Chapter 44
Thoughtlessly kindUndyne lifts the sectioned metal chair that Alphys uses for her magic examination and follows her instructions on how to fold it. The metal only groans once and it's only because Alphys made her laugh and she gripped it too tight. This time around they're moving to a new safehouse together and she fondly remembers the first time they moved into an apartment;they made a great team back then too.
"So, is that all of it? I barely broke a sweat!" And it was true, even if that was partly due to the fact it was winter.
"Hai, all that's missing is our clothes and stuff."
"Pshh, yeah, but we can just throw that in the back seat."
Alphys smiled and shook her head, once she would've compared this to the exciting playfulness before someone asks someone else out, like having a crush on someone and being quite sure they feel similarly. But this was different, both exciting and comfortable, she didn't mind if Undyne knew; she was just happy being with her. They were good friends again and Alphys was still enjoying that fact too much to give anything else much thought.
"My clothes are packed, we can put them in the van now to save time. I really have to go call Papyrus." She fidgets with her handlink as Undyne slams the van door closed and they head inside.
"Yeah, sure, I gotta finish packing all my junk, still got some stuff in the wash. You want me to go with you?"
"I don't mind, I'm just going to-" A fanfare ridden melody blares from the handlink, speak of the devil, Papyrus is requesting a conference. An emergency conference.
They scramble for the living room downstairs, Alphys trips on her way there, Undyne picks her up on reflex and after a shared glance, she carries the doctor down the steps at full speed. She throws her onto the couch easily, Alphys falls already seated and throws the handlink at her, which she catches in midair and slamdunks into the port. They grin like idiots and high-five each other, giggling, but their faces fall when the call finally comes through.
"CAN YOU HEAR ME? Finally! I have something to tell you-NOT NOW MILES! TELL THEM IF THEY DON'T WANT TO FIND OUT HOW I GOT THIS SCAR THEY BETTER SIT TIGHT AND WAIT TILL I RETURN!" Papyrus is screaming, but that's normal, it's the sweating that's worrying, Papyrus only sweats when he's distressed. His good eye is literally on fire with magic and the camera shakes as if he's moving to and fro.
Something is awfully wrong.
"The hell...?" Snarls Undyne.
"NO TIME! There has been an attack, the guards have kept the news from Sans and Frisk, but they can't keep it up! Frisk has found a new host and the guards were helping them, even though they think nobody knows they're sneaking out, but we need to let them both in on the loop now because they need to LEAVE! This has gone into a terrorist level threat and we're-"
"STOP!" Undyne roars, then says in a more subdued tone. "I can't understand what the hell yer saying, Paps!"
"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt again sir, but the press says they want you to speak to them, now, sir."
"MILES I SAID I'LL BE RIGHT THERE, CONFOUND IT! Undyne that's no way to speak to a fellow guard!"
"Cut the crap dude, what happened?"
"Dahlia attacked a convoy, released monster prisoners, she's a terrorist now. Frisk found the new host, the guards know they're sneaking out to see them but Sans doesn't and somebody needs to tell them both they're moving again because weneedtogetthemasfarawayfromDahliaaspossible!" He pauses to pant and they stare at him in horror. Undyne is the first to recover.
"Ya got it, boss."
"We got this, Papyrus! It's going to be alright!" Alphys nods firmly.
He sighs and smiles, tiredly. "Thank you, my friends!" He nods then the call cuts off. They fall back to their seats, sitting quiet, processing what happened as Papyrus' information files are transferred one by one into the handlink.
"Do you want me to be there or...?"
"Y-Yes, please."
Alphys runs a hand over her head frill and Undyne pats her shoulder sympathetically, this is not going to go over well.
Tommy knocks on the door for good measure, a sign of respect if he ever gave one, even if she is a warrior he still considers her a lady.
"Come in, Tommy, ya don't gotta knock when I can hear ya comin from a mile away."
He steps in and they share a sharp toothed grin.
"They're ready."
"Ya give em some good clothes?"
