Hetalia - The Cold of War
Chapter 28! Woohoo, time for more answers and plot advancement!
Question Time!
SecretParadox Hatsuki asks: How can Haldis enter Earth? Aren't the gates of Heaven and Hell closed?
Yes, the gates are very much sealed shut. No Angel or Fallen Angel can physically get into Earth. However that is not to say there aren't other ways to interacting with the Earthly realm. Haldis has showed one way, through the use of a contract with Ivan (you are almost dead on for his desperate reasoning for doing so). In one of the upcoming arcs, we'll see other ways which the heaven and hell beings make their presence.
Chiisaioni asks: Are the Emperor's powers his own or did he acquire them through his contract?
The Emperor doesn't have any supernatural powers of his own, but through the use of the contract, Haldis was able to give him a certain ice demon that he would be able to summon in battle. Ivan holds strategic value to Haldis, for without, Haldis would not have a connection to Earth.
Alright and that's all for questions, now let's go onto the chapter!
Enjoy!
The Nordic Kingdom, The Palace, Allistor Kirkland's Chamber
Allistor threw open the chamber door, and stormed into his dimly lit room. The nippy room was a mess and inside, a little northern maid that had been picking up his discarded pieces of clothing gave a high squeak that Allistor's unexpected entrance. The Scot regarded her irritably, unable to conjure up any patience in his foul mood that the topic discussed in the dungeon had brought.
"Why are you here?" Allistor demanded as he strode across the room to his triangular window, kicking away anything that lay in his warpath. The petite maid gave a hiccup of nerves and timidly held up the crumpled shirt she had picked off the floor.
"Um, uh- I, I was ordered, to um, clean up in, here…" She stammered with downcast doe eyes, her white gloved hands held together in front of her apron as she bowed. Allistor tusked and turned his head to look at his view of the snow topped turrets.
"Well, y'ar services are no longer required. Leave" Allistor rudely dismissed with a flippant wave of his hand, feeling a slight pinch of regret when the maid gave another squeak of fright. Giving another quick bow, she dashed for the door and pulled it closed behind her; her dainty footsteps didn't slow down as she ran down the hallway. Allistor groaned as he ran a hand down his rough face, the regret became stronger. He knew he shouldn't of been that rude to a lady, the old man haven't taught him that. It had been Vladimir's story about that Fallen angel. To learn that he was the puppet master behind everything that had happened, it was almost too daunting to comprehend. Vladimir had said that the angel also had Dylan and Seamus, or at least their bodies, and had 'crystallised' them? The mere idea seemed farfetched at best, and so Allistor was reluctant to take Vladimir's delirious word on the matter. He'd wait for more solid evidence before even considering any idea of rescue.
With a sigh, Allistor moved to his overcrowded desk and grabbed a piece of lime green chalk laying on it. With a sweeping arm, he scattered the rest of the desk objects clattering onto the floor and began to draw out a summoning magic circle; Arthur's magical branding sigil at it's centre. The summoning spell was universally helpful for retrieving lost items, with anything that bore the summoner's sigil would gradually materialise at the centre of the circle. As soon as he had finished and fuelled the spell with his mana, Allistor slumped down on his bed as the green firefly-like magic particles rose from the circle and got to work.
As he fell back against his fur covers, Allistor remembered the night Arthur had stopped and he ran his fingers through the soft strands, before twisting them into a tight grip. His heart hurt, the memory painful to remember. With a frustrated noise, Allistor kicked off his boots and rolled over in his cot. The sudden urge to sleep lulled him as he shuffled and shifted a couple of times of get comfortable, before he closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply. Within seconds Allistor sank into his mindscape, and was immediately thrown into a vision at a speed too swift to be natural.
Allistor Kirkland's Mindscape, The Elder Grove, ?
The upper regions of the Elder Grove were naturally beautiful even in the winter. The towering dark green pines were iced with white puffs and more of the stuff blanketed the ground. All of the Isle's woodland animals were in deep hibernation far underground while the air above was still and clean. Silence would of reigned if not for the soft crunching of snow against heavy snow boots and paws. A wintry clothed man carried an unconscious figure slumped on his back as he walked on through the forrest. He had a wild warrior look about him, with a long mane of fiery copper that had been barely tamed into a ponytail and hardened survivalist eyes of greek fire; lapis celtic tattoos covered his thick forearms and broad chest under his leather armour and basil green cloak.
Beside him padded a magnificent griffin, it's upper half that of a noble bald eagle and it's lower a golden lion. The man and beast walked together quietly along the border of a hushed lake, enjoying the scenery as they walked to their intended destination. The griffin swung it's massive head to look at the sleeper on his companion's back, oddly the green cloak and matching gauntlets he had been wearing gone.
