Anno Domini 1398, February 22
Letter from Wis to Queen Toriel
My dear Queen,
We have reached the cave wall. By the time our draconic friend has brought you this I hope we will have explored the area and have more to report. There is a spring, and a stream flowing from the cave wall back towards the bright blue marshlands farther in. A lot of scattered rocks. Cantarell Gaster suggested using them to build a house. I asked if he knew anything about stone laying, and he admitted that he did not. Well, it's an idea.
We have had no trouble from the elemental. He has been very withdrawn, such that I was at first worried he was relapsing into his earlier state, but my fears were, I think, entirely unfounded.
He's lost the capacity for speech. It took us two days to realize that the garbled screaming sounds he was making were not cries of pain but attempts to communicate. I can only guess that the binding interfered with the magical process which allows him to speak. Fortunately, he and Cantarell can communicate through signs, as both are fluent.
The elemental has begun sleeping for long stretches and eating whenever we do, two things which Cantarell tells me he didn't previously do. He still produces heat and shows an aversion to water, but the sooty appearance has remained much the same as when you last saw him. His form looks softer now that he has completely shed the crust of soot: like smoke but more solid. In dark places in the caves, I've glanced at him and thought I was looking into a hole in the wall. He has the appearance of darkness. Cantarell agrees that he is definitely smaller, he hesitates at an actual number. Perhaps 30% smaller, but remember that numbers are not my strong point.
I've sent a rudimentary map of the area and our route to arrive here. Send word if we should remain here or continue on.
Year 1, May 2
Queen's Journal Entry
Life goes on, somehow. Even when you feel it shouldn't, it does, and the days follow steadily one on another in gray hue, and everything has changed and continues to change.
The city is rising steadily. I throw myself into the work to numb myself, and I believe many of the others feel the same about it. Since there are not many of us and everyone who can shares the work equally, I think we will soon have everyone housed, at least to some rudimentary degree. Expansion will follow. We need a more convenient source of water. Katara spends a lot of time exploring the channels in Waterfall, saying she wants to build an aqueduct, but I'm not sure if it's feasible. I believe she is also looking for the armor of her ancestors, who made their last stand there.
Damien has started work on the statue already, in the evenings, when he should be resting instead of chipping stone like he has been all day. He says the creative outlet re-energizes him. The rough shape is emerging, only the rough shape and my heart aches already when I see it. What will I feel when Asgore Dreemurr, the Fallen King, stands again in the square?
They want me to write something for the inscription. I don't feel equal to the task. Nothing comes to mind that would fit him—simple, yet noble; warm and kind, yet ruthless in battle. Protector, defender, lover, tender of gardens, pie-eater, feller of the White Mage.
The people have more or less accepted my decision regarding the killer. This surprises me a little. I myself am not sure if I accept my decision. But someone has suggested that it honors the King's sacrifice and legacy, since he died trying to talk him down peacefully. The truth is I don't know. What would Asgore have done, had he lived? Would he have spared him, seeing everything that happened after his fall?
Ciarda is doing better, I think, or at least he's stopped declining. He seems to have aged ten years in a few months, is so stiff he can hardly move and easily confused.
Sylfaen is still falling down a lot, but he refuses to admit there's anything wrong with him. I'm glad Sancreek is there to watch over him. Sylfaen has grudgingly accepted him as his pupil.
The dragon seems to have been affected least of the others, and still insists on being the one to deliver supplies and check in on the exiles. He insists on doing it at odd times, a few days ahead of schedule or behind; I think he wants to catch them unawares. So far Cantarell Gaster has kept the fire in check and our friend has nothing unusual to report.
Gerson's memory has gotten 'spotty', as he tells me, but he insists it's nothing he can't deal with as he's been a harebrained, distractible creature all his life. I certainly hope he's alright. He spends a lot of time out in Waterfall all by himself, exploring and foraging. He brings us new foods and herbs, curious rocks, and maps showing roads to new caves.
Wis is much the same, but I detect flecks of silver appearing in the fur of his face. I mentioned it to him and he teased me mercilessly, saying I cared only for beauty and that I gave the aging dandy no rest.
