Chapter Two: Determining Destiny

"We will persevere, my little dear. If we stay Determined, we shall persevere . . ." the words echoed in his head, along with the sounds of a crackling fire. He sat up, and glanced around. He was in a comfy room, the lights low. He remembered what had happened. He swung his legs out, and noticed the plate with a slice of pie on it. He stared for a moment, and smiled. He carefully picked it up, and opened the door. He glanced around, and saw no one. He inhaled over the pie, and it smelled delicious. He had to thank Toriel. He set the pie down, and left to find her. Past the front door, he found the living room. He saw Toriel, sitting in a chair, reading a book by a crackling fireplace, and something flashed in his eyes. He saw, for the briefest moment, a woman sitting in a similar chair of carved wood, reading a book in a room lit, not by electric lights, but rush candles. As quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.

Toriel noticed him, and smiled as she marked her place and removed her glasses.

"Up already, I see. I want you to know how glad I am to have someone here. There are so many old books I want to share with you. I would love to show you my favorite bug-hunting spot. I've also prepared a curriculum for your education." He blinked in surprise as he came closer. She looked a bit sheepish. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I have always wanted to be a teacher." He smiled and shook his head.

"Not at all, but a very good teacher you'd be." She smiled and looked embarrassed. He smiled. Truth be told, he really had no need of an education, but it couldn't hurt to have some refreshers. Even the most keen mind could dull if not used.

"Thank you, my child. I am very glad to have you living here. Oh, did you want something?" she asked. He smiled and shook his head.

"I wanted to thank you. For everything. It's . . . been a while, since anyone has . . . done what you did . . ." He felt steel bands tightened in his chest as he recalled things better left to the dark. She reached down and gently held his hand. He looked up at her as she smiled softly.

"I'm here for you, my child. If you ever need, I am here." Oh, how those sweet words hurt. He felt hotness in his eyes again. Had it really been so long? Had it really been that long since he'd been shown kindness? "Are you all right?" she asked. He looked at her, and for what felt like the first time in ages, he truly smiled.

"Yes . . . Mom." They both froze. He looked horrified. It had slipped out, as if of a will of its own. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" She gently squeezed his hand.

"It's all right. If you it would make you happy to call me "Mother", then I . . ." She stopped, looking like she was fighting emotions of her own. She smiled at him. "I would be honored." He smiled as a single tear ran down his face.

"And you can call me Frisk . . ."

XXX

So, that was how Toriel and Frisk became almost like a mother and son. She showed him the Ruins, and her favorite places. She taught him what kinds of mushrooms were poisonous, which were good to eat and which herbs could make medicines. She also taught him basics like math, reading and history. She was surprised how good he was. It was almost as if he knew it already. That aside, their days were filled with more fun and laughter and happiness than had been in a long time. It might have gone on like this forever, but for one fateful day and lesson . . .

Toriel had been teaching him about the war between humans and monsters. Now, Frisk was a quiet boy, and very rarely asked questions as it was, but she noticed a sharp look to his eye, and a greater quiet from him. She knew him well enough to know that he was concerned about something. Then again, given what she was teaching, she couldn't blame him. If there was one thing she knew about Frisk for certain, it was that he was a kind and caring boy. If only she knew what had been set into motion.

XXX

Frisk sat up, careful not to wake Toriel as he poured over the history books. Something was nagging in his mind. He knew it was there, but where? He slapped another leather bound book closed, set it back in the bookcase, and took another one. If not for his size, one would have taken him for a scholar who was searching for a theorem or important date. Eyes fanned the pages with practiced ease, searching, looking for the right combination of letters.

"It has to be here," he whispered softly. He knew he could find the answer. He closed the book, set it aside and opened another one. He flipped through the pages until he found the chapter he was looking for. His eyes scanned the page carefully, taking it all in. He closed his eyes, sighed, and nodded his head as he placed a book mark and set the book aside. The cover read: History of the Imprisoning War. With the first part settled, he now looked for the second. He hefted up a large, heavy book, titled Man, Myth and Magic. He set it down and opened it up. This time, he knew what he was looking for and roughly where. His memory was hazy, as he had not thought about it for so long, but sweet, kind Toriel had reminded him. She had done so in so many ways, and he could think of only one way to repay her. "Aha! Here it is!" he chuckled softly as he read the passage:

The Mirror of Elde. Legends say that this mirror was created by a great wizard, using many archaic spells, charms, potions and alchemy which was feared even in the ancient world. While the exact nature of the mirror and its magic is unknown, the great power of the mirror was, indeed, known, coveted and feared: To grant any wish of whomever looked into the mirror. For this very reason, it is said, to avert the misuse of this great and terrible power, the mirror was hidden away, where no human being could ever reach it. Frisk smiled thinly as he read the book. He knew he was right and he knew he had not been crazy when he had sensed it, a great power, laying dormant. He glanced at the book about the War and he frowned softly. He sat back in the chair, his feet not reaching the floor, idly kicking as he thought.

