Hey everyone! Here is my first Hetalia fic!

Italics are usually thoughts

Invincible

A heathen. A monster. A sinner. Satan. The devil himself, incarnated into a young boy with dirty blond hair, caterpillar-like eyebrows, and the most captivating poison green eyes;

Arthur of No-Name

It has been said that when Arthur was born into the village of Sinistra, his parents had gone deaf merely from a giggle of his demonic voice. When he cried, small earthquakes would shatter the very earth beneath the citizens' feet; his cries would tumble trees, and leave deep ravines that people said reached towards hell.

His eyes were the worst though.

If the citizens dared to spot his absinthe-colored eyes, they were left entranced, mindless, and nothing could break that trance for it was as if their very souls had been stolen from their bodies; left to drown in his eyes.

They had tried to kill him. Oh how they tried.

Better kill it while it's still a baby, a child, a youngling.

But each time someone tried, a disaster would befall him or her.

They would perhaps trip and fall down a cliff to their deaths the day before their plot.

They would perhaps go insane right on the spot and commit suicide.

Even when they tried to abandon him in the woods, he would appear beside them in the next moment, his eyes piercing them with an eerie, vacant stare.

So they let him be, they ignored his existence, they ran away when possible.

No one could mistreat him for fear of punishment, so instead they gave him his own hut to live in at age 5, set far into the confines of the forest, in hopes that eventually he would be slaughtered by the magical beasts that lived within.

They muttered to each other as they passed the boundaries of the forest.

Evil...

In the Capitol City, Dextris, the sun poured from the sky, a heat wave pounding down on the citizens below.

In the castle specifically, servants scurried about taking care of their daily duties. Maids took to cleaning the guest rooms or hanging the newly washed laundry on the

lines to dry in the hot air. Everyone was busy with their chores; some of them humming tunes under their breaths.

A little boy in particular, was shirking his duties. Sneaking out from under the clothed table, he ran out to the training grounds, eager to see if another fight was going on. Maybe he could learn some of their cool moves by watching.

He was shocked, however, to see that the normally cleared patch of earth and dust that made up the grounds was a total mess. Some of the trees that lined the training ground seemed to be in a horrible state, a couple trunks splinted.

Training equipment was scattered on the earth, branches and splinters littering the ground, bits of earth and boulders were upturned, and the boy spotted two figures rushing at each other.

The blond sent a swift kick to his albino mentor's head, but missed when the man ducked and tripped him.

Dirt flew into a dusty cloud and momentarily blinded Gilbert from Alfred's figure.

The glint of a silver dagger thrown from the cloud had Gilbert cursing and dodging to the side, his feet sliding on the dry earth.

"Damn Alfred!"

He flipped towards the abandoned dagger and twirling it momentarily around a finger, he charged into the dust.

There came the sound of metal versus metal.

The shadows of figures danced, accompanied by a few choice swearwords.

Alfred, eyes closed to avoid the dust, parried his stab and knocked his teacher's hand away. He was fully capable of combat without seeing, trained from his childhood to use his sense of hearing to overcome blindness.

Scowling, Gilbert, his eyes also closed, swung the dagger back down towards Alfred, the dust swirling from their quick movements. It nicked the blond on the shoulder, but he ignored it, ducking and kicking his teacher's stomach.

"Oof!"

In Gilbert's vulnerability, the blonde made to slash at his chest, his dagger about to impale the albino—but he hesitated.

A gloved hand charged with electricity was thrust into his face.

He jumped back and out of the dust cloud nearly avoiding the volts in Gilbert's gloves.

The blonds' eyes narrowed as Gilbert brought a crackling hand forth, smirking.

"Cheater!" Alfred shouted, narrowing his eyes.

The student then clenched his gloved fist and jumping up to gain momentum, cracked his fist into the earth. There was a loud rumble, as the ground was sent crumbling and cracking under his power. The earth suddenly launched Gilbert high into the sky, but he controlled his fall and grabbed onto a nearby branch, swinging himself up. Dirt was raining onto the ground, dust clouds roaming once again.

Gilbert cackled, "Why did you hesitate Alfred? Afraid you couldn't beat the awesome me?"

The blonde laughed loudly and shouted, "Because I'm a HERO! And heroes don't hurt their friends!" His face opened to his infamous grin and his sky-blue eyes shone with excitement.

Friend?

The albino smirked at Alfred's cocky assertion and jumped down from the tree, aiming a punch at his disrespecting student.

"More like you're a coward!"

