As the next memory faded in, it was clear that it was merely a continuation of the last one, having only skipped about an hour or so of travel time.
The children stopped at the tree line as they reached the edge of the clearing that held the new village. "Hey, what do you know? They did know the right way!" Spiky-Hair exclaimed as he burst out into the clearing.
Amayeli crossed her arms and glowered at the taller man, "Yes," she said, still irritated in his low confidence in her. Seeing as he didn't pay her much mind, she dropped the look, opting instead to do the spell again so that Kanata could understand them as well. She placed her forefinger between his eyebrows and began transferring information as the others caught up.
By the time the last of the blondes had made it near the clearing, Amayeli had finished with the spell and took her finger off of her brother's head. "You kind of have to unscramble their words when they talk," she told him in a native language. He nodded and they turned to look at the motherly man and the child, who were still catching up.
The two blondes quickened their pace upon seeing their village, the boy letting go of the man's hand to go up ahead. His focus on what was ahead of him, however, caused him to forget about what was below him. An awkwardly shaped rock made its way underfoot, causing him to lose his balance and tumble to the ground with a yelp. The motherly man was quick to help him up as all attention turned to the young boy.
Both of the blondes crossed the threshold of trees and made their way into the clearing where the motherly man kneeled to examine the hand that the boy had thrust out to catch himself with. There was a gash where his palm had hit a rough root instead of the dirt. The man brushed some dirt away from the wound as it began to slowly close up.
This caught Amayeli's attention, and she moved closer to watch as the boy's hand healed up much like she had seen her older siblings' wounds heal. It was much faster than any regular human could naturally heal. She looked at the boy in awe as his cut finished healing.
The motherly man looked up at the others worriedly, and it was clear what he was thinking. 'How were they going to deal with two native children who knew they weren't human? If the two of them told other people about this and they believed them, this could cause a major problem.'
Amayeli, however, was oblivious to this and broke out into a beaming smile. "You're like us!" she proclaimed, accidently butchering the sentence structure and using both Icelandic and Swedish words. The men were able to piece together what had she said nonetheless, and were greatly surprised once they figured out what she had meant to say.
"You're a personification?" The motherly man looked down at her with eyes that were wide and lightly relieved.
Amayeli vigorously nodded at him with a great smile firmly planted on her face. Kanata moved closer to his sister to stand by her side as she knelt next to the pale-skinned boy. The motherly man traded looks with the others behind the two children. Amayeli followed his gaze and grinned at the other three as well.
Norge looked at the motherly man, the children, the men beside him, and then the children again. "What exactly do you personify?" He asked the children, his expression turned hopeful.
On cue, the children both pointed at the village behind them: the pale-faces' village.
Now it was the motherly man's turn to break into a great smile. He reached a hand out to the girl, "We had been beginning to think you didn't exist, we've been looking for you for days now." The girl giggled but did not take his offered hand, instead she began speaking quickly to the boy in their native language.
"I knew they were looking for someone!"
"We should leave now, Ama."
"What? Why?" The girl's smile faltered, she wanted to learn more about these people, they couldn't leave now.
"They just said they were looking for us. When people look for strangers, it's not usually a good thing." Kanata crossed his arms, hugging himself as he allowed his expression to grow more uncomfortable, hoping she would get the message.
"Says who? Besides, they seem really nice, and it's not like we can't defend ourselves." Amayeli obliviously didn't notice what her brother was trying to convey, still insisting that they stay.
"Ama, I really don't know about this." Her twin continued to protest.
"We'll be fine, I won't leave you alone, I promise!"
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Canada looked down, those were words she said to him often and it still hit him hard every time. Now, though, instead of making him feel grateful for his siblings, those words only conjured up a terrible guilt. He couldn't help her now, he couldn't be there to help ease the pain of her memories as she had eased his own loneliness and anxieties many a time.
He felt a nudge and looked to his left to meet his brother's gaze. "Hey," he whispered, "everything'll be fine. 'Meils will get out of there, we'll take her home, and then the four of us can plan what we'll do to England when we track him down." Diego spoke with a small smile, his voice low enough that only to two of them could hear. Matthew mustered up a small smile of his own, and the two brothers turned back to the rift. Their eyes remained focused on the floating image in front of them but their minds were elsewhere, plotting and planning.
