Never- Part 2

    



    Frisk grabbed her head and curled into a little ball on the flowers. Just above her a small golden star hovered, twinkling. She gazed at the spec of existence, feeling power ebbing from it. Her fingers lightly brushed the star and gold burst over her eyes. She shook her head to clear the blots. It... All that power just rushed into her. Odd. Her fingertips tingled and energy pulsed through her limbs.  She flinched at the light tap of something falling onto her chest.

    It was a card with the number zero embolized in gold on it. The slip depicted a figure about to walk off a cliff, eyes upturned to the heavens with open arms while a dog tried to pull him back from the edge. Frisk felt a voice from deep within her. “Your journey has begun.” It was almost her voice but there was something off about it. Regardless, she felt determined to complete her quest. Asriel was waiting for her and she won’t let him down!

    Though the yellow blossoms on which Frisk lay clung to her hair and tunic, she managed to disentangle herself from the patch and venture in the direction of the next beam of light. This place had a peaceful feeling to it, each of her steps echoing softly back to her. Magic buzzed in the air and she took deep breaths. A giddy smile pulled at her lips and she found herself laughing in spite of Justice’s ominous warning. She, Frisk the hated, the damned, the loveless; she was here, looking upon sights and absorbing sounds that no human had ever experienced before. Breathing in the same space as literal gods of creation.

    Her awe turned into a burning itch to see it all, and Frisk flitted from one stone to the next, searching for something new to discover. The walls were lined with pillars that held up the world’s roof. Glowing channels of starlight dripped into the cave just like what the Riverperson steered his boat in. Curiosity drew Frisk toward the shimmery liquid. It felt like water against her hand and she collected a small pool in her palms.

    Frisk sipped the starlight, humming with joy at the flavor. It was much like the spring water she drank from the woods only it had a sweetness that filled her soul with warmth. She gasped, pleased at the taste. A lilting laugh wisped over the stones sending a chill needling up her spine. Frisk whirled around on her heels, eyes darting about to locate the source.

    There, in a patch of stony soil, was a golden flower with dark, shining dots for eyes and a broad, friendly smile. “You’re new to the heavens, ain’t ya?” The strange plant winked at her.

    She approached the creature with some level of hesitance. It certainly seemed nice enough. “Yes, actually. A god sent me on a quest.”

    “Really? Golly, that sounds amazing. I wish I could have such an honor.” The flower danced on his stem, smiling kindly up at her. She grinned shyly back and knelt down. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Flowey, Flowey the flower. Howdy!” He stuck out a leaf to her.

    “Frisk.”  She gently pinched the greenery between her pointer finger and thumb, giving it a light shake.

    “Well, Frisk, someone ought to tell you how things work around here, and as your new bestest friend I will be more than happy to show you.” The world ripped into darkness around her and with a searing tug a tiny red heart appeared above her chest. She knew what it was on sight. Her soul. This creature, Flowey, had just pulled out her soul! “This is called a confrontation, it’s how we talk to one another.” The flower giggled at her distressed face, waiting for her to relax a bit before continuing. “That little red heart is your soul, it’s weak right now but~,” a ring of tiny glowing seeds appeared around the flower’s head, “with these... um... ‘friendliness pellets’, you can gain a higher LV. What is LV you ask, well it stands for LOVE of course!”

    Flowey was dancing on his stem again. She had heard that pause, and Frisk remembered what Justice told her about the heaven’s human policy. Any small measure of trust she had for the flower was entirely gone.

    “Here, run around and collect as many as you can!”

    When the white magic seeds flew her way, Frisk ducked and rolled, dodging out of their path.

    “H-Hey you missed them.” The flower seemed nervous or perhaps annoyed. “Don’t worry we can try again.” More pellets flew at Frisk. Her wings tucked firmly to her back as she ducked and weaved out of the way. This time Flowey’s smile dropped, replaced by a glare. “You think you’re so clever, yOu IDioT!!” In an instant she was encircled by a ring of lights, sparking and burning as Flowey’s face warped into something horrible. The petals oozed and wore ragged, red sparked from his eyes. His smile pulled a tore at his rounded, little face, fang-like teeth glinting beneath the warped features. “Whatever, I’ll just kill you and take your soul for myself.”