The young one they had rescued from the human airship was lost inside a drugged slumber. The angel hybrid's face was relaxed as he breathed evenly and the griffin knew that no physical force would be enough to wake him. It was troubling, for the half angel gave off a unrestrained blazing bonfire of an aura. As they walked, the griffin knew that every creature even remotely sensitive to the supernatural had it's eyes or mind on the youth they guarded. The griffin looked closely at the youth's short choppy golden locks and his trailing cotton white wings. A glint of fondness gleamed in the creature's marigold irises as he focused on his serene face.
"He looks like just her… Pity he inherited the eyebrows though" The griffin commented inside his companion's mind, mentally chuckling when he felt a spark of hurt at the sensitive mention of the facial feature on the other end.
"Oi, leave him be Grif. He's got enough on his plate as it is without ya badgerin' him" The man huffed and hoisted the dreamer's frame up higher, the blonde's head bounced at the movement. Over by edge of the lake they walked by, a bubble disturbed the water's tranquil surface and sent out ripple of unsettling waves. The griffin turned it's vision to the lake and narrowed it's predator eyes.
"You are aware that they've been following us since you landed with the boy?" Grif informed as they continued to stroll. A smile curled onto the man's lips and he looked to his old friend.
"Aye. I've been wonderin' if they'd hav' tha courage ta do so"
"Do you want me to take care of them?"
"No, I'll listen ta what they hav' ta say. They are more wary of I, then I am of them" The man airily returned as he also looked to the lake, tightening his grip on the lad when he saw five heads emerge close to bank. It was a band of Merfolk, consisting of three female huntresses and two aquatic people were dressed in their traditional hunting garb of bone jewellery and their darkened lips were pulled back slightly to reveal their pointed teeth. One particular merman swum to the front of their line and rose himself higher out of the water. He raised a deeply tanned arm in welcome but his berry red eyes were guarded.
"Haul! Gisil Kirkland, Almighty Vanquisher of the High Witch Queen Morgana the Malignant" The merman called out in greeting, his fellows stirred nervously and their slitted eyes watched the sorcerer and griffin alertly. Gisil smiled in amusement at the merman's direct approach, wondering if they knew they were not as undetectable as they thought. He mirrored the greeting gesture.
"Haul! Prince Allen Dorian, second born of His Majesty, King Neptune of Atlantis. Of what news and purpose are ye here by?". The prince of the merfolk, Allen Dorian, gulped as he meet the intimating gaze of the man who even his father was cautious not to offend.
"The competition for my King father's favour still continues, with myself and my brothers all competing to bring him the rarest gift. The contest has escalated, only last new moon did one of my brothers present him the pelt of a Basilisk. I must find something unparalleled if I am to secure my future throne…Which is what brings me here, the Angel of Gaia on your back. Should I present such a legendary creature before my father, I will most certainly be chosen as the next King" Allen explained, his eyes held a hunger as they slid onto Arthur.
"Y'ar enthusiasm is admirable, young prince. Yet I regret ta inform ya that laddie here is under ma personal protection, an' I hav' no obligation ta negotiation" Gisil announced with a tangible threat in his tone. Over in the water, the merfolk murmured secretively among each other. One of the mermaids with silver hair slid closer to the prince and leaned in to whisper in his pointed ear.
"My Prince, he is but one man, burdened and weighed down by the Angel. Give the order and we shall retrieve your prize" She quietly slithered in their home language, the prince's guard nodded in agreement at her bold invasive suggestion. Allen's eyes remained fixed on the sorcerer as he privately answered with lips that barely moved.
"No. We retreat for now. It is a death wish to cross the man who has stayed beings more powerful than we. We will take the Angel when he isn't protected as well," Allen whispered to his huntress before he raised his voice to readdress Gisil, "I do not need a seer to predict the outcome of a battle between us, sorcerer. I will withdraw for now, and pray the next time we meet, it will be in lighter air".
With that, the prince of Atlantis sank down below the chilled lake's surface; his guard followed swiftly behind with eyes of poison. Gisil waited until he felt their presence completely vanish before he turned back to Grif with a confident smirk, "Told ya they'd be wet behind tha ears". The griffin rolled his great eyeballs as resumed their steady pace through the thick forrest. They walked and walked on no path until they reached the invisible boundary that marked the beginning of the oldest part of the Elder Grove. The oldest part, or the 'Deep Grove', was the residential home of Fae and was ruled by King Oberon of Fae and his Queen Titania. Their fantastical kingdom was hidden from the outside world by wards of repelling and masking, though such wards made no difference to Gisil Kirkland as he by passed the enchantments; his magic was much too strong to be stopped by the quaint spells. The sorcerer and company crossed over into the Fae Kingdom of Avalon and took a moment to behold the sight before them.
