[Hetalia Fanfic] Nobody's Hero 1/?
Title: Nobody's Hero 1/?
Author: l_shadow_bard_l
Rating: T
Genre: Angst/Adventure, Assassin AU
Characters/Pairings: America, Canada, England/Britain, Mexico, Hungary | eventual:PruCan, UkUs; etsablished: AusHun, SpaRom
Warnings: Violence/Gore (later on), Rampant OOC'ness, OCs
Plot: Sixteen year old Alfred F. Williams-Jones takes the place of his twin brother, Matthew, when he is conscripted into the infamous Shadow Guild. Matthew sets out in search of him, finding suprising allies along the way.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (As usual *sighs* but in retrospect that may be a good thing *looks at future chapters* Yup, definitely a good thing. God, I’m such a horrible person for doing this to my own country.)
Characters:
Alfred F. Williams-Jones = America (sixteen years old)
Matthew Williams-Jones = Canada (sixteen years old)
Edge = England/Britain (nineteen years old)
Crow = Mexico (twenty years old)
Arrow = Hungary (twenty-two years old)
Information (this is exclusively for geography, as the history and economic content will be explained - at some point - in the story):
Eschaelon = a continent that is shaped like a six-pointed star; it is split into six countries ruled by their perspective kings and queens called Sectors. They meet at the center around a city called Crimane that is ruled as a spate body from the Sectors and can as such claim no political alliances or favors. The environments range from the frigid arctic of the north to the sandy deserts of the south; however, despite the vast differences between cultures and ecosystems, the people of Eschaelon are united under the same common language.
Arrilenn = the northern Sector of Eschaelon contains numerous forests in the southern regions and sheer icy cliffs to the north, and the demonym is Arrilennen; currently ruled by King Aldrich Beilschmidt (Germania).
Scimine = the northwestern Sector of Eschaelon has a ragged land with a large growth of pine forests and pristine mountains with a prominent coastline, and the demonym is Sciminite; currently ruled by King Romulus Vargas (Ancient Rome).
Kaesti = the northeastern Sector of Eschaelon is known for its abundant highlands and lush deciduous forests, and the demonym is Kaestine; currently ruled by King Govert De Vries (Netherlands).
Mauven = the southwestern Sector of Eschaelon contains humid tropical forests and numerous rivers that crisscross the land, and the demonym is Mauven; currently ruled by Queen Mei Xiao (Taiwan).
Zimahay = the southeastern Sector of Eschaelon is filled with sloping hills and small isolated forests that dot its countryside, and the demonym is Zimatene; currently ruled by Queen Stephanie Grimaldo (Monaco).
Causia = the southern Sector of Eschaelon is a diverse environment that ranges from the northern semi-arid scrubland to sand-filled deserts of the deep southern regions, and the demonym is Causian; currently ruled by Queen Yael Levi (Israel).
Crimane = a large metropolis that is governed by a city council of one hundred members and is independent of the kingdoms; it is at the center of the sectors, sharing a heavily guarded border with them, and houses the infamous Shadow Guild.
CHAPTER ONE: A GAME CALLED LIFE
Matthew (Canada)
“C’mon Mattie, let’s go already!” A cheerful voice shouted to me, statement punctuated with giggles. I turned towards the voice, a smile on my face. Bright blue eyes shined in the sunlight, a larger-than-life grin mapping his face. Brownish blond hair, so similar to my own, bounced as the boy’s shoulders shook with excitement. I wanted to laugh. My brother, Alfred, was as different to me as night and day. It was hard to believe that we were twins, though I was the older by a proud two minutes. Where he was an untamable flame, warm and passionate; I was a puddle of water, lucid and calm. Where he was capricious and independent, I was loyal and reliant. Two sides of the same coin, and as such a coin: we were inseparable. Nothing could come between us.
Feeling that monumental separation between us, spanning about five yards, I looked back - more accurately pleaded - to our parents for permission to follow. My mother chuckled, clear blue eyes twinkling with a combination of laughter and exasperation at our antics, as her auburn hair bounced around her shoulders. She looked up to our father, his strong face smiling. He gave the go-ahead, wrinkles fanning out from his hazel eyes and framing his kind mouth. My grin grew in berth, beginning to bear a startling resemblance to the one my brother adorned. I took off, feet thudding lightly into the dusty ground, after my twin to close the distance between us.
He waited for me, fidgeting from side to side. When I had reached the halfway point, his impatience got the better of him. He began to run, albeit at a slower pace. Eventually I caught up to him and together we raced off towards the man-made pond, our little legs moving as fast as our six year old bodies were capable of.
Alfred being Alfred, jumped into the pool without hesitation. I rolled my eyes and as I was about to follow, something caught my eye. A log had rolled up alongside the edge of the pond’s deep banks. Curious, I leaned over to get a better look at it. There weren’t that many trees in this area, so for a log to roll up next to me had thoroughly piqued my interest. Squinting, the blurry object eventually came into view. The log was pale, not resembling any tree that I had ever seen - which admittedly wasn’t a lot.
I could hear my parent’s footsteps as they approached, but I ignored them in favor of my interesting find. Alfred, most likely put off by my inattention, swam up next to me in order to find out what had replaced him in my affections.
“Mattie,” he pouted, “c’mon already. It’s boring playing by myself…” Blue eyes wandering when I did not respond, he finally noticed the log. Irritated and curious, he boldly paddled up to the log. Unsure of what to make of the strange pale wood, he prodded it. I leaned in, nearly falling into the water in my haste, to get a better view of what he was doing. Alfred suddenly squealed, arms flailing in the water. His cry startled me and I promptly fell back onto my bottom. Scrambling to my feet at the continued sounds of distress my brother was making, I skimmed the pond’s surface searching for him. Instead of Alfred though, my eyes fixated onto another location. The log that I had spotted earlier was pale and bloated, naked under the sun’s unforgiving rays, with a familiarly-shaped face. Unseeing green eyes stared at the sky, mouth open in a stiff grimace. Strange puss-filled legions marred the log’s face and bare chest. This was no log. It was a person, a human being.
I screamed. Our father, hearing both my brother and mine’s shouts, dashed from our mother’s side into the water. My brother was still flailing in the water, though visibly struggling, when our father reached him. He grabbed Alfred with his strong right arm, ignoring the nasty water that entered his mouth and the body that continued to float by the shore unaware of the chaos it caused. My shoulders were being shaken roughly. I looked up to see our mother’s face just in time for her to wrap her arms around me in a tight embrace, tactically maneuvering my vision away from the corpse.
