America didn't know what to think at first as he stood there. Gawking at the sight of so many books, glass cases and the burning lights that sent auras and waves of warmth around him.

It was an enormous place, and America stumbled slightly as he turned around to look up above the door, where pillars of marble and white stone stood tall and proud with light and dark green tendrils wrapped around them. Climbing up to the looming ceiling which seemed so far away, and spreading across it with golden flowers which bloomed with delicate petals. Almost glowing amongst the orbs of light.

He listened to the gentle humming of the light, and then the rustling of Kazakhstan's feathers as he stepped over to him, a wing arching around him almost comfortingly. A smile on his face, resting a hand on one of America's shoulders.
"Do you like it?"He asked gently, his eyes glowing softly.

America grinned and nodded, "yes!" He almost exclaimed, gripping the blazer of his uniform in his moment of excitement. Though it wasn't long until his smile faltered and he looked up at the admiral with a confused look, "but... why did you bring me here?" He asked curiously, trying his hardest to read the expression and unwritten words on Kaz's face- but to no avail.

Kazakhstan hummed, eyes narrowing and glinting, "there is something that I'd like to show you and tell you. But I must think first for a bit. To contemplate my options and ideas before I come to a final decision."
The Admiral's words were strong and confident and even America could notice the tone and the power that rang through his voice.
The voice of a man who had fought and dragged his wings through bloodshed and the death of what must have been thousands. And so he only nodded in vague understanding.

After a bit of awkward glancing around and a quiet moment between the two, Kazakhstan let America go off to wherever he wished. And the young country took no time to hesitate as he ran into the depths of the looming mass of a library.
He passed the glowing orbs of lights and pressed his face and fingers up against the glass cases that protected the numerous scrolls, vases, trinkets and necklaces that were being displayed magnificently. Staring in awe as he leapt between the cases to stare at their contents.

Even the smell of what seemed like a million herbs and spices started to become a strange yet calming craving to him, and the sounds of the flicking of pages and the distant beating of wings made his heart flutter with happiness. This place was so euphoric and beautiful; a place that made America doubt whether or not he was even awake or just experiencing an unimaginable dream.

But then there was the sound of clicking and light scraping that caught the country off-guard, and he glanced around cautiously and curiously, raising a brow. The sound dragged his gaze upwards and he almost flinched at the sight of a gang of crows that were perched on top of a few bookshelves. Cocking their heads to the sides and furrowing their wings, occasionally rubbing their beaks against the wood that surrounded them.
And though they were free birds, they made no cries or songs to each other- more moderate and tranquil like the library that they practically ruled.

America stared for a few minutes, a smile on his face as he watched them wean and clean their feathers with gentle strokes of their beaks. Envying their elegant talons and their strangely angelic wings- angels of death perhaps? Or the angels of the secrets and catacombs of the library that he stood in. A dream that had already sat in his head ever since his early memories and days of childhood; to see the clouds and to watch the burning sunset from a cliff or a mountain. To feel that cold mountain breeze and relish the clear air. To watch the birds fly into the horizon and to almost experience that feeling of flight.
The freedom and the views and sites that it brought.

The birds reminded him of Kazakhstan and his beautiful set of wings, and he couldn't help but think of the stoic and powerful Admiral who sat on his peak of power in the Kingdom. As America liked to see it; ruling the skies like a Prince.

He sighed quietly before he turned and walked deeper into the library.

Kazakhstan rubbed at his eyes with a small frown. Wings flicking and rustling behind his back as they folded and tucked against his uniform and the arch of his spine.
He held a book in his gloved hands, and he scowled at it softly, slipping a hand down the cover and frowning before he shook his head and began to take a stroll around the library. To hunt down the boy who was busy exploring the place with undoubtful excitement and happiness.

Every step he took was heavy and shaky as if he carried an ominous weight or thought on his shoulders and mind. Anxiously pulling his mask back over his mouth in an attempt to allow himself to calm down if only a little.

The book he held looked ancient. With cracked leather, golden embroidery, string work, and delicate and stained pages that almost stuck out of the book- trying to escape and unleash the sinful words and images they held close to their cold surfaces.
He winced at the sight of it and he gritted his teeth with a shiver, glancing around as the orbs of light that followed him flicked and ebbed lightly. Almost trembling as they floated around him before they went as cold as ice. Turning into nothing but thin orbs of stone. Immediately collapsing and smashing against the floor, shattering and throwing shards at Kazakhstan's boots.

It seemed like all the light that had once kept him safe, secure and warm had vanished from the world. His world. And he narrowed his eyes in the attempt to keep himself calm and confident with himself, wings slowly spreading to arch around him in a protective manner. Feathers and body cold and stiff with anxiety and a million other emotions and feelings Kazakhstan was being dragged through.

He could see the dark wisps of shadows crawling around the corners of the bookshelves. Sinking into the gaps between every book and into the cracks that had spread over the wooden shelves for over what may have been thousands of years. And then the voices followed.

Whispers and distant cries echoed through the library. Past the books and scrolls and ancient artefacts that sat alone; dusty and yet in perfect condition.
Sure, the admiral had heard enough voices throughout his life. From those both dead, alive and in-between.
But these voices were a different kind. A different hybrid of evil and greed and pain.

