Ebott was a dry, bleak little city so flat & uninteresting you could watch the cars speed down the highway for hours before they'd finally disappear. If you took the entirety of the Sahara's dry barrenness, sprinkled it in with a little of Chicago's crime rate and pollution, and squished it all together into one little town, the resulting concoction would strongly resemble Ebott. Aside from the mountain, of course, but even that was less than spectacular. Besides, it's kind of pathetic when you realize the defining characteristics of your city are the consistency of crippling debt, chipped paint & cracks on every single building, and a pile of rocks looming over you that block out eighty percent of the sunlight for at least the latter half of the day. "Ebott sunset" we called it, as if giving it a name would make it any less infuriating.
Sometimes the worst thing you could do was try and look at what lie beyond the city, which was always accompanied by a grim reminder that there really was nothing, save for the miles and miles of chipped earth the color of rust.
All of that pretty much sums up why the moment I finally regained consciousness and found myself not only free of any physical pain, but also surrounded by the fullest crimson leaves I'd ever seen in my life, I nearly fainted again.
At first, I was skeptical. As skeptical as someone who'd had just groggily woken up with drool sliding down their face could be, anyway. My mind still hadn't fully come to terms with the fact that the things I'd seen down here were real. It felt more like I had escaped from one dream and fallen right back into another.
Not to mention the last time I'd been miraculously healed after a life-threatening injury resulted in a round of good old-fashioned attempted murder by use of friendliness pellets.
That damn Flower. That damn, damn flower! What kind of...abomination would go through the trouble of helping someone out and gaining their trust just to kill them moments later? He could've just as easily finished me off the second I came limping up to him on the verge of death. He was like a cat, torturing and playing with whatever prey he caught instead of granting them the dignity of a swift death.
Still, I guess it had worked out in my favor, in a way. I was still alive and kicking, and thanks to him, I had way more information about this world than I would've if he'd never shown up in the first place.
Maybe we were both tools.
Even as my thoughts cleared, I still found myself reluctant to get up. My head rested on something...soft and cozy. Like, unnaturally soft and cozy. I hadn't slept on a bed this comfortable since...
...Ever, actually. Usually the best I had was an old tattered mattress and a rigid bed frame. Or, on nights where I felt like being pissy and arguing, a miserable park bench. Which, surprisingly, wasn't much worse.
I guess you could say I sort of lost myself in the moment. The leaves, the comfort, and the gentle sound of trickling water in the distance all worked together in this weird gravitational pull to keep me in place. It felt like nirvana after what I'd been through.
Maybe It wouldn't be so bad to lay there...
...for just a little while longer...
...
...
My eyes shot open. Something was shifting around under my head.
I rolled over until I was staring straight up. I hadn't been laying on a bed or pillow.
The talking flower, without a doubt, easily, had been the strangest thing I'd ever seen, but the anthropomorphic goat took not only the cake, but the whole damn bakery.
And I had been laying on her lap.
"Ah, you're awake," it said in a cordial woman's voice, a bright smile on its face.
"SHIT!"
I leaped to my feet and sprinted as far away as I could, the crunching of leaves following my footsteps, which turned out to be a grand total of about three feet. I found myself wedged into a small corner, no real method of escape in sight.
The creature yelped in surprise and sprang to her feet.
"D-don't be afraid, my child," she stammered. "I didn't mean to frighten you-"
"-Stay back!" I said, trying to make my voice as intimidating possible. I quickly scanned the ground for a weapon, or anything to defend myself with. I settled on nature's deadliest creation; a two foot long stick.
Did I say nature's deadliest creation? I meant the worst thing ever.
"Stay back," I repeated. "I have a stick!" Yep, no way to make that sound menacing.
It seemed unfazed by my threats. As if that was a shock. "I have no intention of harming you," it said calmly, hands poised neatly in front of her. "My name is Toriel."
I didn't lower my guard. Not for a second. I'd learned my lesson from before, even if my supposed attacker had the guise of a sweet old lady.