Father made it to shore, carrying a largely unresponsive Alfred. I was suddenly released as mother flung herself from me towards my brother who was on the now-moistened dirt floor. She lowered her head onto his chest while raising her hand in front of Alfred’s mouth. Our father gathered me in his arms as mother then proceeded to beat on my brother’s chest and force air through his blue-tinged lips. I felt numb. This was all happening to fast. I couldn’t breathe. Everything was closing in on me, a weight crushing me into nothing…
I gasped. A large heavy dead-weight was crushing me. Struggling, I pushed on the force, muscles bulging with the effort. After several seconds with little to no results, the weight finally shifted and was clumsily deposited to the side of me. Gasping for air, I glared at the ignorant mass that occupied a large portion of the bed. Damn it, Alfred, would it kill you to stay on your own side of the bed for a change. I fumed angrily, thoughts stewing in irritation. I just wanted to sleep one night, just one night, without any interruptions. Just to spite me, the sun splashed across my eyes with a burning fury known only to those who have experienced such things. I groaned in frustration. It was just going to be one of those days. Life truly seemed to hate me.
Shooting one last glare at the lump known as Alfred, I sat up. The bright light diminished thankfully, instead torturing the mattress with its presence in place of my eyes. Rubbing my eyes, I stood, naked feet curling uncomfortably on the cold bare floor. That dream had haunted me for the past several nights, giving me neither relief nor respite. The dream was always the same, deceiving me with an innocent façade before fading to the gruesome reality. As much as I wished to write it off as a bad dream, I knew better. It was not a dream. It was a memory.
I sighed, glancing at my brother once more. I hated that dream, but… I would be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy seeing one of my brother’s sincere smiles. Man, how I missed those smiles. Not that Alfred didn’t smile now - goodness knows, he smiled far more often than necessary. It just didn’t have the same innocent quality to it that it once did, the same value that it contained in my memory. It’s been ten years since I last saw that smile. Ten years that felt like a lifetime ago. Now, Alfred smiled only to fulfill a purpose, to get a desired response from the subject of his focus. He didn’t smile just for the joy of smiling anymore. Such things were viewed as meaningless trifles to the present Alfred F. Williams-Jones.
I preferred the Alfred who slept before my eyes; face unperturbed by current circumstances and burdens. His mouth hung open with a thin line of drool trailing down his jaw, the corners of his lips upturned slightly. Eyes closed in sheer bliss, eyebrows smooth. These were the only times that I was permitted to see the glimpse of the Alfred I loved. The brother I still love. My mouth dropped into a frown. I loathed the mask that he wore: the fake Alfred that dared to wear the face of my twin. He attempted to keep me unaware of his ruse. He believed that he had succeeded in pulling the wool over my eyes. He believed wrong.
I was fully aware that, in his own way, my brother was trying to protect me. He wanted to continue being the shield that had always protected me when we were younger. Alfred didn’t - or want to, for that matter - realize that I didn’t need the shield anymore. It shamed me that I ever needed it to begin with. While I blamed my brother’s protectiveness and stupidity for the creation of such façade, deep down I knew that it was my fault. However, the mistake was made; now I just wanted my brother back. If only I had been stronger…
Shaking my head roughly to rid myself of such thoughts, I grabbed my brother’s shoulder. “Hey, Al,” I said groggily, “c’mon, we gotta get going or were going to be late.” My brother’s response was to roll over, snuggling into the warm place that I had previously occupied not even twenty seconds past. A louder snore proceeded to punctuate the still morning air. Rolling my eyes, I continued to shake his shoulder.
“Just five more minutes, Mattie…” Alfred mumbled, surprisingly coherent for a change.
I raised an eyebrow. Alfred was cocooned in the sheets - sheets that he had undoubtedly hogged all night - and completely vulnerable. A smirk enveloped my lips as an idea sprang to mind. I wasn’t in a good enough mood to deal with my brother’s tomfoolery this morning. Removing my hand from his shoulder, I reached down and grabbed the blanket firmly with both hands. Positioning myself just right, I gave a hard tug on the blanket. As predicted, Alfred tumbled to the floor face-up. He blinked wide sky-blue eyes rapidly, enlarged pupils darting from side to side before zoning in on me. Resisting the urge to laugh, I stated: “If I don’t get to sleep in, then neither do you.”
Alfred, shocked into a reluctant wakefulness, pouted at me. “Aw,” he whined, “but Mattie-”
“No buts, Al.”
I hid a smile as he sighed in defeat. Even though I knew he was probably just faking it, it was these times of normalcy that made life worth living sometimes. Though I couldn’t help but feel irritated too. A part of me struggled not to grin; a part of me struggled not to box him over his ears; and the last part wanted to hit me too. After all, it was embarrassing - no, downright wrong, that I couldn’t read my brother’s emotions. I knew he was acting, but I couldn’t consistently discern when he was acting. Though, Alfred wasn’t much better in that perspective either. He didn’t know that I saw through his mask. Alfred, the teen who could perfectly read a stranger’s motives as easily as breathing, couldn’t even read his own twin.
My musings were interrupted when Alfred finally levered himself off the floor. “Fine,” he muttered sourly, “but that means you’re making breakfast today.” I opened my mouth to protest this since I was the one who made breakfast yesterday, but he was already out the door, barely pausing to grab the clothes I left out for him. Yup, today was going to be another one of those days. Defeated, I walked the whole twelve feet to the other side of our one-room dwelling towards the poor excuse of a kitchen, dodging the ancient pieces of furniture that littered the floor. My brother could be such a pain sometimes.
******Nobody’s Hero******
Alfred (United States)
As soon as I walked out the door, my fixed smile faded slightly. The dry arid heat was already at full power, even though the sun had risen only an hour before. I reveled in it. While my twin was more acclimated to the colder climates, I thrived in areas with high temperatures and little rainfall. Eventually I’d get him out of here and move up north, Arrilenn perhaps. Yeah, he’d like that. I’d miss this place, but it’d be worth it in the end.
Anything to keep Mattie happy.
I spared one last glance back at the house, taking in its decrepit appearance, as I lazily pulled on my boots. The faded white-washed walls, the cracked shutters, the hole in the screen door; it was crappy as hell, but it was still home. The growing city of Hempsten in the Causian Sector may not be all it was cracked up to be, but it was still better than nothing. Better than where we’d been anyway. My lips upturning slightly, I turned around and continued on the half mile trek to the outhouse and well, arms occupied with my clothes.
Once I reached my destination I quickly finished my business in the outhouse and, garbed in fresh clean clothes, swiftly drew a bucket of water from the well. The water in the bucket was lukewarm at best, but I didn’t care. I took a long draught from the bucket even though I knew Mattie would smack me one if he were here. The thought of it made me smile.
My thirst sated, I proceeded to wash my arms and face in the liquid. The water gathered in relieving droplets along my skin, creating just enough collected moisture to allow the dry breeze to cool me off. Contented, I watched the beads of water quickly evaporate in the morning light, drying me off with little effort on my part. Today was going good so far. It finally seemed like things were falling, albeit slowly, into place.
