[APH fic] Freedom Falling
Hmmm I should really be doing homework.... but I really wanted to try out LJ for once so I'm posting this little story I came up with a long time ago... I'll post more when I get used to using LJ!
Title: Freedom Falling
Author: British_Ninja
Word Count: 2, 250
Characters: Tween!America, Tween!Canada, France and Teen!Arthur
Pairing(s): Only vaguely USUK for now (will be USUK in the future though)
Chapter(s): 1/?
Summary: Magic is a dying art in the world of Kyri. When America meets an elusive mage who simply calls himself “Arthur”. He soon discovers an old and ongoing plot to capture the “Change Sphere of England”, whatever that meant.
Chapter 1: The Cousins
“Mon dieu! What do we have here?” France Bonnefoy gasped, taking in the saddening sight in front of him. He lowered his glowing white bow as he looked down at the sprawled out body of a woman. Judging by the huge amounts of blood pooling out from the injuries she sustained, she was already dead. France stowed his bow and lifted his hands in prayer for the woman’s death. His little pet rabbit stood by his side, wrinkling its nose at the stench of the corpse.
After a few minutes, France turned to his little rabbit friend, “allons-y, Jeanne, we shouldn’t stay here.” The archer turned to walk away when he heard a sound, a small sound calling from behind him. He whirled around, tensed and raised his bow, causing it to glow white again. His blue eyes scanned the woods quickly and sharply before he finally looked down and the blond stepped back with shock.
Two pairs of childlike eyes peeked out from the folds of the woman’s robes, staring up at France.
“Canada! Canada! France! Come look at what I found!” The voice of eleven-year-old America rang out among the grassy plains and small bushes.
“What? Where are you America?” Canada asked, scrambling to find his cousin among the plants. France, being taller, looked through the bushes, spotting America crouching at a particularly small bush “He’s over there Canada,” he pointed out for the little nine-year-old to follow.
Canada Jones and his older cousin America Jones are two little orphans whom France found five-years ago underneath America’s mother’s robes, most likely they were hidden from whomever had killed the woman. France fished them both out and decided to adopt them, knowing how dangerous the world is for two defenceless trainees. Despite he himself being only seventeen at the time, France was amazing in his job class and managed to take care of himself, America and Canada, quickly advancing in his class, and on his way to becoming a top ranked archer. It amazed France how similar looking Canada and America were: they had the same blond hair and blue eyes (although Canada’s had hints of violet sometimes) but the differences were also noticeable, America had a defiant piece of blond hair that wouldn’t go down no matter how much France pushed it and Canada’s blond hair was longer and he also had a defiant piece of hair that curled adorably.
Both France and Canada joined America who had his head inside a bush. “Mon cher, what did you find?” France asked.
“This small swirly looking thing!” America proclaimed proudly. France smiled fondly at America and was about to take a look at it himself when he realized the time on the pocket watch hanging inside his dark blue robe. “Oh! Je suis desole Amerique but I have to go make dinner. I will look at it with you after oui?”
“Oh, fine.” America pouted, his hunger overpowering his want for France to see the cool looking swirly black thing.
“Be good you two, I shall call when dinner is ready.” France gave them both a kiss on the forehead before walking away, leaving Canada and America by themselves.
“Canada, come look at it!” America’s head went back into the bushes. Canada poked his head in as well, looking in the direction of his cousin’s hand. At the trunk of the bush was a dark looking circle; dark blue lines swirled inside it, almost like it was a moving spiral. “What is it?” Canada almost didn't dare to say anything, the swirl was slightly unnerving, it seemed like could come to life.
“I don’t know.” America shrugged, he was so curious about it. He extended his arm out to the swirl.
“No! Don’t touch it!” Canada almost screamed so suddenly that America withdrew his arm, surprised by the volume in his cousin’s normally soft voice.
“Why not?”
“What if it’s dangerous?”
“What if it’s not? Come on Canada, it’s so small!”
Canada backed away from the bush, clutching his little stuffed polar bear even harder if possible. “I think it’s magical.” He whispered, so quiet that his cousin almost didn’t catch on.