    It was in a moment of instinct Frisk shot up into the air. She didn’t escape all the pellets whizzing after her, crying out as several shot through her limbs. There was no physical mark of the damage but the light of her soul flickered violently. Is this what it was like to fight a god? Was she going to die? Flowey laughed from beneath her, long thorn covered vines ripping up from the ground. They seized at her, caging her in. She wasn’t able to get enough height with the cave above her.

    Before Frisk could think of an escape, one of Flowey’s vines ripped through her wing. Frisk’s eye shot fully open and she screamed silently in agony. It hurt worse than the rock. This was a real wing, flesh and blood, not just light. Her soul dimmed to the point of going out and she plummeted to the ground. There was a burst of flame, a wave of warmth passing over her chilled body, and then all was darkness.

    She was vaguely aware of large warm arms wrapping around her frail shoulders, lifting her up into a motherly embrace. “Oh dear, a human and one so terribly young... You’re hurt... Wings?” It was a gentle voice tickling at her mind before that final slip. Her body limp, her consciousness drowned in the tranquil dark far removed from the pains in her body and soul. She was warm, safe. Frisk slept content and without a care.

    ...

    She jolted sharply, rushing to sit up as her back shrieked at her in protest. Everything ached dully, though not as bad as she expected from a near death experience and... that fall. The malicious flower’s grin flashed through her mind, phantom pain biting into her wing and shoulder. Frisk pulled the damaged feathery appendage into view. Aside from a slight skewing and bend to some feathers around where she had been wounded, there was not a trace of injury. The limb tingled slightly when she touched it, like the brush of magic coming from her necklace.

    She explored her other injuries, the areas where those seeds had torn through her body. There were splotches of discoloration, bruising, but no blood. Her fingers danced over a soft fabric wrapped over her shoulders. Bandages. They intersected at the base of her wings, expertly tied so as not to interfere with flight, not that Frisk thought it prudent to try flying again yet. Her brow knitted into a tight line as she took stock of her surroundings. This isn’t a dungeon, it’s a child’s bedroom... or at least what she had seen of children's rooms. She never had anything so... clean before.

    Toys were neatly packed into a trunk at the foot of a rather large bed. She shifted her weight, noting how the mattress wasn’t straw, but rather soft, almost like how she imagined clouds would feel. The sheets were layers of smooth silks and woven fluffy blankets. There was a motherly touch to the bedding that implied it was all hand knit. A large door, open just a crack, split warm, golden light over the orange-red carpet. A row of stuffed animals rested between the bed and the wall, each nearly as large as Frisk herself. They looked well loved despite a hint of dust on their faux fur. A wardrobe sat next to the bed with a corner lamp on the opposite side.

    The lamp didn't look like anything Frisk had seen before, a small magic flame flickering within though it didn’t cast any light. There was another, similar lamp resting on a table on the opposite corner. A bookshelf and small trunk stood between the lamps next to the wardrobe.

    Frisk swung her legs over the bed’s edge, noticing a small plate resting on the floor nearby. On the plate was a pie and a tiny note. “You are safe here my child. Please eat and regain your strength. -Toriel” The human child read over the elegant script three more times before finally acquiescing to the request. She cautiously placed the plate on her lap, taking a small bite. Rich buttery and cinnamon flavor burst over her tongue and she let out a small hum at the taste. Frisk didn’t know food could even taste this good! As she settled down to eat more the human felt the aches melt out of her body. Her wings stretched out behind her, feeling stronger and... looking a bit larger? Odd.

    “Toriel’s so nice isn’t she.” Frisk jumped at the sound of Asriel’s voice. The young goat god sat cross legged on the bed next to her. He had a soft smile on his muzzle and a shine in his eyes that entranced her. She could only nod, not fully grasping how much Toriel was risking to keep her safe. “How are you feeling?”

    She tested her wings and flexed a bit, really considering the root of his question. “Surprisingly well. Actually,” she took another bite of pie and chewed thoughtfully, “I don’t feel like I’ve been hurt at all?”