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The memory faded back in on a scene in the Viking village. Three children were playing outside in the center of a cluster of 3 buildings made from stone and earth. The two smaller children were ganging up on the older one. Kanata and Amayeli looked the same as they had in the last memory, only their clothes had changed slightly, a shade off from the last ones and with more colorful decorations on Amayeli's dress.
"Ha! You'll never beat us, Ice!" Amayeli cried out in Icelandic at the older boy, her sentences no longer broken. The three of them held thick sticks in their hands like swords as they faced each other. Kanata and Amayeli took turns lunging at Iceland, their play-swords clashing like the weapons of real warriors.
The children clashed with great smiles on their faces, battling with zeal. Iceland faced the twins, Kanata on his right and Amayeli on his left. He looked much less shy than before, more outgoing and lively now that he was playing with the twins. Confidently, he grinned at Amayeli, "No, but we'll beat you!"
Kanata jumped over to Iceland's side on cue, pointing his branch at his sister with a grin. He couldn't help the grin that made its way to his face upon seeing his sister's reaction.
"Hey!" Amayeli exclaimed. Her mouth opened wide in dramatized shock at her brother's betrayal. She blocked swings from both of the boys as they took turns lunging at her before she lowered her stick and ran away towards the side of one of the smaller buildings.
The boys laughed and Iceland called after her, "You can't beat us, can you?" He teased. They laughed some more before they saw why she was running away.
Amayeli grabbed another stick from their small stockpile of imaginary swords next to the second smaller building. Once she had found a nice thick one, she ran back with both of them in her hands, yelling a war cry as she charged at the two boys. The three children clashed once more in their altered teams, giggling and laughing the whole time. They smacked the sticks against one another, sloppily battling as three blonde men emerged from the distant tree line.
As the children continued their play-battle, one of the men ran over, grabbing a stick of his own. He jumped into the fray, blocking a blow from Kanata as he joined Amayeli's side. "Yeah, Farbror Matt! Let's get them! You guys are going down for sure!" Amayeli exclaimed as Denmark began fighting on her side. She threw down her second sword, holding the first one with both hands as she battled Iceland. The two of them pushed the boys to retreat almost all the way to the large building behind them. (Farbror = Uncle [paternal])
"Alright, you four, that's enough" A voice called from the doorway of the nearby building. All of them immediately ceased their attacks and groaned in disappointment, even Denmark. "Don't give me that," a smaller, blonde man stepped outside with his hands authoritatively placed on his hips. "And you two," he turned to the two boys, "how many times have I told you not to fight with your sister? She's a lady."
"Aw, come on, Fin," Denmark straightened up, casually addressing the man, "She's a warrior too, just look at her!" He put a hand on Amayeli's head, ruffling her hair as she beamed up at Finland, still holding the battered stick in her hands. "Doesn't that look like the face of a warrior to you?"
Finland huffed, but dropped his arms to loosely cross them in front of his chest. "Either way," he looked at the children once more, "Your pappa brought a deer back, I want you three to help me prepare it for dinner."
"Okay, mutsi," all three of the children responded at once as they dropped their sticks and headed over to Finland.
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Iceland gazed at the memory with a fond look on his face. He remembered that day quite clearly from his own point of view. That was back when they had been closer, more like a real family. Of course, he was still close with the other Nordics, but it wasn't the same. He rarely called Finland and Sweden mutsi or pappa anymore, it just didn't feel quite right. Things had changed when the twins had become part of their makeshift family, but they changed even more when the two had disappeared.
It was all Finland could do to keep from crying again. His babies had been so happy back then. Even though they weren't biologically his children he cared for them as if they were, and he knew Sweden did too. The twins had lived with them for about ten years and became an irreplaceable part of their family in that short time. Yes, they had left occasionally to visit their biological mother and siblings, but they were still his babies and he was still their mutsi. Nothing had been the same after they had died -- or at least they had thought they died. Iceland had become more withdrawn, Sweden was even quieter, and Denmark became more aggressive for a time. If only they could just get out of here and talk this through, make up for lost time, as a family.