'Toriel' possessed the typical appearance you might expect from any woman barely old enough to be a grandmother. You know, aside from the whole...goat, thing. Gentle features peppered with wrinkles, warm friendly smile, soft eyes worn from years of experience...horns, long white floppy ears covered in fur...
"Is something wrong, my child? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I felt frozen in place. What wasn't wrong? Did she honestly just expect me to accept this incredibly bizarre world as a reality?
In this world, it's kill or be killed, Flowey's words echoed in my ears.
My grip on the stick tightened. I could feel the rough bark digging into my skin. The sooner I accepted that I was basically a soldier lost behind enemy lines, the better chances I had of surviving. Part of me was ready to lash out against Toriel, and that feeling got stronger and stronger every second she stood in front of me.
Toriel's eyes widened. "Oh, of course you'd be confused..." she chastised herself, literally face-palming. Or, snout palming, I guess. "Please forgive me, it's been a very long time since another human has come here."
My heart leapt. "There are others?" I asked, dubious. If she were telling the truth, and I weren't the only person to ever come here, then all the legends surrounding Mt. Ebott were more than just legends. Something, anything familiar would be comforting right about now, anyways, even if they were total strangers.
Huh...I could practically taste the irony in that.
She sent me an apologetic smile. "Yes, but they have long since moved on from the Ruins..." she trailed off, all without meeting my gaze.
I felt my eyes shooting daggers at her. "Okay, if you want me to trust you, we need to get a few things straight," I began. Toriel snapped her attention back to me. "First of all, don't dance around my questions. And if I catch you lying, I won't think twice about shoving this stick up your...places." It was an empty threat, really. The biggest thing I'd ever killed was probably a cockroach. "Second of all, cut it out with the 'my child' shit. I'm fifteen," I proudly proclaimed.
Toriel seemed to be absorbing my words carefully.
My mind finally caught up to speed since waking up, then kicked into overdrive. The last thing I'd seen before blacking out were a pair of feet that matched her's perfectly, which probably meant that sweet little Tori here had summoned that fireball and saved my ass from that flower. And if I'd pissed her off, there's no telling why she couldn't conjure it again.
When she opened her mouth to speak again, I nearly panicked and lunged at her. But the fear of being turned to cinder kept me in place.
Kill or be killed.
"I realize that you must be scared. And I don't know what that scoundrel flower said to you before I got there..." She bent down enough so she was eye-level to me. "But I can promise you, as long as you are within my care, no harm will come to you." Then she extended her hand.
I swear I stood there staring at it for centuries. She spoke with enough confidence that I knew her words were sincere. It sounded vaguely...motherly, I guess, although outside of my matron no one everused that tone with me. Without getting decked in the face, that is.
When I was young, I taught myself never to put too much trust in any one person. It was one of the first rules you learn in cities like Ebott. That and "everyone sucks," which really go hand in hand. Flowey proved that himself. But Tori might be my best chance at survival for now, and she gave me no reason to believe she wanted me dead.
Before I knew what was happening, my hand was enveloped by hers in a tender handshake. My uncertainty abated when she grinned at me. A smile that bright could've ended World War II. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," I said snottily. I finally let my stick-wielding arm dangle by my side. It'd grown so stiff the stick felt more like an arm-extension then anything.
She chuckled, "You have quite the sense of humor there...oh." She looked at my quizzically. "Forgive me, what should I call you?"
She liked my 'sense of humor,' huh? Maybe she'd like a little more.
"Jeez lady, you're asking for a lot of forgiveness..." I muttered, shuffling from foot to foot. "Not sure I have that much." For that little extra comedic effect, I turned over my pockets. Nothing but a few crumpled up pieces of lint tumbled out. "Yep, fresh out." I quickly tucked them back in and changed the subject before she could reply. "So, you mentioned something about 'The Ruins'?"
