Author's Note: This fic is also available on my DeviantArt account of the same name. I strongly recommend you read it there; being an Undertale fic, it makes use of font effects that can't be used on FFnet. The story is still perfectly readable here, of course, but I think it's better with the formatting intact, the way it was meant to be seen. Plus, there will be additional author commentary on DA, since they give me a separate place to write it in. Feel free to leave reviews on whichever site you choose to. If you're reading on one site and commenting on the other, however, please make an effort to post your comment/review on the correct chapter! Thank you!
It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing; flowers were blooming. And on a day like this, Frisk was celebrating their birthday.
The child sat on a bean bag in front of the television, playing a co-op puzzle-solving game with Papyrus, while Asgore watched from the couch. Mettaton sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, plugged into a wall socket, back-seat gaming. There was a knock at the door, but before Asgore could get up to answer it, the door flew open, slamming into the wall.
"WHERE'S THE BIRTHDAY KID?!" Undyne bellowed, barging into the house while Alphys remained standing outside on the welcome mat, looking mortified. The naiad swept the child up in one arm; the controller dropped to the ground and Frisk's character fell off a ledge. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PUNK!"
"UNDYNE, PLEASE DON'T NOOGIE THE HUMAN!"
The skeleton's protest prompted Undyne to let Frisk go and roughly rub her fist across his skull instead. "How else am I supposed to show my affection?" she asked, still grinning from fin to fin.
"PLEASE DON'T NOOGIE THE SKELETON."
Alphys sheepishly let herself in as Undyne let Papyrus go. Sporting an embarrassed grin, the drake's first instinct was to try to divert attention away from the scene her girlfriend had caused. "Um, h-hi everyone! Sorry we're late!" And once everyone's attention was on her, she realized she didn't know what else to say. The grin widened and warped.
Thankfully, that was the moment Sans opened the door from the back deck and poked his head in. "'dogs're ready." Frisk jumped up and gave him a quick hug, thanking him again for cooking for them. "yeah, no problem, kiddo. but only 'cause it's your special day," he said with a wink.
Then Frisk took off for the kitchen, and everyone else followed suit.
"Happy birthday, dear Frisk, happy birthday to you!"
As the song ended, Toriel carefully placed the cake in front of Frisk. It really was a lovely cake, covered in white buttercream icing and decorated with colorful fondant snails. At the top, two molded candles formed the number 11.
The child stared thoughtfully at the candles for a moment, considering their options. Then they smiled and blew the candles out. I wish to save Asriel.
The monsters applauded politely as Toriel cut the cake.
"Do you like it, darling? We can always take it back and get you a different one if you don't like the smell." Frisk smiled and opened one of the lids to take a sniff; the shampoo was buttercup scented. They assured Mettaton they did like his gift, although they didn't know what some of the other things in the basket were.
"Oh, that's alright, honey," the robot said, "I can explain it all to you. Maybe when I get back from my tour, I can do your hair some time? Would you like that, darling?" Frisk nodded happily and thanked the robot, placing the basket of MTT brand hair products next to the boxed set of anime DVDs Alphys had given them and the paint kit from Asgore.
Next, they opened up the tiny package from Undyne. Inside was a thick, oval shaped object, metallic around the edges but covered with shiny purple enamel on the sides. It had the delta rune emblazoned on it. The child turned the object over in their hands.
"It's a Royal Guard Knife!" the warrior woman explained, grinning. "It's got all kinds of cool tools in it, like knives and a fire starter! I think it's also got some lame stuff like a compass or whatever, but I never use that!"
"Oh, dear! My child, I do not think that is safe for you to have," Toriel protested, prying the thing out of Frisk's hand. She put it down on the end table next to her and glared at the naiad.
Undyne picked it up. "Sorry, Toriel. I'll take it back and exchange it for something else." Moments later, when the boss monster leaned over to pick up her own present and give it to Frisk, Undyne silently slipped the Royal Guard Knife into the child's pocket, holding one finger up to her lips.
Nobody was any the wiser as the human unwrapped their next gift – a beautiful green book decorated with elegant gold floral designs, titled Legends and Surface Tales: Traditional Monster Stories. They opened it to a random page and saw a stunning full-page illustration of a small dog monster in a red cloak being menaced by a big, bad human. Frisk closed the book and thanked Toriel.
The next gift didn't have a label, but it didn't need one. It was wrapped in what was obviously a cut up paper bag, with the grocery store's logo still visible on it. At least Sans had gone to the trouble of wrapping the gift instead of simply placing it in the bag.
That night, Frisk lay stomach-down on their bed, reading their new book. Though their eyelids grew heavier with each page, they were so engrossed in story after story, illustration after illustration, that they couldn't put it down. This one had a picture of a cloaked figure wielding a green sword confronting a much larger, frightening-looking monster.