Fixing my smile back into its normal position, I gathered my thin night clothes into a disarrayed pile in my arms and walked back towards the shack (as I so lovingly called it). I looked forward to spending a difficult yet rewarding day at the local carpenter’s shop with my brother. The work was rigorous but it was worth it in the end. Soon Mattie and I would have enough money to move north; we would find a nice home and continue to ply our craft there. Good carpenters were always appreciated in the colder, timber-filled climates.
Everything was falling into place and I couldn’t be happier at the prospect. The game was finally taking a turn for the better.
******Nobody’s Hero******
Edge (United Kingdom)
The cursed sun continued to smiling mockingly at me, laughing at the sweat that pooled down my face. The damned hat I wore did nothing to stop the sun from baking me alive in this miserable kingdom of Causia. I futilely scanned the surrounding area, looking for my destination. Of course it continued to elude me. Blasted city. About to give up, a smudge of gray caught my eye against the beige backdrop. Desperation and Impatience masqueraded in a façade of hope; hope I was not willing to bet on. I was a smart man and smart men do not gamble without prior knowledge and information about the subject. That being common knowledge, I turned around to inquire my colleagues to gain said data.
Before I could ask, a voice interrupted my thoughts. “Is that the place, Edge?” I looked back towards the feminine voice who had called my name, my irritation grating slightly at the Zimatene accent that coated her words. Two figures, dressed in the same black uniform that I adorned - a uniform, if I am allowed to say so, that was clearly not designed for this semi-arid region, loomed behind me. The taller person was coated in a similar sheen of sweat that drenched my skin, stood slightly apart. Her pretty long brown hair was hidden from view, bunched under her straw hat. The woman’s pale skin was a painful shade of red, adding a feverish cast to her pale green eyes. I winced in sympathy, knowing my skin mirrored hers. “It could be, Arrow,” I said, my agitation leaking through my tone. “However, I’m not entirely sure.”
Instead of raging like I wanted to, I settled for scowling at the second figure. My eyes narrowed in on the shorter of the two women who accompanied me. Her course shoulder-length black hair shined in the harsh light, her dark keen eyes as sharp as her namesake. “What about you, Crow?” She’d better be able to figure out where the heck we are, I thought irritably. Maybe I was being somewhat irrational in my resentment towards the girl, but while Arrow and I suffered in this cursed heat, her tawny skin was clear and unburdened by this bothersome temperature. This was reason enough to be annoyed with her as far as I was concerned.
Crow shrugged, her lips tilted up slightly. I resisted the urge to smack her. The girl truly lived up to her namesake, always poking and prodding me to the point of breaking. “Yeah, it looks like it,” she said cheerfully, her thick Causian accent rearing its head. “I mean, we’re in the right area and all,” she pointed a long finger at the apparent city south of us, “That is Hempsten just over there and that looks like the house that Dragon described for us.”
Breathe, Edge, breathe. Counting to ten, I slowly turned my attention back to the scene. There off to my right, as if to spite me, a small house loomed off in the distance less than a mile from our current location. How on the continent of Eschaelon did I miss that? Disgruntled, I muttered several key phrases under my breath. I hoped she was right, because if not… Well… I would not be happy, to say the least. With that in mind, I marched on towards the pitiful excuse for a home with Crow and Arrow following a step behind.
Before I could reach the house, a shape entered my peripheral sight. The boy, who appeared to be around fifteen or sixteen, was lazily walking in the same direction we were holding a cloth bundle. He had brownish blond hair, a strong face with even features softened by the presence of baby fat, and a lean muscled build still pestered with the lingering awkwardness of adolescence. The lad didn’t seem to see us or, if he did, ignored us as he continued on to the house. Judging by the faraway look veiling his eyes, I would guess the former. I smiled. Found him.
I stopped and motioned to my companions to do the same. Looking back, their eyes were also focused on the boy. Pleased, I projected my path to intercept the lad’s trajectory. The teen was daft, that much was clear. He didn’t even perceive my presence until I was practically on top of him. Great, we had yet another idiot on hand. Joy.
The boy sent a questioning look at me, eyebrow raised, as confusion danced across eyes. I smiled pleasantly. “Excuse me, lad, but are you by chance Matthew Williams-Jones?” Sometimes, I wondered why I bothered. It was clear that this was indeed Matthew; he matched the description almost perfectly. Though his hair seemed a tad shorter and less wavy than was inferred, his eyes more blue than indigo. Then again his information was compiled by the blasted future-tellers. I never was one to trust those infernal people; colleagues or not. They made too many mistakes for them to be considered reliable.
Something flashed across blue eyes, before they settled into a blank expression. I was impressed, though I would never say it out loud. It took years of practice to school one’s expressions like that. Maybe stupid wasn’t the right description for the Causian. I misjudged him.
“Yeah,” he announced loudly, “why do you ask?”
Thank Eschaelon. So this was the right lad after all. This would make things much easier. Now we could leave this forsaken desert once and for all! I discreetly signaled Arrow and Crow with a quick flick of the wrist. Now they would be ready for the next step. Most people I talked to reacted quite violently once I gave them the news. I tried my hardest to resist the urge to smile, but I was failing quite miserably.
My lips set in the transition phase between that of a smirk and smug grin, I announced: “Well then, Matthew. I have been given the privilege to inform you that, you lad, have been drafted into the service of the Shadow Guild.”
******Nobody’s Hero******
Alfred (United States)
My carefully schooled expression shattered into a million pieces as my mouth dropped open, closed, and then opened again. Out of everything I had expected, every possible scenario I had played in my head, this was definitely not one of them. “…What?”
The blond bastard sighed in exasperation, as if he were dealing with an idiot. Man, how I wanted to smack him. The man, who was twenty years old at the most, had no right to act like a condescending ass. I truly hated people like that. He looked like a twig compared to the men I dealt with on a daily basis. Only a little taller than me with a wiry build, he had tousled wheat blond hair and a catlike face. Green eyes gazed scornfully at me from under thick blond brows. The girls he traveled with looked more capable than he did. Not to say the guy was feminine or anything. The women were just frankly more intimidating; their appearance was far more rough and ragged-looking than his. He looked and acted like a refined pompous upper-class ass. However, I
knew better than to believe everything that my eyes perceived. Deception was a weapon, sharpened and honed into a powerful tool that anyone could wield with enough practice. Appearances were often misleading.
“Honestly, are you daft lad?” the man spoke with a thick Kaestine accent, adding a lilt to his words and making them all the more condescending. “I said that you have been drafted into the Shadow Guild.”
The words took a moment to sink in, but once they did my blood froze painfully in my veins. These people were with the Shadow Guild? And they were trying to take my Mattie away? No! No way in hell would I allow that to happen! They would have to take him over my dead body. My twin was the best thing left in this world. If he left me… No, it was never going to happen. Never. I would make damn sure of that.
