It continued to rain the next day, with the exception that it started thundering too. The perfect combination for going out into the forest to save a muck-filled lake. "You know, America," Ireland said, "Just putting it out there, you're crazy."

"Yeah, Al," Canada said, "We could do this on a day when it isn't pouring buckets."

"We're almost there though," America said. He was determined to fix the damage that he had been done. Not that he was going to do magic. No, because if he was the cause of what happened, he really didn't want to awaken that evil.

"Besides," Northern Ireland said, "We are protected by the charms." He smiled at Ireland.

"Charms don't ward off lighting," Ireland stated blandly.

They got to the lake, which was just as miserable and bleak as ever. Northern Ireland walked around the boarder of the place. "We're going to have to use some sort of dispel," was the conclusion he came to once he joined with the others again, "Healing isn't going to cut it since it hasn't started doing that naturally. America, are you sure you don't remember what you were trying to do?"

"I keep telling you, dude," America said, trying not to snap down Northern Ireland's neck, "I have no memory of this place."

Canada looked at the lake, then walked back a few paces. "America took one of England's books," the Canadian said, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed, trying to remember, "I told him it was a dumb idea, but he never listened to me back then." Canada took a step forward, and pretended to open a book in front of him. "He started reciting something…" Canada opened his eyes and looked at America, "You couldn't pronounce anything correctly."

"So?" America asked, wondering what the point of the statement was.

"And you gave up halfway." Canada glared at his brother.

"Oh," the Irish twins said in unison, everything making sense to them.

"So?" America asked again. Wasn't it better to stop a spell that was being done incorrectly?

"Magic is the last thing you want to do halfway," Ireland explained, "If you start something, you have to see it through to the end." He turned to Canada, "What did the book look like?"

"Um… It was black…" Canada slowly shrugged when he couldn't give any more details.

"Good thing he only has one big black spell book," Ireland said, then suddenly summoned the book in question, "And let's just all hope he doesn't want this thing any time soon."

Canada, America, and Northern Ireland crowded around Ireland's shoulders under the umbrella and looked at the spell contained. It all looked like gibberish to America. The words looked familiar, but not at the same time. "How can he read this?" America asked, looking incredulously at the Irelands.

"It's Old English," Northern Ireland explained, "He's had this book for a while. Do you think he remembers any Old English?"

"I doubt it," Ireland remarked. His eyes glowed for a few moments. "There were a few times where he had to rewrite some of his spells because he had forgotten his old language." He suddenly smirked as the light faded from his eyes, "I forgot that it's fun insulting him using Old English since he can't remember what it means."

"There," Canada said, pointing to a spell, "That's it."

"A spell for warding off pestilence," Ireland said, looking through it, "It would make sense the spell casted halfway would cause this."

Canada suddenly fell to his knees, his mouth covered and tears welling up in his eyes. His shoulders shuttered uncontrollably.

"Matthew?" America asked, rushing to his brother's side, "Are you ok?"

The two western nations looked at each other. America could see pain in Canada's eyes. "You have to finish the spell," Canada said quietly.

"But…"

"You started it, Al. You have to finish it."

America really, really, really didn't want to. The concept of even having magic in the first place freaked him out. He was not just scared, he was terrified. "Only because you asked, Matt," America found himself saying, with a strength he didn't feel like he had.

Canada pointed to the part where America had originally stopped reading. Looking over the words, America had no idea how he was even going to read this.

"If it makes you feel any better," Northern Ireland said, seeing America's lost expression, "Intent is always the driving factor of any spell. It doesn't matter what is said or not said, so long as you have the intent in your mind. Words are used to better focus the intent."

America breathed and, to the best of his pathetic linguistic abilities, read the rest of the spell. He could feel something swell within him. It felt ancient and powerful. As much as he tried to control it, it came out all the same. The lake started clearing, blossoms bloomed on the trees around, and bright green grass grew.

"Not too shabby for your first go at magic," Ireland said, looking very impressed.

"What are you talking about?" Northern Ireland expressed, giving America a hug, "That was incredible! Even more impressive than Wales' first spell."

"Wales' first spell?" Canada asked.

"When we were all young," Ireland explained, banishing the spell book back where it belonged, "Wales' had trouble with controlling his magic. He had it, and it was powerful, but he didn't have any luck bringing it out. He did some challenge in order to train more on magic. And it worked. The first thing he made with his magic was Excalibur."

"The legendary sword?" America asked, an eyebrow raised.

"The same," Northern Ireland said, "It was so beautiful. And it was very powerful."

"The legendary sword?" America was still not believing it.

"Yes…" Ireland stared at America, then proceeded to slap him in the back of the head, "All the Arthurian stories happened. In Wales. He doesn't like talking about it though. You know how it ends, right? I don't have to go into that whole mess?"