Long ago, well before the surface war, in the time before humans lost the gift of magic, monsters and humans lived together in peace. But despite this, it was not a happy time. The people of this land lived in fear, for they were ruled by a terrible tyrant of a Boss Monster. The King cared not for his subjects, but only for his own power, which he had bolstered with the selfish misuse of the powerful artifacts, which in those days were still common.
The people had soon had enough, and decided that something must be done. But nobody wanted to risk the wrath of the King's Royal Guards, who in those dark days were little more than thugs. So the suffering continued, until one day the wife of a brave and handsome monster named Cahir was slain. Grieving, he vowed to end the cruelty and oppression.
Cahir traveled from town to town, and each time he stopped, he stirred the hearts of the people and rallied them to his side. With each town he passed, the resistance grew, and with it grew the hopes and dreams of the villagers. Cahir's fame spread far and wide, and monsters and humans alike journeyed to join him on his quest. Among his followers he counted great warriors and clever wizards, but the dearest of all was the healer, Eira, a green-eyed human from across the sea, who loved Cahir deeply.
But it wasn't long before the King heard that his subjects were uniting against him, and he was furious. He declared Cahir an outlaw, and ordered his guards to find him and put him to death. The guards spread across the kingdom, terrorizing the people.
It was not until the brave hero came to a burnt village that he learned of the bounty on his head. As Cahir and his followers rushed to douse the remaining flames, they came to a skeleton lying in the middle of the road, with all the bones in his hands and feet broken.
The skeleton spoke to Eira as she healed him, and told her that the town had been burned and the inhabitants mutilated by the Royal Guard, as a punishment for refusing to aid in the capture of Cahir. He warned that the King had made an example of his town, and other villages might turn against Cahir for fear of the same fate.
With a heavy heart, the brave hero told his followers to remain in the burnt town and help the villagers. If he continued his journey from town to town, he knew many innocent people would be hurt. He had no choice but to confront the King, alone, and without further preparation. He told his friends that he would go on in disguise, and asked them not to follow him or give up hope. Only in Eira did he confide the truth, and she begged to go with him, but he denied her pleas.
For three days and three nights, Cahir journeyed, until at last he came to the King's castle. In his fury, the tyrant had made a terrible mistake, for he had sent all of his guards to find Cahir, leaving none for his own defense. The brave monster stood outside and demanded that the King come out and face him in fair combat, but the King was a coward, and instead sent servants armed only with kitchen knives to capture Cahir.
Being only servants, and so poorly equipped, they had but to lay eyes on his fine emerald sword to know that they were doomed should they fight him, and begged him for mercy. Cahir, of course, was clever and kind, and told the servants that no harm would come to them if they helped him. So the servants pretended to capture Cahir, and they brought him before the King in his throne room, whereupon they released him and fled for their lives.
The two monsters fought for a full day, and into the night, but no matter how Cahir wounded the King, he would not die. Eventually, the Boss Monster had Cahir at his mercy, and in his arrogance, he boasted that Cahir could never have won, for his soul was protected by the magical gem embedded in his throne. But unbeknownst to him, Eira had followed Cahir but a day behind, and was now standing behind the King. She heard what the King said, and saw the stone.
With all her might, the human toppled the throne, so that it fell stone-first into the hard floor, smashing the artifact and releasing its magic. Cahir used the last of his strength to strike one final blow with his emerald sword, and slew the King where he stood.
Eira hurried to Cahir's side, but his wounds were too great for her powers to overcome. The fallen hero lamented that his last action was to take a life, and made a dying wish that his blade should never harm another again. The healer promised that she would see his wish through, and on the stroke of midnight, Cahir turned to dust in Eira's arms.
The grieving human spread Cahir's dust on the sword and returned to the village where the rest of his followers remained. It was decided that the artifacts the King had abused for so long should be locked away in hidden places, far from those who would misuse them. Likewise, to fulfil Cahir's dying request and memorialize his sacrifice, his blade would be enshrined somewhere far away.
So Eira retreated to a sacred place where a great ash tree grew in a cavern deep under a mountain, and there she built a crypt within the mighty roots. But the healer knew the simple isolation of the sword would not be enough to keep her promise forever. For three months, three weeks, and three days, she worked, weaving an enchantment that would ensure the sword would do no more harm, for all time. Then, in her grief, she used the last of the magic stones to seal her own sleeping soul within the blade, never to be separated from Cahir again.
The child frowned. They wanted to keep going, to read another story with a happier ending – but, at last, they could no longer resist the weight of sleep. They closed the book, put it on their bedside table, and turned out the light.
As Frisk drifted off, the wish they'd made that day filled them with determination.