Calm down Alfred, I told myself firmly. Calm down and think. One, two, three… Everything was going to be alright. They believed I was Mattie. That was good, no it was perfect. That would make things easier in the long run. Now, what do I know about the Shadow Guild?
I thought quickly, knowing that I only had a few moments to feign shock before the façade fell flat. The Shadow Guild was well known throughout the continent of Eschaelon for being an underground organization that specialized in assassinations. The guild was said to be nothing more than a tool used by the various kingdoms to gain the upper hand over their competition and rivals.
Truthfully, I didn’t believe that. That was nothing more than a half-truth, a scratch on the surface. The Shadow Guild, if they were as smart as the rumors gave them credit for, would not simply be the type of organization that could easily be used and tossed aside. Some of the gossip, though I'm not entirely sure about the credibility of the sources, mentioned the guild having members or access to the royalty of the kingdoms. If that was true, then while the Sectors would gain an inside man, the guild would gain an advantage and a say in the ruling the Sectors. That would enable the Shadow Guild to conscript men and woman, of any social standing, without the interference of the authorities. A dangerous but profitable game if all went according to plan.
The poor sap that was chosen would then be forced to swear a blood oath to cement their loyalty to the guild or risk a painful death. However, as the draftee swore their oath of loyalty, so too would the guild - a promise that could never be broken so long as the person maintained their oath, viable even after death. My eyes widened slightly. I smiled inwardly, a plan beginning to formulate in my head. There was my answer. Now everything would be set right again, my world would continue to turn on its axis unhindered.
Movement caught my eye: it was a raised hand. An assassin’s raised hand. I lunged at the hand’s owner acting purely on instinct. The night clothes I once held were completely forgotten as they fluttered to the ground. The world came crashing down. My head was ringing. Struggling to move, my eyes darted wildly, focusing on the Kaestine who was still standing before me. I was trapped on the ground, unable to move with three known assassins surrounding me. I was angry. The invisible pressure was still keeping me flat to the dirt, helpless to defend myself. I settled for doing the only thing I could: I glared at the three guild members. The green-eyed man knelt before me, his mocking smile irritating me to no end. “Oh, don’t be like that, good chap,” he purred, “you might as well accept the fact that you’re coming with us, regardless of your objections. If you want to escape or attack us, then you’ll be sorely disappointed.” The smug bastard stood, motioning to the girl with the long ponytailed brown hair and pretty peridot eyes. “Arrow, here, has a useful ability that allows her to control gravity.” My eyes widened at this tidbit of information. Damn. Now I’m not only dealing with assassins, but gifted people too? Life truly hated me, but I would not fail. Matthew needed me and I would never let him down.
This called for a change of tactics. I needed them to believe me incapable of trickery and deception. I needed to create a foolish persona, one that would at least buy me enough time to make the blood pact. Falling back into one of the many masks that I had created over the years, I pouted at the man. My expression was a perfect mixture of petulance, frustration, and fear. This façade had worked well for me over the years and I knew it would continue to do so. People were so stupid, always falling for the same thing over and over again never learning their lessons. They would lose more often than not, and I would always come out on top. After all, wasn’t life itself nothing more than just a game? And I was quite good at games.
I avoided looking into my brother’s eyes, ones so similar to mine, as he held his hand out to me. My hand snaked out to clasp it firmly as we stood side by side, the rain soaking our dirty clothes and matted hair. We watched as the people who had taken care of us - for I cannot deign myself to call them family, as they were no such thing - close the door shut in our faces. We were on our own again; there was no sense in crying about it.
This was the thirteenth ‘family’ to have done such a thing to us in our shared eleven years of life. Some of the people had good intentions and tried to give us a good home, but couldn’t in the end. Others were forced to take us in or just wanted to earn respect in the community for doing so. With a smile still plastered on my face from the exchange I had previously with the bastards that threw us out, I thought of the way I used them in turn. They used me and my twin for recognition and extra labor, and in turn I used them for all I could get - which, with this particular couple, wasn’t much. The game was never boring and in the end I always win. I had to win. For the sake of my brother, I cannot afford not to. To lose is to die.
“Alfred,” a small voice beside me whispered.
I turned my fake smile towards him - and oh, I was such a good liar for I knew there was nothing to smile about truly, but I would never let my brother know that. Tears were formed at the corners of his violet-blue eyes and it broke my heart to see him so sad. I wanted nothing more than to throttle the people who had placed those tears in his eyes, but instead of giving in to my desires, I spoke. “Yes, Mattie?”
The hand in mine clenched harder, cutting off the circulation in my fingers, but I didn’t care. All of my attention was captured by Matthew’s next words: “What do we do now?” I have been asked this question so many times now, and while I always gave the same answer, my heart could not help but ask it too. What do I do now?
I laughed cheerily, my voice without bitterness or lament. It would not do to let my brother see my uncertainty and my fear. My voice confident, I said, “The same thing we always do: move on.” I turned away from that vile wooden barricade, with its mocking smile, and walked down the dreary street, not a single person in sight to witness the betrayal that had occurred outside of their stone prisons. Our own personal exile. “C’mon, let’s go to the inn for a few days, and then we’ll search for a new home.” I felt the cold currency jingle in my pockets as I strode forward. Matthew knew better than to question where I had gotten the money from and I was thankful for that. I mean it’s not like those bastards need all of that money anymore, with two less mouths to feed. Especially since my brother and I had helped them attain some of it. It was not like I had anything to fear anyway, as I would never be caught by any authority. No one would ever suspect the sweet helpful child, the child who always greeted everybody with a smile, to commit any type of foul heinous crime, such as stealing, to the couple that had so gratefully hosted him and his brother for five months. No one. After all, I was quite good at acting. Life was nothing more than just a game and I played it quite well. I would do anything to give Mattie a good and happy life. Anything, for I was not a hero.
I had long since given up any such dreams of being one. Heroes only existed in the stories that were fed to ignorant children, innocents who had yet to discover the truths of reality. There was no such thing as heroes. If there were, then I would have to admit true defeat and end my game. If heroes existed then why hadn’t my brother and I been rescued? Was my brother not worth saving? Was I not worth it? No, there was no such thing as heroes.
Hiding my eyes behind my matted bangs, I peeked at my brother. Silent tears trailed down his smudged face as he marched on, his hand still attached to mine. My brother was worth saving even if I was not. He had committed no crimes to deserve this punishment that we had received in life; he was too good a soul to live in this fermented environment, this cruel hell. And even though I knew there was no such thing as heroes, I couldn’t help but want to save my brother. The only thing worth saving in this world.
******Nobody’s Hero******
AN: Well, hope you like it. I know the names are confusing, but believe me when I say there's a good reason for it. Please leave a comment, helpful critiscism is appreciated. Tante Grazie.
