The Secret

Chapter 19

Russia's condition didn't get better. As hours passed, he only seemed to worsen.

"America, you need to calm down."

America looked up to Romania. He kept his face clear, not glaring at his friend as he wanted to. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. "So, you've got a spell. It's going to reverse all of this, bring Rose back."

"Reverse, yes. Bring her back, sort of."

His eyes opened and stared at Romania. "Please define soft of," he said, keeping the time of his voice in check.

"When I sat the spell will reverse all of this, that is literally what it will do if all goes according to plan."

America squinted his eyes. "Are you talking about time travel?"

"Not exactly?"

"That what exactly is it?"

Romania scowled at him. "America, I know you're going through a lot right now, but you need to stop focusing your anger on me."

"I'm not," he said, his voice stern. He opened his mouth to say more, but Romania beat him to it.

His serious expression broke and his voice broke in a shout. "Then stop glaring at me!" His body went stiff as he inhaled deeply and let it out. "Blame someone else, because this isn't my fault." His voice softened. "We need to focus."

America stared at his friend. Maybe he had been a bit harsh. He just didn't know what to do with himself. He was slowly losing everyone he cared for. Romania didn't deserve this, though. America hadn't ever learned the trade of sorcery, but he could only imagine how scarce ingredients might be. He finally took a deep breath. "What do we need for this spell?"

Romania looked away from America. He seemed to focus his attention on an empty bit of wall, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Hey." America moved, trying to get a good look at his face. "What's up with you?"

Romania looked up. "What's up with me?"

America ignored the statement. "You're acting weird." Romania didn't look away for several moments.

"I can get most of the ingredients from the conference hall. I won't take that long to cast, we just have to find somewhere we won't be disturbed." He spoke quietly, as if he rather be gone and somewhere else.

"How long is this going to take?"

Romania muttered something that America didn't understand. He turned around and walked out the door without a word.

"Romania!" He followed out of the room.

He stopped just before the front door, not turning around. "Meet me at the conference hall tomorrow," he said bluntly. Before America said anything else, Romania opened the door, closing it behind him after he walked out.

What was up with him? Granted, this was a lot. Their whole world was changed, and now the only way to get it back was to reverse time itself. He sat himself in a chair, his heads resting in his hands.

-

Romania stopped in the hallway. He suddenly realized that he hadn't been very watchful coming in. He cursed at himself, picking his feet back up and continuing down the hallway. His steps were muffled in the stagnant air. He missed his home. In this world, even in his own country, it felt wrong, off. He just wanted to fix things, get them back to how they should be. He only wished America would be a bit more cooperative. His attitude was making everything more difficult.

Romania walked down the hallway until he found the utility closet he was looking for. He unlocked the door and swung the door open, the quiet sounds magnified in the quiet air. He stepped inside, pulling a chain that illuminated the room by a lightbulb above him.

In the back of the closet, Romania crouched down to see a lower shelf filled with glass bottles and small containers. Each one contained a different colored liquid or a different kind of substance. He took only two things; a small bottle of clear liquid and a smaller container with what the average person would mistake for birch leaves. He stood up, carefully placing the two items in his pockets. He grabbed a roll of paper towels before walking out of the closet. He pushed the door closed and locked it just as he heard a voice approach from only a short distance down the hallway.

"What are you doing?" they asked curiously.

Romania looked up to see Vasska coming his way. Romania held up the roll of paper towels. "Just needed something to clean up with."

His opposite grinned. "Another spell gone wrong?"

Romania gave him a faint smile. "Something like that. The meeting is tonight, yes?"

Vasska nodded. "I've got work to do, but I'll see you then."

Romania nodded in agreement before the two headed in opposite directions. He was thankful that he was a better liar than his opposite.
He went to his own private room in the building and locked the door behind him. The paper towels were put on a side table with the two containers from his pockets. He took his coat off and tossed it on a chair before starting to get to work. He pushed the coffee table from the middle of the room to sit against the far wall. He made space in the center of the room, all the furniture pushed up against the walls.

He opened the container and ground the ingredients with his fingers before pouring in some of the liquid. With the muddy liquid, he went to each wall and drew a small symbol with the concoction. He had just finished the final sigil when his phone went off. The screen lit up with a text from America. Romania placed the container on the table top and tore a paper towel from the roll, wiping his fingers off. For a type of spell that was warned against in most every book, it was extremely simple for Romania to put together one of his own.

Walking back to his room with his friend, it was silent except for the sound of their steps. Romania had half-expected for him to have a dozen questions about the spell. Instead, he walked silently, his eyes straight forward until they reached the room, Romania closing the door behind them.

"Stand in the center of the room," Romania commanded.

America did as he was told before speaking. "So, how does this work?"

Romania picked up the container and tipped his fingers in the mix. "This will go on your forehead and hands. The sigils will resonate with the others around the room and- poof," he said, not able to think of another word on the fly.

"Poof?"

He nodded and drew the same sigil on his skin and on his own before handing the concoction to America.

"What do you want me to do with that?"

"I can't exactly draw the sigil on my own forehead," he said plainly.

America nodded hesitantly before taking it. He took some of the mix and painted the sigil on Romania's forehead. "There."

Romania took the container and put it on the table before looking back to America. He muttered a few words under his breath. The room began to spin and he focused on the place he wanted to go to. The scenery rushed past them, people moved and it could hardly tell where they were before he stopped speaking.
The scenery suddenly stopped and they were in the conference room, many other nations gathered around the long table.

America looked to Romania, his eyes wide with excitement. "It worked!"

Italy was the first to say something. "Where did you get the face paint?"