Shattered Souls Make Good Pets

11

"Does anyone have any fucking idea what this means?" England yelled, looking just about ready to throw his laptop half-way across the plane.

"Stockholm," Sweden said, Finland looking at him for a few seconds with a blank expression.

"Stockholm Syndrome," Belarus said, snapping her fingers, "I'm kidnapped, but I love my kidnapper."

"What's with the spider analogies?" Prussia asked, "Thought it was in Australia."

"Shut up," Germany said, standing, the bouncy Italian following behind him as he walked into the cockpit.

It was only so long before the plane started moving.

"What do you think the weird words are for?" Spain asked, looking at the letter.

"Spell to start the spider," Iceland replied.

"What about the key?" Russia asked as Norway held his hand out to take it, studying the words inscribed on it.

"Rød wyvern, hvor er skalaen din?" Norway read it aloud, only the other Nordic's understanding the Norwegian.

"English please," Poland said, his feet kicked up on one of the seats.

"Red wyvern, where is your scale." Denmark translated, "but what the fuck does that even mean?"

"Hold this," Norway said, handing him the key before digging in his bag and pulling out the jar of scales. He got a tray with edges out from under one of the seats before he dumped them onto it.

He pushed the assortment of scales around, finding a larger, dull, red scale before he put it to his side and started scooping the scales back into the jar, closing the lid and dropping it into his bag before grabbing the scale and holding his hand out, Denmark handing him the key as he placed it on the handle.

It started glowing red, the lines going down it's sides starting to glow as the teeth changed, getting thinner with more notches.

"Oh it's a magic key," Mexico said, his eye twitching, "nobody saw that coming."

"You shouldn't diss magic," China warned, "unless you want to be cursed."

"Hate to break it to you, but a few days ago I found out I'm related to a demon and that I probably am one!"

"You might be a demon," Romano said, shrugging, "but probably not. You're half-human half-clan, not likely you'll ever be able to transform, if at all."

"What am I?" Canada asked nervously.

"America's younger brother," Romano replied.

"I think he's the youngest kid actually," Lithuania said, "because the oldest is almost fourteen thousand and the Mother only died four-hundred fifty years ago."

China started choking on his tea.

"How old is America?" France asked, slightly concerned for the answer.

"Three thousand years or so."

And China started hacking up a lung, Japan patting him on the back half-heartedly.

Russia did the math in his head. America was at least 2100 years older than him.

Okay.

Both were immortal anyway, and at least he didn't act like China.

He seemed to live in the present, and of course he did. With family as old as his they would have learned to live in the present instead of yearning for the past, because the present should always be new. If there's nothing new, there's something wrong.