Spéir found himself running along the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea. The sky was melting into twilight and shooting stars were traveling across it. The ocean waves crashed against the cliff; the sparkling waters causing refreshing mist to rain everywhere. It was a magical moment, if he would have looked. However, Spéir's focus was elsewhere.

He could feel something change within him. It was a feeling that he had never felt before. He could feel the land around him breathing. He could feel its pain, its joy, and its age within his very soul.

"Ireland!" Spéir called out to his friend and twin. The nation was in front of him, looking out at the ocean. "Ireland! We have a problem!"

Ireland didn't acknowledge the fact he heard. His gaze unwavered and Spéir noted that he had a hard look on his face. Serious and angry. A look that Spéir had seen on his face more and more. "Dá fhada an lá tagann an tráthnóna." (No matter how long the day, the evening comes.)

Spéir stopped. Ireland looked at his brother, a melancholy look in his eyes. "Will you stay with me?" Ireland asked sadly.

"Of course I will. What kind of question is that?"

Ireland walked over to Spéir and held both his hands. "Even if it tears our family apart?"

Spéir had no answer. "You are sounding a lot like Wales…"

"North," Ireland said, and he continued saying something, but the words were drowned out by the sound of rolling thunder. Spéir looked out into the sea. There was a storm raging in the distance. Lighting sparked in the clouds and the rain was coming down like a sheet. It sounded a lot closer than where it was…

Northern Ireland woke up to the sound of heavy rain pounding on the window. It took him a few moments to shake off the dream and realize that it was actually raining. He sat up and went over to the window. It had been the first time in weeks that he had seen rain, and even longer that he had seen rain this heavy. It was coming down in sheets. Northern Ireland smiled widely. At long last, something he could do to help.

"Wake up, Ire! It's raining!"

Ireland rolled over and groaned. He was not a morning person, even on a good day. It was worse when there was a storm.

Northern Ireland ran over to Ireland's bed. "Come on, get up! Before it stops, because you know that's how our luck can run sometimes." Northern Ireland shook Ireland's shoulder until his brother opened his eyes and sat up.

"What is it, North?" Ireland groaned. He messaged his forehead with his fingers.

Northern Ireland was trying to find their dancing clothes. Not that the pants and the shirt made much of a difference besides aesthetic; the most important bit was the shoes which were by the bed. They were made for the purpose of Irish dance and magic. "It's raining, and it's raining hard." Once he found them, Northern Ireland threw a pair of dancing clothes at Ireland, hitting him square in the face, then put on the other pair. He looked up once he was dressed to see that Ireland was still in a drowsy daze. Northern Ireland shook his head, and put on the shoes. "Put those on and meet me outside." Northern Ireland darted out of the room, then came back in to add, "And hurry!"

As Northern Ireland ran through the halls heading to the courtyard, he felt excited. It had been a while since Northern Ireland did any substantial magic work. He knew it was going to be great.

Suddenly, Northern Ireland ran into Canada. They both crash to the ground and looked at one another in surprise. They both apologized at the same time.

"What's going on, North?" Canada asked. He was in his normal red sweatshirt that bore the flag of his nation on it.

"It's raining!" Northern Ireland said, helping Canada to his feet and then dancing a little with him. He knew, especially by Canada's look of confusion, that it must have been odd for someone to be excited about heavy rain. Northern Ireland didn't care.

Once Northern Ireland got outside, he dropped a large wooden board onto the grass area of the courtyard and tested it out so that it wouldn't wobble. Then, he warmed up his feet, humming the tune of "Flaming Red Hair". Yes, he watched the Lord of the Rings movies, with an unwilling Ireland.

"Don't you want a rain jacket, dude?" America asked, a yellow rain jacket in hand, accompanied by Canada.

"Not this time, Alfred," Northern Ireland said, smiling proudly, "Today, you shall see magic at its finest."

"You might get sick though," Canada commented worriedly.

"Not with this charm," Ireland said, coming out holding a wooden sheep charm up and carrying a CD player. Behind him were the rest of the family. Ireland put the charm over Northern Ireland's head; he too had a matching one over his own neck.

"Are you two going to dance?" Australia asked, "Out in the rain?"

"Best way to do this magic," Northern Ireland answered, "I need the energy of the rain."

"Awesome."

"Ready?" Ireland asked after setting up the CD player and joining Northern Ireland on the platform.