"O course I did, Dahl, who do ya think I am?" He crosses his arms and eyes her with a mild frown, she's still wearing one of those guard pantsuits.
"Right. Okay. Ya wanna help me out?"
"Ya don't gotta ask. Ya sure you don't wanna change?"
"No. I...I was a guard, an I still am, sorta. I don't wanna act like it never 'appened."
He nods seriously at this and leads her out. In the spacious living room of Tommy's hideout the meeting table has been set up, but instead of weapons or plans the table is laden with food. All the chairs are filled with monsters who, until recently, had been incarcerated. They look around nervously, muttering amongst themselves, until their eyes focus on her.
"That's Dahlia Horne, the one in the news!" One of them murmurs loudly and they all join in some furious whispering. A few members of Tommy's gang stand around the room, but they're not really paying them too much attention, they're not here to intimidate or guard them, only to make sure they don't step out of line.
"Well I guess ya don't need no introduction." Tommy says to her, the monsters at the table go quiet and stare expectantly but the only sits down and starts to eat.
Tommy then goes around asking them their names and what they did before they were captured, as well as their charges. The next hour or so is a compilation of unfortunate and unfair stories, mostly based on false accusations. When they are done with their stories and the meal has been consumed Dahlia stands, they all wait in quiet anticipation.
"Well I dunno what y'all are expecting but I'm not one ta make speeches an I don't really have anythin to tell ya 'cept for what I think."
She starts to pace slowly until she stands next to Tommy, he nods in agreement and sits back like the others to listen.
"Most 'a us come from tha mountain, or tha valley, or wherever it is yer barrier was, we all came from some sorta prison. We live in a different world now though, one where we're supposed to be free...But we're not."
The monsters grumble in agreement, the oldest ones stay mostly quiet and she continues.
"We work hard an get paid lil, we can't live in certain parts an we get blamed for shit we didn't do. Now, after tha barrier was broken I was told we needed ta change the way we were, and I was all for it. No more gangs, no more killin'. I wanted to get better, and I did. I fit in." She pulls at her jumpsuit with a claw, as heavily aware as they are that being a guard just didn't mean the same as it used to.
"But now, I see tha playing along just don't make a difference. What's tha point of doing tha right thing all tha time when ya can still get blamed for things ya didn't do? When people can deny ya a job because of how ya look. Tha captain taught us tha we should wait, that time would show everyone we deserve better an eventually tha humans would change their minds." She smiles a bittersweet grin.
"And we can wait, oh boy can we wait. We live so much longer than they do anyway, eventually we might outlive all tha bigots. But why should we spend all those years being miserable? Why should I suffer when I'm doing tha right thing? I'm tired of waiting, I'm tired of being tha better man! I'm tired of taking ya folk ta jail, knowing ya might not have done a damn thing! I'm sick an tired of playin along with their bullshit fer nothin!" Her eyes blaze with magic then, gold and orange fire. Justice and bravery, all she ever needed and what they all they wish they could have.
Tommy sees she's just about done and steps up, putting his hand on her shoulder and skillfully picking up the speech where she left off. "I'm done with their bullshit too. That's why I'm doin this. We're takin our power back, showing them we're not gonna get pushed around!" Dahlia takes his hand and removes it subtly, giving it a pat; she knows what he's doing, but that's just not how she does things.
"I'm gonna do what I can to make a place for us here where we have the same power as they do. I'm gonna get my hands dirty and I know I'm gonna pay for it. Which is why I'm letting you go."
"Dahl-!" Tommy starts.
"No, Tommy. Look guys I'm not recruitin anyone into this mess, I'm fixing my fuck ups. I used to take folk like you to jail, I took humans too. I thought I was being fair, but this system ain't fair, an if it don't work then we need a new one; and I'm gonna try my damnedest to make sure we get it."
"We have no where to go! Now that you busted us out we're fugitives; and ain't none of us gonna go back there." One of the older ones says.
"It's not much of a choice, yer giving us, Lil lady."