The woodland sloped into gentle low valleys of white with the trees of the Grove thinning to reveal the majestic buildings built in the style of elven architecture. The columned halls were open to wintry weather and constructed of chiselled stone and birch wood. Bubbling streams ran under low footpath bridges and little lit lanterns of yellow protected the interiors from the cold. Gisil closed his eyes and took in a deep inhale, and when he opened them again, the King of Fae was in front of him. The King was of a slender build, clothed in robes of pearl and a silver diadem of leaves rested upon his temples. He had an angular face that possessed a air of alien beauty, with irises that were the colour of starlight blue and wispy sheer sheets of white gold fell past his shoulders. His expression was initially hard until he recognised who had passed onto his bounders, his hand relaxed from it's grip on his sword.
"Gisil Kirkland, and here I had seen the last of you" The King sighed and raised his hand in a halting, the swarm of firefly lights that had tore up after their King paused at his shoulder. Gisil smiled his relief that the King had remembered him, his biggest worry had been that he would of forgotten and refused them entry. The number of safe locations he could hide Arthur were so few already.
"Greetings, King Oberon of the Fae. The last time we met had been under the last solar eclipse, two hundred and fifty years ago methinks" He called out in response, tensing slightly when the King's eyes moved to focus on Arthur and narrowed on his wings.
"What have you brought into my land, Kirkland?" The King cautioned, his voice hostile and the swarm of fae guard became to buzz in response to the King's mood. Beside him, Grif ruffled his wings out to ready them if flight was needed to pull the Angel out of the cross fire. Gisil unhooked one his arms from holding up his son and held it out to the King in an expression of peace.
"Peace. He is my son, Arthur, and is of Angel blood. I brought him here to ask for help. He has been cast into a slumber that I fear I cannot shake off alone". The King's brows uncreased and curiously motioned for Gisil to come closer. As Gisil walked, inside his mind Grif spoke.
"Can I trust you to keep yourself out of trouble? I fear that the gate has been left unchecked for too long already"
"Aye, return. I'll be able ta handle things here" Gisil telepathically replied and heard the breezy swoosh that told him Grif had taken off. As he came to a stop beside the King, the latter peered closely at the limp Arthur and his expression softened as he surveyed the sleeping face; smiling lightly at how human the angel looked. He brushed aside Arthur's blonde bangs and rested the back of his willowy hand against the pale forehead.
The King nodded, "I see. He is indeed within a deep sleep. You were right to seek me out. This will not be broken easily". Gisil bowed his head gratefully at the silent invitation and followed the Fae King as the royal began to walk down to his small Kingdom. The tiny fairies that had swarmed to their King's side now danced closer to Arthur; the spritely ladies giggled as they braided his golden strands into plaits and poked at his cheeks.
The Elder Grove, The Deep Grove, The Royal Lake House
Away from the bustle of the kingdom, Gisil Kirkland ducked low under the short rounded doorway and stepped into the royal lake house the King had led him to. It was a cosy place, with the main room largely round in structure with wooden support beams that held up the carved dome ceiling. The walls were mosaically tiled and shelves of ingredients and dried herbs hung from the walls; two mystery doors were to the left of a raised fire hearth on the oppose wall. There was a workbench and cauldron at the centre of room and out over the misty lake, a wide wooden dock-porch stretched out. A small youngling fairy boy was knelt down scrubbing the floor as they entered and he jumped up nervously to bow to his King.
"Bring forth us drink, dining furniture and comfortable bedding for our young friend here. Set it down by the lake, and make sure it's large enough for his wings to fit alongside him" The King commanded and the boy servant immediately shrank into his sprite form and flew out to acquire the items his King desired. Not even moments later, fairies in their human form came dashing in with the requested furniture. They set down a wide circular cushioned cot on the dock-porch where the King had directed and the table and chairs faced out to the lake; a spread of fruit, cheese and bread was laid across the table with a set of crystal glasses and a bottle of vintage berry wine.
Gisil patiently waited until the servants had cleared out before he paced over to the cot and carefully laid Arthur down on his stomach, head resting on his arms and wings loosely sheltering him like a blanket. The air that ran across the clear cold lake was crisp and refreshing, it's magic tinged breeze soul cleansing.
