? November 16XX

I am in hiding. The mob...the mob broke into the house as we appealed for calm, whipped to a frenzy by the words of a strange man in military garb. They refused to listen, and...

Helvatica took the brunt, a pitchfork lodging itself between her delicate ribs. She knew she was wounded, knew she was...dying...and as she turned to face them with fire in her hands, she called for me to escape.

Like a coward, like a dog...I ran. I left her to her fate, to have her dust trodden underfoot by the people who used to love us. My head tells me she was already too far gone to save, but in my heart...I feel I will never find peace for my cowardice. All I have left of her now is the scarf I pulled from her as I attempted to drag her away from the crowd, a few grains of her dust clinging to it from when she began to unravel. I will preserve these few scraps of her, that maybe someday when this insanity blows over, I may scatter her in the flower fields she loved.

I think...I think I will cease my writings for today. It is hard to write through the tears. Maybe there's a barn somewhere I can hide in for the night.

?

I have never been this cold. Never been this hungry. Even Skeletons need shelter and food. I have spent who knows how long trekking across this cursed land, hiding in ditches from patrols, pressing through sodden, wintry forests as I scrounge in bushes for berries that simply fall through my bones. This is human food, a Skeleton cannot survive on this. Nor can I stoop to begging. Monsters are hunted like animals these days.

I saw a battlefield today, hiding in the nearby woods as I watched the two sides ready themselves for battle.

Battle, hah, who am I fooling? It was a massacre. The steel of the humans swords clove through our side as though butter. When the slaughter was over, the snow was thick with dust, as though a forest fire had burned all before it. The humans were untouched. I fear for the future of monsters...

? (I am informed it is December)

I was picked up by a patrol of monsters, straggling back to their camp after being mauled by human forces. One in ten came back alive. As I downed my first proper meal in weeks, I was brought up to speed on the situation.

It has been genocide. Every city in the land has had its own battle, its own "cleansing". The humans fear of monsters has become a frenzy. I am very lucky to have dodged the roving gangs of hunters that swarm after every battle to comb the area for stragglers. It's like a sickness in the humans, a disease. I have spent the day tending to wounded and dying monsters once they found I was a doctor. It is good to make myself useful once more. Through the tent flap as I soothed a dying monster into the next life, I heard talking, whispers that the King, Asgore, had tired of this debacle and sent a messenger bird to the humans, surrendering unconditionally if it would stop this madness. Truth be told, I am glad of the thought. Better a life of imprisonment then the loss of our history and culture. After Helvatica's loss I am broken. I just...can't fight anymore. I would gladly accept slavery. Just please let me rest...I can only pray they are willing to grant us mercy.

17th December (I think)

A ceasefire has been announced as Asgore journeys to the Capitol to discuss the terms. I do not think they will be good for us, but hopefully he can earn us some mercy.

21st December

The surrender was accepted. There was no cheering, we were too tired and cold to cheer, but the mood in the camp immediately relaxed.

Until the human general rode up.

His eyes...they were so cold...

We were ordered to pack our things and march to Mt Ebott. We were not told why, but fearful of the humans swords, we obeyed. I traded the treatment of a claw wound on a human soldiers arm for a rest in the carriage overnight. I am bone weary...pardon my pun. The human soldiers are not happy, and I feel I will not be given this leeway again. Best to make the most of it...

7th January.

This time last year, I warmed my bones in front of a fire with Helvatica and toasted the new year with warm Spider Cider. How things change. We spent our new years struggling through what could only be called a death march. The humans drove us without mercy to Mt Ebott, barely letting us rest or eat. Many Fell Down out of exhaustion or hunger or heartbreak. I just let my mind drift away, the only thought in my head to put one foot in front of the other. Long, miserable, cold days drifted past like this. It was only when we reached the foot of the mountain I allowed myself to return to reality.

The humans let us rest, stating they were waiting for Asgore to arrive with the rest of the monsters. I now sit huddled against a sleeping Vulkin with a small group of monsters. It is all I can do to write. I will...