"It is, we're all used to hidin. Yer kind won't rat you out an neither will most guards, y'all know that. If you wanna walk away, you can." Dahlia says back, they all know it's true. Almost every monster that lives in the slums has had a run in with the law.
"We missed our chance to fight back, all those years ago. It's not too late to fight now." Says one of the younger monsters leaning forward. The other young ones seem to agree and after some discussion the majority choose to stay and see how it plays out. What started as a vague idea is starting to take shape and the knowledge that she is no longer alone in her quest fills Dahlia with bravery.
Sneaking around had gotten easier and easier each time, perhaps because the guards assumed them sick, an easy lie when you have huge dents under your eyes and a near constant lack of energy. That evening Zunzee takes them on another trip around town, this time with the young man they'd met before. His name is Laurent and though he seems wary of anyone new, he quickly takes a liking to Frisk's gentle and awkward demeanor. They go around the town, Zunzee letting Laurent lead the way through the various stores and back to the riverside hut, gathering ingredients for medicines.
"Laurent here be a mage, lil flé. Show em how ya make da cold remedy boy, go ahead."
"I'm startin to get da feelin yer makin me do ya job, old man." Says the young man with a dazzling smile, but he does so nonetheless. He works hard at a little field beyond the river where Zunzee keeps his herbs, cutting and prepping them to be brewed and leaving the others to hang on a clothes line behind the hut.
They go to the front of the hut by the river and Laurent gets the cooking fire going, he starts picking some herbs from one of the crates he brought from inside and starts piling then inside a mortar, crushing them together with some colored powder. He puts everything into a little pot that hangs over the fire and they talk while he stirs it. The smell is strong but not unpleasant, they can smell honey and lemon but also something very much like peppers in it. Frisk can see they man's soul glowing brighter and brighter as he stirs, his soul is a charming shade of dark green. The magic he's brewing slowly seeps into the liquid and though taste is sharp and spicy they can feel the magic seeping from it as soon as they close their mouth.
"Wah! What's in that thing?" they cough.
"Lotsa peppers flé!" Zunzee replies, throwing his head back and laughing, Laurent snickers and starts to pour the remedy into a large glass bottle.
The feeling of magic does not ebb, it is earthy and solid, as if it were slowly becoming a part of their bones, this was human magic then. It was subtler but they could tell it would last longer than monster magic, which dissipated immediately when consumed. There was something constant about it even if it's effect didn't feel as immediately powerful, persisting is also a strength when it comes to magic. Laurent heads into the hut to put away the cold remedy, Zunzee must've sent him on an errand of some sort because after picking up some herbs he says goodbye and heads back into town.
"He's a good boy dat one, good healah, just like you flé."
"Thanks...Zunzee, there's something I want to ask you. I've been wanting to ask you for a while, actually it…" they didn't know how to say it. Come with me and leave all your life behind? Leave all the people you care about? They could ask Papyrus to protect him but the king had said they wanted to keep all the hosts together and that meant they would have to take him away with them and Ika and eventually the other hosts. 'Come be trapped with me?' would seem more appropriate.
"Ya can tell me anythin, Frisk. No judgemen here." he pats their shoulder and they take a breath and just say it.
"I want you to come with me and my friends. To live with us...and to travel with us. They are-we are trying to find the hosts before Dahlia gets them. She's...she's hunting us down to take the human souls. That's why she killed my friend...to take the human soul from him. There's another one an old lady, you're gonna love her she's-"
"I'm sorry but I can't, lil flé."
"But...I know it sounds weird but my friends will help, I mean Alphys is so smart she might find a way to help you so you're not sick and they can protect you from Dahlia so she-" he places his hand on theirs, they didn't realize until he held it firmly that they were shaking.
"I get it. We need ta be kept safe from her, if she or anyone else takes all da powah, it would be a nightmare. But ya don't get wha I'm tryin ta tell ya. Imma be crystal wit ya, Frisk. I don't want ta keep it."
"What do you mean?"
"I want ya to take dis curse an turn it to a blessing, mon flé. I want ya ta free em, and me 'cause I can't do it mahself."