“Don’t be ridiculous” America scoffed, “why would anyone leave anything magical lying around in a bush?”
“I don’t know but I don’t think you should touch it” Canada replied.
“But heroes shouldn’t be scared of anything!” America exclaimed and with that statement, he reached out and touched the swirling object. Instantly, he felt a tugging force drawing him into the swirling object. All he could hear was his cousin’s voice screaming at him frantically before everything blurred and blacked.
The next thing America saw was a face full of green grass. He sat up, spitting the grass out of his mouth before looking at his surroundings. Everything was lush green, a richer green than the woods he, France and Canada lived out at. The trees, grass and bushes were dotted with drops of rain on the leaves. America stood as tall as he could to see where he was; it was like he was in a totally different continent, which might be very possible.
“France? Canada? Canada? CANADA!” America called out frightened by where he was now. He dropped to the floor and searched frantically for the black swirly thing, maybe it could bring him home! But just as America turned around, he caught a glimpsed of the small black swirls disappearing into thin air. He screamed, trying to grab for it but failed to reach in time before the black swirls turned into wisps.
“W-what? How come…? How did you get here!?” An unfamiliar voice screamed from behind America.
He whirled around again to find another kid who somehow appeared right behind him, pointing at him in an accusing gesture. He was about America’s height, maybe a little taller, with short blond hair and green eyes peering at him in shock. His eyebrows were shockingly thick and prominent on his small face but America didn’t care at the moment; he beamed, he was just glad to see another person.
“Yay! I thought I would be stuck here all alone!” He said, very relieved.
The other kid lowered his arm, “You-You seriously have no idea what you just did? Do you even know where you are?” He spoke in a way that was different from how America spoke, accenting certain letter sounds and stressing them. It was an accent America has never heard before but it sounded oddly refined to him.
“Well, no, I was with Canada and then I was here after I touched that small swirly black thing in the bush.” America was able to observe the other child more clearly now. Compared to America’s standard rookie outfit (black pants with a white and pale blue striped shirt, brown leather vest (he had put a nice star on his to make his look more special) and brown boots) he wore a rather more exotic outfit, showing that the kid wasn’t a rookie anymore, which surprised America. He looked pretty young to him and not much taller than he was. The kid was wearing cream coloured robes that looked silky and a little bit big for him, judging by the long sleeves and the ropes tied around his waist to hold it up. A predominant dark cape with a hood flowed from the kid’s shoulders and was fastened by a bright red string. In the light, America could tell the cape was dark brown and slightly worn down as well. The kid looked like nothing America has seen before.
“That ‘swirly black thing’ as you call it, is a portal.” The kid was talking in a ‘holier than thou’ tone, causing America to frown, slightly annoyed. “I was finally able to create one after weeks of studying my book.” Sure enough, in his left hand, he held a rather thick, old and heavy looking book. Strange symbols decorated front leather covering all over.
“So… you study magic?” America asked. That would explain the strangeness of the clothing. He knew that the Mage class was a dying class because fewer and fewer pure magic people are being born. Many classes do not use magic, which explained the small odds of magic types being born when the Mages married any of the non-magic classes. In recent years, many mages have mysteriously vanished or were found dead, causing a huge imbalance in the world and a widespread panic among the remaining mages.
“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you since you seem about the same age as me. Yes, I am a Mage, one of the few Spell-Singers left.”
“But how do you have a job class already? You have to be thirteen to get one.” America whined, wanting to be in a class already. He was hoping to get into the gunmen class, which was the best way to reach his dream job.
The Mage stared at him, “I am thirteen! Just how old are you?”
“What! How can you be thirteen already? I’m only eleven and you’re the same height as me!”
“Maybe you’re just too big for your age.” The Mage muttered and America blinked, “what?”
“Nothing, it’s none of your business.”
A sudden thought crossed America’s mind, “wait, you’re a Spell-Singer? France says they’re so rare!”
“France?” the boy asked curiously.
“Yeah he raised me and Canada.”