America had a weird thought. "…so does that make England the once and future king? Since his human name is Arthur?"

The Irish twins looked at each other. Apparently, neither one of them thought about it before. "That would be a fun day trip," Northern Ireland said.

"No, we are not doing that," Ireland crushed that idea completely, "Besides, no one knows where that sword is anymore." Thunder crashed nearby and everyone suddenly remembered that it was raining. "I'm going back, now that our business here is done. Before I get struck by lightning." Ireland started walking back, Northern Ireland right behind him.

America and Canada looked at the lake. Even in the rain, its beauty was plainly visible. "You did good," Canada said.

"Yeah… I'm never doing that again." But even as he said that, America had a bad feeling that maybe he wouldn't keep that unofficial promise. Blue sparks danced around his hands.

88888

Australia and Scotland were stuck in the kitchen doing business. Not with each other, but with their respective governments. Australia had been putting off getting paper work turned in (humans loved paperwork, something Australia had yet to understand) and Scotland just got an email that morning concerning a few things he had to fix.

"Of all the things to keep from England's system, why did it have to be the paperwork," Scotland groaned as he read through the form for the third time, not understanding what he filled out wrong.

"It's probably easier," Australia said, "Better than making a whole new system."

"Easier for who?"

"Not for us, that I can tell you," Australia said, winking.

"We're back," Northern Ireland said, poking his head into the kitchen. "You look like you're going to kill someone, Scotty."

"I would, if it were a different time."

The door bell suddenly rang. It felt like it echoed through the house. "Who would be here in this rain?" Northern Ireland asked.

Scotland got up and went over to the front door. "How about you get yourself a towel and dry yourself off first," Scotland said before he left the kitchen.

"You do look like you've been swimming," Australia said, shrugging, "How did it go with the lake?"

"America brought it back to its former glory. We should go up there when its stopped raining. It's much more pleasant now."

"America actually did magic?" Australia sounded amazed.

Northern Ireland nodded, "And it was amazing. I always figured that America would have powerful magic, but I was still blown away."

"You sound enamored."

Northern Ireland grinned. "So what's all this?"

"Short answer: procrastination."

"Is this stuff because of your new boss?" Northern Ireland looked over Australia's shoulder.

"That and some stuff that people want built. Not that I get much of a say in any of it, but they want me to fill out paper work all the same. What's the point when you don't really care?"

"I wouldn't know. There isn't much room to build new things at my place."

Scotland popped back in, and he wasn't alone. Along with him was a young adult, about as drenched as Northern Ireland was.

"Oi, another one who likes swimming," Australia said.

Scotland gave him a look, then looked back at Northern Ireland. "Spéir, can you please get yourself a towel? And can you get one for our guest as well?"

"You got it, Scotty." Northern Ireland left the kitchen through the other door.

"This is Victoria," Scotland explained to Australia, "She got lost out in the rain."

"That's impressive," Australia told the young adult, "I thought I was the only helpless one with directions. I'm Kyle."

"So I have a question," Victoria said, once she got her coat off and sat down in a chair, "You're name is Allistor, but your nickname is Scotty?"

Australia burst out in to laughter. Scotland shot him a dangerous look, which didn't shut him up in the slightest. "I'm from Scotland, that's why the nickname." Australia fell off his chair, still laughing. "For Croist's sake, it's not that funny."

"Is everything ok in here?" Northern Ireland asked, coming in with a towel for Victoria. His own towel was on his head.

"I'm fine, North. I'm fine…" Australia said, trying to keep himself from laughing while talking.

"You say that, and I don't believe it." Northern Ireland looked over at Scotland.

Scotland rolled his eyes, and walked over to Northern Ireland. "Can you go find England?" Scotland said in a hushed voice, "So that he doesn't get himself into any trouble. The last thing we need is our guest running into him in this state."

"He should be fine now, though," Northern Ireland said, "I healed him."

"Have you seen him yet today?"

"No, but…"

"Not now, North. Please?"

Northern Ireland gave Scotland a look, and went out of the kitchen again.

"So, how did you get lost anyway?" Australia asked Victoria. Scotland started to gather the paperwork scattered on the table and closed his laptop. It seemed as though nothing more was going to get done that day.

"I'm from London," Victoria explained, "My class is taking a weekend trip up here in York and today, we are just exploring on our own. I thought I heard there was a good tavern hidden away through a forest path, but then I got lost and turned around. I ended up finding this place."

"But in the rain?" Scotland asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I heard about it from a friend and I wanted to try it out as soon as I could so that I could tell him about it."

"Ooh, and who's your friend?" Australia asked interested.

Victoria did not appreciate the tone in his voice, "His name is Arthur, and we are just friends. We talk history together."

"Oh." Australia was no longer interested.

"When the rain lets up a little," Scotland said, "I can take you back to wherever village you're staying at."

