A sense of silent unease plagued the family as they began to lay out increasingly large circles of candles in the UN headquarters, the only room large enough to hold the rings of flames necessary to fully complete the spell.
"What... What exactly will the spell do?" UK asked, gazing on uneasily at the many rings of candles being laid out before her.
"You'll fall asleep over there," Ireland began, staring down at her spellbook, skimming over the Latin incantations, "We'll be stood in the centre and providing that nothing goes wrong, we'll end up in the afterlife, preferably somewhere near Monarchy. From there, we find him and defeat him!"
"...and how exactly are we doing that?" Northern Ireland asked, visibly a little shaky.
"...I'm working on it-"
"WHAT TO YOU MEAN YOU'RE 'WORKING ON IT'?"
"I JUST AM, OK?!"
"My poor ears..." Wales sighed. "Also, what happens if... y'know... something goes wrong?"
"Death, probably," England laughed, to the amusement of absolutely nobody. "No? Not funny?"
Rolling her eyes, Ireland answered, "Chances are, we'll get stuck in the abyss and Monarchy will take over UK..."
"Um... Ireland?" UN finally spoke up, having sat beside UK, observing the chaos for the past three hours, "If we do win... Can I keep your Cinnamon-scented candle? It reminds me of one of my ex-rabbits..."
"Wha... I suppose... Ex-rabbits?"
"WE'RE DONE!" Scotland yelled, proudly lighting the final candle. "LET'S START!"
Nodding, the siblings tiptoed into the centre of the room, standing solemnly in a circle, holding hands. Their shadows flickered in the candlelight and the Latin curse they chanted swept through their veins, creating a mist of the purest magic that pulsed though them, pulling them into the other dimension, growing ever closer to their greatest foe.
"...Are they just going to stand there?" UN giggled, gazing at the still figures before him, who stood like statues; their concentration was perfect, yet to the eyes of the beholding organisation they were just stood there, centred around nothing, their empty stares a fragile façade, blanketing their true actions and emotions. "...UK?"
As Ireland had explained, UK was fast asleep, curled up peacefully in her chair. Smiling softly, UN crept over to his storage cupboard and, digging through the various clutter, eventually pulled out his favourite fluffy unicorn blanket and draped it fondly over the sleeping Brit.
***
"AAAAAAHH!"
"ENGLAND, STOP SCREAMING! PEOPLE ARE STARING!" Ireland yelled, gazing around at the crowd surrounding them.
"O-Oh... OH MY GOD, IT'S THE COUNTIES!" England shouted joyfully, rushing up to - and hugging - an unsuspecting onlooker, who laughed awkwardly and patted England on the back.
"How come Lancashire gets hugs and I don't?!" huffed a woman behind them, causing Anglo to dash immediately over to her, giggling and throwing his arms around her too.
"You two are still not on human-name terms, then, I take it?" England laughed.
"Yep, he's still just as annoying as he was and I still don't like him!" she giggled back, earning a glare of death from the Lancastrian.
"Anyway," Lancashire sighed, "Why are you here? You don't all look dead!"
"Oh, we're trying to stop Da- Monarchy from possessing UK," England grinned.
"And, um..." the woman laughed awkwardly, pointing at the siblings, "Who are they?"
"Oh, I forgot!" England exclaimed, pointing to each of his accomplices in turn, "Scotland, Wales, North, Ireland! And these two are Yorkshire and Lancashire!"
"WAIT!" Wales exclaimed, "Like the Yorkshire Puddings?"
"Yes!" Yorkshire smiled proudly, "Food of champions!"
"Sooo.... anyone seen Monarchy?" Ireland interrupted, flicking through her spellbook, out of both nervousness and boredom.
"Yes, but what... What actually happened?" Lancashire asked, somewhat sceptically.
Slightly losing the will to live, Wales explained everything that had happened to UK and everything that was at stake, while most of the counties listened intently, with the exception of one of the front ones, who was desperately trying to get the others to stop using him as an armrest, an endeavour with failed, largely because he was just the perfect height for the job and was largely ignored in favour of the tale being unravelled before them.
"Did you say it'll 'free the souls of the innocent'?" one of the counties asked, sounding suspiciously excited.
"Yes, it does..."
"What if that means us?"
"...Perhaps," another agreed. "Either way, he'll be down here soon, so we're going to find out..."
YOU ARE READING
A Truly British Christmas
FanfictionIn a world where her family is falling apart, UK is facing a desolate Christmas alone. Her siblings have long abandoned each other, any harmony that once existed between them long since decayed away. However, is all hope really lost? In these trying...