When they realize what he's asking Frisk shakes their head, forgetting he may not see them, but he must because he nods back slowly.
"If ya call it, it will go wit ya. Dis child an I need ta be free from each otha an I know...its mah time ta go." he says, before starting another coughing fit.
As it passes he takes their hand and puts it on his chest. Under his skin they can feel the fizzling warmth of the human soul, on the verge of emerging from his chest. Frisk knows what he says is true, knows it in the way the green soul seems to call to them, waiting for them to have it, knows it without having to understand why. But they also know that without this Zunzee will definitely die and that the freedom he's asking for is something they're not sure they can give him.
"You can't-I can't do this...and you can't leave the town, they need you."
"Dey don't need me, Laurent does most o my jobs now. People don't need special magicks ta heal, dey need ta help each otha. Dat's not somethin magicks can fix, flé." he smiles bitterly and his fingers tighten over theirs. "Dis is somethin ya can give me, ya can give me peace, and I know that ya can give it ta them too." He gestures between both their chests, smiling and the realization hits them.
"I don't know how to free the human souls, I mean we're just going to keep them safe until...until…"
"Nothin lasts forevah, not even magicks. If dey were once free dere must be a way ta free em again. Find dat, save dem. I know ya can. Ya be kind Frisk, dat is yer strenght."
"Thank you...I will try, but I want you to come with me, please."
He shakes his head and their voice starts to waver with desperation. Why the hell is he so calm? Why is he smiling?!
"I'm in so much pain, flé. Do be kind ta me an let me go. I've waited so long for someone I could trust, someone who wouldn't use dis for demselves. I know ya will do da right ting, I believe ya be doin good. So just call it fo me an let da Baron call me."
He starts to cough again, there are ashes in his mouth again as he lays back against the willow and smiles, waiting patiently. They cry openly now, holding his hand as the green soul sickeningly pounds against his chest, trying desperately to get out. They refuse to call it, they refuse to let him die. But is it really any more cruel than letting him live in constant agony? Which of the two is really the most selfish?
"Ya alright, Alph?"
"I-I'm not, but I'm ready to do this." she says, looking up at Undyne. The guardswoman's soul swells with pride, then they turn on the camera and face everyone.
The camera points to the living room where two guards and Sans sit on the couch. Sans sits off the side his head propped on his chin as if bored, but his feet tap the floor impatiently, Celty sits front and center as the stand in supervisor and to her right another guard nods at Undyne in greeting. After some quick and clipped pleasantries Alphys clears her throat, feeling her resolve steel when Undyne places a hand on her shoulder.
"I-I have news from Papyrus, there's been a...situation."
Sans' eyes flick to her immediately and the light in them fades more and more as she explains, by the time she finishes, his sockets are empty. Then unexpectedly he scrunches his face and lets out a guffawing laugh.
"The hell you talkin bout Alphys, they're right there. They've been sick this whole week, can't even train or anything, I don't think they have it in them to be sneaking out!"
"Sans-"
"Look, their handlink is right there." he shows her his phone, where a map shows Frisk's position merely a few feet away in the room. Alphys' face twists with distaste, she used to track all her loved ones like that and she and Sans had long agreed that was distasteful. "Don't gimme that look, I know what Paps thinks about me hacking his shit but-"
"SANS! Listen to her, they're not there! Ceres and Antoine are with them! Ya need to talk to that little punk and get them back to the house before that crazy bitch finds out where they are! Drag that other host with if ya have to, I don't care what you do, get that kid back in the safe house, dammit!" Undyne yells, losing her composure, there was no time for this nonsense.
"Don't fuckin yell at me! What's wrong with you two?" he growls frustrated, he's about to leave when he feels something pull on his jacket. He turns scowling only to have to look down at Celty.
" , they are correct. Under the king and your brother's orders we have enabled them, they are trying to convince the host to come with us as we speak."
"The hell…?" he tugs his sleeve free from her tiny hands and she lets him go with a sigh.
"We will bring them home now, you have my word. Until later, Dr. Alphys, Guard Undyne." she nods to each respectively and flies off after him.
