important duties, I can't spend all day fishing and gazing at the clouds like some."

"When will you be free?"

"I don't know."

"England, wait! You didn't give me a rabbit goodbye kiss!"

England stopped, but then turned around and walked away, not before saying: "Oh, please, we are both old enough to do that ridiculous thing..."

His hand instinctively went to his chest. A tear dropped on it. The prince softened his expression seeing England cry.

"And it's my fault that he became something worse..."

The prince was silent for a moment, as England sobbed. He let him do—centuries keeping such thing inside of his chest had to hurt so, so much it needed a good draining.

"I can't tell you it wasn't your fault because you made my boy suffer and pushed him to this..." He finally said, when England calmed down a bit. "But maybe we're still in time to bring him back."

"I want him back...I don't mind admitting I was wrong...I will accept all punishment and rejection...I just want my brother...But I don't know how...Tul-La's body...If we destroy it..."

"Sealand will be alright."

"How do you know? Why on earth are you so certain?"

"I know. I just know. Listen, Mr. England: do you trust me?"

England sniffed. "You...?"

A pause.

"...Yes. I do..."

"Then do what you need to do. Don't mind about Tul-La."

"Haven't you seen what she...?"

"She is nothing but a seller of cheap tricks, which she uses to inspire fear and distract. Also, she is old. She is very old. And selfish. What does she know about what one can do for love? Think of Sealand, and what you'll do when he's back, running around and playing as he always does."

"You heard his last words: it's too late for me to try..."

"He has never stopped wanting you, loving you. Believe me. You are still in time."

England closed his eyes, deep in thought, and after a while he reopened them and nodded, with a more determined look.

"You know, Mr. Bates? ...All I achieved in my life, I owe it to my own hands. Sure I summoned a storm or two at the right moment, but half of the world was at my feet and I didn't need to use magic to do it. Tul-La...It's the only thing she has...This time, I am only going to need this..."

He grabbed one old book with dark brown leather covers and left the room, not waiting for the prince. He had to get moving.

Oh, but first...

"I'm sorry I was so rude to you."

Algonquin smiled placidly.

"It's alright. You are going through a great suffering."

"Well, that's going to end soon. Most probably because she will kill me, but I will do everything I can to send that witch back to whatever hell she should have been sent."

"It's nice to see you recover your fighting instinct."

"Aren't you coming with us?"

"I wouldn't be useful to you there. But I will be with you, still."

"Dear Lord, can't you just say what you mean straightforwardly?"

Algonquin just smiled at that, and England ended up smiling too.

"Take care of Mr. Bates, then. Can you do me that favor?"

"I will. We will be waiting for you to come back."

"In case I don't..."

"Sure you will. Don't be foolish."

"Well, alright, when I'm back, I have to thank you somehow."

"The best thing you can do for me is teaching that monster a lesson. You know, your way. Fear not: the spirits guide you."

England raised his eyes to the clouded sky and took deep breath.

"You sense it, right?" Algonquin said.

"I do. But I don't know if the spirits' support will be enough." England said.

"Goodbye, Great Britain. Good luck."

"Goodbye, Algonquin. See you soon, I hope."

«Sealand, don't worry, little brother: I'm coming. Your big brother is coming for you...»