Sweden looked over at his husband, sadly watching the smaller man sink deeper into his thoughts. He turned his gaze back to the floating rift as the memory changed once more. His gaze was drawn to the motionless figure of his long-lost daughter. She was turned away from the rift, her arms crossed tightly and her wavy autumn-colored hair hiding her head, shoulders, and back behind a thick curtain. A part of Sweden wondered if she could sense the rift and the eyes peering in through it. He wished he could see her face, the expression hidden by hair; he wanted to see if there was any recognition in her eyes, if she truly remembered these events and held any fondness for them.
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Another memory faded in from the black. Amayeli ran through the center of the small cluster of buildings and over to a stump near the tree line. A tall, blonde man with glasses sat on the stump with a piece of wood in his hands. He stared at the lump of wood with a great focus as he shaved off pieces with the small knife in his other hand.
As the girl came closer, the man heard her giggling and stopped to look at her as she ran over to him. She gave a cheerful greeting as she crashed into him, hugging his arm, "Osiyo, Yona!"
Sweden chuckled, passing the lump of wood to his other hand so he could wrap an arm around his little girl. "Good morning, Ama," he kissed her forehead and lifted her up to sit on his leg. The sun had barely risen, its golden rays still struggling to peek over the trees. Amayeli leaned against him, resting her head against his collarbone, still a little tired in the early hour. "Little early to be out, isn't it?" Sweden asked as he shifted to continue whittling the lump of wood as she sat in her lap.
"You're out here," she justified, watching his movements with interest. "What are you doing?" She asked as he continued to shave pieces of wood away.
"Making a figure," Sweden responded simply, cutting off a bigger chunk of the lump.
"What kind?" Amayeli looked up at her father-figure's face, curiosity painting her young features.
Sweden shrugged, "Don't know yet. I just cut pieces off until it starts to look like something, then I round it off and add details." He continued to cut off pieces of the wood.
Amayeli hummed in acknowledgement and continued to watch his hands as they worked on the small lump of wood. After a moment, she tilted her head and squinted at the lump. "It kind of looks like a beaver."
The quiet man stopped whittling to examine the wood, holding out on his palm. Amayeli pointed at a small protrusion, "See? That's the tail, and it's sitting up on its back legs."
Sweden flipped the lump over, tilting it slightly before he saw it. "Oh," he said, "you're right." He began working on the lump once more, flattening out what would be the bottom.
A few moments passed before Amayeli reached out to the lump, "Can I try?" She asked, tilting her head up to look Sweden in the face. He met her gaze and paused, thinking, before nodding and handing her the lump and then the knife. She took the knife with care, she knew it was very sharp, he didn't have to tell her that. Carefully, she adjusted the knife in her small hand to hold it the same way she had seen Sweden hold it before she began chipping pieces of wood off of the small lump.
"Not quite," Sweden said, shaking his head, he adjusted her grip on the knife slightly, taking her hand in his as he guided her movements, "Like this."
Soon, she was shaping the figure on her own, cutting a rounded head out of the awkward lump. Then came the ears, then the arms, she continued whittling away at the wood with Sweden giving her the occasional tip. Eventually, it came to more closely resemble a beaver. Amayeli smiled proudly as she began to perfect the beaver, adding details where she deemed necessary.
----------
Berwald gave a small, bittersweet smile; he had kept that little beaver figure for a long time. Unfortunately, Matthias broke it many years ago. He hadn't meant to, of course, he'd accidently bumped the shelf it sat on, causing the figure to tumble to the hard floor below. Since the wood was as aged as it was, it had split into pieces upon impact. The splintering of the wood had made it impossible to fix. He had screamed at Matthias that day, he had screamed so loud and for so long that he had scared Tino... and Emil, hell, he had scared all of them.
The figure had been the last tangible thing that was left of her, of both of them. When the figure broke so did something inside of him and it had refused to go quietly. He had loved-he loves those children dearly, they are his children and loosing them had taken a great toll on him, on all of them.