Alphys and Undyne exchange a look then stare after Sans, they hear him knocking on Frisk's door, calling to them and it becomes too much. They say goodbye to the other guard and give the pilot the go ahead to take off and watch the islands of Japan grow smaller and smaller beneath them. Now all they have left is to break the news to Flowey, but that is something they are better off doing once they reach .
After calling and texting and a whole lot of polite knocking Sans opens the door, seeing the bundled sheets and knowing there's nothing under them. He hears the distinct chime of a voicemail and he walks over, eyes empty, unlocks their handlink and puts it to the side of his skull.
"Yo, Frisk, it's Dan the man, I uh...are you running the Summon stone campaign with us? You haven't logged in for a while and I know you're busy but send me a text when you're free, we can get the guys together. I hope you're ok, uh ok bye!"
He moves on to the next one, Frisk has at least three more messages from their friends and one from their history professor, everyone seems to know something is wrong. The last one is from Sylvia, so of course he listens.
"Hello, Frisk, this is Sylvia. We haven't talked in awhile, I read your e-mail and some of the questions you were asking are troubling me and I think they might be troubling you quite a bit too. Whenever you can please give me a call back so we can talk about this more thoroughly. Stay safe and take care of yourself, alright? Well, I'll speak with you later, bye."
He puts the device on their bedside table, next to one of their fantasy novels, at this point his claws are shaking.
"I know where they are...they need you . They need all of us." Celty says with conviction.
Sans feels his eye light on fire and he turns to her but instead of anger the growl that leaves his mouth is bitter with sadness.
"Take me there."
Frisk watches Zunzee grow weaker, coughing and breathing raggedly, he holds their hand and nods slowly when words fail him. There is a peace to his demeanor that was not there before, like he's let go of something heavy and is prepared to move on. Only they are not prepared to let him go. How can dying be a thing that brings you peace? But how can he be at peace living like this?
Even now they feel the human soul trying to preserve him, he's fighting it, but it is itching to run through his body again, to reawaken all that yearns to sleep in him. To bind him here, the same way they are bound to this world; this that he has now, it is not peace. Frisk can feel it calling, like he said it would, at the edge of their consciousness, just like Chara called to them in their dreams. A wordless plaintive call that is more feeling than sound, a yearning for company, an offer of a truce.
The green is barely contained in his chest, all they have to do is acknowledge them, all they have to do is let them in. They feel him losing himself, his hands start to turn gray, the soul presses against his own more persistently, he can't hold them off any longer. Then Frisk opens the door and though they expect them to rush in, the way they leave him is gentle, as is the way they step inside. It is then Frisk realizes that offering a parting peace is also a form of kindness.
When Laurent returns barely an hour or two after, he finds Frisk crying under the willow. He knows without having to ask that the hougun has passed on, and that the soul of kindness has a new host for he can feel the excess magic building inside Frisk already. When he comes closer they turn to him startled and he stares in wonder at the tears streaming down their cheeks and the motes of light that fly out of the flower in their socket. Yellow and green, beautiful and gentle. He places his arm around their shoulders feeling their bones rattle, then reaches out and pats Zunzee's robes, that are now filled with sparkling gray ashes.
"He be well on his way now, the Baron will be holdin da gate wide open for him. He deserved his rest, thank you." Laurent is smiling, a wide smile, even though he's misty-eyed.
Frisk tries to understand but though it was ultimately peaceful, they cannot help but feel terribly sad. For all the moments they shared with him, and the many others they'd never get to see. Had things been different, if they'd met at another time then maybe...Their soul lurches painfully, something stirs inside it with a familiar sharpness. It feels just like one of their nightmares. But then Laurent calls their name and pats their back to comfort them and the feeling retreats, leaving just a phantom pain in their ribcage and making the flowers inside squirm.
"Try to feel bettah, whad ya just gave him is a gift. He'd asked me ta take the burden of dat soul from him, but I couldn't. Ya have a good soul, I'm glad da power's yours."