BOOM

The loud, insane laughs of one Alfred and one Gilbert resonated through the open window.

Roderich sighed, his brow twitching in what was an aborted eye roll.

The two idiots were at it again.

It really was good fortune, however, that he could send the blond "hero" on a mission. He might get some peace and quiet after all.

He smiled at the thought, looking out the window to the merciless sun and then saw the rise of dust coming from the training grounds.

Roderich's smile turned into a frown immediately.

He placed down his cup of tea, bore his aristocrat eyes into the piles of paper that were unsigned, and then stood up, meticulously brushing imaginary dirt off his clothes. He proceeded to walk from his freakishly organized office and down the hallway.

Now to get to the throne room…

The area of the castle he was in was specifically for the royal court and their advisors. Being one of the head advisors, he had the luxury of his own office, quarters, and servants always did his bidding.

He strode down the halls. Paintings of the King and Queen decorated the walls, and expensive rugs were hung next to them, showing off exuberant wealth.

Not like the rugs were necessary, Roderich thought to himself.

He passed a few maids whom were dusting the vases on display and smiled to them, they blushed and fidgeted nervously as he walked past.

His smile disappeared the moment he walked past, however, slowly realizing that this was not the right way to the throne room. Frowning like his aristocrat background demanded, he turned back and saw that the maids had moved on to clean a different spot and were no longer in the hallway.

He cursed in his head (because he would never say it out loud), and then decided that he might as well just walk forward. Passing by some unfamiliar art piece, he tried to maintain his composure and deny the fact that he was once again hopelessly lost. Even though he had been Head Advisor for four years. Curse this defected sense of direction!

The hallways were lit from the sunlight that poured in from the windows.

I must be in the outer boundaries of the castle…

Tall, extravagant arches opened to the outside air and gradually Roderich recognized that he was close to the training grounds. He cursed to himself for walking around in a very large circle in the castle when he realized that the training grounds were extremely close to his office. Padding down the marble halls, he carefully lifted his dark blue robes so that they would not brush the stairway as he climbed down.

He closed his gray eyes and breathed in the hot air.

As he continued down the hall, he came across a young servant standing in front of a doorway, eyes wide and his jaw slack.

Roderich, curious, examined the boy. His hair was a messy, dirty blond; he had strangely thick eyebrows, and dark blue eyes.

The Head Advisor cleared his throat to get the boy's attention.

The servant jumped, his eyes still wide as he stared at the respected aristocrat.

"S-sir!"

"Hm, what could be so interesting as to skirt around your duties Mr…?"

"Peter of Arita!" He exclaimed, overly enthusiastic. But then quieted down when he realized who he was shouting to. Red dusted his cheeks and he fidgeted as the advisor stared down at him.

Roderich did nothing but give the boy a small smile and Peter relaxed.

"Now what was it that you were staring at Peter?"

The boy's eyes shone in awe and he quickly turned around and pointed out the open door.

"Look!"

The advisor spotted the completely wrecked training ground, and then quickly assessed the two Royal Guards, Alfred and Gilbert, still fighting savagely; both sporting insane grins as they parried each other's blocks with their favorite weapons.

Gilbert was holding his sword expertly, swinging up in a wide arc, and was quickly blocked by Alfred's long daggers.

The blond swiftly danced around the albino, twisting his body so that he was suddenly behind Gilbert. His teacher had expected this, so he immediately ducked and stabbed his sword behind him. Alfred yelped as the sword sliced the side of his thigh, and then quickly stumbled back, panting harshly. Gilbert smirked, brandishing his sword in one hand and summoned his element once again, channeling the electricity through his precious sword. He charged at the blond, and letting out a victorious cackle, swung his weapon towards Alfred.

The blond smirked, and the earth beneath Gilbert suddenly morphed into sand, causing him to lose balance and skid on his face.

The hero let out a shout and cheerfully placed his boot-covered foot onto his mentor's back. "Haha! I finally won! Serves you right!" He gloated happily and ignored Gilbert's muffled comment, "You are definitely unawesome right now."

Roderich looked behind him to see Peter still lingering, his face lit up in determination.

I'll be like that one day! The boy promised himself.

Roderich quickly shooed the boy away from the door and told him to go back to his duties.

As the boy left, the advisor turned his attention back to the two Royal Guards.

He snickered behind his hand at Gilbert's undignified position, and then began to clap, walking out to the grounds.

"Congratulations Alfred, you have finally managed to defeat your 'wonderful' teacher." He could see Gilbert twitch under Alfred's foot at his sarcastic "wonderful."

