He saw the visions from the fire. A figure of an unfriendly face always glared at him but tonight the fire was unruly. Lithuania could see the uncomfortable look in Russia’s face as he sat next to him with a book of Russian poetry. Thursdays were the evenings where Russia requested Lithuania to read to him in his study. With his head down at the book but his eyes up away from the paper, Lithuania observed Russia’s mannerisms as the man took a handkerchief and dabbed it across his forehead.

It’s happening again...

“Is something wrong?” Lithuania asked in a plain tone.

“Nothing at all,” Russia replied as he tucked the handkerchief back into his breast-pocket. There’s a heavy sigh. “I’m just not feeling my best right now.”

“That’s unusual for a man like you. Are you sure you don’t want to retire early tonight?”

“Just continue on, please.”

Russia’s voice was strained on the final word and Lithuania did as he was told, as he learned quickly that angering this large burly man was a death wish.

Although at times, in Lithuania’s mind, death was truly better the option.

The following night, Russia did not sleep. Lithuania shared a room with Finland and the two men chose to peek through the door of Russia’s lavish sleeping chambers as he cursed the opened flames of his fire place. The candles had already suffered their demise as multiple white bits of wax decorated the marble floors.

“I don’t understand. What’s wrong with him?” Finland asked worriedly.

But Lithuania knows the truth. It’s not the first time this has happened and he is sure Russia is not alone. It’s all Poland’s doing from beyond the grave.

He is getting ready to rise.

In the following weeks, Russia seemed to have returned to his usual self. He was asked to accompany some of his King’s high-ranking military officers on a trip further west—and into territory once belonging to Poland and Lithuania.

Russia doesn’t put much thought into it and agrees to go. He left Lithuania in charge of running the home where all of the occupying nations lived. Some offered to help like Finland and Ukraine, others like Belarus and Moldova, not so much. As Russia walked the streets dressed in his military uniform, medals and all, everything appeared to be well despite the angry protests among the Polish citizens.

But it wasn’t long until the crowds were getting rowdier. And Russia ignored them. But his attention was grabbed as an officer yelled “Move!” as large pieces of wood lit in flames were being thrown into their path.

And there he saw it in the distance—the one who stood proudly in tattered clothing to lead the largest crowd. Russia could never forget those green eyes. He was a fool to think he could be truly gone.

“You are not welcomed here!”

Inside the palace, Lithuania smiled as he sat by the open window in his room. He had begun a new entry in his journal:

In the early hours of the morning, it finally happened. He’s returned to reclaim what is his.