And they scared him.

He could sense a weight on his shoulders, and his single pupil shrunk back in terror as the voices began to scream and cry out to him. Closer and closer until he was hugging the cursed book to his chest until he felt like he was no longer in the library, and instead in the middle of a dark, endless abyss. It was confusing. With the voices calling his name and the eyes slowly appearing amongst the iniquitous black that towered around him like monsters. Their pupils lean and sharp at the sight of him.
The scene of an Admiral who had started to crumble under their threatening stares with nothing but a terror-filled book to give him comfort, the air thinning and straining his lungs as the voices grew louder and louder and louder until-

"Kaz!"

The light returned to his eyes as he felt himself almost fall back into his body, met with the sight of America running over to him; still engulfed and overwhelmed by the library's beauty and magnificence. The young country was grinning and his eyes shone with something that opposed every emotion and feeling that was running through the Admiral's heart and now haunted mind.
But the taller forced a smile and his eyes squinted when America finally stopped in front of him

"Had a good time, I see," Kazakhstan hummed quietly, tilting his head and wincing somewhat at the movement. Debating on whether or not the shadows and voices he had just heard were even real and just a chaotic scene made by his own imagination.

America smiled brightly and nodded his head, "yes!" He exclaimed, nearly bouncing on the spot until he spotted the ancient-looking book that sat in the grip of Kazakhstan's arms and hands. He rose a brow, "what's that?"

The Admiral watched for a moment and sighed, rolling his shoulders to get rid of the tense feelings that had been building up in the muscle. "It's... something that shouldn't be held around carelessly," Kaz mumbled as he tightened his grip, America still staring at the book- the strange markings that were embedded into the aged and tired material.

The younger country took a small step closer, entranced by the gold thread and the dark and ominous beauty the book held until he was struck by a wave of screams and voices. Dragging with pain, fear and dangerous violence that shook him on the spot.
He yelped and stumbled back, wincing and gritting his teeth as the sounds immediately died down with the distance he made between himself and the damned object.
"I..."
"Hear stuff, yes. I do too." Kazakhstan grumbled as he turned and beckoned a finger over his shoulder. Almost ordering the younger to follow him when he started to walk down an aisle of books and scrolls.

It wasn't like Kazakhstan to act blunt and possibly hostile towards America or anyone in the castle, but he accepted the thought that the book he held had something to do with his change in mood and body language. Noticing the tenseness in his arms and the stiffness in his legs- the constant ruffling and twitching movements his wings made and the anxious flicking of his ears. Searching for any threatening sounds from within the library.

He hadn't gone this way, but he held back the urge to glance around and pause at every new ornament and scroll he saw sitting on display. Keeping calm and focused.

They entered a room of cold marble. And America presumed it could and was previously beautiful with the magnificent stonework and arches that loomed over them.
But embedded into the floor and the pillars of stone were deep claw marks and dark black stains that seemed to have smashed against the arches. Cracks and crevices visible to America's eyes.

Kazakhstan stood in the middle of the room, frowning upon the sight of the damage and then the cold and silver chains that hung from the far ceiling. Dangling lifelessly against the walls like limp vipers.

And that was when America began to question why he had been brought here.

Bookshelves had been built into the walls- although some were crooked and some of the planks that held them together had collapsed with age and the damage of whatever had been previously... contained here. There were no windows- the only few sources of light being a couple of pairs of smaller orbs of lights and candles that had already begun to melt onto the wooden desk that sat in the far corner.

Kaz rubbed at his eyes and mumbled something to himself, turning to face America.
"A few years ago... something bad happened... something horrible and heartbreaking to some of us who live in this castle," he said, looking up and around as if being able to see the whole entirety of his home through the thick, scarred walls. "Some of us had to sacrifice energy, love, magic and blood. Some of us sacrificed the walls that we had built in our heads to protect ourselves from what we feared."

He gazed down at the book nonchalantly, solemn-faced as he heaved out a pained grumble. Wings ruffling anxiously.

"This book... contains what we had to destroy. And if handled incorrectly, the same mistakes could be made again.

...America.
You asked about Russia and Ukraine. Of their other... bloodlines and species. You asked how Russia was made King despite not having only singular, pure werewolf blood.
And though you haven't been here for long, I feel like it's time you began to work things out and be told of what has been hidden from you."
A cold and quiet smile from the Admiral before he beckoned a hand to the chair that sat between two bookshelves, the young country almost immediately bounding over and sitting down. Gripping his knees like he usually did and chewing on the inside of his cheek- not sure on what to feel or think of the moment as he watched Kazakhstan calm himself once more.

The room went cold and the orbs of light flickered as Kazakhstan strangely sat on the floor, wings spread out around him. Feathers twitching and brushing against the cold stone beneath him. Delicately laying the book before him.

"Russia and Ukraine are half-werewolf and half-demon," he admitted to the smaller who's spine locked up at the fact.

America swallowed hard and stared at Kazakhstan in disbelief and shock and confusion. Fidgeting nervously with his hands.

