Their World

"Ah, it's good to be back!" Matt inhaled the air around us with so much enthusiasm, I asked him twice if he was surely feeling alright.

"I was surprised that Arthur's magic got us this far into the capital, his gift surely is the best in his world!" Maddie commented, stretching her arms above her head, as if we had been traveling all the way to the 2P Universe in a run-down, tiny car.

To think that only yesterday, the three of us were in the cellar of England's spare houses, the one where he practiced all his 'dark-art' rituals back in the day. A simple transportation spell was all it took to take us here.

"Remind me again why we're here, I think the transit between our universes has scrambled my memory." I asked, a hint of sarcasm that neither of them seemed to pick up on.

"You said you wanted answers, so here you go! First, I believe there is someone you should meet," Matt exclaimed, gesturing the void around around us that just happened to be on the inside edge of a forrest, "Just a head's up, though, don't touch the cupcakes. Let alone eat them!"

After a few more minutes aimlessly walking though tall grass and thick undergrowth, there stood the so-called "capital". Which just happened to be the outskirts of London.

Though everything didn't look at all like I remembered. Sombre color-schemes were recycled for everything, even the trees and sky! Only one color stood out from the bleak, gothic settlement. That one color resembled blood, passion, anger, malice.

Red.

"Doesn't he live in the Tower of London? Matt, I believe you said that was the last place he was seen at." Maddie noted, pointing up at the lumbering tower yards away from us.

"That's correct. Hopefully he hasn't killed anyone recently, otherwise we'll be in a whole lot of shit once we get there." Matt responded flatly, though interest in the idea of a lifeless corpse struck sick excitement in his eyes. I must remember, he is my opposite personality, I reminded myself. So of course he's a sadistic sociopath!

The tower hadn't changed much, despite the blood-stained outside walls that were in contrast with my universe's old, weathered bricks.

The doorbell was new to me. Matt rung it twice, and twice again until a little gargoyle-creature opened it, a shrewd look on it's stony face.

"Come in." It said, the metallic voice-box inside of it gave me the impression that it was a robot. Though the creature looked all to real to me. I don't know, maybe the traveling has jumbled-up my brain!

The gargoyle— let's just call him a butler with a severe skin-disease —led us through a maze of rooms, cells and torture-chambers where the rich and poor died in agony for the crimes they committed or the prosecutions they were accused of.

It stopped us in front of a hard-wood door that took up almost the whole wall space, save for a window and a pair of wall-sconces. Muffled dark-wave music could be heard from outside, a melodically sinister voice hummed in tune with the old phonograph, completing the eeriness.

Upon opening the doors, the room looked as if it was used for alchemy. Dusty bookshelves lined the walls, all natural light was penetrated by heavy velvet curtains, the only light source were primitive, wax-candles. Elixirs glowed in their flasks as if they were radioactive, and working at a table over a boiling cauldron was, who I presumed to be, the alchemist. I couldn't quite make out his features, for the hood of his cloak was pulled down over his face.

The young-looking alchemist was obviously so induced in his work, that he didn't hear us entering, so I knocked twice on the door. That did the trick.

"Oh Mattie-kins, you're here!" The alchemist pranced over to Matt and gave him a bone-crushing hug, the kind of hugs you receive from your aunts and grandmothers. Maddie and I couldn't help but emit a small giggle. Pfft, Mattie-kins?! He is so not going to live that one down!

"And I see you've brought some friends today, how lovely!"

"Call me that one more time, and I'll fucking drown you in the Thames!" Matt replied coldly, in turn the alchemist waggled his finger in front of him in a disapproving manner.

"No need for that kind of talk, mister. Now, be a good boy and introduce me to your friends."

Matt sighed heavily, but did as the man said, "This is Matthew," Matt pointed to me, "My 1P. And the girl is his female counterpart, Madeline." Hm, I knew Maddie was short for something...

The man's face lit up from under his hood, "My name is Oliver Kirkland, 2P of Arthur Kirkland. Pleased to meet you two!" With that, Oliver lifted his hood back to finally display his face.

Light freckles dusted his fair-skinned cheeks that looked as if they hadn't ever faced direct sunlight before; his hair a light, pinky-blond hue. Bright blue eyes circled around pink irises, giving England's 2P a look of innocence. Though his clothes weren't visible from under his floor-length cloak, a bright blue bow-tie that accentuated his eyes could be seen at a close distance.

Suddenly, Oliver's eyes widened and his mouth formed a perfect 'o' shape, a look of 'faked' surprise, "I almost forgot," he started, before slapping a hand to his forehead, "I can't be a true host if I don't offer my guests pastries and tea!"

Oliver ducked behind a bookshelf into a joint-room, coming out balancing two trays of— are those cupcakes?