Author: l_shadow_bard_l
Rating: T
Genre: Angst/Adventure, Assassin AU
Characters/Pairings: America, Canada, England/Britain, Mexico, Hungary | eventual:PruCan, UkUs; etsablished: AusHun, SpaRom
Warnings: Violence/Gore (later on), Rampant OOC'ness, OCs
Plot: Sixteen year old Alfred F. Williams-Jones takes the place of his twin brother, Matthew, when he is conscripted into the infamous Shadow Guild. Matthew sets out in search of him, finding suprising allies along the way.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (As usual *sighs* but in retrospect that may be a good thing *looks at future chapters* Yup, definitely a good thing. God, I’m such a horrible person for doing this to my own country.)
Characters:
Alfred F. Williams-Jones = America (sixteen years old)
Matthew Williams-Jones = Canada (sixteen years old)
Edge = England/Britain (nineteen years old)
Crow = Mexico (twenty years old)
Arrow = Hungary (twenty-two years old)
Information (this is exclusively for geography, as the history and economic content will be explained - at some point - in the story):
Eschaelon = a continent that is shaped like a six-pointed star; it is split into six countries ruled by their perspective kings and queens called Sectors. They meet at the center around a city called Crimane that is ruled as a spate body from the Sectors and can as such claim no political alliances or favors. The environments range from the frigid arctic of the north to the sandy deserts of the south; however, despite the vast differences between cultures and ecosystems, the people of Eschaelon are united under the same common language.
Arrilenn = the northern Sector of Eschaelon contains numerous forests in the southern regions and sheer icy cliffs to the north, and the demonym is Arrilennen; currently ruled by King Aldrich Beilschmidt (Germania).
Scimine = the northwestern Sector of Eschaelon has a ragged land with a large growth of pine forests and pristine mountains with a prominent coastline, and the demonym is Sciminite; currently ruled by King Romulus Vargas (Ancient Rome).
Kaesti = the northeastern Sector of Eschaelon is known for its abundant highlands and lush deciduous forests, and the demonym is Kaestine; currently ruled by King Govert De Vries (Netherlands).
Mauven = the southwestern Sector of Eschaelon contains humid tropical forests and numerous rivers that crisscross the land, and the demonym is Mauven; currently ruled by Queen Mei Xiao (Taiwan).
Zimahay = the southeastern Sector of Eschaelon is filled with sloping hills and small isolated forests that dot its countryside, and the demonym is Zimatene; currently ruled by Queen Stephanie Grimaldo (Monaco).
Causia = the southern Sector of Eschaelon is a diverse environment that ranges from the northern semi-arid scrubland to sand-filled deserts of the deep southern regions, and the demonym is Causian; currently ruled by Queen Yael Levi (Israel).
Crimane = a large metropolis that is governed by a city council of one hundred members and is independent of the kingdoms; it is at the center of the sectors, sharing a heavily guarded border with them, and houses the infamous Shadow Guild.
CHAPTER ONE: A GAME CALLED LIFE
Matthew (Canada)
“C’mon Mattie, let’s go already!” A cheerful voice shouted to me, statement punctuated with giggles. I turned towards the voice, a smile on my face. Bright blue eyes shined in the sunlight, a larger-than-life grin mapping his face. Brownish blond hair, so similar to my own, bounced as the boy’s shoulders shook with excitement. I wanted to laugh. My brother, Alfred, was as different to me as night and day. It was hard to believe that we were twins, though I was the older by a proud two minutes. Where he was an untamable flame, warm and passionate; I was a puddle of water, lucid and calm. Where he was capricious and independent, I was loyal and reliant. Two sides of the same coin, and as such a coin: we were inseparable. Nothing could come between us.
Feeling that monumental separation between us, spanning about five yards, I looked back - more accurately pleaded - to our parents for permission to follow. My mother chuckled, clear blue eyes twinkling with a combination of laughter and exasperation at our antics, as her auburn hair bounced around her shoulders. She looked up to our father, his strong face smiling. He gave the go-ahead, wrinkles fanning out from his hazel eyes and framing his kind mouth. My grin grew in berth, beginning to bear a startling resemblance to the one my brother adorned. I took off, feet thudding lightly into the dusty ground, after my twin to close the distance between us.
He waited for me, fidgeting from side to side. When I had reached the halfway point, his impatience got the better of him. He began to run, albeit at a slower pace. Eventually I caught up to him and together we raced off towards the man-made pond, our little legs moving as fast as our six year old bodies were capable of.
Alfred being Alfred, jumped into the pool without hesitation. I rolled my eyes and as I was about to follow, something caught my eye. A log had rolled up alongside the edge of the pond’s deep banks. Curious, I leaned over to get a better look at it. There weren’t that many trees in this area, so for a log to roll up next to me had thoroughly piqued my interest. Squinting, the blurry object eventually came into view. The log was pale, not resembling any tree that I had ever seen - which admittedly wasn’t a lot.
I could hear my parent’s footsteps as they approached, but I ignored them in favor of my interesting find. Alfred, most likely put off by my inattention, swam up next to me in order to find out what had replaced him in my affections.
“Mattie,” he pouted, “c’mon already. It’s boring playing by myself…” Blue eyes wandering when I did not respond, he finally noticed the log. Irritated and curious, he boldly paddled up to the log. Unsure of what to make of the strange pale wood, he prodded it. I leaned in, nearly falling into the water in my haste, to get a better view of what he was doing. Alfred suddenly squealed, arms flailing in the water. His cry startled me and I promptly fell back onto my bottom. Scrambling to my feet at the continued sounds of distress my brother was making, I skimmed the pond’s surface searching for him. Instead of Alfred though, my eyes fixated onto another location. The log that I had spotted earlier was pale and bloated, naked under the sun’s unforgiving rays, with a familiarly-shaped face. Unseeing green eyes stared at the sky, mouth open in a stiff grimace. Strange puss-filled legions marred the log’s face and bare chest. This was no log. It was a person, a human being.
I screamed. Our father, hearing both my brother and mine’s shouts, dashed from our mother’s side into the water. My brother was still flailing in the water, though visibly struggling, when our father reached him. He grabbed Alfred with his strong right arm, ignoring the nasty water that entered his mouth and the body that continued to float by the shore unaware of the chaos it caused. My shoulders were being shaken roughly. I looked up to see our mother’s face just in time for her to wrap her arms around me in a tight embrace, tactically maneuvering my vision away from the corpse.