    Asriel smiled kindly at her. “Gods’ food restores the soul, so it’s no surprise.” Frisk’s brows shot up and the young god shrugged. “Anyway, the goddess who saved you is called Toriel, Patron god of love and protector of mothers and children.”

    Frisk turned to face Asriel fully, tucking her legs under her and letting her wings relax onto the smooth bed sheets. “So, she wants to help me?”

    “Well, it is in the Queen’s nature.”

    Frisk jolted at this, staring slack jawed at her god. “Q-Queen? She’s the Queen of the gods?!”

    “Shh,” Asriel clapped a paw over Frisk’s mouth, looking only slightly annoyed. “It’s late and she’s asleep. Try not to be too loud. We don’t want her to wake up.”

    When the goat deity lowered his hand Frisk splutter out some stray fur. “Why?” she whispered, leaning forward conspiratorially.

    “You can’t stay, Frisk. Just being in the heavens isn’t enough. The gods are numb to hope now. My presence in you is not enough, not alone anyway. You have to open their hearts to humanity again Frisk. Prove to them that not all humans are bad. But you must be careful, Asgore, the Gods’ King, has a decree that demands the death of any human who makes their way into the heavens.” Asriel lowered his hands into his lap, brow creased in an unreadable expression. “Justice... it’s fortunate he’s so lazy.”

    Frisk swallowed, ice thrumming through her heart. “Is... Is Toriel is in danger... because of me?”

    Asriel nodded slowly, looking aggrieved at having to bear the message. Frisk didn’t know what to make of this. Toriel, she hasn’t even met her yet, but... This was the most kindness anyone has shown in her life. Letting her into their home, giving her food, bandaging her wounds? It was just so foreign to her. Frisk at least wanted to thank the goddess, but something about Asriel’s admonition of silence did not sit well with her. If she was really safe here, with the Queen of the gods, then why would she have to worry about waking her? Unless... would Toriel not let her leave? If she couldn’t leave then she couldn’t complete Asriel’s quest. She’d let him down.

    Then there was the matter of her presence being an active danger for the goddess. How could she repay someone’s kindness by putting them in harm’s way? But then, what would happen if she left? Would there be more like Flowey, gods that would attack her on sight, try to kill her? “I’ll have to fight with the gods?” The human remembered the flower again, the warped leer it bore. That sick feeling so... vile as it dragged out her soul. Panicked despair choked the air around those thorny vines.

    Asriel reached forward and rested a paw on her leg. “Not necessarily. You’ll have to convince the gods, but they aren’t as numerous as heavenly creatures.” When Frisk gave him a puzzled look he went on. “So, there are only eleven gods of power, the ones who shape and govern the worlds. Myself, Toriel, Asgore, Gaster, Sans and his brother Papyrus, Grillby, Muffet, Alphys, Mettaton, and Undyne. You already have my blessing and icon.” Asriel leaned closer and tapped the necklace. “An icon is anything that has been forged by a god and infused with their power. It’s a physical marker of the blessing and protection a god has offered. Collecting them will convince the residence of heaven to trust you. When they trust you, they’ll sense me, and feel hope again.”

    Frisk study the golden jeweled amulet hanging from her neck. This was Asriel’s gift to her, though she had woven it herself. Asriel’s presence was with her. She felt immensely reassured by this, clutching the stones in her tiny fist. She had a god on her side. Determination surged through Frisk’s soul. Moping and worrying would do her no good. “Well, I’d better get to it. There’s a quest to complete.” She grinned at Asriel who returned the smile.

    “Oh, and that card you found, hang onto it and any others you may find. I’m not sure what they do myself, but I can feel they are important. Stay hopeful, Frisk. The world is depending on you.” Asriel’s form shimmered with golden light as he faded from existence.

