Worldwide Secrets - The Rewrite

1: The Arrival of The Ancients

For once, things were actually getting done at an EU meeting. Well that's not entirely correct, but the meeting wasn't uncontrollable chaos. Nations were actually paying attention or pretending to pay attention to the speaker, and Germany's only had to yell once. So in a way, the meeting had been pretty successful. It's a shame that it had to be ruined.

"Oh Adelwulf! Look at them!" An unfamiliar voice coos, stopping the meeting in it's tracks. All heads turn to look at the origin of the voice, a woman with wavy, long, blonde hair and dressed in an ancient Gallic outfit. Beside her was a stern-faced man with long, straight blonde hair that held a couple thin braids. The man was dressed in ancient Germanic tribal clothing. "They're so precious and grown up!"

"Ja they are, Genovefa," the Germanic man - for there's no mistaking that accent - agrees, his eyes roaming over the gathered nations. A proud look entered said eyes when they landed on a few certain nations.

"Sir, Ma'am," Germany speaks up, not recognizing either unlike a few shocked nations. "I'm going to have to ask you to le-" Germany is cut off by two more people appearing out of thin air. This time, it's a woman with fiery red hair in wild curls wearing an ancient Celtic outfit. Accompanying her is a woman with long, platinum blonde hair in clothes one would find on someone from the ancient area of Kievan Rus.

"Mum?!" Scotland, here because he wants to annoy England and badger him about independence, exclaims in shock.

"Alistair!" The red-headed woman returns the greeting with a wide smile. The other woman scans the room, frowning when she can't seem to find what - or who - she's looking for.

"Vati?" Austria's reaction to the blonde man is delayed and confused, as if he doesn't believe the man before him is actually there.

"I knew you'd survive," the Germanic man says proudly, making Austria blush. When he was young, back before Austria was even a nation, Roderich was a sickly child, and there were several times where it seemed that he wouldn't reach nationhood.

Before anyone else could react, three more people appeared. One was a woman with wild blonde curls, though not as wild as the redhead's. She wore ancient Scandinavian clothing, like what the wives of successful Vikings would wear. Beside her was a man with short brown hair and three odd curls. He wore a white Roman toga with a red sash. The final member of the party is an Iberian woman with a kind face and long brown waves in her hair. She's dressed, as the others are, in ancient clothing.

"¡Mamá!" Spain cries out happily, tears streaking down his face. Portugal sits stunned, mouth agape but silent.

"¡Mijos!" The woman smiles, tears beginning to fall from her eyes as well.

"Nonno!" North and South Italy exclaimed, happy tears in both of their eyes. And never mind, North Italy is crying those tears now.

"My boys!" He shouts happily, opening his arms wide for a hug that the two Italians practically jump into.

"Why did I have to get stuck with Rome?" The Scandinavian woman asks, her accent prominent.

"Mor?" Denmark asks in surprise, eyes wide and emotional. The woman smiles proudly at him, making him burst into joyful tears as well.

"I don't understand," Germany says, looking desperately to Austria. "Who are these people?" However, before the other Germanic can reply, three more appear.

The first is a North African woman dressed in ancient Egyptian clothing fit for a Pharaoh. She has sleek black hair and her flowing dress is an off-white color. Beside her is a woman wearing a long Greek tunic. She has wavy brown hair that's pulled up into an elegant style, a few odd curls sticking out from her head. The final member of the group is a woman with straight, dirty blond hair dressed in old clothing from the Baltic region.