The Naiads had the most surprising reaction to the ritual. They came to me just this week and said that they are both certain they can sense the killer's location if they focus. I thanked them for telling me. They asked if I wanted them to do anything particular about it, and I said no, but to tell me if they noticed him moving outside the dark caverns where we have secluded them.
It makes me feel better to think we have another failsafe. I trust Cantarell, but I do not trust his companion, much as he appears to have reformed.
We continue building. One thing is for sure; in this our new city there will be no death penalty. I've set a precedent for mercy. We will have to see where that leads us. What develops instead.
It's late. I can't sleep.
Year 1, May 29
Letter from Sylfaen to Sancreek —excerpt
Here's the real question, does the shiny water taste any better than the water here? No? Probably not. [...] Have you heard? On his last trip, Mister Dragon found the two exiles camped at the top of one of those wall-cracks in a side cavern, way up by the ceiling. Cantarell said they'd been threatened by a band of vigilantes from Home. Emberfells searched the ground in the direction indicated and found them fleeing. They'd heard him coming. Seems they couldn't let the past linger and decided to kill the weakened elemental themselves; Gaster sent him up the path in the cave wall and held them off until they began attacking him. He's fine, he has a shield. But he was rather shaken, I hear. Well, we should have known this would happen. All things considered it went rather well.
Dunk Gerson in the water for me will ya? -Your loving Uncle
Your mother says tell you to eat your vegetables so EAT YOUR GODDAMN VEGETABLES YOU ABSOLUTE ANIMAL. And get back here soon. I know I said I wouldn't miss you but I lied. I can't reach the ingredients on the top shelves anymore and I forgot the combination code for that nifty box you made. Please come back soon.
Year 1, July 10
Letter from Cantarell Gaster to Queen Toriel
My Gracious Queen,
Forgive me for not answering your letters sooner, I hope I did not worry you. As the dragon has probably told you, I've been sick. I'm doing better now but still very tired and weak. It's probably something to do with the damage to my soul, perhaps I've been using too much magic, but I'm sure it will pass soon.
G has been keeping me warm. I think he takes a little consolation in the fact that he can still do something helpful. He was very distraught after that attack; he's always been the one protecting me, not the other way around.
I would like to make this a longer letter but I have a feeling that if I try, I won't finish it; so in the name of promptness I'll send this as is. My next will be longer.
I pray for your health,
-Cantarell, Gaster
Year 1, August 5
My Gracious Queen,
The dragon was correct, I am looking different these days. G's soot leaves stains, and they built up on my face and hands when I was sick. I'm having trouble washing them off. But I don't mind how they look, and they don't cause any discomfort, so it's not really a problem.
G is more upset about it than I am, really. He's still leaving a trail of soot everywhere he goes, we'd hoped it would stop once he got used to the new body, but it still hasn't and it's bothering him quite a lot. He's always been very clean and this is a lot to get used to.
I wonder, if I made him clothes, would he wear them? I'm getting better at thread magic, I think I could make something that would catch and collect most of the soot so he doesn't constantly shed all over everything. It really isn't an issue, out here in the middle of nowhere, but I think it would make him more comfortable, mentally. Maybe not physically, he's never really liked clothes. I believe it's an issue of pride—very few elementals wore clothes back in the old days, he tells me. He was only ever glad to wear armor. Still. I'll ask him about it.
Year 3, December 12
Queen Toriel's Journal Entry
Gaster arrived safely for our meeting. The dragon and a few of the Royal Guards are stationed around the house, which I've heard is starting to look more like a real house and less like a pile of rubble.
He looks stronger than before, with the same subtle, softspoken strength as always. Just seeing him soothes some of the pain and uncertainty in my soul. I did get one nasty shock, he hadn't prepared me for the extent to which he'd been stained by the elemental's corrupted magic. What I could see of his bones were dirty grey instead of the usual pale color. But he seemed cheerful. He said he was working on a book and he liked the peace and quiet, that it reminded him of the peace of the cloister in his time with the monks on the Surface. He said when it got too quiet he sang. He said G had found a place where there's a crack in the cave ceiling, where one could see light through the Barrier from the outside world and that the elemental sat there for long hours, staring upward. That it seemed to soothe his mind, and that Gaster was glad to see him become more contemplative. He asked if I had any seeds he could plant there. I gave him some. I wonder if they will grow.