    She gave a sharp nod and bounced off the bed, pie plate in hand. Frisk wanted to clean the dish at least, even if she were to leave right after. It was only polite. The human slipped out into the hall, momentarily distracted by the wall sconce flickering in shades of warm yellow light. Down the hall are more rooms, likely Toriel’s bedroom and some manner of closet. She turned to the right coming into a large entry room, a stairway descending into darkness on her right and a den ahead of her. Frisk glanced out the open front entry. Large, almost purple stone covered the walls of a tunnel. Trees grew in the quiet courtyard, seemingly trapped in a constant state of fall. The air that drifted into the house was cool, but not bitterly so. The posts for the front door hummed with magic, many ruins in a language that she couldn’t read spiderwebbed over the wood. It felt like a protective shield though. Nothing would attacker her in Toriel’s house but... what if she set foot outside?

    Images of Flowey plagued her mind again, sending a shiver up her spine. Frisk glanced outside one last time, spotting another glowing star hanging lazily in the air. She swallowed and turned to explore the house further first.

    The den itself was fairly spacious, a very large arm chair resting next to a fireplace that also danced with magical fire. She would have to get used to seeing magic. It seemed like it was everywhere in the heavens. On the mantel stood a lone statute. It depicted a goat-like being in a long robe, holding a child in one arm and her hand resting on the shoulder of another female, vaguely human, figure kneeling at her feet. It pulsed and glowed like embers and Frisk felt warm and safe just looking at it. Was this Toriel’s icon? The human knew they couldn't just take it, that would be defeating the purpose of collecting them. Not to mention toting around a small statue was highly impractical.

    Her eyes scanned over the table and bookshelf, noting several books on snails and place setting for three. The house was filled with flowers of all kinds. Frisk’s attention caught on another little note left by a bag and sandals. “I noticed how worn your shoes were and took the liberty of weaving you a new pair. I also put together a little shoulder pack for you. I know how children love to explore. Please don’t wander too far, my child, and be safe.” Frisk sat down on the floor, examining her own torn shoes. That last run through the woods had pulled open a seam in the cloth bottoms. She did regret not being able to use them anymore. She had made these herself. Frisk decided to slip them into the new bag she’d been given, marveling at how it seemed to be larger on the inside.

    The sandals fit her feet perfectly and felt very comfortable. The cross weave came up to just below her knees holding shape to her calves. The white cloth strips on her right leg were fairly well hidden by the silky fibrous material. She wiggled her toes, marveling in the stiff nature of proper shoes. Frisk sprang to her feet and slung the bag over her shoulder, securing it across her front. Her wings flexed and shifted, getting a feel for the bag’s weight and shape between them. Like this she still had full mobility and balance. Excellent.

    The human padded into the kitchen, testing her new shoes with a grin. A large pie was still set and cooling on the stove, an intimidating iron fixture that was absolutely spotless. Frisk stared in awe at how organized everything was. Though smaller than the orphanage kitchen, there was not a speck of dust or soot anywhere. Oven mitts and other cooking tools hung at rest over the cooktop. A large device Frisk had never seen before hummed in the corner, the air felt cool around it. A water basin rested dead center of the room with a small counter space attached. If only briefly Frisk wondered where the knives were. The pie was much too large to take and with no way to obtain another slice, Frisk left it well enough alone.

    She jogged silently through the house again, pausing to stare at the mantel. Words trickled into her mind, a prayer, a very, very old prayer. The elders in her village used to murmur the words in hushed, rushed whispers over anything for which they were thankful. Frisk didn’t know what the words meant but they pulled at her soul. She knelt before the roaring fireplace, gazing at the image of Toriel. It was certainly Toriel depicted in that statute, caring and loving for those children and weary mothers. She was the soul of love itself, beautiful in her very nature. Sincere, kind, and lasting. She bowed her hands and recited the prayer, feeling like every word came from her soul rather than her lips. Warmth circled her in a comforting embrace and ghosts or tears slipped from her eyes. Frisk felt a relief, a weight she didn’t know she’d been carrying lifted from her. She was still afraid, but the fear felt so distant. The human knew that Love had heard her, she could feel it in the air.

    Frisk rose to her feet, that lightness and protection coiling in her chest as she moved on, slowing to halt at the front door. She needed to find a light source if she wanted to explore the basement, and taking a stick from the fireplace didn’t seem wise.

