Cardiff:
Garth, also known as Wales, was having a quiet afternoon, when he did that which he would greatly regret a few seconds later: he turned on the news. "Gunshots fired near the Houses of Parliament! Prime Minister set to give statement at 7:00." The headlines read. And then the camera showed Arthur's office in tatters, the window was completely missing and there were papers everywhere.
"Alistair, can't even run the kingdom for three weeks." Garth sighed, as usual, this would probably end up being his mess to clean up. Alba had told him that Arthur had asked him to take over while he went to investigate a disturbance with the faerie. A disturbance? Garth huffed, he had sensed a growing miasma since the 1790's and everyone had brushed him off. Albion was busy conquering the world, Eire suffered famines and then that split, and Alba had never been one to pick up subtle singles. No, Wales thought looking at the news, Scotland was terrible at all things subtle. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in!"
A disheveled looking Northern Ireland stood in the doorway, his red hair slightly askew and his shirt not quite buttoned evenly. "Have you seen the news?"
"Unfortunately."
"I tried calling Alistair, but he's not answering."
Wales signed and shook out his light blonde hair, gray eyes closing as he fought the headache he felt coming on. "Come in, I have tea ready in the kitchen. I'll try calling both of them again."
Garth sat down on a couch in the sitting room, and pulled out his phone. He was surprised when Alistair answered. "Yeah! Garth! Listen, I'm with Prussia right now. We are near the Tower of London, I managed to use some magic to cover our escape from an old underground drainage system. Nobody screamed, so I am thinking that it worked. But for whatever reason, it kind of took a lot out of me. Arthur is onto something; there is definitely something going on in the faerie realm, not to mention our own. It was the police who were firing on us. And it was completely unprovoked! Trust me."
Garth pressed his lips together. For the police to shoot at anyone unprovoked, much less someone who was clearly British and working in the government, was unprecedented. "You weren't drinking?"
"No, I swear Crymu! Here I be, minding my own business, signing forms, when Prussia bursts in and suddenly Arthur's office is no man's land and we be jumping out the window and ducking under fire."
Wales massaged his temple and sighed, "Well is Arthur back yet? He's the sweet talker when it comes to politicians. Bryan is here. I'm not even going to ask about Prussia."
"No, but Gilbert did see him earlier this morning? In Paris, I believe. Seems as if our wee brother opened a portal…"
"He what?"
"I know England has been paranoid lately, but if he were willing to open a portal between in the worlds and in two major cities, nonetheless. And send Prussia through it, of all nations. And Gilbert claimed the French police had been firing at him too…." Wales heard a clamor on the other end when suddenly Alistair was replaced by the Prussian.
"Hey Wales! I promise you I gave zem no reason to shoot. They just turned! I swear zat I waz stealth personified… and ze awesomeness that is Pru… ah!
"Brother, something is happening. I can sense it. Arthur is missing, something is wrong with the EU nations, not to mention the faerie world. We need to regroup."
"I agree," Garth sighed. It was funny how they now tried to convince him of the very thing that he had been trying to tell them about for two hundred years. But he let it go, saying 'I told you so' would just be a waste of breath. "Bryan and I will wait for you here."
"Okay, we're on our way. Oh, one last thing, Arthur wanted us to go see America, claims his lands are safer. So we might be seeing the kid come morning." Alistair warned, before hanging up. Garth nodded and pocketed his phone.
"So, Arthur's done something stupid? Can't say I'm surprised," Bryan proclaimed from where he was reclining on one of the couches in his brother's living room.
"Oh yes, bawd bach opened a portal between Paris and London."
"The eegit."
"But it gets better, apparently he sent Prussia through it….And….The police were shooting at both Gilbert and Alistair. Not just here, but apparently in France as well. Oh, and sounds like Arthur has inadvertently gotten America involved. No doubt he will be here by tomorrow, guns a-blazing."
Bryan smiled, "Oh sure, like the boyo's goin' have all the fun without us. Not this time." And with that Northern Ireland summoned his staff and silver-plated armor from the faery realm.
Wales eyed his getup disapprovingly. "No one's leaving until we get more details. If you want to do be useful, you can wash the dishes..." his voice carrying off as he watched Bryan's face drain of blood.
"Hey, Eire. Are you alright?"
"God, what am…" Ireland muttered before passing out cold.
Alistair stared out of the Taxi window as it pulled up outside his brother's townhome in Cardiff. He nudged Prussia awake, and the two of them thanked the driver before getting out and walking to the door. Wales welcomed the two of them at the door, and as Scotland walked in, he did a double take when he saw Northern Ireland in full armor sleeping on the couch. Prussia literally stopped.
"I did not know Ireland had such awesome pajamas."
Alistair looked pointedly at Wales, who raised his hands in defense.