Gisil stayed knelt for a minute and affectionately ran a hand through Arthur's hair, listening to his steady breathing. Pity stabbed at Gisil as he looked down his defenceless boy. Life had too cruel to him. "Poor Artie" Gisil sighed to himself as he took his hand back and turned to accept the extended filled glass from the Fae King. He swished the wine before he took a long drink, and immediately held it out to have it filled again. The King's dark slick eyebrows rose a fraction before he poured.
"You are welcome to stay here with your blood as long as you need to. You are our guest and of course will have your privacy. Though there is one in my Kingdom that I cannot securely account for," The King warned with a darkened gaze as he looked between Gisil and Arthur, "my Queen, Titania"
"An' why should I be worried?" Gisil scoffed as he raised the glass to his lips and took the next drink more slowly; the dark red water soaked into his upper bearded lip. The King let out a deep sigh and his old age could be briefly glimpsed across his flawless face.
"She desires a child, but is unable to conceive her own" The King sadly revealed with forlorn. Gisil actually laughed, but stopped when he saw that the King was serious.
"Ya think she'll actually try an' take Artie from me?"
"Do not underestimate the maternal instinct, Gisil. She is desperate for what she can never have. Titania can be cunning when she wants to be, and relentless at the worst of times. It would be wise not to leave your son unguarded for any given moment" The King warned with enough force behind his words that Gisil felt his lingering good mood leave him. He nodded.
"I understand…Thank you Your Majesty, for taking us in an' tha help y'ar providin'". The King bowed his head and set his glass down on the tabletop before he elegantly glided to the door.
"Without you, Gisil, and your family's assistance, my kingdom would of fallen during the Great Witch War. For this we are eternally grateful for. So please, take all the time you need. Use this time to recover your strength. In the morning I will have breakfast brought down for you both, along with some books that I believe will be helpful to you". The door softly closed as the King vanished, leaving Gisil and Arthur alone. There was an element of stillness before Gisil inhaled and let out a heavy breath. He swiftly unclasped his cloak and gear, setting the items down on the middle workbench so that he was left in his snow boots, sheep skin leggings, baggy shirt and leather jerkin. He rolled back his muscular shoulders before he stepped outside, muttering under his breath spells of detection and protection as he bordered the lake house with defences.
Once he was positive there were no holes in his warding, Gisil realised that the moon had already risen when he tramped back inside. He breezed past the fire hearth, igniting the logs with a snap of his fingers, and marched past the merrily blazing flame into the first door. The door opened to a quaint bedroom with a plain mattress and bedding, in the corner was a massive rectangular wardrobe with intricate carvings. Gisil beelined for the bed and gripped the bedding and pillows to drag them into the central room, setting down the sheets in front of the fire hearth. He straightened up and groaned when his back grew out a soft pop. Gods, he was getting old.
He went over and began to eat at the food left on the table, picking particularly at the fine cheese and fresh bread loaf. With his rumbling belly full, Gisil snatched up the wine bottle and collapsed onto his warmed bedding. The fire flickered and cracked as he swung at the bottle and chugged down it's alcoholic contents. He finished with a gasp for air and half set down, half dropped the bottle by his side, before he propped himself up against the raised hearth; the position deliberate so that Arthur was in sight. Gisil blenched as he set his head back, closed his tired eyes before he spoke in a smug dozed voice.
"Alright laddie. Ya know where he is, come an' get him"
The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, Allistor Kirkland's Chamber.
Allistor snapped up in his bedroom, heaving for air as he sat hunched over to regain his breath with his mind running a mile a minute. Arthur wasn't in the Capital, his Name was safe. Allistor touched his hammering heart and willed it to slow so that he could think clearly. Arthur was safe. Arthur was in the Fae Kingdom, in some kind of coma that he couldn't wake from, with the old man no less! The old man who had knew that Allistor was scrying him, albeit it was unintentional, and had even invited him to retrieve Arthur.
"That cocky bastard" Allistor growled as he rose off his bed and fumbled for clothes; over on his desk he saw that Arthur's cloak, hidden-blade gauntlets and his magic book and it's harness had successfully materialised. Despite the sharp awakening Allistor felt revitalised, he had a lead to his goal. Arthur was in the Deep Grove, and yet, there was no physical way to get there. Walking in like the old man had was not an option. Allistor wasn't as confident about his magic capacity as Gisil had been. No, there was something else. Something the old man had intentionally showed him.
Allistor sat down crosslegged on the flagstone floor and closed his eyes to mediate on the vision. Keeping his mind empty, he slowly replayed the sequence. Nothing incredible stuck out to him, until he came to the part where Gisil had gone into the little bedroom. Allistor watched and slowed the replay down as he felt his mind being steadily drawn to something else in the room. His gaze moved away from Gisil to the corner of the room where the large wardrobe stood. Allistor examined it closely to memorise the craving of leaves and trees, his eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw that there was rune scratches in-between them. Runes of connection and binding, the realisation that came to Allistor clicked together: the wardrobe was one of a pair.