It wasn't uncommon for people to spread rumours about the violent actions and horrible creatures that demons were and had become. How they killed and ripped apart lives all for their pure enjoyment and nothing else.
How they could sometimes take the forms of animals and monsters and other disturbing entities and how some were cursed with other types of magic that struck nothing but fear and terror in the lives of mortals. And yet, America frowned upon the immediate thoughts he had gotten of demons and he glanced away.

He was wrong about the violence of werewolves- after all, he had met werewolves like Ukraine and Belarus who were kindhearted, gentle and comforting.
So maybe he was wrong about demons- or at least some of them?

"You've seen Russia's demon form already, America. In the doorway that one day and in the forest during that wretched storm. When you ran after him."

America gulped and sighed, "of course... How could I be so naive and stupid, of course, it was him." He muttered to himself. Annoyed at his own stupidity and blindness at the thought.

"It's a dangerous form," Kazakhstan said as he trailed a thumb over the cover of the book, swirling it over the threadwork and the cracks. "Demons and half-breeds have to learn to be able to control them. Or else they will go mad, insane and hurt the people that they love.
But thankfully... Russia has learned the art of controlling the beast within him," a smile from the Admiral. Both relieving and reassuring to America who listened intently, sitting on the edge.

"But... Ukraine..."
The smile shifted to something sad and shaky.

"Ukraine has always had problems with his demon forms and his demon blood in general.
Always too hesitant and scared to hurt people. Much rather wanting to be kind and soft towards every one...


And that's what made him weak."

America flinched, and he nearly gasped when Kazakhstan narrowed his eyes coldly and flipped the book open. Dust shooting out from the gaps between every aged and stained page. An immediate sour smell emitting off of the book.

"The demon form... took over him one day.
Clouded his mind and took all control of what he had. Turning him into the one thing he never wanted to be.

A threat to his family and the people he loved."

He slowly began to flick through the pages, eyes running over the writings, drawings and symbols that had been scattered across the paper almost chaotically.

"His flag changed. His demeanour. Everything.

And he began to destroy things. Began to get closer and closer to hurting those who lived here.
Almost killed Belarus despite her attempts to calm him down and keep him safe from himself. Was able to rip Russia apart substantially when he was being restrained and held down."

America watched and listened, struggling to imagine a violent creature that had come from Ukraine and his own blood and mind. Biting his lip as his mind began to become conflicted between the things he was being told and every act of kindness Ukraine had ever made towards him. His smile, his brilliant eyes. His gentle ways...
And now the image of a boy who was thirsty for violence and uncaged bloodthirst.

Once Kazakhstan had finally stopped at a page he stared at it with wary eyes, wincing.

"We panicked. And so we did the only thing we knew we could do.
Removed as much demon blood and soul from him..." The Admiral's voice broke and for once in America's time here, he watched as he began to trembled and tear up, a shadow cast over his face as tears began to roll down his cheeks. Gritting his teeth as he glared at the page that lay open in front of him.
"We..." His voice trembled and shook and he struggled to talk. But he forced himself to calm down; squeezing his eyes shut and gripping onto the floor before he opened his eyes once more and breathed shakily.

"We used this book... A book of spells and curses and so many stupid and horrible things which I wish never existed," he hissed harshly, pupil sharp and small. Glowing darkly in the dimly lit room. Ashamed of what he had done to his sibling. An act that had gone against every burning protective instinct that he held in his head and heart. His face holding nothing but an unwavering emotion of guilt, regret and despondency.
"It was a painful process for all of us. And we had to keep Ukie chained and restrained through the whole thing..."

America slowly looked up to the wall and ceiling where the chains were hanging from. Swallowing hard at what had been tied there before. Imagining the horrid sounds and sight of pain on... he shook his head.

"I regret dragging him through so much pain but... it worked... And now he's safe from that threat of what used to be in him." Kazakhstan breathed and slammed the book shut, covering a hand over his face and rubbing at his eyes in irritation. "It worked and that's all that matters."

The young country kept quiet, trying to think of what to say and what to do. But he couldn't muster a sentence or a word, and so he stood up and walked over to where Kazakhstan sat kneeling. Crouching down to reach over and rub his back gently. Slow comforting movements.

"Ukraine is safe now. And that's all you should focus on."

Kazakhstan moved to gaze up at America. Eyes still full of tears and cheeks still stained. Ears flat. And he sat up and reached over to place a clean hand on America's cheek, his gaze softening for a moment.

"You America... You are a sweet and wonderful person...
You're the kind of person we need... not just because of how kind and strong and brave you can be, but of what you are on the inside as well.

You are my student. You are my friend.

You are our ally. You are a shadow speaker.

And you are the Prince of a mighty kingdom.

And that is exactly why we need you on our side."

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FUCK

c':
sorry for the really slow updates-

I just finished exams and have been absolutely exhausted these days but I was finally able to finish this chapter

I don't think it's as good or as detailed as I hoped it would have been- but I guess it's good enough

I hope you guys understand if it isn't too good c': I'm struggling </3

Quick doodle of my persona (without the dark parts of their face cuz I'm v lazy)

Me when I read all your wonderful comments, support and theories:

c:

Word count: 3350