*Bad case of writer's block has plagued me as of late. I've been noticing that these chapters have been taking longer and longer to write as time goes on. Flat-out re-writing entire segments has started to become normal instead of a rarity. Things have been happening outside of my control that have gotten in the way. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter.
CHAPTER 8 - Return
The sun is positioned to be after noon.
The second sunset that Frisk and her companions have seen would be the first for many.
A rider in a red cloak concealing every detail about him rode out from the fourth gatehouse past the monsters' camp. The monsters attention was caught by the rider's horse - a black shire that at first glance towered over those around it, and the rider was no less a sight to behold. The gallop was great, and the speed surprisingly contained care in it's haste.
Papyrus and Undyne were amid a conversation about what to cook for supper and were asking the local humans for advice and general pointers. As they conversed, the rider and his towering steed passed by; catching the group's attention. They took a pause and watched the rider and his horse until they passed through the final and out-most gatehouse.
One of the conversing humans; a blacksmith paused his repair of an old sword. "Was that Lord Gale, riding past us just now?"
Undyne raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
One of the accompanying human soldiers stirred in his seat. "Lord Gale, the man who fights like a raging storm."
Another human spoke-up "I heard when Gale was a kid, he killed sixty bandits by himself with a stick! A STICK!"
A third human; sitting in the corner, clothes black as night, carrying a two-handed sword, his armor being of splint and half-plate added to the mongering.
"I've seen the man fight. Those rumors be true, aye. But you know what I think?"
Everyone turned to silence in anticipation to the man in black's next words.
"He fights like he knows who is going to do what, and when. Sometimes I hear him count under his breath. Fifteen, twenty-four, nine, but with no context to what he's counting to. Could our Lord commander be something older and more ancient than this castle that holds us? Make no mistake my friends. Within Gale is, indeed a mystery in a mystery."
The blacksmith resumed his work on the sword, shaking his head. "Don't mind them, Lord Undyne-"
"Captain Undyne" the fish-lady interrupted.
"... Yes, captain. Anyways; Rumor and legend surrounds that man and our king to a lesser extent like a thick mist. All o' what they say 'bout them should be taken with grains of salt of various shapes and sizes."
Papyrus's eye-brows saddened. "I WOULD, BUT I FORGOT IT AT HOME WITH THE PEPPER."
. . .
One hour later, over on the far side of the district at the third gatehouse - the divider between the seccond and third layers of defense was a man with blonde hair, a fully-grown unmaintained beard. His face concealed with a faded, tattered green cloak, and a quarterstaff in hand. He was heading in the direction of the monsters' camp in the fourth ring. No one recognized him. The cloaked man ducked to the walkways near the buildings to bypass a patrol of his own troops.
One by one, the guards, soldiers, and serfs had passed by their king, not recognizing him. Of all those traveling to and from their posts, only one guard stuck out like a sore thumb. He was short, young and had seen less than fourteen winters in his life; his green gambeson bore two full stripes of gold in a diagonal pattern. His presence was controversial concerning his age, yet Jyack - the young retainer that he was, approached and walked past his King - the one he called father, unable to detect even his presence until ten paces after passing him. When Jyack looked back after feeling Adrian's presence, the tall man in the sickly, faded, barely green cloak was gone, as if he manifested and vanished in an instant.
The man with the green cloak lowered his head. Adrian was physically drained from his mad run from the castle to where he currently stood. He didn't have it in him to call out to Jyack at the moment. Whether exhaustion or cowardice, Adrian couldn't confront the boy he once called son.
Adrian paused for a moment as he observed Jyack look around as if he's seen a ghost, then abandon his search and resume returning to his post. Adrian's thoughts returned to him, and the concealed King pressed onward.
"You're hurting!"
Adrian's recollection of Frisk's words from their meeting raised his head. As a star dispersing a suffocating darkness, something in his *SOUL was reawakening. Through the pain from loss and from beyond, he believed he will persevere. His thoughts were interrupted as he ducked into an alleyway and saw his path blocked by a short, stocky skeleton with a strange grin on his face. The cloaked king paused, then called out.
"Hey" Adrian greeted, straightening himself.
"heya" the skeleton replied.
King Adrian continued the conversation.
"Are you one of King Asgore's folk?"
"that i am."
"Could you please take me to him?"
"sure. just follow me."
"I apprecia- wait, what?" King Adrian followed, then paused as the short skeleton walked past Adrian in the opposite direction of the monster's camp.
"shortcuts, my friend. your fortress has tons of 'em." The skeleton spoke. Adrian froze, his expression was of bewilderment.
"But... How though?"
"between you and me, let's just say i have a knack for getting to and from places quickly without getting spotted."
"That sounds... Useful. Who are you?"
"name's sans. sans the skeleton. yours?"
"Adrian."
"king adrian?"
"How did you know?"
"i didn't."
"I don't believe you."
"alright, fine. Frisk told me."
"The Ambassador?"
"yea. i'm a friend of hers."
Both of them paused their conversation for a moment. Before they departed through 'the shortcut', Adrian spoke.
"Friend..."
Sans paused, then looked at the old king. He stared deep until he could see his soul.
