I am the first winter storm, howling through Snowdin and terrifying the residents back inside. Their festivities rankle me, digging at the failure ever forefront in my mind. There is only one reason they could be celebrating, one reason all their worldly possessions are strewn in the streets being packed in boxes and bags, ancient steamer trunks and floating magic spheres
The Barrier is breached.
I am the hurricane force that churns the waters of Waterfall to roaring waves. The siren flees and frenetic cats scatter as I bound over mushrooms and knock down giant, pulsing crystals with my tails in passing. Dark or light, it does not matter. There is one place I must reach. I must know, must see for myself.
The seven souls have been gathered.
I am the scorching rage the Hotlands have never seen. Two guards in black armor go spinning to the right and left as I plow past. A tiny flaming man screams his name at me. I will never remember him. He is not worth remembering. No one in this accursed land is.
I have been played for a fool.
I should have known. I should have sensed something. Anything. Instead I let myself be led in circles by a daisy that claimed it had seen them just ahead, that they had taken a turn here, and that here they had just caught a riverboat to the next land. Warning me at every step how I must hurry, lest the King steal their souls to break through the magical barrier locking them all underground.
"Fool!" I roar, screaming only at myself. A burger seller dives for cover as I burst into a garish resort, making the most hideous faces at me. A tiny armored fairy blocks my way, shaking its toothpick of a sword in my face. I barely feel it hit my forehead and tumble aside. My claws scrape across metal and circuitry. I pass through The Core in a breath, and I am outside the throne room.
Please.
I slide to a stop, orange tiles cracking and crumbling under my paws. Before me stretches a glorious carpet of golden flowers, stretching for yards in every direction around a stately gold throne. The throne is empty, as is the throne room. And yet, not completely empty.
No.
At my paws, nested tenderly in the flowerbed, are six glass containers. Three lie empty, unsealed, their gleaming glass faces betraying nothing of their former contents. One lies empty and sealed, its purpose never fulfilled.
Three lie sealed, pulsing softly, filled with proof of my ultimate failure.
Forgive me.
I am too late and there is nothing to be done. The Barrier is broken, though if some souls remain I do not know how it was done.
"You idiot! With all the time you've wasted down here, the seventh soul is prepared. Now all their power is mine!"
If I find that grinning goldenrod I will tear it to pieces. It knew where they were this whole time, and it stalled me. It stalled to allow for their murder, then it vanished.
I gather the vials into my mouth, bracing them firmly between my tongue and teeth. No more harm will come to them, or what is left of them.
…...
The sun has just risen on the surface. I have been underground for months combing every cavern and questioning every monster in search of them. The warmth seeps through my matted coat, but it does not ease me.
Just down the mountain ridge is a small valley with a meadow. It is there that I lay the vials.
Blue. Purple. Orange. Three hearts pulse in sync, the souls of the humans I called my family. I knew death would take them before I was ready, human lives are so very short. But it was not supposed to be this soon.
One had already passed, but remained for the other two. Now all lay here, and once I release them there will be nothing binding them to this world.
"That is as it should be," I remind myself harshly. "They are supposed to pass on. Supposed to be at rest." And yet I cannot bring myself to unseal the vials.
So alone.
The sun rises to its peak and then sighs its way to the horizon again, tucking itself down past the mountains as the stars fleck the darkness. I wonder if the King is able to find sleep under these stars, so dearly bought for him to see.
Don't leave me.
I rest my tails across the vials, unreasonably worried they must be cold. There is no 'cold' and there is no 'hot' for them anymore, but I still draw them close, watching the steady pulse.
Morning comes again, and I can no longer bear it. If I only unseal one, at least I will know what happened. I will hear one voice again. I lower my nose to the blue vial. It is a sharp blue. An unyielding blue. A never-say-die blue that would do anything to hold her band together. My most forthright charge.
"Vivi," I breathe her name over the glass, and it cracks apart. As the container disintegrates, a wave of blue washes over me, and I see her last living moments.
…...
"You must be the King," I say, shifting the burnt pan in my hand. He doesn't look at all like I pictured a killer monster would look. White fur, a friendly smile, and an outstretched hand offering a cup of tea.
"Asgore," he affirms, still offering the tea. "How have you found your journey?"
I don't take the tea, keeping a grip on the pan. I don't want to kill him. I've had to injure some on my way, but I ran as soon as I could. Others I hid from. Some few call me 'friend,' but this one I was warned about.
"It was hard," I finally answer. "I left a few banged up heads back there. I'm sorry about that. But I need to get home. My boys are waiting for me."
"Your boys?" The hand with the teacup falters. "You have children?"
Laughing, I lower the pan slightly. "Sorry, I should be more careful with my choice of words. My best friend, my boyfriend, and my dog. They act like kids sometimes, I guess. Somebody has to look out for them."
"If somebody has to look out for them, why are you down here?" He raises an ear quizzically. "Everyone knows the legend of this mountain. Why did you seek this place?"
I raise an eyebrow back at him. "A mysterious mountain where nobody comes back from? I guess you've never heard of the Mystery Skulls. We love cases like this."
"You say that as if there are more of you, but I see only you."
"Yeah, well, I might have gone on ahead." I scowl at the golden flowers blooming all over the floor. "I might have gotten tired of hearing them argue." Or of hearing Lewis berate Arthur. Again.
"I see. I understand." He smiles warmly, his eyes glistening. "There are people very dear to you. People you need to get back to. You have come this far, I will not stop you."