Father made it to shore, carrying a largely unresponsive Alfred. I was suddenly released as mother flung herself from me towards my brother who was on the now-moistened dirt floor. She lowered her head onto his chest while raising her hand in front of Alfred’s mouth. Our father gathered me in his arms as mother then proceeded to beat on my brother’s chest and force air through his blue-tinged lips. I felt numb. This was all happening to fast. I couldn’t breathe. Everything was closing in on me, a weight crushing me into nothing…
I gasped. A large heavy dead-weight was crushing me. Struggling, I pushed on the force, muscles bulging with the effort. After several seconds with little to no results, the weight finally shifted and was clumsily deposited to the side of me. Gasping for air, I glared at the ignorant mass that occupied a large portion of the bed. Damn it, Alfred, would it kill you to stay on your own side of the bed for a change. I fumed angrily, thoughts stewing in irritation. I just wanted to sleep one night, just one night, without any interruptions. Just to spite me, the sun splashed across my eyes with a burning fury known only to those who have experienced such things. I groaned in frustration. It was just going to be one of those days. Life truly seemed to hate me.
Shooting one last glare at the lump known as Alfred, I sat up. The bright light diminished thankfully, instead torturing the mattress with its presence in place of my eyes. Rubbing my eyes, I stood, naked feet curling uncomfortably on the cold bare floor. That dream had haunted me for the past several nights, giving me neither relief nor respite. The dream was always the same, deceiving me with an innocent façade before fading to the gruesome reality. As much as I wished to write it off as a bad dream, I knew better. It was not a dream. It was a memory.
I sighed, glancing at my brother once more. I hated that dream, but… I would be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy seeing one of my brother’s sincere smiles. Man, how I missed those smiles. Not that Alfred didn’t smile now - goodness knows, he smiled far more often than necessary. It just didn’t have the same innocent quality to it that it once did, the same value that it contained in my memory. It’s been ten years since I last saw that smile. Ten years that felt like a lifetime ago. Now, Alfred smiled only to fulfill a purpose, to get a desired response from the subject of his focus. He didn’t smile just for the joy of smiling anymore. Such things were viewed as meaningless trifles to the present Alfred F. Williams-Jones.
I preferred the Alfred who slept before my eyes; face unperturbed by current circumstances and burdens. His mouth hung open with a thin line of drool trailing down his jaw, the corners of his lips upturned slightly. Eyes closed in sheer bliss, eyebrows smooth. These were the only times that I was permitted to see the glimpse of the Alfred I loved. The brother I still love. My mouth dropped into a frown. I loathed the mask that he wore: the fake Alfred that dared to wear the face of my twin. He attempted to keep me unaware of his ruse. He believed that he had succeeded in pulling the wool over my eyes. He believed wrong.
I was fully aware that, in his own way, my brother was trying to protect me. He wanted to continue being the shield that had always protected me when we were younger. Alfred didn’t - or want to, for that matter - realize that I didn’t need the shield anymore. It shamed me that I ever needed it to begin with. While I blamed my brother’s protectiveness and stupidity for the creation of such façade, deep down I knew that it was my fault. However, the mistake was made; now I just wanted my brother back. If only I had been stronger…
Shaking my head roughly to rid myself of such thoughts, I grabbed my brother’s shoulder. “Hey, Al,” I said groggily, “c’mon, we gotta get going or were going to be late.” My brother’s response was to roll over, snuggling into the warm place that I had previously occupied not even twenty seconds past. A louder snore proceeded to punctuate the still morning air. Rolling my eyes, I continued to shake his shoulder.
“Just five more minutes, Mattie…” Alfred mumbled, surprisingly coherent for a change.
I raised an eyebrow. Alfred was cocooned in the sheets - sheets that he had undoubtedly hogged all night - and completely vulnerable. A smirk enveloped my lips as an idea sprang to mind. I wasn’t in a good enough mood to deal with my brother’s tomfoolery this morning. Removing my hand from his shoulder, I reached down and grabbed the blanket firmly with both hands. Positioning myself just right, I gave a hard tug on the blanket. As predicted, Alfred tumbled to the floor face-up. He blinked wide sky-blue eyes rapidly, enlarged pupils darting from side to side before zoning in on me. Resisting the urge to laugh, I stated: “If I don’t get to sleep in, then neither do you.”
Alfred, shocked into a reluctant wakefulness, pouted at me. “Aw,” he whined, “but Mattie-”
“No buts, Al.”
I hid a smile as he sighed in defeat. Even though I knew he was probably just faking it, it was these times of normalcy that made life worth living sometimes. Though I couldn’t help but feel irritated too. A part of me struggled not to grin; a part of me struggled not to box him over his ears; and the last part wanted to hit me too. After all, it was embarrassing - no, downright wrong, that I couldn’t read my brother’s emotions. I knew he was acting, but I couldn’t consistently discern when he was acting. Though, Alfred wasn’t much better in that perspective either. He didn’t know that I saw through his mask. Alfred, the teen who could perfectly read a stranger’s motives as easily as breathing, couldn’t even read his own twin.
My musings were interrupted when Alfred finally levered himself off the floor. “Fine,” he muttered sourly, “but that means you’re making breakfast today.” I opened my mouth to protest this since I was the one who made breakfast yesterday, but he was already out the door, barely pausing to grab the clothes I left out for him. Yup, today was going to be another one of those days. Defeated, I walked the whole twelve feet to the other side of our one-room dwelling towards the poor excuse of a kitchen, dodging the ancient pieces of furniture that littered the floor. My brother could be such a pain sometimes.
******Nobody’s Hero******
Alfred (United States)
As soon as I walked out the door, my fixed smile faded slightly. The dry arid heat was already at full power, even though the sun had risen only an hour before. I reveled in it. While my twin was more acclimated to the colder climates, I thrived in areas with high temperatures and little rainfall. Eventually I’d get him out of here and move up north, Arrilenn perhaps. Yeah, he’d like that. I’d miss this place, but it’d be worth it in the end.
Anything to keep Mattie happy.
I spared one last glance back at the house, taking in its decrepit appearance, as I lazily pulled on my boots. The faded white-washed walls, the cracked shutters, the hole in the screen door; it was crappy as hell, but it was still home. The growing city of Hempsten in the Causian Sector may not be all it was cracked up to be, but it was still better than nothing. Better than where we’d been anyway. My lips upturning slightly, I turned around and continued on the half mile trek to the outhouse and well, arms occupied with my clothes.
Once I reached my destination I quickly finished my business in the outhouse and, garbed in fresh clean clothes, swiftly drew a bucket of water from the well. The water in the bucket was lukewarm at best, but I didn’t care. I took a long draught from the bucket even though I knew Mattie would smack me one if he were here. The thought of it made me smile.
My thirst sated, I proceeded to wash my arms and face in the liquid. The water gathered in relieving droplets along my skin, creating just enough collected moisture to allow the dry breeze to cool me off. Contented, I watched the beads of water quickly evaporate in the morning light, drying me off with little effort on my part. Today was going good so far. It finally seemed like things were falling, albeit slowly, into place.
