The crowd yells and pushes, all gathered in the very narrow space of the empty-looking space.
"You guys, this is ridiculous. I'm not what you think I am!" Serbia yells clenching to her not tall enough seat.
"Tell me my future!" one female nation yells. "Will I ever find my true love?"
"What the situation with banking going to be like?" a male nation manages to muffle while being pushed from all sides.
"Enough of your stupid requests. Let me ask the real questions?" another domineering male voice yelled. "You there! What sport's team is gonna win the championship?"
Haiti, which is in the middle of running from someone, stops and makes his way through the crowd. "Please bless me, so I can have a good future and get these moochers off my back!" Someone grabs him, his clasp making him cry out.
"Hey, leave him alone!" she scream, grabbing the hand and pushing it away from the poor island nation.
The surrounded nation tries to make herself smaller as they become more and more aggressive. This ridiculous rumor had gotten out of hand. How could a few backhanded comments get her into this mess. And yet, they did with everyone flocking to her with their problems. They were polite at first, to her terror, their yelling turns to leaning forward and stretching out their arms. The nation screamed feelings one hand around her ankle and punched the closest person there.
"Ouch!" a male shouts, falling flat on the floor while holding his broken nose. "You broke my nose! Why?" he muffled a cry.
"You were asking for it!" she yells back, with those around her getting rowdier. The madness seems like it has no intention of stopping. Everyone is shouting and demanding, delirious in their requests.
There was a slight tremor, and the cube started to move. The shouting stopped as everyone is too stunned for words. None more that the one on it. "Don't, don't look up my dress," she mumbles, pressing her puff towards her legs, still processing the latest events.
Serbia looks down worried, as the confused faces grow smaller and smaller. There on her elevated square, she towers over everyone with nothing around her except the calm blue sky.
"Oh no. What have I gotten myself into this time?" she facepalms herself. This high up, a rescue mission is impossible to achieve. Her military could send a plane, but how would she get on it?
The distraught girl looks up at the blue sky sad. She then presses her chin on her ribcage and sighed. A strange sound caught her attention, and it was not the shouting of the people below. She looks up and is stunned by the sight. From a flaming chariot, Saint Sava looks down at her and smiles. He extends his hand to pull the struggling nation from her slab into the chariot. Seeing that their presumed oracle is being taken away, the group starts shouting again. She quickly takes his hand and lets herself be pulled inside the small chariot. The flying vessel quickly gets away from an increasingly rowdy piece of land.
"Finally, some divine intervention" she whispers relieved. The rider behind the patriarch was St. Ilija. He nods to greet Serbia and uses his rails to make his flying horses go faster.
"Hi, sorry I haven't mentioned you earlier" she says to the presumably still-living saint.
"It's alright. You had to keep some of your options under raps" the hearty smiling man replies.
Saint Sava offers a brown cover for her bare shoulders.
She takes it and apologetically covered her hair and body. "If I knew where I was going I would have dressed more appropriately."
"I understand. The instructions were a little vague."
She glances around anxious. "So, am I going to see… Is this it? What I was waiting for?" she stutters pointing up. The saints smile calmly.
She looked down at the nations that now seemed as small as ants. Despite her current joy, a part of her was sad, disappointed even.
"Is there something wrong?" the patron saint asked.
"No, it's nothing. Well, um…. Actually never mind," she says lowering her head. Nervous but happy, she holds in her breath as they fly up towards the shining clouds.
Behind them adorned with rays of light, stood a mesmerizing garden. Everything from the smallest strain of grass to the trees shined like flickering stars, making the colors mix with the unearthly glow. She timidly takes off her shoes and placed her feet on the green grass. Each step filling her with a sense of peace and tranquility. The saints bowed and quietly exit, letting her enjoy this garden in peace. She looks in awe as the owner of the garden addressed her. It was a choir of three, all speaking in individual, yet harmonious voice: "I'm happy to see you're safe. Did you have a nice trip?"
"Are you God?" she asked baffled.
The voices chuckled in unison.
"I have many names."
Serbia cannot believe it. Looking up, her expression changes from being carefree to that of worry. "Have my actions pleased you?"
God lets out a hearty laugh. "You were so amusing to watch. A true strength of character, I may say."
She puffs relieved.
"In fact…" the voices continues in a mysterious but joyful tone.
"You did such a fine job, I decided to reward you."
Serbia blinks astounded. Extending his enormous hand, she sees a bright bluish ball form in his palm. Her face lights up as she sees what he has created. A grown male figure stands up. Handsome and perfect in every way, as if sculpted by her preferences alone. The man feels himself up as if not believing he is solid. He then smiles at her, with only his respect for his maker stopping his from running into her embrace.
"Who is this?" she manages to upper, clutching to her cover.
"Why Republica Srpska, of course" God says happy. "And you, quit standing there like a log. Go and meet the girl."
The young man smiles, almost jumping out of his palm. He hugs her beaming with glee. "Finally" he utters.
