Keeper of The Underground, Dreamer of The Sky

PROLOGUE

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"Whoever said that loss gets easier with time was a liar. Here's what really happens: The spaces between the times you miss them grow longer. Then, when you do remember to miss them again, it's still with a stabbing pain to the heart. And you have guilt. Guilt because it's been too long since you missed them last."
― Kristin O'Donnell Tubb, The 13th Sign

"You're free now."

That's what she had announced to all monsters, declaring the news unlikely to be heard. Yet, she didn't mention her own self, she didn't muster the word we in her memorable sentence when it had been so right, so accurate. Not that the rest of the creatures notice the grim soiling her expressions when they were too busy cheering. Not the least bit that she was hoping - although the tiniest spark of hope - anyone would.

She had lied after all.

Not to everyone, at the very least. But to her dear friends; she hoped they would be too preoccupied to remember a mere mortal like her.

Mortals, yes. That had bound her here, but the question was - why?

Frisk could never be free. Not anymore, at least. But her previous, accumulated years of gazing the empty skies above were sufficient enough to remember how the surface had looked before. Bright, azure and the land below bathed in the glorious shine of the sun. She'd missed them. But what could she do? This very situation was beyond her capabilities. That was a secret, of course, to wait until every bit of monsters evacuating through the barrier whilst she would remain in the dark forever.

It's not like she refused to go out to her own world, the place she rightfully belonged. It's not about the attachment toward the underground that made her feet rooted, the adoration she held to such a small and simply yet joyous land, even though up there she knew it was better and brighter and simply much beautiful. Above, it was the land humans had woven and carved and decorated with all their might, painting vivid and striking shades that overshadowed their monochromatic lives rather than dwelling with the tedious humdrum - as she'd observed here despite the warmth and comfort. But the fact that she couldn't was the sole reason she simply wouldn't cross the barrier. The chance of escaping.

Because Frisk. . . Poor Frisk, her true vessel was long forsaken on the bed of golden flowers. The vessel that held her soul, lying limp and weak and unconscious - because what remained was actually just the culmination of her very being.

Researchers did stated that humans' souls are capable of maintaining their souls without the need of a solid body, meaning that even after they depart from their own solid physique. Frisk had seen the rest of the humans' souls sacrificed to open the barrier - wandering, colourful souls - once she battled with Omega Flowey. They were still there, existing as a form of an inexplicable definition, whispering her regarding of hopes during her battle. They weren't supposed to do that. Logically, the dead remained dead. Monsters turned to dust, but through determination, humans do not. They remained, even with a pitiful form. Their original forms - the appearances they once had - of course, had dissipated, consumed by time.

Because time was cruel that way. Because time was what reminding humans regarding of reality. Because time marked limits - every beings had their own limits despite their nature given.

Silently, Frisk stood firm on her spot, enjoying the joie de vivre hanging around the air and sketching her friends' faces nevertheless. They're cheering and laughing, their wish had finally came true at last. Ironically, it was only something she could feel for a brief time before grief would befallen upon her once more.

The brunet whispered, inaudibly, each syllables spoken soft and slow by means to be directed upon herself only. Yet, the words meant a prayer for the rest. A kind being, trampled by her own good deeds. "May the skies brought joy to your lives." If anyone would have listened, it was the first time she had ever sounded so forlorn. Her voice watery and weak. Slowly into the shadows, Frisk retreated farther away from the freedom that she, herself, had casted.

In the throngs of festive creatures, a certain skeleton looked around. Curse his short height being a disadvantage in such critical moments. He'd been very delighted before, but the thought of his dear friend pulled him back to reality. The image of an olive-skinned youth disappearing from his visions. He searched for the human; it should be easy because she was the only human here anyway. Confusion began to consume his delight before, and panic crawled in his guts. His instincts - he trusted them more than anything - told him the circumstances weren't any better now that freedom was given away. There was something else. . . "Frisk?" He called out in sheer fright, in a shaky tone that sounded rare to his hearing.

But nobody came.

Nobody ushering toward his direction, asking why she was called. Nobody he was expecting at all.

Nobody heard him.

Not the person he muttered her name, not the person he'd hoped would hear. She disappeared within a blink of an eye. Wasn't she nearby before?

His brother had nudged him to follow, after all, three quarters of the monsters had finally went out. Left was only the bunnies from Snowdin, Burgerpants and people from the resort and the six of the main who was closer to Frisk than anyone else. But Frisk. . . Frisk was missing? Where was she?

She was the one who was supposed to celebrate this particular event. She was the one who saved them after all. She was the angel that brought them their freedom. Yet, she left just like that - or had she went out beforehand?

Sans had no idea that the angel was bound to be here forever.

Frisk could only bid her goodbyes from afar. Dark chestnut eyes clouded with tears, her hands wanting to reach out to her friends one last time. One more time. She looked down, a tear dropped to the ground below. Beneath her feet, a golden flower that touched her teardrop started to wilt.

"Toriel, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Asgore. . . I'm sorry."

One by one, the golden flowers around her dropped and wilted.

"I'll always remember you."

From her feet, her existence started to fade away. Olive-skinned turning translucent and then nothing, vanished from sight. Yet, Frisk was still standing although her legs were disappearing. She could only watched. What can she do? She was rendered helpless to a situation she never faced before.

At the very least, the process wasn't painful. Rather, it felt like a calming sensation crawling up to her chest. She watched silently as her arms began to disappear too. Like the wind was consuming her existence, a pair of chestnut eyes helplessly watched nothingness swallowing her fingers whole. Frisk smiled, reminiscing over the sweet memories she spent with the monsters. Scenes playing in her mind; the moment she took more candy than she should have, the butterscotch-cinnamon pie, the joy of solving puzzles, the chance of being in a reality show, the smiles of her friends.

"Always."

And then, she was never to be seen again.

TO BE CONTINUED

Mozu : Welcome to Keeper of The Underground, Dreamer of The Sky. This is my second Undertale work that I'm excited to write!

Rest assured, there isn't any plot twist that will bring you to a heart attack or anything. Rather, I think, you might need tissues. I am, after all, an angst writer.

Listened to Alan Walker's Faded while writing this. So yeah, that's why Frisk. . . Faded! Huee.

X for love, O for hate.

-Mozu The Mochi (2016)