I will rest a while...

8th January 16XX

The king arrived today. Even streaked in mud and slush and the dust of the monsters who fell beside him, eyes as tired as we all felt, he was a sight so imposing that I fell to my knees as he passed. He stopped, then, and raised me up with a smile. I am tired still, and his words reached me as though through cotton, but I remember they filled me up with warmth. In his regal presence, I felt stronger, bolder. I could see it rippling through the assembled monsters. Behind him, his wife supported the weight of Gerson, our greatest hero, badly wounded, yet still alive. Throughout that day our rulers mingled with us, filling us with renewed strength at their calm presence, even as the humans watched from a distance with narrowed eyes.

That evening, a meeting was called, and Asgore told us the price we would pay for daring to exist, his voice booming out over us, laden with grief.

We were to be banished.

7 of the strongest magicians the humans had to offer were to seal us inside the mountain. Human magic is not strong. But 7 together? I will never forget the silence that fell after that proclamation.

We were to be imprisoned. Forever.

That night, that final night I stayed awake, braving the chill that ate to my marrow to look at the stars one final time. At the entrance to the cave, a patch of snowdrops had been sheltered from the worst of the weather, lily white flowers tattered but still blooming. Holding on. Just like us. I scattered what few ashes I had of her there. I do not wish her to be entombed under the mountain. She will rest eternally under the open sky.

I remember weeping.

I do not remember falling asleep.

Now the sun is cresting the horizon. The king himself woke me as the magicians arrive, and now I update my diary as they prepare their spells. It...passes the time...

9th January 16XX

The most remarkable event took place today. So much to write down I barely know where to begin...

I will start...with the child.

We were herded into the cave mouth, goaded on with cruel jabs from the soldiers spears. The magicians simply watched, some triumphant, some resolutely refusing to look at us, and one, a woman whose brown hair hid most of her face, watching us with deep sadness. I lagged behind the others. I wanted to see this happen, wanted to see the sun for as long as I could, the king and his wife watching next to me, a humble doctor and proud royalty, sharing the same grief.

And as they raised their staffs and began to chant, a child came into view, one who had evidently been behind the rest of the march, running as fast as they could towards the barrier. I saw the flash of white bone in the early morning sun. It was a skeleton child. They were carrying a bundle.

The barrier was thickening, the sunlight already warping and dimming.

And the child jumped.

If they had jumped a second later...

I remember the moment as clear as day, time seeming to slow in my memory. The way they simply launched themselves into space, the way they summoned a sphere of bright blue magic to cradle the bundle they carried.

The way they screamed as the growing barrier hit them like a wave. It was just new enough to allow this, still thickening like the skin on custard. Had they delayed, the child would have been shattered to dust.

And even so, they lay motionless on the floor. My reaction was instinctive, rushing forward to scoop up the still little form.

The humans stepped back, spells wavering in shock. The seeming leader turned and spoke to them, voice muffled by the shield. And the spell resumed.

There was a final ripple, a noise that rose beyond the limits of hearing before petering into silence.

And the barrier set.

It was done.

We were trapped.

I heard the queen sob, and a moan of despair arise from the assembled monsters. But my attention was elsewhere. The bundle in the child's arm had shifted. With a shaking hand I twitched the bright red cloth aside.

And a perfect baby skeleton stared up at me, eye sockets wide and curious. Whole. Healthy. Untouched. The child's shield had worked.

The child...

He lay still, as though dead, yet refusing to blow away. I bent to examine him, and thought I must have been imagining things at what I found.

1 HP.

The boys health had been set to one on his trip through the barrier. One. A single digit. He clung on to the barest wisp of life, as his healthy sibling made contented rattling noises. The smallest miracle, on a day of such despair. A resolve gripped me, a fierce determination. This boy would live.

I lifted them both in my arms, and followed my king deep into the underground.