Allistor opened his eyes and his pupils and mind snapped into focus. The wardrobes were his portal into the Fae Kingdom. All he had to find the other one.
Answers! Questions! Onward Allistor, to adventure! Gosh I love world building so much. So firstly we learn that the shadowy figure that rescued Arthur was indeed Gisil, hats off to all who guessed right. Second, we are given more in depth information about Allen, prince of Atlantis and the reasoning behind wanting to kidnap our favourite Brit. And finally, we are introduced to the Kingdom of the Fae and it's ruler, alongside a snapshot of a history lesson and a warning about future conflict. All in all, a productive chapter if I do say so myself.
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this series and wish to see more, please consider leaving a review to tell me about your thoughts, opinions and questions about my work. Below I have a included a short story that tells of the events of the Great Witch War referenced in this chapter for anyone who wants more context :) Once again thank you for reading, and as always,
Until next time folks!
Short Background Story: Hetalia - The Great Witch War
The Great Witch War is an event in the story timeline that takes place before Arthur's birth and the murder of the late King Jean Epine. It was a massive war between the witches and the other supernatural races, hidden away from human eyes. A secret war between witches and all other supernatural creatures that was battled away from the eyes of humans.
The war began when all the separate witch clans dotted about the Isles united under a powerful malevolent Witch Queen named Morgana. The witches, amazed by her strength, had raised her to 'High Witch Queen' and Morgana began her conquest against the other magical kingdoms that opposed her absolute view: that witches were the rightful inheritors of Earth; having the supposed 'strongest' magic. Avalon were the first to display open resistance and so were the first to be laid under siege, the Merfolk unable to rally to their allies side as their own watery home was dually under attack. It was a pressing time, no other race willing to step up in fear of focusing Morgana's wrath onto themselves. Finally, unable to continue witnessing, the Sorcerer's community gathered and declared that they would give aid to the Fae and Mer Kingdoms. Whose sorcerers who were skilled in combat went to battle, their numbers divided between defending Atlantis and Avalon.
Arthur and Allistor's grandfather, Iain Kirkland with his sons, Gisil and Ellair as masterful hunters rose up among the sorcerer warriors and led their army at the Battle of Dead man's Canyon. Amongst the blood and chaos, Morgana herself entered the fray, determined to end the bloodline that had thwarted her efforts at domination. Iain, Gisil and Ellair met her on the battlefield and engaged in a fearsome duel with her. Though as powerful as they were, the Kirklands knew to kill a Witch Queen was no easy task. They fought with valour, but all seemed lost when Morgana landed a mortal wound on Iain, and turned on the two brothers ready to spring them from their mortal coil.
With his heart failing him, Iain reared up behind Morgana and tackled her to pin her down, bellowing at his sons to finish her. Gisil had ran forward, scooping up a fallen broadsword and leaped high to behead the Witch Queen. Morgana went berserk and clawed Iain off her, delivering the fatal blow and Iain Kirkland fell dead to the ground; his blood soaking into the thick churning mud. She spun ready for Gisil with nails of daggers when Ellair threw himself forward before the blow to save his younger brother. Morgana's hand speared through Ellair's heart, killing him instantly. Gisil Kirkland screamed in blind grief and rage as his brother dropped dead. He swung his blade down and before she had even had time to curse, freed Morgana the Malignant's head clean from her shoulders. The dark head had fell, bounced and rolled, the eyes still open wide with horror and pooling black blood poured from the gaping mouth.
There was silence across the field as the witches realised their High Queen had been vanquished, before their howls resumed as the sorcerers rushed forward and swiped out the last of them. No prisoners of war were taken. Gisil had fallen to his knees and bitterly wept for his slaughtered kin long after the battle was over; only stirring when his fellow sorcerers came to take the bodies. Iain and Ellair were given the noblest send off, their funeral boats pushed out across water and countless flaming arrows had rained down upon them; Gisil had traditionally shot the first, his three sons and fatherless nephew by his side. The blazing boats were drifted to the water's end, before they had tipped over the Isle's edge and fell down into the bottomless space below.
The Kirkland name became legendary that day, revered and respected by all creatures. The name was whispered, their stories awed at around late campfires. Gisil continued to hunt the dark and teach his blood the ways of a hunter, seemingly to drift through life when only a decade later, he chanced upon an Angel beneath a willow tree...
To be continued?