He wanted to stay. He would gladly do so, but she had awakened memories he had thought lost forever. He could not overlook that debt and there was only one way he could repay it. He stood, returned the books to their positions on the shelves and headed back to his room quietly. He carefully wrote a note, being careful, thoughtful and delicate. Once he was satisfied, he crept down the hall and very gently slid the note under her door. He then headed for the stairs at the back of the house.

The tunnel was dark, the stone the same purple color the rest of the Ruins were. His footfalls sounded loud in the tunnel. Small boy or not, each step seemed to echo for miles. Thankfully, the way was clear and only led in one direction. He came at last to a great door, carved with the same crest he had seen several times. He smiled.

"Oh? You're leaving?" He jumped at the voice. He turned, and stared at Toriel. She looked sad. She closed her eyes as she walked past him. "It's always the same. The humans that come here. They fall down. They leave. Then, they die." She stopped and looked at him. "You poor, naïve child. If you leave the Ruins. They . . . Asgore . . . they will kill you." She closed her eyes and bowed her head. "Don't you see? I'm trying to protect you . . ." Frisk swallowed, but he was not afraid.

"I do know that, Toriel. You have shown me more kindness . . . than anyone has in longer than I can remember," he said firmly, but also with a hint of sadness.

"Then why leave? Is it because you miss your human family?" He could hear the hurt in her voice, even though she did not open her eyes, or move her head. Frisk closed his eyes.

"My human family are dead, Toriel. And, for so long, my heart was as well. Only now, after what you did, after your kindness . . . your love, do I finally remember it. You cannot know the relief you feel when you go so many years in pain and to finally not hurt anymore." He looked up at her. There were tears running down her muzzle and it broke his heart. She finally opened her eyes and looked at him.

"You won't change your mind?"

"I can't." She sighed at this.

"Then, I have no choice . . ." Frisk was startled when a wind began to blow, and it was not a cold one. Toriel's eyes glowed bright red as she floated a few inches off the floor, her robes fluttering as fireballs appeared around her. "Prove your strength to me. Prove you have the will to survive!" she challenged as a fireball launched at him. He dodged out of the way, but in the narrow hall, it was not easy. He looked at her, startled, but he could see something, just a hint in her eyes. She didn't really want to do this.

Fire magic. There's a slight delay between forming a fireball, and it actually moving. I have to take advantage of that gap, he thought. He watched as a wave of fireballs formed and flew at him. He crouched and leaped over them. Toriel looked surprised at his agility. Frisk watched her as he readied for her next move, thinking on what to do. There was no way he was going to attack her, none at all. Not only was it suicide, but he couldn't. He couldn't hurt her. He wouldn't hurt her.

"Stop this, Toriel! I won't fight you!" She gave an impassive look as she raised her hand, and launched an undulating firewave. Frisk moved to dodge, and saw how it moved. He dove forward, stood up, and the waves of flame passes harmlessly by on either side. He saw Toriel's right eye twitch. He stared her down. Her lip curled up a tiny bit as she launched another attack, this one, pillars of blue flame that shot up from the floor seemingly randomly. He just barely dodged them, but he did feel a scorch on his pants leg.

"What are you doing? Attack or run away!" she yelled as she launched another wave of fireballs. He leaped over them with greater ease this time.

"No! I won't attack you!"

"Then flee!" she commanded as she launched out a spray of fireballs that then, to his surprise, began to bounce, like rubber balls. He leaped over several, and bounded off a wall over a small wall of them. Toriel looked genuinely impressed for a moment. She closed her eyes and shook her head ruefully.

"What are you proving this way?" she asked. He looked at her, breathing hard.

"I won't stop until I make you listen!" She glared at him, but he could see her fighting herself.

"Listen to what? Your screams as you die? Fight me or leave!" She sent out another volley of fireballs at him, but these, oddly enough, seemed easier to dodge. Was he imagining it? He stared into her eyes.

"Toriel, did you think about how I survived in the human world?! I'm no stranger to monsters, and the ones I've had to contend with look just like any other human!" This finally got a reaction out of her. She actually looked shocked. Had she actually considered it? He saw his opening, and took it. "I know all about survival, Toriel! Believe me! I know what it's like to go hungry for days, even weeks at a time! I know what it's like to get caught out in the rain, or the snow and have no home to dry off or get warm in! I know already what it's like to run from monsters! The human world is full of them! All looking like humans!" Toriel closed her eyes, tears running down her face.

"You still don't know anything about this world!" she yelled as she launched another firewave. This time, Frisk didn't move, only held his arms out, as if inviting the flames. Toriel saw this, her eyes wide. "No! Frisk!" she screamed as she moved her hands, the fire parting around him, smashing into the walls and shattering the stone. She ran forward. "Frisk! Are you hurt?!" He looked up at her and smiled.

"I knew my Mom wouldn't wouldn't hurt me." Her lip quivered as she dropped to her knees and hugged him.

"I'm so sorry, my child . . ." He hugged her back. She was silent for a moment. She pulled back and looked at him. "Frisk, that was reckless and stupid. You could have been killed." He smiled sadly at her.

"I've lost count of the times I wanted to die. Man has never imagined such a number before," he said solemnly. She blinked as she stared at the child. His words, they were hardly that of an innocent little child, but they were not evil, either. They were weary. She swallowed as she tried to regain some composure.