Matthew looked over at Sweden, he remembers him and his sister being especially close, like he had been with Finland. He debated going over to give the older man a half-hug, it was the course of action that felt right in his mind, but he knew would be too awkward in reality. They had been close a millennium ago, but that was then, things were different now, they were different now. After several moments of debating, Matthew reached over his siblings to lightly nudge Sweden's arm. The older man looked over at him, surprise lightly influencing his features as he met Matthew's eye.
"She still carves, you know? Last time I was at her place, there was a beaver figurine sitting on the entertainment center -- it looked almost exactly like that one too." Matthew told him, his voice so low that he wasn't entirely sure if Sweden actually heard him. Judging by his shift in expression, though, he must have. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he looked over to the image of Amelia before looking Matthew in the eye once more and giving him a small smile.
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A voice called out in the distance, "Come back inside, you two!"
The two sitting on the stump looked over to the doorway of the largest building in the small cluster. Finland was standing in the doorway, waving for them to join him inside.
Sweden straightened up, ruffling Amayeli's hair, "We'd better not make your mutsi mad." He told her as he stood up, lifting her up with him. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped as he brought her up to hold her snugly against his chest. Amayeli handed him the knife, and inspected her handiwork as she was carried towards the larger building. "We'll finish that later," Sweden murmured to her as he ducked through the doorway.
"I've been looking for you all morning," Finland pointed a finger at the girl in Sweden's arms, a mildly annoyed expression on his face.
"Sorry, mutsi," Amayeli apologized as Sweden set her down, "I just wanted to see what pappa was doing. Look at what I helped him make!" She proudly held the small wooden beaver up for Finland to see, a smile still stuck on her face.
Finland couldn't help but give in to a small smile as well, dropping his crossed arms with a resigned sigh. "It looks very nice, Ama. Now come here, your hair's a mess," He sat down on a chair and grabbed a comb as he beckoned Amayeli to sit on his lap. The girl did as she was told, putting her beaver on the table as her mutsi lifted her up to sit atop his lap.
As Finland dragged the comb through her tangled mass of dark curls, Amayeli looked around the room, eager to see what had happened in her absence. At the end of the room, she could see Iceland and her brother listening to her farbror Denmark animatedly telling them a story of one of his adventures. Her other farbror, Norway, stood on the side, correcting some of Denmark's exaggerated details with a mixture of amusement and irritation. Sweden glanced over at the storytelling as well while munching on the piece of bread he had swiped from the dagmal plate.
Amayeli noticed the pulling of the comb at her hair begin to slow. She furrowed her brows slightly, her mutsi couldn't be done already, he had only just gotten to the back of her head. Her brows furrowed further when she felt hands digging through her hair. Was there a bug in her hair? She didn't think there was.
"Berwald, come here," Finland's voice called out to the Swede next to them. He sounded... worried? No, that wasn't right... concerned, maybe? Mostly, though, he just sounded confused.
She saw her pappa's face scrunch up in concern at her mutsi's tone before he got up and walked over to be by his side. He gave a low hum as she felt him hold a piece of her hair that her mutsi had been holding.
"What's wrong?" She finally asked, tilting her head slightly in an attempt to look at one of the adults behind her.
The two looked at each other before Sweden moved the piece of hair to be within the little girl's field of view. She wordlessly took the piece of hair into her own fingers to inspect it. "It wasn't like that the other day," Finland murmured, not so much to either of them as it was to himself.
Amayeli turned the strand over in her hands. The once raven black curl was now a fiery red. Her brows furrowed further in confusion, what could make her hair change color to such a degree?
"It looks kind of pretty," Amayeli looked up to see Iceland inspecting the hair as well. All four of the others were now gathered around them, having noticed their peculiar behavior.
"Yes, Iceland, it does," Finland responded, "I suppose it doesn't really matter how it got there." With that, he resumed combing her hair, albeit a bit harder than before, as the others grabbed some bread and fruit from the dagmal plate. The morning continued on as normal, her brother handing her a pawpaw as he bit into one himself, the memory fading into blackness all the while.