    The star flickered there, taunting her. Frisk wondered if she could somehow harness that power or light. It would make exploring much easier. With a quick glance around she ducked out of the house and reached for the light. Just as before, the energy shot up her arm and the glow vanished. She gave an irritated huff. Well she was outside now, might as well keep going.

    The central yard was large, a gnarled old tree centered for decor. All the leaves that dusted over the stone path were hues of burnt amber and reds. Frisk swallowed down her fears, clutching the pendant again and rushed forward. She skirted the tree, holding her wings stiffly to her back. There was a slight narrowing of the passage and Frisk felt like she had walked through something not quite solid. Runes pulsed on either side, a separate ward for her yard too. Toriel seemed paranoid for a goddess Queen, but if she put up this many precautions who's to say they aren’t justified. No. No! She couldn’t think like that, couldn’t let her determination waver.

    Frisk looked to the path ahead of her as it branched in a ‘t’ with another cavern. One look at the spikes stabbing up through the ground to her right and the human opted for the left hand tunnel. It wasn’t very long, maybe a few feet when she ran into a small frog-like creature. Her breath caught and her pulse quickened. This is another heavenly being. Was it going to attack her too? Frisk backpedaled, tripping over a stick and landing hard on her tailbone. The frog hopped forward and croaked. The human seized the stick as some pathetic extra form of protection just as her pendant began to glow.

    Her world was plunged into that blackness and her shiny red soul leapt from her chest. Asriel’s icon glowed softly about her neck though, and suddenly it was clear. She had options before her, fight, act, item, or mercy. Her mind, or soul rather, flipped through these options, time felt somewhat suspended. This is a confrontation, a conversation. Frisk chose to act, though somewhat unsure of herself, and complemented the creature- er Froggit?- on how cute it was. Now that she really did look at the ... Froggit it did seem adorable. Large shiny eyes, tiny little feet, and while it didn’t seem to understand her, it blushed anyway. Frisk may have confused the Froggit, but she had not gained its trust yet. The heavenly creature’s body shimmer white and it leapt at her. She side stepped as best she could, very nearly getting hit a few times.

    Frisk, despite the racing fear in her limbs, kept complimenting and flirting with the Froggit. Never had such honeyed words gotten her anywhere. Humans took one look at her soft red eyes, knew her as a demon, and closed off their hearts in disgust. But not this little creature -so maybe little isn’t the best way to describe it as it was larger than she- Frisk could feel it when the Froggit opened itself to her. Something just clicked, like a song, a harmony that she was part of and it made her soul soar with joy, with even the simplest connection that had been denied her for so long.

    She felt for the mercy within her heart and extended that feeling to the Froggit, guided by Asriel’s light. For a time the creature stilled, basking in the light of her soul and just... feeling hope for the first time in a very long while. It began to croak, to sing, a melody that had been forgotten to it since the war. Frisk sung to, or hummed to be totally accurate. Froggit ribbited a thanks and hopped away, renewed spring in its steps.

    Color and light filtered into Frisk’s world again and she kept going. Through a door on her left a chilled draft blew. Despite what felt like a biting chill to the air, Frisk didn’t feel the least bit cold. A tingle of magic around her toes and the soft flicker caught her focus from the ground. Her sandals had lit up briefly and a warm, protective aura surrounded her shoulders like a thick sweater. Frisk laughed at the realization that her shoes might just be an icon from Toriel. Her mirth shimmered into wonderment as Frisk gazed out over an entire underground city. It... “It’s amazing.”

    “You have no idea, dO YoU?” Flowey’s voice cackled up from behind her as she once again spun to meet him. The demon flower’s face relaxed into bemused. “What, you think because you touched one monster, your suddenly invincible? Please. You’ll be dead from your own stupidity and I won’t even have to lift a petal to take your soul.”

    Frisk’s grip on her stick tightened and Flowey laughed at her.

    “That’s not going to do you any good, Frisk.” His laughter turned sadistic and off kilter, face splitting and oozing again. “Here,” he purred, “use this instead.” A tiny plastic knife was thrown at her feet. It didn’t have an edge, how could that be better than a stick? At least the stick could be used as a club.