"Eire was going on about not wanting Arthur to have all the action, and he pulled his armor out of the ether only to faint right afterwards."
"Aye, we have a storm brewing. When I covered our escape from subterranean London, I felt faint as well. Almost if I had fought five nukelavee in the dark of night when all I did was ensure that passerby didn't notice."
Wales nodded. "It seems as if our access to the fae world is being cut off. No it's more than that. It's as if we are being punished for even trying. Albion harnessing so much power to open the portal may have accelerated things, but this….this...miasma… It's existed before."
"Well best I pull my gear out before it's too late!"
"Wait, Alba!" But his younger brother ignored him. Alistair spread his arms and reached into another world, calling his beloved claymore and highland armor to him. When he felt something thick and dark wrap around him. It entangled around his arms and his throat. He tried to bark a warning to the others but no sound came out. He began to struggle, when suddenly the thick darkness left, leaving only vague shadow. Scotland blinked and quickly tried to access his surroundings when suddenly he heard a great rushing sound. The great darkness returned, rushing over him like a tidal wave. And he knew no more.
Wales caught his brother as he fell backwards. Prussia stared, crimson eyes wide in alarm. "My brothers and I have always had a connection to the faerie world," Wales explained as he gently laid Alistair on the floor. "Think of it like Shakespeare's MidSummer's Night Dream or Narnia, maybe. Usually their world is like eternal spring. And while there is darkness, it has for a longtime been banished to the far corners of the realm. Our mother, Britannia, played a role in that battle, which is why my brothers and I are so welcome there. They fae especially doted on Albion, since he was the youngest and his young eyes could better see and appreciate the magic of their lands."
"So, I take it you guys are not so welcome any more?"
"That's a nice way to put it simply. I fear you too will be dragged into this mess. Get some sleep. We'll talk more in the morning."
Alistair woke up the next next morning to the smell of eggs frying and the sound of general clamor coming from downstairs. He eyed the antique alarm clock on the table, 6:30. A bit earlier than he was accustomed to waking but what concerned him more was the little red dragon on the alarm clock's face. Wales. Alistair rolled back over and placed an arm over his eyes. How bad had it gotten for Garth of all people to have to drag his sorry arse all the back to Cardiff?
"Hey, Uncle Garth! You don't happen to have anymore chocolate chips? I need them to make these pancakes beyond delicious!" An American voice was shouting up from downstairs.
Scotland opened one hazel eye, and squinted against the light. He hadn't seen America in months, some were even claiming that he was going isolationist again. And for him to be visiting Wales of all people? Usually his eldest brother was more of the stoic, unsociable type. Not that America would really care, but he still thought that the superpower would visit Arthur before Garth. Then he saw his claymore leaning against the wall, and it all came rushing back. Arthur's absence from parliament, the attack in the office, Prussia's involvement, and the darkness in the faerie world.
Immediately Scotland got up, grabbed a robe, and strode out of the room. The scene in the kitchen was one of borderline chaos. America was flipping pancakes using only the frying pan, completely disregarding the spatula. Prussia had commandeered a skillet and seemed to be grilling wurst, smiling like a maniac as he did so. Northern Ireland was still asleep in the coach.
"Apparently Arthur called him right after he sent Prussia over. Said Europe was in danger, and something else but America wasn't really sure because after hearing the word "danger" he proclaimed that the hero would save everyone and booked the next flight to London. How he found us here, I cannot say. Only that he did. He was here by 4:00 this morning," Wales said quietly as he walked up behind Scotland, a dish towel in his hands.
"And apparently he's not tired at all?"
"I don't know how he does it. Sometimes I think he never sleeps." Wales shrugged.
"Well at least we know the secret to getting him out of his isolationist moods. Hey, boyo, how is it across the Atlantic?"
"Aaay, Uncle Alistair! We are good. England called in a panic. I think he may have wanted you guys to come to my place. But it is winter right now, and it's too cold and boring. So I came here instead! There were police all over London, some were eyeing me too, so I pulled my hood up. Wasn't looking to get into a firefight right off the the plane. Apparently someone bombed Parliament or something. Is Arthur alright?"
Boy the lad could talk. "He's currently MIA. And yea, something is wrong with the police. They shot at Gilbert and I. Tore up England's beloved Mahogany desk."
Alfred smirked. "The hero will save the old man! But you have to do the desk shopping."
"Watch who you are calling old, yeh baby," Scotland warned, hitting Alfred over the head.
"Oh yeah, you're like 2700 or something, right? Are we sure you aren't part Neanderthal?"
"No, we're not sure at all," Wales answered, eyeing his brother.
"I'll take both of yeh for that insult," Scotland warned, cracking his knuckles.