"Frisk . . . can we not forget this? Can't we go back upstairs, have some pie, and go back to how things were?" She smiled sadly. "I promise to take good care of you." He saw the pain in her eyes, the ache. It made it all the harder to deny her.

"I can't. I would be ignoring something awful. Didn't you read my note?" Toriel could not look into his eyes. He knew she didn't, but assumed what it said. He touched her face. "You reminded me, of things I had almost forgotten. You awoke something that had been sleeping in me. When I read about the War . . . about the Barrier and the spell . . . I couldn't just do nothing!" She looked up at him in surprise and alarm. He smiled gently as he held her hand. "I promise you I will break the spell and free the monsters. They never deserved this." Of all the things she had expected him to say . . .

"You . . . sweet, naïve child. There is only one way to break the Barrier . . ."

"Not necessarily," he said. She smiled and chuckled.

"What do you know of magic?"

"Enough to know that your Fire Vortex was the Algrian Type, with a Merleno-style swirl. Not a bad choice, I have to say." Toriel stared at him in shocked silence. Frisk grinned and winked at her.

"H-h-h-how? How do you-?" He smiled a little more.

"You shouldn't judge people on how they look on the outside. It's what's on the inside that matters." She chuckled, despite her tears.

"You really are a special child," she said softly. Frisk smiled a soft, but enigmatic smile.

"Aren't all children special?" Toriel looked at him, looked into those beautiful deep blue eyes, and saw a depth of wisdom in them she had never seen in any child before. She sniffled. Frisk smiled as he reached under his striped shirt, and pulled something out. "Here, I want you to have this," he said as he placed it in her hand. It was a large, bronze medallion. The surface swirled with deeply engraved spirals that her eyes could not follow. In the middle of each spiral was a gem. There were seven in all; one pale blue, one deep blue, one yellow, one orange, one purple, one green. In the center, a red gem gleamed from where the spiral lines all radiated outwards from the center. She turned it over, and engraved on the back, were letters the likes of which she had never seen before. She stared at the Amulet and knew that it was far more than a trinket. "Courage of the Heart is very rare. But it has Power, when it's there," Frisk quoted. She looked up at him. He smiled and closed her fingers over it. "This is very special to me. I want you to hang onto it for me. I promise I'll free the monsters, and come back. I promise, on my Heart, and my Soul." Toriel looked at the Amulet. She held it tightly to her chest.

"My child . . ." Frisk smiled sadly at her tone. He did the only thing he could think of, and hugged her. She stroked his hair lovingly. "Oh, Frisk. Please, I couldn't bear to lose you, too . . ." She was close to sobbing. He nuzzled her and kissed her cheek.

"You won't, I promise." She held him tighter. "I love you, Mom." She fought new tears as she kissed his cheek.

"I love you, Frisk. Please stay safe." Her words, her tears, her love, they filled him with Determination. He reluctantly stood up, wiping his own tears. Toriel stood up, wiped her eyes, and gently put the Amulet on. She brought out a small cloth pouch and gave it to Frisk. "Here. I thought you might be hungry," she said as she handed him the bundle, the sweet scent of butterscotch and cinnamon wafting to his nose. He looked up at her as he held her hand. She sniffled as the doors of the Ruins opened. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and nodded. He smiled at her, patted her hand, and headed for the door. He stopped, looked back at her, and gave her a thumbs up before heading through, the doors slamming shut behind him. Toriel watched the door long after it closed, a few tears dropping onto the Amulet. "Frisk . . . Please come back to me . . ."

XXX

Frisk walked through the dim halls of the Ruins, thinking on everything that had happened. Toriel had done what he thought nobody could do; she had opened his heart. After so long, being so afraid to open up, to trust, to love, to be loved. She had done far more than save his body. She saved his Soul.

"Clever. Verrrryyy clever," said a familiar voice. He looked up with a start at Flowey, who gave him a sour look. "You think you're really smart, don't you?" Frisk glared at the flower.

"What do you want, Stinkblossom?" he sniped. Flowey ground its teeth.

"Oh, now that's classy. In this world, it's kill, or be killed. So, you were able to play by your own rules. You spared the life of a single person." Flowey tittered. Frisk glowered at the flower. "I bet you must feel really great." Frisk raised an eyebrow at this. "You didn't kill anybody, this time. But what if you meet a relentless killer? What will you do then? You'll die! And die and die and die and die." Frisk yawned.

"Are you done with the monolog yet?" Flowey ground its sharp teeth.

"Maybe you'll kill to save your own neck? Maybe you'll kill out of frustration? Or will you give up on this world? And let me inherit the power to control it?" Frisk had finally had enough.

"All right, that's quite enough!" he yelled, surprising the flower. "I have much better things to do with my time than bandy words with a witless weed! Begone! Go thence!" This made Flowey even madder.

"And what if I don't move?" Flowey growled. Frisk's brows furrowed. He took a deep breath, reared back, and roared at the flower:

"Apage!" Flowey yelped as it was blown away with as much force as a gale. Frisk smiled and whistled as he walked on. "Looks like I've still got that old Black Magic . . ." he chuckled as he left the Ruins.