"Here, take your pick, poppets." He placed the trays on top of a conveniently placed coffee-table. Chocolate sprinkles, pink frosting, vanilla flavored, anyone would snaffle the lot if such a wish was granted. But after heeding Matt's warning, I didn't want to take my chances.

"Oliver, I don't mean to be impolite...But did you, by chance, poison these cupcakes?" I asked in the nicest possible.

The British 2P gasped with a hand across his chest, another look of 'fake' surprise, "How did you know? You are a smart one, Matthew! But not all of them are poisoned, I'll pick out some normal ones for the four of us. Also, how about some rose tea for everyone, hm?"

~•~

Well, Oliver's cooking was certainly better than Arthur's by a long shot, and I was starting to grow quite fond of the floral taste of the tea. Though I think of myself as more of a coffee person than anyone.

"So, Matthew, you came here for answers regarding a certain drug our world houses, yes?" Oliver sparked up the convocation back from it's awkward silence.

"That's right, do you know anything about a Counterfeiter...by any chance?" I asked. Surely Oliver knew the basics.

The British 2P waved my question aside like I was asking him which hand was my left, "A Counterfeiter, in short, intercepts the Chain-Reactors and gives audio-only flashbacks. Although, the drug can be extremely dangerous if it is used against you."

"Wait, wait, wait," I rushed, holding my hand up in an attempt to stop the confusion I was facing, "What do you mean by a Chain-Reactor?"

Oliver held a hand over his mouth, trying his best not to giggle. His reason was vague to me, "Oh Matthew, you have much to learn!"

"What the loon tried to say was, a Chain-Reactor is the same type of drug we gave you. You know, flashbacks and everything." Matt explained, shooting Oliver a deride look. I nodded my head slowly, taking in the information as it came.

"Spot on, Mattie! For that, I'll forget the pence you owe me for the swear-jar." Oliver gave my 2P a sweet smile, obviously relating to the greeting earlier today. "I still won't forget that name, Mattie-kins!" I thought sarcastically. And I knew Matt had heard me, his grinding teeth and tight-lipped smile made it quite clear.

"You know I can easily drown you too, right?" He thought back, smiling grimly.

Oliver checked his pocket-watch for the millionth time and gasped, "Time certainly flies when you're having telepathic convocations! Matt, be a dear and escort your friends to the dining hall, I'm sure Mortimer has finished the dinner preparations by now."

I raised my eyebrow at Oliver, and he quickly answered, "The gargoyle."

Great, does that mean everyone in the whole 2P Universe can see my thoughts and speak to me though the mind?!

"Is there anything else you wanted to ask, poppet?" Oliver questioned, in an empathetic tone, "You've been quiet a lot of the time, might it be something close to the heart?"

By then, I had realized we were the only one's left in the room, Matt and Maddie must've sensed the mood.

"Well, do you know if there is a 2P of my—" I paused to think of the right word, "partner, Gilbert Beilshmidt?"

Oliver stroked his chin, a look of uncertainty in his crystal, blue eyes. Whilst chewing on his lip, he answered, "From what happened to Prussia in 1849, it's hard to say. Tell the lad not to give up hope, because even the most impossible can become possible!"

He was right. I never thought I'd see my Papa and mother-country share the same breathing space ever again, and I was proved otherwise.

"Just to make sure," I added, "Please don't tell Arthur, okay. I don't know how he'll react if he was told I had come out of the closet."

The Brit gave a small wink, and smiled, "Oh, I'm sure he'll figure out soon enough." And with that said, he stood up from his chair and lingered at the door, waiting for me. I'm not sure if I should be relived that Oliver won't tell, or be concerned about his last statement. Despite that, I followed him to the dining room

Once I stepped inside, though, it's seemed more of a dining hall! A large, intricate chandelier hung high over a long, glass-topped dining-table. Bone-china plates were stationed in front of four designated seats, paired with sets of exquisite glassware and silverware, polished until you could see your reflection.

"Matt, please sit in whichever seat you want." Oliver offered, even though there was only one seat that hadn't been taken; one of the end seats.

As if on cue, a few more gargoyles, each of them different; flew out from the butler's pantry and out into the hall. The silver platters they held were covered, uncovering the different entrées at our seats. I was given quail, something I had yet to try.

"Now, before any of you eat, I'll have four servant test each dish. You know, just in case of a poisoning," Oliver lowered his voice at the next bit, "The gargoyles may be smart, but they're not that smart!"

With a snap of his fingers, the gargoyles that served us simultaneously cut a smidgin off of our meals and tasted the samples. At the same time, they all disintegrated into granite dust.

Oliver looked bewildered, his mouth parted in incomprehension, "This is a first, all of them obliterated! There is no way that this could be an accident." Another snap, and two nearby gargoyles cleaned up the mess proactively.