"Right, forgive me-" she cut herself off mid sentence. Her lips pursed. "Never mind. Follow me, I'll guide you through the Ruins, young one." With that, she spun around swiftly on her heels and marched off.
"H-hey, wait up!" I cried, charging after her. Her feet padded up the right most of a pair of smoothed stone staircases, taking two steps at a time.
"I am the caretaker of the Ruins," she called over her shoulder. "I pass through here everyday to see if anyone has fallen down." I ducked after her through a small opening in the wall.
"Really? You must have a hell of a lot of time on your hands then..." I murmured. Toriel already walked briskly, the fact that she towered at least two feet over me made it even harder to keep up. Her strides were the equivalent of my jogging speed.
"You'd be surprised," she chided. "There's quite a lot I have to get done everyday."
"I'll believe it when I see it." As much as I teased her, Tori hadn't done anything to majorly piss me off. Yet. Everyone always managed to find a way, and Tori's unwavering kindness could turn from a blessing to burden real quick.
We came to an abrupt halt in the next room. Toriel was planted in front of a set of double doors, beaming at me like a six-year old who managed to stay up on their big boy bike for more than five seconds. "Welcome to your new home, innocent one!" she bellowed, enthusiastically gesturing behind her with her massive arms (compared to mine, anyways.)
Apparently my response of an openly blank stare caught her off guard. "Er...what's wrong?" she asked.
A lot, actually. For starters, 'innocent one' was about as bad as 'my child' for a nickname. And judging by this room alone, the Ruins would be about as good a living place as Ebott.
Which wasn't saying much.
While it wasn't nearly as dark as I'd expect the, ya know, Underground to be, the walls, despite seeming to be carved from stone, were a really out of place lavender color, which went to war with the natural worn out and crack-ridden look that stone naturally developed over time, and this place looked ancient. As a caretaker, Tori was doing one hell of an awful job. 'Course the lack of any furniture kind of sucked, too.
Believe it or not, though, I didn't feel like arguing with and/or being showered in Toriel's unwavering sympathy. When I finally gathered my words, I gave her the easy answer. "...Nothing."
"Good, you had me going there for a second," she said, not bothering to try and hide her sharp breath of relief. "As I was saying," she continued, clearing her throat and flattening her dress like a school teacher. "Allow me to educate you in the operation of the Ruins." With that, she sped over a few switches protruding from the ground, flattening them, and finally pulled a lever hanging on the wall.
At first, nothing happened, aside from my brain cells popping. Then the double doors lurched open, clanging against the wall with enough force to send chunks of rubble flying towards my unsuspecting face.
I straight-up shrieked at the top of my lungs, suddenly unable to process jack-shit. Good thing my limbs usually work before my mind does.
I ducked the debris milliseconds before it connected with my skull. It was still close enough for me to feel it whizzing through my hair at the speed of whoa. The projectile rocketed into the wall behind me, shattering and sending shrapnel ricocheting. None of it was large enough to do any major damage, but it definitely stung as the bullets pelted my back.
Mr. Brain finally decided to rejoin the party after the echo died down and all the dust settled. I glanced back at Toriel, who must have been even more shaken up than I was. She stood dumbstruck and stock-still right where she'd been the moment she pulled the lever. Thank God none of the wreckage had flown her way, or she'd have been freaking obliterated.
"Tori, you okay?" I hailed, my voice still wavering. At the sound of my voice, she seemingly snapped back to reality.
"Are you unharmed?!" She wailed, sprinting towards me, crouching down, and throwing her arms around me all in the span of about one second.
"D-yes, I'm fine!" I struggled. Damn, she had the grip of a wrestler.
"I'm so sorry! Nothing like this has ever happened before, oh I've failed to protect you already..." She went on and on and on about how she fumbled her responsibilities and should be a better guardian and blah, blah blah blah blah, blah. I would've respected her dedication, if her strangle-hold of an embrace wasn't making the bruises on my back sting even harder.