    “Or don’t.” Flowey’s face was back to normal but kept an annoyed cast to it. “Either way, you should hang onto it. Never know what might come in handy. Well, I’ll see you soon, Frisk. Just remember, in this world it’s kill or be killed. Toodles~!” Flowey disappeared into the ground, his ominous turn of phrase itching through the back of her mind far more than she wanted to admit. She wanted to trust that everything would  turn out alright. She really wanted to trust that Asriel would protect her, but... at the same time she didn’t know if she could fully trust anything or anyone. Survival had been predicated on not giving others a chance to hurt her. Frisk stared at the toy knife for a long time.

    She stooped down and shoved it into her pack, not wanting to touch it for too long.

    The human didn’t want to dwell on that action, it made her feel dirty on the inside though she didn’t really know why. Not trusting people was normal for her, so how was this any different. Because they’re gods. Yes but that didn’t mean they were infallible. Sans being the only one you really had a chance to meet so far was living proof of that. Justice, lazy. The flaws were very apparent. Yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s weak or untrustworthy. His laziness might have just been kindness in disguise. After all, he should have killed you.

    Frisk shook her head as she proceeded towards the dreaded left corridor. This internal debate wasn’t going to solve her problems. She had to finish exploring these ruins and then find a way out. The heavens had to be larger than just one underground cavern. Right? Frisk hummed nervously. There was enough space that she could give herself a lift off jump to clear the spikes just fine. That didn’t stop her from worrying about their presence altogether but at least she wouldn’t get herself hurt.

    The halls she walked through had more spikes in them, looping around and headed down? Yes, the passages sloped down very gradually. Several pillars supported a arched roof. Various odd mushroom shaped triggers dotted the rooms. Frisk didn’t really know what they did so refrained from touching them. She laced her fingers through the straps on her front and played with the hem of her tunic. It was eerily quiet here.

    The human did run into a few more ‘monsters’ but most were other Froggits and a few other bizarre but ultimately harmless creatures. She was frightened at first, but the encounters soon fell into a routine with her. With a little bit of trial and error she discovered how to handle them and drawing out that power to show mercy didn’t require so much concentration. It was almost natural for Frisk though the glow from her neck never let her forget the hope’s true source.

    Eventually she made it all the way back to the place Justice brought her to. To the ‘beginning’. Her blood still stained the ground here, a shudder running up her spine as her wings clenched painfully. Her breathing somewhat ragged, Frisk turned back, almost racing over herself to get away from that place. The air here suddenly felt heavy, thick. It made her gasp for air and the weight that had been lifted in her time of prayer slammed back onto her shoulders. I-It.. it’s too much, she can hardly keep going. Despair that came from without seized at her legs and throat.

    “You shouldn’t linger here.” It was the voice again. Her voice but... not. Distorted, dark, and so... lonely. It made Frisk’s soul ache with empathy, with the desire to comfort them. Something like laughter echoed in her mind, though if it was really just in mind, the human wasn’t sure.

    She reached a split staircase, another star pulsing warmly at the bottom. Without even thinking, Frisk reached for the power it contained, elating in the shadows burning away from her soul. She knew what this point of light was. Determination, something her soul could latch onto. A anchor in the veil.

    Frisk moved on, not wanting to linger any more than she must. Her feet carry her swiftly back through the ruins, touching every star she passed. At one point Frisk poked her head into an antechamber at the end of a long hall. A bowl full of candy rested on a pedestal at the room’s center with a sign reading ‘Take One’. Remembering what Asriel had told her about gods’ food, she plucked a piece from the pile, only briefly tempted to take more. She put the candy in her bag and continued back to Toriel’s home.

    After reaching a small table with cheese resting on it, noting a mouse hole in a nearby wall, Frisk smiled, feeling another rush of magic coursing up her arm from a tiny star. She couldn’t help but picture the rodent, victoriously toting the cheese back into his home. Her grin broadened at the thought of how close she was to getting home. ... Home? When did she start thinking of Toriel’s house as her home?

    Her musings were abruptly ended by a spectral figure lying over the path. While she could always fly over them that felt rude. Instead Frisk knelt down to examine the ghost. “E-excuse me?”