Yeesh. They were not joking about this man's state. I feel like I'm about to loose my one HP from just looking at his *SOUL. That poor thing looks like a purple stain glass window that got vandalized with black paint, then glued-back together with cement mix. His LV, XP, and other stats? I think it'd be best I leave those sleeping dogs lie.
"This way" Sans ushered the king. Adrian followed.
. . .
At the outermost gatehouse of Green Gold's fortress, three characters stand ready to depart back to Mount Ebbot.
Despite the great goal being accomplished, life and time still continued.
In his hand, Asgore held a piece of paper with a list of tasks - each written down with care.
"Is this everything?" He asked Toriel and Frisk, who were beside him.
Toriel gave a confident nod. Frisk followed suit.
"Everything is in order. Alphys has taken the flower with the mold on it to study in her lab, Undyne and Papyrus are staying behind to cook a giant dinner for everyone. All we need is Sans to come back from his errand with Muffet and we'll be to and back from Mt Ebbot before anyone even knows we've gone."
Toriel spoke. Her words resounding of a confidence in those she spoke of, followed by a short pause...
"Speaking if which, where is he?" Asgore replied.
"right here, big guy." a familiar voice called out from behind the group. Toriel turned to the source of the voice.
"Hey Sans how ar- who's that you've brought with you?"
The man in the green cloak approached. Asgore, Frisk, and Toriel stared blankly at the man that was breathing heavily from what could be assumed as an absolute marathon of a sprint. With heavy huffs, puffs, and what Undyne would've criticized as a bad breathing technique if she had remained present. The cloaked man eventually caught his breath. Frisk recognized the man immediately despite his identity concealment, and called out to him.
"Adrian!"
Frisk stepped forward to approach, but was immediately grabbed by Toriel who held her tight.
"My child, wait!"
Until King Adrian caught his breath and was able to speak, a silence ensured. Asgore eventually spoke up.
"Er, King Adrian! My apologies. We needed to head back to Mt. Ebbot to grab some supplies. What are you doing here?"
The human king could only mutter as his eyes darted between Asgore and Toriel. The expression on Adrian's face dove from some semblance of positive to straight-up blank. His eyes fixed on Toriel, then moved to Asgore, then Frisk. Adrian's blank stare then receded into his hood. No one could see his face, but they could see his grip tighten around his staff.
Toriel shot a glance at Asgore, remaining silent. Asgore replied in her place.
"King Adrian, this is my wife Toriel."
Toriel, still holding Frisk by her side followed-up. "Nice to meet you, King Adrian."
Adrian only nodded in reply and simple acknowledgement. Toriel continued.
"I see that you've left quite the impression on Asgore and my child..."
Adrian remained silent, but after closing his eyes for a second or two, he speaks.
"Frisk, it's good to see you... Again."
Frisk nods in response. Her hand still on the locket, and Toriel's arms around her waist. Frisk catches the expression on Adrian's face. For only a moment, there's a barely visible smile that resembles a certain kindness, but it fades the moment it's spotted.
The three inspect Adrian. In full light of the sun and out of the dark, cold interior of his throne room, Adrian was visible in detail that was otherwise impossible in that cold room. His green cloak that concealed him for all that time was the color of a destroyed green that was mistakable for a flavored grey and was in need of repair. His eyes, though shrouded and covered by his tattered mint grey cloak still reflected a barely visible, grey-blue and his skin was pale from his time in the dark.
King Adrian spoke.
"King Asgore, I needed to ask you. It's important."
"What's wrong? "Asgore replied.
Adrian paused, took a long breath, and lowered his head. His thoughts amuck.
When I first saw you... Back at the Keep... We've never met before then, but yet... I felt like I was meeting an old friend... A best friend... for the first time...
King Adrian paused. His mouth was slightly open, the group was giving him their full attention - albeit, somewhat divided. Moments passed, Adrian's mouth poised to move.
"I... I wanted to ask..."
Adrian felt a pat on his back. Sans stepped forward and nodded at the human king, then turned to face Asgore.
"he wants to come with us to see Mt Ebbot. personally, i'd like to see him try some melted snow."
Asgore raised an eyebrow. "Any objections to having him as company?"
No one spoke a word. Asgore nodded.
"Alright. King Adrian, it's good to have your company today and an honor to show you our home."
Adrian nodded. "Thank you, King Asgore."
Frisk felt Toriel's grip tighten around her. Frisk looked up to see her face. Throughout all Frisk's resets and travels, she had never seen that expression before. Toriel's expression was cut from the same cloth as concern, but on a different level; a deeper level.
"Toriel, are you okay?" Frisk asked.
Toriel picked-up Frisk and held her close, then she whispered into Frisk's ear.
"Please, trust me on this. Stay close to me."
Frisk nodded. Unsure, yet trusting.
"Yes, Mom."
*Okay, so yeah. This had alot more info crammed into it than I thought. This actually just might be the last chapter of book one or the second-to-last chapter, to which I'll just write short stories for this setting, or perhaps leave it alone until I can plan ahead for chapters instead of writing them on the spot.
Just turned 21 today, so that's nice. Thank you all for your time thus far and I hope to get another chapter (or perhaps a short story) done soon.
Also, I have no idea what Adrian and Gale's Levels of violence would be, so if you've read this far, shout some number out that you think sounds reasonable and I guess I'll meditate on it.
Again, thank you all for your time and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.