"Tori, seriously, I'm all right!" I pleaded. "Do I look hurt to you?" She immediately went to scan the entire front-half of my body for any sort of injury whatsoever, and thankfully found none. "See?" I asked as her observation came to a halt. Without answering, she slid over to me and raised her sleeve to the side of my face.
Of all the things she could've done at the moment, she was honestly trying to wipe the dried saliva still sticking to my face from when I woke up.
"S-stop, I'll get it myself-"
"-No, hold on...just let me-" We grappled for a minute over who got the privilege of swabbing my face. Three hours later and I managed to force her off me long enough to wipe it on my sleeve.
"Jeez, happy!?" I demanded.
Her eyes sunk towards the ground. "I know I can be a bit of a worrywart, but I'm doing my best to look out for you..." she said quietly.
Great. Way to make me feel bad. Still, I don't think I could place the last time someone had been genuinely concerned with me. And the sooner she cheered up the sooner we could get moving, so...
"Hey, remember I'm fresh out of forgiveness...but I guess I can spare an apology or two..." I finished with a smirk.
As if today hadn't been surprising enough, Toriel burst out laughing. Like, hardcore, "holy-shit I'm going to die that was so funny" laughter. It filled up the emptiness of the room, and if they'd been listening closely enough, people probably could've heard it back on the surface. "Okay, calm down, it wasn't that funny...plus I think you spit in my eye."
She climbed back to her feet and attempted to regain her composure. "He he...ha...I think you might just be the second funniest person I've ever met."
I raised an eyebrow. "Who's the first?" It was hard to tell through her fur, but...was she blushing?
"Anyway, as you could see back there..." she gestured to the pile of scrap that was a doorway. Seriously, even the heavy iron doors themselves lay in a cluttered heap against stacks of crumbled stone. I think there was just enough room for us too squeeze in, but it would be a tight fit. Especially for her. "...The Ruins are filled with puzzles. Ancient fusions between diversions and doorkeys." Her voice had retained it's odd mix of friendliness and wisdom, although part of me was annoyed she'd reiterated back to dodging questions as well. "One must solve them to move from room to room."
"Like The Legend of Zelda?" I chimed in.
"Sure, but it's a secret to everybody," she replied. "Please adjust yourself to the sight these kinds of puzzles."
Before I had to chance to ask whether or not that was a reference, she climbed through the wreckage that was a doorway and continued on.
"For someone who claims to be a guardian, she sure does a piss-poor job of waiting up for people..." I muttered to myself. Just as I prepped myself to take a running leap over the carnage, I caught a glimpse of something just out the corner of the eye.
Honestly, I was surprised I missed it at first. A marble plaque clung to the wall right next to the ruined doorway, proudly watching over the rest of the room, as if it believed itself to be the guardian instead of Tori. Curious, I meandered over to it. The plaque may have very well been older than the room itself just judging by how fading the inscription had become. I practically had to press my nose against it just to make the writing out.
Only the fearless may proceed.
Brave ones, foolish ones, both walk not the middle road.
Normally I would have just ignored it, but...
...why did those words send shivers up my spine?
"Brave ones, foolish ones, both walk not the middle road..." I read again, aloud this time. I absentmindedly ran my hand along it's chiseled surface, chilling my fingertips to the bone. Where had I heard that before? I knew that quote. Had it memorized, even. I felt the answer prickling in the back of my mind, lodged between a rock and a hard place, nagging at me.
Only the fearless may proceed...
In this world, it's kill or be killed...
All of a sudden, I didn't feel so welcome down here anymore.
"Are you coming, My Chi- I mean, young one?" Came Tori's call.
I shook my head. There were better things to be worrying about other than quotes from however-many-generations ago. Like food, for example. My stomach grumbled at just the thought alone. How long had it been since I last ate or drank anything? Hours, at the least...maybe a day at the most.
"On my way, Tori!" I yelled back. With that, I pretended to forget about the plaque's strange words and jumped through the doorway.