    “ZZZzzzZZZzzz” He was feigning sleep.

    “Excuse me, Mr. Ghost, but I need to get by please.”

    Ever so slowly the phantom opened an eye to stare at her. “You’re a human?”

    “Y-yes?”

    “Oooh nooo.” He moaned rather pathetically. “I-I’m sorry. Asking that was so rude. I understand if you never want to see me again. I’m so sorry.”

    The child was more than a little taken aback by the suddenly weepy nature of this ‘monster’. Noting that he also kept crying while he spoke. It tugged her heart strings to be totally honest. “No, it’s fine. Really, please stop apologizing.” Frisk moved forward, holding her arms around the ghostly figure, not able to touch him but acting out a hug. She hummed her hopeful song and made soft shushing sounds.

    If only for a moment the ghost’s form flushed into something solid and more-or-less human in shape. In that flash of substance, Frisk caught the hidden glory that this heavenly creature held. Perhaps creature was not the right word for this either. He was more a lesser god. Frisk pulled back and smiled warmly at him. “I like you, so please don’t apologize.”

    Was he... blushing. Oh he was.

    “D-does that mean w-we’re f-friends?” Oh Frisk just wanted to hug him again.

    “Absolutely.” She nodded, tossing her cropped brown locks.

    The ghost smiled shyly and scooted over in the leaves. Laying down again. Frisk moved to join him, hesitating as the plants shifted and seemed to fall. It still supported her weight just fine. Once she got settled, Frisk’s eyes drifted shut. Something about him made her feel comfortable and she found herself striking up a conversation of nothing of any consequence. His name is Napstablook and he’s a muse. She if Frisk, the human on a god’s quest.

    Without really meaning to she began to spill everything that happened from the beginning of her quest, to meeting Justice, to Flowey, her own doubts and fears. It just... slipped out as if she was compelled to speak. Napstablook remained quiet through her entire tale, finally speaking of his coming to the Ruins to be alone, to think. He even spoke of his cousin, the god of revelry, Mettaton and how much he missed him.

    “Why don’t you tell him?”

    “I-I don’t want to be a bother.”

    “Naps, you won’t be a bother. You’re his cousin and a fellow god. He sounds like the type to get caught up in moment and he’ll need someone to keep him grounded.” At some point Frisk’s hand wound up palm up with a ghostly nub-like hand resting just above her skin.

    “You think so?”

    “I know so.” She nodded sharply, the leaves rustling lightly and getting tangled in her hair.

    “T-Thank you, Frisk.”

    Her soul glowed brighter at the companionship she’d been able to develop in such a short time.

    “I-I want to... um...p-play a song for you.” They both sat up and Napstablook formed a harp out of light. His magic danced over the instrument, sending the silvery string into choral tones. The tempo was neither slow, nor terribly fast, It felt... sad. Old words came to mind as the chorus picked up the rhythm. Frisk sang, long slow syllables that tore her heart to weeping. She didn’t know what she was saying, but much like the prayer, she could feel every note thrumming from her soul. It is a funeral march of some kind. An odic epithet. The death of Hope.

    Frisk knew why this moved her now, even seeing phantom tears in Napstablook’s eyes. She closed her own out of necessity. Her soul was crying, no need for her voice to be taken by the shared sorrow too.

    The song ended and they were smiling through the pain. Laughter seemed about the only thing that could stave off the tears. It was much how she had been in the orphanage, only... less lonesome. “You’re really good at composition, Naps.”

    “You’re a really good singer, Frisk.”

    “I-Is this all there is? The Ruins? You made it sound like there are more places than this.”

    “There are, but Queen Toriel’s home rests over the entrance to the rest of the heavens. She used to be the guardian of the gate further out, but ever since that’s been sealed her purpose here has been helping the well off monsters.”

    There was that word again. ‘Monsters’. It seemed so degrading. So... fallen. But, wasn’t that what these heavenly creature are? Fallen?

    “Thank you for spending time with me, Naps. I’m going to go to Toriel’s now.”

    “G-good luck. Y-you can stop by my place a-any time you want to hang out?”