“I see.” America saw a strange expression cross the boy’s face when he heard France’s name but he skipped it and continued, “This is so awesome! I’m meeting a real live Spell-Singer!”
The Mage suddenly glared at America, “yes but you cannot tell anyone ok? You know what is happening to all the Mages, do not tell ANYONE about me or the location of this place!”
“It’s not as if I can, that portal went away so I can’t go back.” America would’ve cried some more but if the other boy was from around here, he can still get back with his help.
“WAIT A MINUTE! YOU WENT THROUGH THE PORTAL AND LEFT IT OPEN?” The boy screeched, “Why did you wait so long?! It will vanish if someone opens it and leaves it open for too long!”
“Geez, I didn’t know! After I went through, the next I knew, it was gone already!” America pouted, “I wanna go home! I don’t want to stay here!”
“You git! It takes a lot of magic to make a portal like that one! I was going to use it to go find some plant seeds in Kadica!”
“Why do you need a portal? Couldn’t you just walk or fly over to my place?” America asked, not seeing the point of the portal.
The other boy crossed his arms, “well, in case you haven’t noticed, this place isn’t anywhere near your homeland! This is the island of Miedii, haven’t you heard of it? Nobody lives here!”
America vaguely recalled one of France’s little explanations on the different continents in the world and he vaguely remembered one of the smaller continents being called “Miedii” and something bad had happened to it but he couldn’t recall anything.
“If nobody lives here, then how come you’re here?” He challenged. The other boy’s emerald green eyes narrowed at America and he turned away from him. “Miedii was once the centre of magic, I was born here and it was only through everyone’s help that I still live here.” He said quietly.
“Some people still come here to try to catch the last bits of magic in the air but,” here the boy’s voice turned edgy, “but there’s nothing, they obliterated it all. That is why magic is a dying art and all for what reason? Greed? Power?” His voice broke and even though he had turned away from America, America could somehow tell that the boy was close to tears.
He came up to the slightly taller boy and gave him a hug him from behind, feeling the startle from the green eyed boy, “it’s okay…” He grinned, “When I grow up, I’ll protect the magical people.”
The green eyed boy looked up, “You? You’ll protect m-I mean, us? The last few magicians?”
“Yeah! I’ll be your hero!” America exclaimed happily. The other boy snorted, “I don’t even know who you are and you’re already claiming to be my champion?”
“Call me America! America Jones, I want to be a Police Pilot when I grow up.”
“So you can swoop down and save people?” The other one said dryly, “Well, since you gave me your name, I’ll give you mine, my name is Arthur.”
“Just Arthur?” America asked curiously.
“Just Arthur,” Arthur repeated.
“Why is your name just Arthur?” America knew that when France found him and Canada, their names and last names were written inside their clothing so that’s how France knew their names and he’s never heard of anyone who didn’t have a last name. He met a few kids from the Touko continent and their names were reversed with last name first and such. He never understood why their names were like that but still, they also had two names just like him.
America saw Arthur tense up and look away, not answering America’s question. Then he looked right at America with an angry expression.
“There’s no why!” he snapped, “I’m Arthur ok? Just call me that or do you always call people by their full names?”
America stammered in surprise at Arthur’s apparent anger over the innocent question. “N-no, I don’t, I was just wondering that’s all.” Maybe Miedii was a continent that didn’t use last names? Somehow America was finding that hard to believe.
“Well don’t wonder then, it’s none of your business.”
America pouted again and neither one of them spoke for a while. A loud rumbling noise was suddenly heard and it came from America’s belly. America blushed when he realized it’s been a long time since he ate something. France must have already been finished with cooking dinner and America probably missed mealtime.
Arthur sighed, “Alright, since you’re here anyway, you’ll have to stay with me. Here, this is the only forest that still has enough fertility to grow food.”
“What’s fertility?” America asked and Arthur huffed, “it’s soil that’s soft enough to grow plants.” He answered.
“Wow Arthur, you sure know a lot!” America exclaimed, not noticing the small blush Arthur sported from the compliment.
Well, since it usually takes Arthur a month to make a portal, it looks like America will be staying with him for a little while.