I'm Dreki Ingólfurson

I woke up with no memories, no knowledge of where I was or how I got there. It was cold, and I was sat by the coast with the sea stretching out to as far as I could see. A boat was approaching me, speeding towards the land. I got up quickly and ran a few steps, only to stumble over a rock and land on my front. I looked behind me to see a powerful looking man stepped out from the boat and turn towards me. He took a deep breath in and looked around before erecting large pillars in the ground by the shore. I heard him call them 'Öndvegissúlur', or high seat pillars. He started walking confidently towards me, stopping to look around occasionally. I tried to scurry away on my hands but it was useless, as he caught me and pulled me up by my collar. His face was stern as he looked at me for a few long seconds before he pushed me away, still not shifting his deadly gaze.
"You're not a normal human, are you." It wasn't a question. He had made a statement, and he was right. I wasn't a human, I felt like something slightly different. "I've come across your type before, but you're still different. You can't be Iceland, because he already exists, you must part of him," This man knew me better than I knew myself. Who was Iceland? I felt like I should know him. "I shall call you..." He looked around, his gaze fixing on steam rising up from the hot springs nearby, "...Reykjarvík."

The man told me his name was Ingólfur Arnarson, and even gave me a proper human name - Dreki Ingólfurson. I was introduced to Iceland soon after meeting Ingólfur, and I must say, he's a bit on the boring side. We're cousins, and for some reason I'm the elder one, despite being founded after him. I'm not ashamed to say we had the odd argument or five in the time we were talking, but that's what close relatives do, right? Ingólfur wasn't very happy with my behavior, but I didn't really care, I knew he wouldn't mind in the long run. I was taught how to plow the fields that had been made in my area and I slowly became an area known for farmland. It wasn't much but I mainly spent my time on the fields or with Ingólfur. He kind of acted like my carer, but he as I got older he wasn't around as much. One day he left on his ship and never came back. A messenger told me he had died of old age. I didn't understand at first and continued happily farming but I noticed that the people around me grew older a lot faster than I did, I guessed it was because I was an area of land. It hurt to think Ingólfur wouldn't come back, after all, he had been the one to name me and basically build me up. I missed him and I still do.

There had been lots of people coming over from places like Norway, but one day there were people with funny accents. I liked the accents, it was just a little odd to hear their way of speaking. I knew they were countries instantly, they were speaking a language I understood. No one knows what the understanding of communication between countries is, but it sure is cool! The taller one, who had flaming red hair and auburn eyes walked slowly over to me. I smiled as a welcome, but he looked stern, so I turned away, slightly intimidated. He looked down at me (he was rather tall) and managed a smile. I grinned back, happy that he wasn't as scary as I first thought and decided to introduce myself,
"My name's Reykjavík," I don't know exactly when the 'r' disappeared from my name, it just did, "My cousin's Iceland, if you're looking for him," I kept my grin, being as friendly as possible. It's kinda lonely being an island so you have to open up to new people when you can. The red haired man nodded silently before introducing himself,
"I'm Scotland. My brother over there is Ireland," He said, gesturing to the ginger boy who was stood talking to the people from his ship in a language I didn't understand. I felt happy to finally be able to talk to someone new, so I offered to show Scotland and Ireland around what there was of Reykjavík.
"It's not a very large place, I mainly spend my time farming," I turned sharply to face them, making them stumble as they turned, "What's it like where you're from?" I felt curious. Maybe it was all built up and there were lots of buildings? Or what if there were 10 times the amount of people there were in Reykjavík? Or Iceland as a whole? Scotland laughed at my enthusiasm behind the question,
"There's not much, just a few wee villages and towns. Me brother's got the better side," I looked at him in confusion, how many brothers did he have? And why did he speak so weirdly? He smiled,
"You confused about anythin'?" He asked, turning to exchange a quick look with Ireland. I quickly regained my confidence and grinned as I spoke,
"How many brothers do you have? I only have one cousin and he's a pain as it is!" I chuckled, and smiled broadly as I saw Scotland copy my action.
"I have three brothers, including this one," He answered, pointing to Ireland before ruffling my hair. I felt my cheeks go warm but I didn't understand why. My stomach felt weird but I wasn't ill or anything. Ireland laughed at the confusion on my face when I put my hands to my cheeks,
"I think someone's embarrassed," He said cheerfully. I felt confused, but Scotland just smiled again,
"Leave 'im be, Ireland," He ordered, but chuckled all the same. Smiling, I offered to take them back to their boats before they left. We walked through the fields and small cottages, and as we approached the shore I looked at Scotland, who was smiling down at me. As we said goodbye he told me something only close friends or countries in relationships reveal,
"Me name's Allister, by the way! Allister Kirkland!" I ran until my feet hit the water, shouting after him,
"I'm Dreki Ingólfurson!"