Fixing my smile back into its normal position, I gathered my thin night clothes into a disarrayed pile in my arms and walked back towards the shack (as I so lovingly called it). I looked forward to spending a difficult yet rewarding day at the local carpenter’s shop with my brother. The work was rigorous but it was worth it in the end. Soon Mattie and I would have enough money to move north; we would find a nice home and continue to ply our craft there. Good carpenters were always appreciated in the colder, timber-filled climates.
Everything was falling into place and I couldn’t be happier at the prospect. The game was finally taking a turn for the better.
******Nobody’s Hero******
Edge (United Kingdom)
The cursed sun continued to smiling mockingly at me, laughing at the sweat that pooled down my face. The damned hat I wore did nothing to stop the sun from baking me alive in this miserable kingdom of Causia. I futilely scanned the surrounding area, looking for my destination. Of course it continued to elude me. Blasted city. About to give up, a smudge of gray caught my eye against the beige backdrop. Desperation and Impatience masqueraded in a façade of hope; hope I was not willing to bet on. I was a smart man and smart men do not gamble without prior knowledge and information about the subject. That being common knowledge, I turned around to inquire my colleagues to gain said data.
Before I could ask, a voice interrupted my thoughts. “Is that the place, Edge?” I looked back towards the feminine voice who had called my name, my irritation grating slightly at the Zimatene accent that coated her words. Two figures, dressed in the same black uniform that I adorned - a uniform, if I am allowed to say so, that was clearly not designed for this semi-arid region, loomed behind me. The taller person was coated in a similar sheen of sweat that drenched my skin, stood slightly apart. Her pretty long brown hair was hidden from view, bunched under her straw hat. The woman’s pale skin was a painful shade of red, adding a feverish cast to her pale green eyes. I winced in sympathy, knowing my skin mirrored hers. “It could be, Arrow,” I said, my agitation leaking through my tone. “However, I’m not entirely sure.”
Instead of raging like I wanted to, I settled for scowling at the second figure. My eyes narrowed in on the shorter of the two women who accompanied me. Her course shoulder-length black hair shined in the harsh light, her dark keen eyes as sharp as her namesake. “What about you, Crow?” She’d better be able to figure out where the heck we are, I thought irritably. Maybe I was being somewhat irrational in my resentment towards the girl, but while Arrow and I suffered in this cursed heat, her tawny skin was clear and unburdened by this bothersome temperature. This was reason enough to be annoyed with her as far as I was concerned.
Crow shrugged, her lips tilted up slightly. I resisted the urge to smack her. The girl truly lived up to her namesake, always poking and prodding me to the point of breaking. “Yeah, it looks like it,” she said cheerfully, her thick Causian accent rearing its head. “I mean, we’re in the right area and all,” she pointed a long finger at the apparent city south of us, “That is Hempsten just over there and that looks like the house that Dragon described for us.”
Breathe, Edge, breathe. Counting to ten, I slowly turned my attention back to the scene. There off to my right, as if to spite me, a small house loomed off in the distance less than a mile from our current location. How on the continent of Eschaelon did I miss that? Disgruntled, I muttered several key phrases under my breath. I hoped she was right, because if not… Well… I would not be happy, to say the least. With that in mind, I marched on towards the pitiful excuse for a home with Crow and Arrow following a step behind.
Before I could reach the house, a shape entered my peripheral sight. The boy, who appeared to be around fifteen or sixteen, was lazily walking in the same direction we were holding a cloth bundle. He had brownish blond hair, a strong face with even features softened by the presence of baby fat, and a lean muscled build still pestered with the lingering awkwardness of adolescence. The lad didn’t seem to see us or, if he did, ignored us as he continued on to the house. Judging by the faraway look veiling his eyes, I would guess the former. I smiled. Found him.
I stopped and motioned to my companions to do the same. Looking back, their eyes were also focused on the boy. Pleased, I projected my path to intercept the lad’s trajectory. The teen was daft, that much was clear. He didn’t even perceive my presence until I was practically on top of him. Great, we had yet another idiot on hand. Joy.
The boy sent a questioning look at me, eyebrow raised, as confusion danced across eyes. I smiled pleasantly. “Excuse me, lad, but are you by chance Matthew Williams-Jones?” Sometimes, I wondered why I bothered. It was clear that this was indeed Matthew; he matched the description almost perfectly. Though his hair seemed a tad shorter and less wavy than was inferred, his eyes more blue than indigo. Then again his information was compiled by the blasted future-tellers. I never was one to trust those infernal people; colleagues or not. They made too many mistakes for them to be considered reliable.
Something flashed across blue eyes, before they settled into a blank expression. I was impressed, though I would never say it out loud. It took years of practice to school one’s expressions like that. Maybe stupid wasn’t the right description for the Causian. I misjudged him.
“Yeah,” he announced loudly, “why do you ask?”
Thank Eschaelon. So this was the right lad after all. This would make things much easier. Now we could leave this forsaken desert once and for all! I discreetly signaled Arrow and Crow with a quick flick of the wrist. Now they would be ready for the next step. Most people I talked to reacted quite violently once I gave them the news. I tried my hardest to resist the urge to smile, but I was failing quite miserably.
My lips set in the transition phase between that of a smirk and smug grin, I announced: “Well then, Matthew. I have been given the privilege to inform you that, you lad, have been drafted into the service of the Shadow Guild.”
******Nobody’s Hero******
Alfred (United States)
My carefully schooled expression shattered into a million pieces as my mouth dropped open, closed, and then opened again. Out of everything I had expected, every possible scenario I had played in my head, this was definitely not one of them. “…What?”
The blond bastard sighed in exasperation, as if he were dealing with an idiot. Man, how I wanted to smack him. The man, who was twenty years old at the most, had no right to act like a condescending ass. I truly hated people like that. He looked like a twig compared to the men I dealt with on a daily basis. Only a little taller than me with a wiry build, he had tousled wheat blond hair and a catlike face. Green eyes gazed scornfully at me from under thick blond brows. The girls he traveled with looked more capable than he did. Not to say the guy was feminine or anything. The women were just frankly more intimidating; their appearance was far more rough and ragged-looking than his. He looked and acted like a refined pompous upper-class ass. However, I
knew better than to believe everything that my eyes perceived. Deception was a weapon, sharpened and honed into a powerful tool that anyone could wield with enough practice. Appearances were often misleading.
“Honestly, are you daft lad?” the man spoke with a thick Kaestine accent, adding a lilt to his words and making them all the more condescending. “I said that you have been drafted into the Shadow Guild.”
The words took a moment to sink in, but once they did my blood froze painfully in my veins. These people were with the Shadow Guild? And they were trying to take my Mattie away? No! No way in hell would I allow that to happen! They would have to take him over my dead body. My twin was the best thing left in this world. If he left me… No, it was never going to happen. Never. I would make damn sure of that.