Alfred let his boot up and offered a hand to his teacher.

As the he took Alfred's hand and got up, Gilbert scowled at Roderich, sending hate through a fiery glare, and then turned back to his student. He smiled proudly at the blond.

Numerous scratches littered Alfred's body, blood flew freely from a cut on his forehead, dripping over an eye and his clothes were torn in several places and dirt covered him from head to toe. But he was wearing a large grin that showed all of his pearly white teeth.

"Good job kid!" He clapped Alfred on his wounded shoulder purposefully, causing the blond to wince. Gilbert then started to walk towards the castle to get cleaned up. He had to tell his brother, Francis, and Antonio the good news!

The reminder of his wounds made Alfred lose his high from winning, and with tired eyes, he noted that Roderich seemed to be waiting for him.

"So what's going on Rody?" The Head Advisor's eye twitched involuntarily, and he had to hold back a scathing retort.

"My name is Roderich, not Rody, not Erich, nor any other ridiculous name you come up with."

"Alright, Rody."

The aristocrat's eye twitched again.

He attempted to calm himself.

"I was about to go to the throne room, and I was passing by when…I happen to notice that you two were making quite a commotion… and so I came to lecture you about the mess you've made of the training grounds." Roderich lied to cover his actual reason for being there.

"Um, but Rody, the throne room is on the other side of the castle-"

"But since I am here, I have a message for you." The advisor blushed lightly and interrupted Alfred

"A message?" the blond piped up, curious.

"Indeed, the Royal Court has a mission for you."

"Really? I accept!"

"You have not even heard what it is yet."

"I'll do it!"

"Alfred—"

"You can count on me!"

"Alfred of—" Calm Roderich, calm.

"No need to thank me, I am a HERO after all!"

"Alfred of Dextris!"

"Yes Rody?"

The aristocrat pinched his nose, which uprooted his glasses slightly, and breathed as deeply as he possibly could.

"There have been reports of strange happenings in the City of Sinistra. People continue to disappear, and the citizens there are frightened out of their minds. In truth, they have sent many reports of problems to Dextris, however every time we send soldiers over, they report back that the city is prospering and quite normal." The Advisor pushed up his frames, and sighed in slight frustration.

"This will be the last time we cater to Sinistra's whims. Most likely, you will have to do nothing. So think of this as a…rest of sorts."

"Alright! Time for a well-deserved break!" Alfred cheered loudly.

Pure, simple, white. The walls opened into tall windows, letting sunlight glitter through the arched glass. The stained glass that framed the windows casted series of colors on the beautiful paintings that hung on the walls. The floors were covered in warm, sun-worn lucis wood. The wood came from a Lucis sentient tree that if it took favor upon you, would give some of its precious, pure wood. The wood itself was said to have magical properties, that would bring happiness and good fortune to those who had it in their home; fitting for a church.

Father Feliciano and Father Lovino knelt in front of the altar, clasping their hands together. Their pure white robes brushed the dusty ground, and their heads were bowed down, honey and amber eyes closed.

The gold crosses that hung around their neck glistened in the sun, and the red sashes that fell from their shoulders hovered above the wooden floor.

The guards, which were there to escort them back and forth, did not dare disturb their prayers. They looked on in awe as they began to see the siblings glow a soft white.

"Guards."

A voice echoed from what seemed to be the confines of the walls came from Lovino's mouth. The guards jumped and turned their attention to the older sibling.

"Thank you for your services, now please leave us."

The guards scrambled out of the church quickly, afraid that they would somehow disturb their peace if they did not leave quickly.

As soon as the clunk of the guards' armors were gone, the brothers opened their eyes slowly and stared at each other, knowing what they saw.

Amber met honey, and they could both see the worry and sorrow deep in each other's eyes.

"Ve~Lovino…" Feliciano's eyes started to tear as Lovino looked away from his sniffing brother, tears beginning to form in his eyes as well. But he refused to cry.

He heard the sniffing from his brother escalate into small sobs, the tears wracking his thin frame.

Damnit…

Silently, tears of his own began to trickle down, creating small damp spots on his priestly robes, but he didn't care.

He pulled his younger brother into an embrace, holding him tightly as he let his own sobs escape from his mouth.

"I know Feliciano."

He stared at the statue of their god, Coracinus that stood on the altar, his pose calm yet powerful; the raven standing on his shoulder standing regal.

Lovino closed his eyes.

"I know."