Winter Rock

For one thousand years Winter Rock, the castle atop Mt. Cold, overlooked the village of Hetalia. It's ruler, the Demon Prince Ivan, never troubled the villagers or appeared before them. Then, on the night when they celebrated the Festival of the Moon, he appeared and came to claim Alfred, wanting to take him back to Winter Rock.

"What about Lietchten over there," Gilbert said, ribbing Alfred who ignored him. "She has her eye on you."

"Everyone has their eye on me," Alfred said cockily.

"Only because their eyes ache after staring at my awesome," Gilbert said, throwing an arm around Matthew and hugging him. "How about you?"

Alfred had forgotten his brother was there. That always seemed to happen. Most of the Hetalian villagers, minus the children and the elders who put them to bed, were out for the Winter Moon festival. Snow was on the ground, the stars were bright, and the full moon would soon reach the center of the sky.

Four bonfires burned around the tall Moon Pole that all those of seventeen years would dance around in a few minutes and make their debut as single and available adults. This was a mating ritual of sorts.

One Alfred F. Jones did not look forward to. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he wanted a girl to run up and claim him. He was rather confused about what he wanted.

I want out of this valley, he thought. Tall, snow-capped mountains bordered either side, silthouettes in the night. The nearest drew his eyes, as it always did and when Gilbert was distracted with Mattew, Alfred left them.

He wandered past the drinking and revelry, to the edge of the firelight and stared up to the top of Mt. Cold where sat the Winter Rock. A castle of many towers and pinnacles, each made of blacken stone and tile. No human had ever dared tried to go up there.

People said it was over a millennium old and a demon of terrible power, a son of Winter, lived there. He never bothered the villagers, beyond the discomfort in living in the shadow of a monster.

Violins and pipes were playing from the bonfires. People were singing and dancing and clapping and enjoying life. A life Alfred dearly wanted to be happy in, but always his gaze went to the Winter Rock to wonder of its unseen master.

Sometimes he would stare at for hours, studying its strange features. It called to him and, sometimes, he felt like something stared back at him.

What was its ruler, Lord Ivan, like? Was he lonely up there?

Alfred frowned, squinting as a strange purple glow lit the tallest tower. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was seeing things. There was a light coming from the tower.

"There you are!" Gilbert said, Alfred nearly jumping out of his skin when the Prussians hand clapped him on the back. "Don't stand out here all alone. Let's drink and be merry."

Alfred looked again to see no light coming from the Winter Rock, if it had been there. He let Gilbert lead him back. Rubbing his hands together. Yes, it was best to stay near the fire.

He had a sudden bad feeling. A feeling that something was about to happen.

They interlocked arms, forming a human ring around the Moon Pole. Frost crunched under their woolen boots as they marched to the left and then reverse to the right. The girls of seventeen were on the far side.

Soon the dance would begin to splinter.

Alfred had already seen a few girls looking his way, liking predators sighting their target. The circle widened as he began to let go of Gilbert and Matthew's hands. They were about to -

A whirlwind slammed into everyone. For a moment, Alfred did not know up from town as he was lifted off his feet and thrown backwards. Slamming hard into the snowy grass, he shook his head and got to his feet, shocked to see everything in pitch darkness.

All the bonfires, lanterns, and candles had gone out. The Moon Pole had snapped at the base and everyone was laying prone on the ground. They blubbered and wept.

"Matt?" Alfred said, clambering to his feet.

"Al," Matt groaned. "I can't get up."

"What do you mean?" Alfred rushed to the darkened figure he thought was Matt.

"I can't either," Gilbert groaned. Their shadowy shapes struggled on the ground, visible only by the full moon.

Why was Alfred able to stand?

A woman screamed from the other side and it took Alfred a moment to see why. His eyes widened and he fell on his rear, mouth agape. Floating figures in back robes with purple glowing eyes descended from the sky. They carried scythes and radiated darkness. They landed all around, one near Matt.

"Stay away!" Alfred warned, raising his fists, but quaking inside of these ghosts.

Ghosts! Why did it have to be ghosts?

One bonfire relit, a purple fire bursting from it, jetting several feet up before it settled. It cast a deep, eerie opal light on everyone who was trapped to the ground.

People sobbed and begged all around, praying for this evil to begone.

The beat of heavy wings, following by strong gusts, brought more cries as Alfred watched a great, black beast, a nightmare from the Winter Pit, descend and land in the center where the Moon Pole had been. The bonfire, within feet of it, defined its sinewy muscle and thin wings as it furled them.

A man, more handsome and beautiful than humanly possible, rode the creature. A man with a pale, violet aura and eyes that glowed with their own purple light. He was pale and iridescent as if starlight was his skin. His hair was almost-white and seemed made of moonlight.

He wore a long coat and a scarf was wrapped around his neck. His face seemed as gentle as his smile, but something was lacking in. Something that made Alfred feel cold in the pit of his stomach.

"Greetings, folk of Hetalia," the man said, smile never leaving his features. He spoke with an accent. His ghouls hovered interspersed among the crowd and Alfred was the only person who seemed able to move. He stayed near Gilbert and his brother. He would defend them. "Prosti, as we say in my language. I had no invite so I decided to join. You may call me Ivan."

There was an audible gasp from people. Alfred grabbed Matthew's hand squeezing. The Prince of Winter Rock had come here himself and brought his horrifying friends.

"Who is leader of this village?" Ivan asked, staring in the direction of Alfred. Alfred was sure his eyes were on him.

"I am," Ludwig called from a couple dozen feet away, straining to get up, but was stuck to the ground by the same force holding everyone else. "I am Ludwig. What brings the Lord of Winter Rock to our festival?"

Ivan's eyes flashed with that opal light.

"Someone I have long coveted. Today is the night to claim a mate who comes of age. I have come for my Sunflower."

Several girls sobbed and covered their heads. Alfred scrambled for what he could do.

"You won't take our daughters," Ludwig said.

"Perfect. I'm not here for a daughter," Ivan said and locked Alfred in his gaze. "I'm here for a son. One who will come with me to my home, Winter's Rock."

Alfred's stomach felt like it would fall out. Ivan had come for him.