"It is hard to see in all this rain…" Victoria agreed.

88888

Northern Ireland ran throughout the house, trying to find England. He would have thought that nation would be easier to find, but Northern Ireland circled the house twice and could find no sign of the Englishman. He was starting to panic a bit.

"North, we saw you pass here two times already," Canada said, stopping Northern Ireland. He and America were drying off in the sitting room. America had taken off his shirt, and a towel was over his head. Canada had changed into a different sweatshirt. "What's going on?"

"I need to find England," Northern Ireland said, "We have a guest in the house and we don't really know what state his head is in."

"But, like, you healed him," America said, confused, "Shouldn't he be fine now?"

"He was still sleeping when we left this morning," Northern Ireland said, "And none of us have seen him since we got back…"

"Isn't Wales with him right now?" Canada asked.

"Yeah, that's right!" Northern Ireland said brightly, then deflated almost immediately, "He was alone though…"

"Let's go then," America said. He stood up and started leaving the room.

"Hey!" Canada exclaimed and threw America a fresh shirt.

The three of them headed to England's study. Along the way, luckily enough, they finally found England. "…he is dying," England was saying, "How can you have forgotten that?"

"There you are!" America said, running up to England, "You gave us all a scare, old man…" America noticed the person England was talking to. She looked very confused. "Hey there."

"Um…"

Northern Ireland grabbed England's hand, "Come on, Arthur. There's something I need to talk to you about. You two take Victoria to the kitchen. This place is really big and easy to get lost in."

A heavy silence prevailed when Northern Ireland and England left. Victoria looked between America and Canada. "Let's go to the kitchen, eh?" Canada said.

"So, who are you two?" Victoria asked as they headed off in that direction.

"I'm Alfred, and this is my brother, Matthew," America explained.

"And how do you two know Arthur?"

"Um…" America said, at a slight loss for words. It was hard to really pinpoint what England was to America.

"He's our brother," Canada stepped in.

Victoria raised an eyebrow, and looked at America, "You call your brother an old man?"

"I mean… he is," America pouted.

"How old are you?"

"19?" America had to think about that one. Was he still 19? He had been 19 for a while.

They got to the kitchen, where Scotland and Australia were still hanging out, but Wales was now there too. "Say do you two know where…" Wales started to say, then he saw Victoria and stopped.

"So, I have a few questions," Victoria spoke up as she walked in the room, "The first being how all of you know Arthur Kirkland? I know these two are brothers of his. What about the rest of you?"

"Scotty and I are also brothers of his," Wales said, motioning for Victoria to sit. "I'm not sure what you think of him, though…" Wales trailed off, looking at Australia.

Australia shrugged. "I really don't know if there is a way to explain our relationship in normal terms."

"Why do you ask?" Wales asked, not wanting to get much of a discussion of verbiage, "Did you run into Arthur?"

Victoria nodded, "What is going on with him? When I ran into him just now, he thought I was Queen Victoria and started talking about things I had no idea about. It was a good thing I got bailed out, but… Is there something I should know about him?"

"He's delusional…" Scotland started to say.

Wales put up a hand. "Wait," he said.

Everyone looked at Wales in surprise. "What?" Scotland said.

Wales took a breath to think. "How well do you know Arthur? How do you even know him?"

"We're friends," Victoria said, "I don't know much about him personally, and I honestly didn't think he had this much family… We spend a lot of time talking and discussing history. I study it in university and he has helped me get a better understanding of it."

"And what do you know about him?"

"Only that he's some sort of ambassador and that you all are assholes."

That made America and Australia laugh hard and Canada smirk a little. "Mhm, yes, we are the assholes," Scotland commented.

"I'm sure that you have a side to it as well," Victoria said, looking confused by the outburst, "But I digress." Victoria looked to Wales for an explanation.

"Can you keep a secret?" Wales asked.

Victoria nodded.

"Dylan," Scotland said in warning.

Wales put up his hand again. "I know what I'm doing," he told Scotland. He faced Victoria and began the explanation, "Arthur isn't delusional… or at least not in the normal sense. He's stuck in his memories right now and doesn't know where he is in time right now."

"His memories? But Queen Victoria died long before any of us were born."

"In your case, that would be true. But not for ours. You see, we all are nations personified." Wales proceeded to explain to Victoria the nation situation, something he had done many times before. But this time, it was easier because he didn't have to be so professional about it. Victoria was a very good listener and asked questions for clarification, mainly when the colonial peanut gallery interjected with a snarky comment.

Once Wales was finished, Victoria remarked, "No wonder he knew so much of obscure history. The Great British Empire… in the flesh…" Victoria turned to America, Australia, and Canada, "So I guess that makes Arthur like your ex-boss then?"

"He is still our bro," America said, "Like, that was how it started out. He found me and took me in."