"Zee awesome me calls winner," Prussia butted in from his place behind the skillet.
"There will be no fighting this morning." Wales warned looking all three of his companions in the eye. "Now let's go through what we know. Our last confirmed sighting of Arthur was a cathedral in France. And we have most of the rest of the continent that went to that meeting in Paris and never came home. Right? Has anyone been able to get a hold of any EU nation?"
Everyone solemnly shook their heads.
"We also have a situation with the police and an unexplained darkness in the faerie realm."
"Aw my old crazy uncles. Sure you guys don't belong in an asylum?," Alfred spoke up.
"I'm serious, Alfred. Flying Mint Bunny attacked Arthur, North and I fainted simply trying to summon our armor, a Kelpie…"
"Mint did what?!"
Opps. Scotland had forgotten to tell Wales about that little detail. He was hoping to stave off the twenty hours of analysis that was bound to happen.
"Yes, charged him with an enchanted dagger. He thinks someone or something is trying muster powers of manipulation or control. It's the main reason why he left."
"Who charged who with a dagger?" North walked in on the conversation, blinking the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes and dressed in his regular clothes.
"Uh, the Mint bunny attacked Iggy," America added helpfully.
"It waz an enchanted dagger!" Prussia voiced from the kitchen.
"What?!"
Scotland grimaced. No way out of it now. He accounted for the others what Arthur had told him that morning.
"Bloody hell."
Scotland nodded.
"Were any other fae witness to this? Have you asked them if they are aware what is happening?"
"Not that I am aware. I've asked a couple of fairy and nymphs, they all claim that all is right and peaceful at home. A Kelpie was the only one who warned of any darkness."
"Well, sounds like we have two mysteries to solve. So Paris?" America asked.
"What?"
"Paris. That is where the trail runs cold. We should go there," the American explained matter-of-factly.
"Someone needs to go the Faerie Realm," Scotland spoke up.
"And someone needs to stay here and watch our backs. Frankly, with so many personifications missing, the continent is open for an attack," Wales advised.
"Seems like yeh be our man" Scotland elbowed his brother. "We should have someone with sight in each group. America and I will cross the realms. Eire and Prussia to Paris. Wales will be mission control here in Britain."
"But America doesn't possess sight. He won't be able to cross over."
"Ack, he's sensitive enough, seeing ghosts and everything. I'll whip up some salve for him."
"Schieße, I haven't even finished breakfast and we already have a plan."
As Bryan and Gilbert went to pack and Garth finished with the dishes, Scotland started pulling strange vegetables and spices out of the fridge as America watched. The teenager nervously shifted his weight from side to side. "You know, Uncle Al, not that I ain't excited about our magical adventures and saving England's ass and all, but you sure ya know what you're doing?"
"Of course, ye idiot," Scotland proclaimed as he ground some garlic and leeks with a stone. He poured in some honey and water and a pinch of something else and began to mix it all together. He then pulled a vial out of his bathrobe and put a drop in. America gulped as his imagination ran wild. Nope! He had seen this in the movies too many times. These British people were even crazier than he thought. All of 'em. Straight out lost their minds. He was outta here. He turned on his heel when Scottland caught him by the collar and bodily swung him around. Before Alfred could put up a fight, Alistair flipped the American's glasses up into his hair and smeared the paste over his closed eyes.
"You backstabbing…" Alfred shouted as he struggled against the Scot, eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly his uncle let go and backed up. America stopped, hesitantly opened his eyes, and promptly let loose a terrified scream.
Prussia had been ironing a borrowed shirt for the trip to France when he heard the young superpower's blood curdling scream. He shuddered. Northern Ireland laughed. Prussia stared at him before shaking his head: "I am beginning to see why ze kid declared independence. You guys have lost more marbles than Francis."
"There's…. there's a naked woman staring at me!" America yelled, shaky fingers pointed at the window. Scotland looked and sure enough, Willow, a wood nymph who was friends with the Kirklands was just outside the window, doubled over laughing at the young nation's plight. She was also fully clothed in leaves, vines, and flowers.
"That's Willow, ye idgit! She lives just beyond the yard."
"Hello, America! It is good to know that the hero is so scared of me," she waved in a sweet voice.
"Hey Willow, have you seen Arthur at all?"
"No, and I overheard your story about Mint. I can't believe it. I mean Kelpie has been galloping around claiming that war is coming, but he's always been so melodramatic. Everything is as usual. Maybe some tension with the Nightlanders but only a skirmish or two."
"I see."
"I've lost my mind,"
"No, my sweet America! You have just found it! Well I must be off. Good luck Alba, America."
"Thanks, Will!"
"Uh, yeah, thanks?" And with that Willow turned from the window and disappeared.
"Now what weapons do ye fancy?" Alistair asked his nephew.