Northern Ireland nodded. Ireland pressed play on the player. The song that came out was "Wale Me Up". The upbeat guitar started off and the brothers tapped out the beat before starting. They had different choreography for this song, two different rhythms to completely capture it. It was something similar to two people singing in harmony. This was the kind of thing the brothers did together, mainly because Northern Ireland wanted to and Ireland went along with it. Ireland started singing the words to it; not in English but in Irish Gaelic, something that he put together. In the recent years, Ireland started translating popular songs into Irish Gaelic. Northern Ireland would have joined in with the singing as well, however he needed to concentrate on the spell. Once the modern techno part came in, the music on the player stopped and it was just the foot taps driving the song, the music coming from their feet. Northern Ireland could feel his magic at work. He could see the blue and green sparks flying off Ireland's shoes. By the second verse, Northern Ireland couldn't feel the rain anymore. He glanced over at Ireland; his brother smiled back at him. It was the first time in a long time that Northern Ireland seen him smile naturally like that.

Northern Ireland looked over at England, who had his armed crossed over his chest and didn't seem impressed by the dance. However, he was tapping his foot in beat, so he was invested more than he was letting on. Northern Ireland assumed that he was in the period of time where he wouldn't let anyone have any fun. That was a dark time. Northern Ireland tried to not let that get the better of him; after all, he had more important work to do.

The spell that he was casting was a powerful healing spell. The dance was only part of the spell; it was the build up of energy Northern Ireland needed for healing. He could feel the energy swirl all around him as the green and blue sparks jumped from his feet. It had been a long time since he felt this feeling. He smiled.

Once the song was done, everyone clapped. Ireland took a bow as Northern Ireland ran over to England and gave him a giant hug. He let his magical energy flow from himself to England, targeting the ambrosia plaguing his mind. It took more magic to do than he had originally anticipated, and almost completely collapsed into England's arms.

"Steady now," England said, supporting his brother. He looked concerned.

"That was amazing!" Australia, Canada, and America said in unison.

"Do another!" Australia added.

"Another?" Northern Ireland asked. He suddenly felt exhausted and slightly lightheaded. Maybe he should have had breakfast beforehand.

Ireland came up to Northern Ireland and checked his brother over. "Let's go inside and get out of this rain," he suggested, "We can talk about what to do after once we get warmed up."

The Irish twins were the first inside. Ireland sat Northern Ireland down on a chair. "You used up a lot of energy…" Ireland said worriedly.

"It just came out… I don't know why. But it was what was needed, so it's ok."

"…take it easy after breakfast, ok? I don't want you passing out."

Northern Ireland hugged his brother around the waist. "I won't. I promise. We only need one sick person to worry about."

88888

After breakfast, America and Northern Ireland ended up in the sitting room, next to the fireplace. England was there as well, but he was studying a book on ancient Celtic history. America was going through his news feed, sifting for anything interesting. Anything other than memes; his states really loved sending him the stuff. As much as America appreciated good memes, he wasn't in the mood.

"Something wrong?" Northern Ireland asked, trying to get himself comfortable wrapped up in a blanket.

"…you know that lake in the forest?" America said, turning off the screen of his phone, "I feel guilty. Like, I don't remember it at all but everyone is saying that I did all that. Even if I didn't actually… I still feel guilty. I don't like hurting people. I'm the hero! I'm supposed to save people."

Northern Ireland nodded. "I'm like that too. I want everyone to be happy all the time. But… sometimes that can't happen." Northern Ireland stared at the fire, "Sometimes, you have to do what's right for you, even if it does mean walking away."

"That doesn't change the guilt."

"No. Sometimes… you have to live with it and move on. It sucks, but…" Northern Ireland shrugged.

"I can't do magic… but I want to heal that place. I want to make it right."

"Tomorrow, we can go and look at it together. I'll do my best to help. I want to heal that place too. Honestly, I can't believe no one knew about it until now."

America looked into the fire. The flickering flames danced about in a mesmerizing pattern. "I don't like feeling helpless…"

"Like?"

America looked at England, who was dozing off in his chair. The American figured it was a boring book. "There have been many times in my past where I was useless in the face of things. I hate that feeling. I want to be strong. I want people to rely on me." He thought back to his civil war. Everyone was fighting all around him and nothing he did made the situation any better. It took everything to keep himself together. Even then… it wasn't enough…

"I came to the conclusion long ago that no one can be a single strong pillar. Any nation that has tried has broken in spectacular fashion…" Northern Ireland looked over to where England was, "Take him for example. He was close to having the entire world in the palm in his hand. And now, well… But let's say this didn't happen, he still wouldn't be standing alone. He would have had us standing behind him, adding to his might and giving him support. Everyone needs support, and it isn't a bad thing. It keeps you sane."