"I was taken after a war with France," Canada said, "He's more like a dad to me than a brother."

"And he's just kinda England to me," Australia said, "Like he took care of me, sure, but he didn't know what to make of me."

"You were all over the place," Wales stated.

"Why tell me all this?" Victoria asked, "I can tell this is a sort of well-kept secret."

Wales remembered a time in which most people knew about the nations, back when pagan traditions were still the norm in his land. He did have human friends then too, people who he would discuss magic with. But, slowly, as public attitudes started shifting to more scientific thought, people started believing the nation story less and less, and eventually, all nations agreed it was best to just let their bosses, and a handful of other important people, be aware of nation statuses. Wales did miss the days of being able to openly talk to humans. "I feel like I can trust you. And from the sound of it, Arthur trusts you enough to keep as a friend," Wales explained, "I hope you don't prove me wrong."

"I'll won't," Victoria said, "Now, you said that Arthur is stuck in a memory? What happened? Surely, that can't be a normal thing, even for you lot?"

"No, it's not," Scotland agreed, gritting his teeth, "Maybe if he just woke up, but this is beyond that."

"He overdosed on something and that's what got his memories all jumbled up…" Wales thought back to the ambrosia. "Tell me," he said slowly, wondering if maybe, just maybe, he could get a clue as to how things escalated, "Did you notice anything odd, or a change in his behavior while you two were friends?"

"Not really… though… wait, there was." Victoria thought for a moment, "This would be after the dissolution, but he looked awful. He told me it was because he wasn't sleeping well. It would make sense now why. I suggested sleeping pills, but he told me that those wouldn't work. Is that true?"

Wales nodded solemnly, "Drugs tend to have different effects on us nations for some reason. I think the only one that works as intended is Advil."

"And alcohol," Canada piped up.

"He did get better," Victoria continued, "Or at least I thought he did. He looked better and seemed to be his usual self. And then he just disappeared. He never told me anything about it. Which hurt, but I figured something must have come up with his job. I know better now."

Everything finally made sense to Wales. He would love to hear it from the horse's mouth, but when the horse was back to his sane self. "Thank you for telling us," Wales said.

"I'm just glad he's in good hands. As I said before, whenever he talked about you two at least, he always said that you were assholes."

"Aye, I bet he would," Scotland said, rolling his eyes.

"I mean, he is right with calling you one," Wales said, a slight smirk on his face, "With all the pranks you've pulled on him over the years."

"I'm almost afraid to ask what a prank between nations entails," Victoria said.

"Depends if you are using magic or not," Scotland replied, a smirk coming to his face.

88888

The rain started lifting around mid-afternoon. Scotland went out to go see the road conditions before he'd take Victoria back to the nearby village. It was just Victoria and Wales in the kitchen, discussing history, something that Wales never thought would be so therapeutic. It was little wonder why England became friends with her. Before Victoria left, she and Wales exchanged numbers, and Wales promised to updated her on England's condition.

Northern Ireland came into the room some time afterwards, looking discouraged.

"What's wrong, North?" Wales asked upon seeing him.

"I think…" Northern Ireland said slowly, "I think England… broke himself." When Wales raised an eyebrow, Northern Ireland continued, "He… had this guilty look on his face and asked how I felt about me and Ire… He first asked about my Gaelic and it just went from there. He's never asked before… and while it was nice for him to care, a part of me feels like it's a bit late for that…"

"I didn't realize you resented England."

"Not as much as Ire and Scotty, and I wouldn't call it resentment either. Just… I have always felt torn that we couldn't get along." Northern Ireland put his head in his hands, "If he tries this with Ire right now, it won't end well."

"Maybe…" Wales shrugged, "But, the two of them are going to have to reconcile at some point. Speaking of England, where is he?"

"He's with Canada, Australia, and America."

"That's good. Canada has dealt with England vulnerable before."

A long silence prevailed after that. Northern Ireland sat there, his head still in his hands, thinking things over to himself. Wales let him, continuing on his newspaper readings. "I don't think what I did made anything better," Northern Ireland said, breaking the silence.

"It made a difference."

"But it didn't make things better…"

"We'll… figure it out. I don't know how, but we will. But, and please hear this, but England has to reconcile himself. And I think that is deeply intertwined with why he overdosed in the first place."

"And what makes you say that?"

"It's something that his friend, Victoria, said. He was looking for sleeping pills. As much as England does love to drink himself into a stooper when stuff like this happens, this seems a little different."

"We won't know until he can get into his right mind again."

"Indeed…"

Author's Note: This won't be the last we hear about Excalibur. I guarantee that much. (insert evil writer's smile here) Also, it was Australia's first time hearing Scotland's human name; that's what he was laughing about, how ridiculous the name was. It sounds more proper than the nation himself is.

That is it for this week's update. Next week, we will hear England's side of the story with Victoria. Until then.