That man's words, I though. He did say that he would be the cause of my future misery, so was this his way of proving it? I can't say for sure yet, but I'll have to be extra careful with what I eat.

Out of his vest pocket, Oliver drew out a wand similar to Arthur's. The 2P closed his eyes and chanted some kind of Latin spell that sounded like jargon to the rest of us. With a wave and a flick of his wrist, four clones replaced the piles of fine dust.

"Well, at least that's done. Oliver, I need to ask you something," Matt piped up, seated in the middle of the table on my left, "Is there any new information on Allan. To be more specific, info of his whereabouts?"

That sparked attention in Oliver's eyes, while he though hard. "Ever since you left with your friend Madeline, he disappeared under the radar, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't communicate with him in any way!"

"The lads at MI6 are doing all the tracking, though they said they haven't got a sure answer yet. All they know is that he is in another dimension, possibly—" The Brit shuddered, "universe-hopping..."

Maddie gasped, her usual calm eyes suddenly as wide as her gaping mouth. Matt struck the table with the side of his enclosed fist, swearing coarsely to himself, unaware that we could hear him.

"That bastard!" Matt shouted, standing up abruptly and knocking his glass, and all it's content, to the floor. His plate soon followed, landing on the ground with a crash as the china collided with the glass. Port wine stained the ornate carpet, and most of the gravy from Matt's dish had splattered down his shirt. He was blinded by inner and physical rage, his red eyes scorching against his fair skin.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt ran out of the room, knocking over his chair and everything else in his path before slamming the door behind him, possibly busting one of it's hinges.

Oliver sunk into his chair with a sigh, bringing his hands to his face to massage his temples. Maddie's expression transformed from a look of morbid surprise to a mixture of bereave and utter sadness.

"I didn't know...I didn't know Matt could be so—" I couldn't finish my own sentence, giving up with an internal sigh.

Oliver looked up from the table and up at me, even from all the way on the opposite side of him, I could read his expression loud and clear. Unsureness, melancholy, discord.

Oliver folded his hands in front of him and began, "It all started out as simple sibling rivalry. I didn't know what I was doing wrong, until I realized that my actions were the exact opposite to Arthur's! So instead of favoring him—"

"You were favoring me..." I cut in, my forehead creased by my slanted brows.

Oliver nodded once, "Right. So much so, the two would always fight. It started verbally, though it led to Matt coming home after school with cuts and bruises. From there on out, they avoided each other like the plague, both mortal enemies. Recently, Allan was banished from this world for all the damages he caused out on a rebellious streak, and began hopping in and out of alternative universes, I believe in search for all of your alternative selves, Matthew."

Now knowing the basic information of this sibling feud, I stood up from my chair and ran off in the direction of Matt, calling a quick "Thank you for dinner." over my shoulder.

Outside the doors, I thought hard on the spot, "Now, where could he be?". It couldn't be that hard to figure out, he's me after all. So I went with my gut feeling and headed for the rooftop.

Climbing the age-old staircases wasn't easy, I had to be mindful of where I stepped, for there was no handrails and not much light. Though my hunch was right once I got to the top.

The cold, brisk wind attacked my exposed face and arms. Now I wished that I had brought my coat along with me! Pushing my complaints to the back of my mind, I walked over to the familiar silhouette a couple of yards away, sitting precariously on the medieval-styled wall around the perimeter of the flat roof.

As I got closer, I could see that Matt was crouching down, his face buried in his hands. How he managed to stay still with the strong wind beating down on his back, I had no clue.

"...Matt, I-I'm sorry. I had no idea I—" I stopped short as I realized why Matt was so quiet. He was silently crying. I had never seen him do so, I guess we have feelings deep down behind our demeanors. His back shuddered every now and again, his legs trembling.

I had long since realized what was happening once Matt opened his mouth to talk, "How could I let him get away with this...?" The sentence was muffled and his voice hoarse. I pitied him, and decided to sit down on the wall with my 2P.

"Matt, it's not your fault. Don't blame yourself for something you didn't cause." I tried to reason with him, my tone comforting.

"He...He has to be working with Francois, it's the only explanation. I hate the fact that your seeing me like this, but I...I've failed you, I've failed Maddie, I've even failed myself. With Al under his control, you're gonna rue the day you first met that madman of a frog!"

"And who is Francois?" I got that Allen was America's 2P the first time I heard it, but I didn't want to believe who the real identity of 'Francois' was.

"Simply really," Matt looked at me before spacing out, his stare blank.

"Francois...is your —our...2P farther."

Just to clarify, Francois is pronounced Fran-sWA (you'll need to remember this, he is the main antagonist here!)

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Nine'!

Bye! (No translations this time around, I know!)