America looked back to his past. Even at the beginning, when he was nothing more than a dream several small colonies shared, it was because several people banned together to overcome adversity. He was still built on that philosophy.

"So, I have a question for you," Northern Ireland sat up and moved so that he was shoulder to shoulder with America, "Can you please explain to me how your baseball can have a world series, but the only teams that play in it are from your country exclusively?"

America blinked in surprise and then started laughing out loud. England startled awake because of this, since America's laugh was a very piercing sound. "I mean, if you want to come along, you're going to have to get good." The two of them talked about baseball for a while; it was mostly America talking since this was one of his many specialties.

88888

Canada found Ireland after breakfast changing into casual clothes: a simple t-shirt and black jeans. His hair was still wet from being outside in the rain.

"What did you think?" Ireland asked, when he noticed Canada walk into the room. "Of the performance?"

"It was amazing. You two are very skilled at dancing."

"It takes a lot of practice, I can tell you that. I sucked when we first started."

"And North didn't?"

"He was a lot better at the beginning. So, what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could ask you something that's been on my mind for a long time now," Canada said timidly, "You and North seem to have a special connection. A special bond. Why is that? Is it because you are twins?"

Ireland looked down at his shirt before putting it on, thinking about what to say. "No, because truth be told, we aren't proper twins. We aren't blood brothers…" Ireland looked at the sheep charm around his neck, then glanced at Canada, who was looking back expectantly. "When… when I was born, I was alone for some time. All I knew was my name: Ireland. And then I met Spéir, a human who immediately knew I wasn't one of his kind. At first, I thought he was some mutant leprechaun, but he told me all about his life in the village by the sea. We became fast friends, and we explored my land all the time. I gave him the nickname North… I forget the reason why now, but it always sounded better than Spéir, especially as time wore on. Mum eventually found us, and she cared for both of us, even though she had no idea what to do with North. We grew up with Scotland, Wales, and England, and for a time we both forgot that we weren't really brothers. As the years wore on, something changed in him… he stopped being human. He knew things that at one point only I knew, like when a nation invaded or illness was spreading through the land. He became a nation, but I wasn't sure of what. That was, until sometime during the 1700's, more than a century since the plantings first began. I… it…" Ireland struggled to find the right words, "I figured that the northern bit of Ireland was starting to be different from the rest. The history… the culture… the religion even… they were different because of the plantings… It was no longer fully Ireland. And then, 1922 came along and the country of Northern Ireland was officially established."

"So… North was human once?" Canada asked, slightly surprised.

Ireland nodded. "No one else knows that. At least I don't think. And you better not tell them."

"I won't. I promise. But… how was he able to live for all that time? Before he became a nation?"

Ireland looked at Canada, who got the impression he was being judged. "…you know how you can keep your bear alive with you as a companion, right?"

Canada nodded, not entirely sure where this was going.

"We nations can keep one living thing with us without it dying. A human life is included with that."

"And you kept North alive?"

Ireland nodded. "I had no idea. I wanted a friend. I didn't want to be alone. This is why I just can't simply forgive what England had done to me. Separating North from me."

"Did Northern Ireland not have a say?"

Ireland stayed quiet for a moment. "…if England had minded his own business, none of this would have happened."

Canada shrugged, "Maybe. A lot of things wouldn't have happened if England minded his own business. But, here we are now, and nothing can be done about what happened. You can't change history."

"…you can only change what you do after," Ireland mused, "Britannia used to tell me and North something similar, when it came obvious that our gifts allowed us to see into the past." Ireland took a deep breath.

'What is it with these ex-British nations getting over shit?' Canada thought for a moment before telling himself to knock it off. He didn't walk in Ireland's shoes, nor would he ever want to.

Author's Note: America can talk anyone's ear off about baseball, and he can do so even more about American football. And he and Canada get into arguments all the time about hockey, however it is only Canada who can go on and on about the sport.

Translation Note: Dá fhada an lá tagann an tráthnóna. - No matter how long the day, the evening comes. It's an Irish saying.

That is it for this week's update. Until next time, please comment.