Frisk nods but before they can think of what to say they hear a child calling out nearby. They both turn to see the same woman from the other night, her little boy is with her; running their way looking bright and healthy. Laurent stands up and speaks to her in creole, her expression turns serious but peaceful, they approach slowly now. Frisk wipes their face with the back of their hand, trying to cover the ashes from view. They stop a little ways away and talk to Laurent for a while longer then she looks at them and gives them a faint smile before leaving, the boy holding her hand.
"Da people will come soon. Can ya stay wit us til we say g'bye?" He asks softly.
"I want to stay." They say, voice rough with emotion.
Sans looms behind an old crooked willow farther up the ravine, Celty is right by his side and his eye tells him the other guards are not too far away. He watches Frisk release the soul from the host, watches the monster turn to ash, watches them mourn. He feels disgusted with himself for not stopping them, and a creeping familiarity with the scenario. Only the morbidity of watching them suffer as a spectator is much more painful than it was before.
He listens to their conversation and then their crying,forcing himself to bear it. They'd all been hearing them go through this, build up to that choice, he understood why they made it, he would've done the same and yet...he can't stand it. Frisk shouldn't have been brought to the point where the had to help someone kill themselves, this was not what he wanted for them.
His choices mattered little when they seemed to be fated to suffer.
Sans swallows his anger and frustration for now, it won't do anyone any good at this point. He watches as a group of people make their way down to the ravine, he inches forward but Celty holds him back. Their orders are to protect Frisk without interference until they secure the host, they have the host and are in no immediate danger. They choose to stand back and let them go through with it.
The humans gather in a circle, letting Frisk be a part of it as they begin to sing around the pile of ashes. Sans realizes they are sending him off, this is the beginning of a funeral celebration. Laurent leads Frisk in gathering the ashes, they pour them into the robes and tie off the tassels to make it into a sack. The gathering crowd parts to let a pair of men through, they are carrying a plain wooden coffin; one by one the people gather flowers, from the riverside or from the braids in their hair and place them inside. Then the young mother and Laurent arrange the sandals and the robe full of ashes in the middle of the coffin, her little boy places a worn straw doll inside before returning to her side. They are done and the song begins to fade when Laurent picks up the mask thoughtfully.
"It should have a smile, it goes wit him bettah." He says, tracing his finger over where the mouth would be on the mask.
Frisk takes it from his hand and carves a smile on the wood with their sharp fingertips, together they put the mask in the coffin. There aren't enough flowers to completely fill it and the image is somewhat sadder for that; so Frisk sticks their hand into their shirt, pulling out the flowers inside their ribs in clumps and placing them in the coffin. They take a fake breath in then let their magic seep out into the plants; putting everything they have into it, the joy, the sadness, the inevitability, the way they still miss Bliz and their desire to remember.
It flows freely out of them like blood from a wound and the plants soak it up like water, spreading inside the coffin and pushing up the contents until they are tangled with everything inside and almost over flow, turning it into a bed of gold. Then as an afterthought they spread their hands and dip them in, as if gathering water, pulling magic into their fingers to make a crown of golden flowers that they place on the mask. Like Laurent they manage to smile through their tears and let their voice join the song that clearly rings as goodbye.
"This is..."
"Not what I was expecting."
"I d-didn't think...um..."
"So do you want reading or not? I'm going to put it in the closets!" Ika warns slapping her tentacles on the small tea table that's set up with a crystal ball, candles and tarot cards.
Alphys and Undyne exchange a look, then are interrupted by Flowey scuttling into the room.
"Why are you just standing there? Let me unpack and-oh, it's you. Old crazy lady." He acknowledges her with a nod.
"Bratty prince flower." She nods back.
"Excuse me ma'am, I know we had spoken before on the handlink but I believe introductions are in order. I am Argyle O'Harris, magician and scholar at your service." He steps up and shakes her hand, which makes her giggle.
"Ika Baba, fortune teller and host. Good to meet someone with some manners! Do ya want me to read your fortune?"
"I am grateful for your offer but I believe it best you save your powers for our mission."