Serbia smiles, "I'd say. It took a while but, by what you got, it was worth the wait."
"It pleases you?" he utters.
"Hell yeah. Oops" she glances apologetically at the man in the gold throne. He chuckles making the Heavens shake a little. "Don't mind me" the choir adds jokingly.
Republica Srpska takes her hand and puts it on his chest. "Do you accept me?" he asks, slightly insecure.
The girl smiles taking his hand. Their fingers interlock with their palms touching. "Yes" she utters happy.
"Then it is settled" the voices replied in unison. "Go now you. You have my blessing."
While Srpska jumps happy, Serbia is a little reluctant. With an insecure tremble, she turns to God.
"Speak, child."
"You are so powerful and yet people forget you are there. Doubt you even existed. Wouldn't it be better if you showed yourself... you know, make your presence known?"
God sighs in threes, making the entire Heaven vibrate. "I'll see what I can do. Now go and enjoy your reward.
The young man came over to take her hand. She lowered her head as he watched her with a reassuring smile.
The couple leaves the throne room. Running around the garden, they giggle and cuddle, enjoying what is to be the beginning of an everlasting bond.
The garden is left peaceful when a demon appears. Hiding behind the cloud he tries to stop the two but is swatted like a fly by the invisible force.
An unspecified time later, the two embraced love birds watched the earth bellow. Cozy on the cloud on the last level of the Heavenly plain, they looked at each other with a heavy heart.
"So I guess this is it," Srpska says.
"I guess so," was her somber replies.
The boy inhales and stretches his arms. "Well, no point in staying here any longer."
Serbia lowers her head uncertain. In all honesty, she does not want to leave. Something that is obvious to anyone who glanced.
Srpska let out a deep sigh. He gently pulled her chin towards him and said. "I know how you feel. But we have a job to do. Remember?"
She nodded, in a politely fake way. There was nothing she wanted to say at the moment.
He took her hand and lead her towards the surface. The couple jumped safely on their feet. She in her heels and he in his outdated shoes. Then they faced each other, gazing into each others eyes.
Her mouth ajars before she shut it tight.
"What's wrong?" he askes.
"I want to kiss you so badly but I'm afraid that…" she gulped. "That you might…"
He smiles calmly. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."
"But what about your body?"
"Hey," he interrupted, putting his finger on her lips. "If that means being by your side. It is a risk I am willing to take."
She presses her lips trying to hold back her tears.
"Hey" he says softly. "I'll always be there. Always."
"You promise?"
"Yes" he blurts with not a hint of uncertainty.
Her lips widened into a smile as her eyes filled with tears. "Alright then."
Holding hands, they kiss slowly. With nothing happening, they embrace with her squeezing him tight.
"Did you feel something?" she asks with her eyes nervously shut.
He moved away, touched his chest, and checks his body. "No."
"Something's different," she frowned, pondering. "I haven't absorbed you… Is it possible?"
Her lips subconsciously widen in delighted shock.
"Yep, it seems you're stuck with me for a while," Srpska chuckles.
She squeezes him tight and they both start laughing.
Niš and the assistant Mara are further away, with the human being more panicky than usual. "It's been a while since anyone saw Ms. Serbia. I wonder what happened to here?" she says
"You never know with these things. Being swooped up to the sky is risky business," Niš replies.
"Oh no. Am I out of a job? Do I have to find a new carrier? What am I going to do with all these secrets I learned?" Mara squeaks, making her hair a mess.
"I really don't know what to tell you. I guess you could send your resume around-" the city states as the assistant grabs her by the shoulders.
"The Atlantis was real. Its remains can be found close to the Azores Islands!" she screams, making her companion extremely uncomfortable. Luckily for the city, two figures emerge on the plain field.
"Look! Over there!" Niš yells.
The assistant turns her head. Relived and delighted, she swiftly lets go. Serbia and Srpska join them soon, telling them all about their grand adventure.
"What now?" they comment. The answer does not take long. The very next day, a large tavern opens up in the place where they stood.
Filled to the brim with happy customers, dancing to fast-pace music and drinking their worries away, Srpska is at the bar pouring drinks with great acrobatic skill. "Hey, hey. Come one come all. Stay here and enjoy the show," he yelled with glee, preparing another glass by bouncing it from his elbow. Grabbing it with the same hand, he raised the cocktail shaker high so that is would fall in a spectacular fashion. Then he quickly took another shaking it on the left and on the right, before cracking it like an egg with one hand to pour another glass.
Serbia emerges from the kitchen with a large tray of some delicious food and a white hairnet over her hair. "Order for table 7." She rings the bell for the waiter.
Even her brother Montenegro is there, working as a bouncer with his fancy sunglasses. As is the assistant and cities, enjoying and working respectively. Why all their friends are here, either as customers or staff.
The two happy owners look at each other and smile. The camera zooms out as the good times continues.