Alfred F. Jones

Montreal, Quebec

October 31, 2163

I decided to find my England. MY England. He was still in Canada, and France had no Idea where he was. It occurred to me that I had even less of an idea as to where England was.

Less than none...

I walked through the freezing cold, weaving my way into the woods and then trying something that I'd never tried before. Finding something based purely on aura... England could do this, France could (sort of), Canada could do it, even China could detect Auras... The tricky part was trying to do this when I'd never thought to do so before... When you can detect auras, you barely need eyes... I closed my eyes and sighed, "I'm gonna need some help on this one..."

"Father... Hello... How are you...?" said a quiet whisper of a voice. It was most definitely a male voice but it had a sound to it that was feminine... It was like my voice only deeper and extremely quiet.

"Allan... I need your help," I said.

"You turned down our magic... Father... You said that we were heathens..."

"I was wrong-"

"You must live with the mistakes you've made. We are not you, Father... None of us care about your Darling... England... Pale face... The pale ones... they like him... we do not..."

"Allan," I paused and sighed. "I have to find him so that your dad can apologize..."

"We don't care... Daddy left us- left us- left us-"

For some reason, I could see a little child, rocking back and forth in the snow, looking away from me. It's long black corn-silk hair hung all around it, a curtain between it and the world.

"He left us... He left us- and Maman died- and Mathieu went away- and Toni abandoned us- and all the others called us big brother- and then only we could speak- and then we met Father- and we met the others- and we got scared and ran away- and Anne found us- and she loved us- then she left us-"

"Allan..." I whispered, walking towards the child, careful not to make a sound.

"He left us- he left us- he left us- he said he loved us-" The same phrase repeated, over and over. It occurred to me that I was no longer hearing his voice in my head. I was hearing a child's voice and I was ACTUALLY hearing it, rather than the voice being inside my head.

"Allan..." I said again, getting closer to the child.

"...He said he loved us... he LIED... Hate him- Hate him- Hate him- We loved him... he never loved us... he LIED... always lied... Easier to stay by ourselves... Father was the first one... We thought he loved us... He didn't, though..." It was the child. I froze when I realized that this child was referring to itself in plural.

I walked around the child and looked into it's eyes. It was so young... only 8 years old... and yet it's hair was at least 5 feet long.

"Mathieu... Maman... Sunday... Lieu-lieu... Big Brother..." The child said, its Sea green eyes glistening wetly and reflecting the snow. The child's skin was russet... very uncommon here, where the most warm sunlight was during the summer and it was snowy and overcast for the rest of the year. "Left us... Died... Abandoned us... Forgot about us... Left us behind..."

"Hey... are you okay?" I asked, hesitantly.

The child stared into my eyes, "...big brother...?"

I tried to remember who this child was... my eyes widened as I recognized his face. "...A-alta...?"

"...big brother!"

~A/N- Okay! Waste of time, yes, but I updated when I wasn't going to for a while! So we have Alta (Free Cyber-Cookie and Pairing fic for anyone who can guess what Alta represents) and We have Allan/A Native American State (Same for him)! [Welcome, 8th Hour English Students. Please review. Reviews are much appreciated. And tell me what you said at School when you next see me.]