"Yah, yah. I have too much right now it won't hurt to take a peek."
"Another time, perhaps. We are going to be unpacking for now, I'll be seeing you, ma'am."
She nods and walks along with them as they unpack their things, they have finally made it to the old lab under the mountain and there is much for them to do and not all of it pertaining their research. There are more than a few pending conversations. Undyne goes on patrol with the rest of the guards immediately after helping Alphys unpack her machinery and Argyle prepares to start his research on the barrier leaving Flowey alone with the old squid.
"So...I see you're still trying to make business out of that, aren't cha?"
"No business, I'm on a mission! Do ya want to know your fortune little prince?"
He stares at her, a cold anger apparent behind his thinly veiled playfulness.
"I don't like your riddles old lady, it always sounds like you're scamming people. You're too vague!"
"Ok, I be plain with you. What do you want to know?" She plops to the floor then and there, holding out her hands, now they're at eye level. Flowey looks down at her hands then slowly back to her eyes.
What does he have to lose?
"You better be, old lady. I don't trust you."
Ika smiles and wiggles her hands, he frowns and slowly places his leaves in her hands, letting them slowly stretch into paws, stepping out of the drone as Asriel.
"There's the little prince." She smiles wide, his more expressive face does nothing to hide the sadness in his eyes. "What do ya want to know?"
"I want...to help Frisk, so tell me what I have to do to make that happen."
"I tell you everything I see, when you're ready."
"I'm always ready for the worst, go ahead lady." His lip curls in a snarl as if challenging her, she smiles and nods.
When she looks back up her eye is open and shining a fierce blue. Flowey feels a familiar sharp lurch, the blue magic is lifting instead of weighing him down and the solidity of it brings back the painful memory of their sibling. His soul is lifted yet leaden with the memory of the feeling of human magic.
"I see pain...not too far from now you will find out...something life changing about yourself...and something about Frisk too. When they find the truth they will shatter and when that time comes, you'll be...their strength... you're such good friends, such a good friend." She is crying for some reason, looking at him but somewhat unseeing. "You both will face truth, but it's maybe easier for you... doesn't make it easy at all though, not at all..." She shakes her head and she squeezes his hands.
"What about Dahlia, is she...can I keep them safe? Can we stop her?"
"You can't."
"Fuck it! Why are you telling me this? If you knew they would lose why didn't you tell them before?!" His face distorts, mouth snarling with twisted teeth and vines ripping from his fake clothes and fake fur.
"Because that's Frisk's fight...not yours. Your fight...is with yourself, flower prince." She smiles again and his body calms, though his soul keep pounding in his chest. He feels an overwhelming urge to slap that smile off her face, almost as overwhelming as the urge to be hugged by her and cry.
"Don't believe everything I says, destiny is up in the stars but your fate is in your hands...leaves." she amends looking down at the vines in her hands before he withdraws them.
"...thank you, old lady." He says softly as he turns away.
"You're always welcome, Flowey."
The host's funeral turns into a festivity of sorts, monsterfolk and townspeople come to visit the coffin, sing and to pay their respects. Folk of all walks of life bring food and gifts to the party and share their stories. One of the artisan's, whose arm was healed by Zunzee is carving him a headstone to place it in the cemetery with his parents' and one of the troupes from the parade were planning to add his mask design to their float. Zunzee was a part of the town, a secret yet precious part that deserved to be celebrated and preserved. As the night wears on Frisk decides to head back, Laurent see this and convinces the others to follow them out for one last good bye. Though the prayers and song would go on through to the morning, he knows Frisk would have no other chance to see him off.
The young apprentice carries the ashes and like a procession the crowd goes into the town, through the back alleys and into the bayou, following the dried up ravine until they reach the old willow tree. Their songs start up again and swells to mix with that of the frogs and crickets. Colored candles and clapping hands, they let the ashes fall at the roots of the tree and watch the wind carry them into the night. The tree sways and so do the people around it, sending off the kind healer and the old friend to the other side where suffering really is just a memory.