I yank the pan back up again, eyeing him. "You won't? Everyone said you need human souls for this project of yours."
"I do," he says softly. "But I have no wish to fight you. Look." He pulls from under his great cloak a blood red trident, laying it on the ground. "On my word of honor, you may pass. Only share a cup of tea with me." He offers it again. "It has been lonely here, and none of the guards appreciate a good cup."
I am thirsty, and the tea will probably give me the strength to make it out. That fight with the crazy bot was hard, and I still have a few injuries. I stick the pan in my bag and take the tea, offering a smile. "Thank you… your majesty."
"Don't thank me." He turns back to his flowers. "I am only doing what any king would do."
I sip the tea. It is a thick, soothing brew, and I feel strength returning to me. I drink the rest and set the cup on the ground, unsure what else to do with it. "Thank you, your majesty. I've never had tea like that." I blink, scrubbing my eyes. I am a little tired. My throat feels dry, even though I've just drunk. "What is it? I'd love to make it for my boys." Well, maybe not Lewis.
"Honey. Juniper. Lemon." He rises, keeping his back to me, and the room tilts slightly. "Foxglove. Buttercup. Nightshade."
My legs aren't working, and I fall facefirst into the flowers. The air is too thick to breathe and the taste of copper is clogging my throat, spewing from my mouth. I am rolled over, but it is hard to see. There are words, but I can't hear. Everything is fading, fading…
He never drank with me.
…...
"Asgore's life is mine!" I roar, raising alarm in three flocks of birds that flee in every direction. I gnash my teeth, shaking my head hard to seal the burning in my eyes away. There will be no tears, there will be no sorrow. Only rage, rage I can take and use to rend this ruler limb from-
There are hands on my snout. I cannot feel them, but I can see them. My rage slides sideways into grief for the hands that I can see my own fur through. I can't bring myself to raise my eyes.
"Mystery," she says, and her voice is just the same and the grief slides harder. "I'm here. Hey, look. I'm here. You found me. I knew you guys would find me."
My words are gone. She does not know. She knows she is dead, but thinks she is the only one. I do not have the words to speak my failure to her. Oh gods, their lives are so short, and now shorter still. I cannot even give them more time, as I'd hoped. Only children, all of them. Mine to protect, mine to guard, and see them now.
"Not long enough," is all I can say, groaning as I drag my face along the ground.
"Mystery! Snap out of it!" She darts directly into my field of vision, hands on her hips. She is more mist than solid projection, vaguely collected in a semi-human form bound into shape by vines of nightshade and stalks of foxglove. Buttercups are woven through her hair, and even through blurred, unfocused features I know she is glaring at me. "Hey! This isn't on you! Don't go here. I pulled a stupid, okay? I let my temper get the better of me. I shouldn't have gone on ahead. Hey, hey." She catches my snout in her hands again. "It's all right. You found me. Let's go find the boys and explain. I'm sure we can work things out."
My snout drops to the remaining two vials and I close my eyes, unable to watch her reaction.
"Oh," she says in a soft rush of air like one winded. Or is it wounded? She hovers over them, taking in the sight of her teammates. "Oh." Definitely wounded.
She reaches for the purple one, and I bark, "No!" She turns back to me, and I lower my head. "Please."
"What's wrong with you?" she demands. "Why don't you want me to let him out?"
How am I supposed to tell her that I can't bear for them to leave? I'm not ready. I'm not prepared. I was supposed to have time to adjust to them being gone!
"Mystery." Her voice is softer. "Why are you crying?"
Damn.
Her hands are running through my fur, combing through, but all I can feel is my fur moving as if in a breeze, and the confession burns its way out. "I'm not ready for you to leave me. When you're all out and you've all resolved what keeps you here, you'll leave. I'm not ready, Vivi." I am a cur. A beast. The worst friend or guardian anyone could have. I should be helping them move on, but instead I'm making it even harder for them to pass in peace.
She doesn't scold me. Her arms circle my neck, and though I can't feel her arms, I imagine a faint warmth there.
"I'm sorry, Mystery."
"I should have gone after you right then," I tuck my chin over her. "I should have been with you."
She doesn't say anything, and she doesn't move back toward the vials. She stays where she is, her fingers combing through my fur, which parts at her touch. The sun beams down from its height, then moves slowly toward the mountains again. As night cools me once again, I wonder how long she would stay there. If I don't ever move again, would we stay like this until we slip into legend? I would not mind.
Stars light and dim too fast, the moon pinwheeling across the sky to make way for the sun again. Time no longer has meaning to me. It is as it was before Vivi found me, bleeding out in some gutter I'd dragged myself to. Days, months, decades. What difference does it make to an immortal? With them, time had regained some meaning, but now…
And yet I drop my gaze back to the two remaining vials. The grass is thicker around them now, and there are tiny flowers dotting the meadow that weren't there before. How long have I stood here already? Vivi's fingers still groom my fur, and I am sick at myself.
Because I am not ready, I have already delayed their passing for gods know how long, and I have kept Vivi separate from her friends, unsure of their fates.
"Enough." I turn to Vivi, gently swiping at what I can no longer feel with my tongue. My coat is glossy and smooth from nape to tails from her grooming, and she hovers there, watching me. "Enough. How long?"
"As long as it took," she answers softly.
My wise, clever Vivi. I turn to the vials and roll the purple one free from its grassy nest. "Lewis," I whisper. The vial bursts apart, and the field is engulfed in pink flame as the memory sears me.