I watched him leave, walking away through the crowd all stained and dark with the spear on his back, and then I wondered again if this had been the right choice or if I were just being a fool. He shouldn't be kept out there alone in the darkness with an unstable elemental. We need him here.
I wonder how much of these feelings are personal.
—
By year 50, the city that had been named Home in honor of the Fallen King Asgore had fresh running water, utilizing aqueducts that travelled from springs in Waterfall. The barrier at the city gate remained in place. Guards patrolled the area below the openings in the ceiling, where the Barrier, and some light from the sun, was visible. This area was considered a security risk, but as time passed and it became clear that the humans didn't care about their continued existence as long as they stayed inside the mountain, more and more monsters took to picnicking there, under the light. Queen Toriel made the place a garden.
By year 100, monsters were starting to move out of the fortified city of Home and take up residence in the developing town of Snowdin.
In year 109, Queen Toriel stopped requiring Cantarell Gaster to visit and report on the exile's condition yearly. He was now required to report only every five years, though he was allowed to visit more often if he cared to. However, the elemental was still banned from leaving the dark plains at the very edge of the cavern.
Queen Toriel and Gaster continued to exchange letters regularly, but the letters now rarely had to do with Gaster's mission. Gaster had taken up weaving and sewing and sent fabric and clothes into Home, originally as donations, but as the society of monsters became more stable Queen Toriel convinced him to sell them.
In year 232, a slime monster living in Waterfall developed a method of magically lighting crystals for an extended period of time. Monsters had observed long before that it was possible to create a spark of light by flooding crystals with magic, but until now they had been unable to make the light last. Over the next few years the Underground became much brighter, but it was still very dark. Generations of monsters were growing up light-starved, and Queen Toriel encouraged further scientific research into the properties of crystals, hoping to solve the problem once and for all. But it seemed that crystals would only give off so much light, and usually a dull, cool-colored light. Nothing like sunlight or firelight—rare now because of the scarcity of available fuel.
Cantarell Gaster did his own independent research. He was fascinated with movement, waterwheels and pulleys and aqueducts. He theorized on the causes of wind, gusts of which wandered down through unseen cracks in the ceiling.
The elemental, who now referred to himself simply as G, began farming water sausages to supplement the food they received from Home. He was now able to exert at least some level of control over his soot output, helped by the thick black clothes he wore, woven and stitched and saturated with cleansing magic by Gaster. An odd smell clung to his clothes, like ozone. His soot had a sharp stinging thick smell, but beyond making a mess it didn't appear to cause any ill effects. It made great fertilizer for the water sausages and the flowers now flourishing beneath the ceiling crack in the side-passage.
In year 307, on one of his royally mandated trips into town, Gaster met a monster with lightning magic and became obsessed with its properties. Toriel gave him permission to travel to Home regularly to conduct tests.
G wandered farther and farther from home, exploring the remoter parts of Waterfall and Snowdin Forest. He avoided being seen on these excursions, and Gaster said nothing.
In year 380, Gaster created a lightbulb, which rapidly burned out. But the brightness and the warm quality of the light were enough to fascinate the monsters, and the Queen, who ordered further research to be done. Gaster now had a small lab set up at his house, and would travel to Home, where an independent Royal lab researched similar subjects, to compare notes with the other scientists.
In year 604—2003 in the outside world—G, walking through Snowdin Forest, accidentally met someone.
A/N: It's been too long but I LIIIIIVE! Dang, since I last updated this fic I joined three new fandoms and started two new fics for one of them. Of course without FINISHING any of my CONTINUING fics first because I AM A FOOL.
"I would like to make this a longer entry but I have a feeling that if I try, I won't finish it; so in the name of promptness I'll post as is. My next will be longer.
I pray for your health,"
-Trefoil