Calm down Alfred, I told myself firmly. Calm down and think. One, two, three… Everything was going to be alright. They believed I was Mattie. That was good, no it was perfect. That would make things easier in the long run. Now, what do I know about the Shadow Guild?
I thought quickly, knowing that I only had a few moments to feign shock before the façade fell flat. The Shadow Guild was well known throughout the continent of Eschaelon for being an underground organization that specialized in assassinations. The guild was said to be nothing more than a tool used by the various kingdoms to gain the upper hand over their competition and rivals.
Truthfully, I didn’t believe that. That was nothing more than a half-truth, a scratch on the surface. The Shadow Guild, if they were as smart as the rumors gave them credit for, would not simply be the type of organization that could easily be used and tossed aside. Some of the gossip, though I'm not entirely sure about the credibility of the sources, mentioned the guild having members or access to the royalty of the kingdoms. If that was true, then while the Sectors would gain an inside man, the guild would gain an advantage and a say in the ruling the Sectors. That would enable the Shadow Guild to conscript men and woman, of any social standing, without the interference of the authorities. A dangerous but profitable game if all went according to plan.
The poor sap that was chosen would then be forced to swear a blood oath to cement their loyalty to the guild or risk a painful death. However, as the draftee swore their oath of loyalty, so too would the guild - a promise that could never be broken so long as the person maintained their oath, viable even after death. My eyes widened slightly. I smiled inwardly, a plan beginning to formulate in my head. There was my answer. Now everything would be set right again, my world would continue to turn on its axis unhindered.
Movement caught my eye: it was a raised hand. An assassin’s raised hand. I lunged at the hand’s owner acting purely on instinct. The night clothes I once held were completely forgotten as they fluttered to the ground. The world came crashing down. My head was ringing. Struggling to move, my eyes darted wildly, focusing on the Kaestine who was still standing before me. I was trapped on the ground, unable to move with three known assassins surrounding me. I was angry. The invisible pressure was still keeping me flat to the dirt, helpless to defend myself. I settled for doing the only thing I could: I glared at the three guild members. The green-eyed man knelt before me, his mocking smile irritating me to no end. “Oh, don’t be like that, good chap,” he purred, “you might as well accept the fact that you’re coming with us, regardless of your objections. If you want to escape or attack us, then you’ll be sorely disappointed.” The smug bastard stood, motioning to the girl with the long ponytailed brown hair and pretty peridot eyes. “Arrow, here, has a useful ability that allows her to control gravity.” My eyes widened at this tidbit of information. Damn. Now I’m not only dealing with assassins, but gifted people too? Life truly hated me, but I would not fail. Matthew needed me and I would never let him down.
This called for a change of tactics. I needed them to believe me incapable of trickery and deception. I needed to create a foolish persona, one that would at least buy me enough time to make the blood pact. Falling back into one of the many masks that I had created over the years, I pouted at the man. My expression was a perfect mixture of petulance, frustration, and fear. This façade had worked well for me over the years and I knew it would continue to do so. People were so stupid, always falling for the same thing over and over again never learning their lessons. They would lose more often than not, and I would always come out on top. After all, wasn’t life itself nothing more than just a game? And I was quite good at games.
I avoided looking into my brother’s eyes, ones so similar to mine, as he held his hand out to me. My hand snaked out to clasp it firmly as we stood side by side, the rain soaking our dirty clothes and matted hair. We watched as the people who had taken care of us - for I cannot deign myself to call them family, as they were no such thing - close the door shut in our faces. We were on our own again; there was no sense in crying about it.
This was the thirteenth ‘family’ to have done such a thing to us in our shared eleven years of life. Some of the people had good intentions and tried to give us a good home, but couldn’t in the end. Others were forced to take us in or just wanted to earn respect in the community for doing so. With a smile still plastered on my face from the exchange I had previously with the bastards that threw us out, I thought of the way I used them in turn. They used me and my twin for recognition and extra labor, and in turn I used them for all I could get - which, with this particular couple, wasn’t much. The game was never boring and in the end I always win. I had to win. For the sake of my brother, I cannot afford not to. To lose is to die.
“Alfred,” a small voice beside me whispered.
I turned my fake smile towards him - and oh, I was such a good liar for I knew there was nothing to smile about truly, but I would never let my brother know that. Tears were formed at the corners of his violet-blue eyes and it broke my heart to see him so sad. I wanted nothing more than to throttle the people who had placed those tears in his eyes, but instead of giving in to my desires, I spoke. “Yes, Mattie?”
The hand in mine clenched harder, cutting off the circulation in my fingers, but I didn’t care. All of my attention was captured by Matthew’s next words: “What do we do now?” I have been asked this question so many times now, and while I always gave the same answer, my heart could not help but ask it too. What do I do now?
I laughed cheerily, my voice without bitterness or lament. It would not do to let my brother see my uncertainty and my fear. My voice confident, I said, “The same thing we always do: move on.” I turned away from that vile wooden barricade, with its mocking smile, and walked down the dreary street, not a single person in sight to witness the betrayal that had occurred outside of their stone prisons. Our own personal exile. “C’mon, let’s go to the inn for a few days, and then we’ll search for a new home.” I felt the cold currency jingle in my pockets as I strode forward. Matthew knew better than to question where I had gotten the money from and I was thankful for that. I mean it’s not like those bastards need all of that money anymore, with two less mouths to feed. Especially since my brother and I had helped them attain some of it. It was not like I had anything to fear anyway, as I would never be caught by any authority. No one would ever suspect the sweet helpful child, the child who always greeted everybody with a smile, to commit any type of foul heinous crime, such as stealing, to the couple that had so gratefully hosted him and his brother for five months. No one. After all, I was quite good at acting. Life was nothing more than just a game and I played it quite well. I would do anything to give Mattie a good and happy life. Anything, for I was not a hero.
I had long since given up any such dreams of being one. Heroes only existed in the stories that were fed to ignorant children, innocents who had yet to discover the truths of reality. There was no such thing as heroes. If there were, then I would have to admit true defeat and end my game. If heroes existed then why hadn’t my brother and I been rescued? Was my brother not worth saving? Was I not worth it? No, there was no such thing as heroes.
Hiding my eyes behind my matted bangs, I peeked at my brother. Silent tears trailed down his smudged face as he marched on, his hand still attached to mine. My brother was worth saving even if I was not. He had committed no crimes to deserve this punishment that we had received in life; he was too good a soul to live in this fermented environment, this cruel hell. And even though I knew there was no such thing as heroes, I couldn’t help but want to save my brother. The only thing worth saving in this world.
******Nobody’s Hero******
AN: Well, hope you like it. I know the names are confusing, but believe me when I say there's a good reason for it. Please leave a comment, helpful critiscism is appreciated. Tante Grazie.