On the night of the riot, when Frisk was still asleep from their battle against Persona, Judge Thyme called for The Dreemurr Royal family.
Though they were still recovering from the vaporized Silvermane, King Asgore and his beloved queen listened well.
Ever so grim with his black tailcoat and cane, The King of Magi started to speak.
“The Grandmaster has informed me that against all odds and expectations, the Lemurian delegates have arrived at The Spire. Technically ‘unofficial’, but standing among them is a true monster prince.”
House Berendin’s Mansion served as more than a large building. According to Mezil’s explanation, it was also the arrivals hub for all entries from Lemuria. They go through a series of portals that end in one of the Mansion’s storerooms, and thus require the guide of a Seer.
This particular group had exploited a loophole by ‘shipping themselves out amongst the emergency supplies’, as the Lemurian government could not deny The Association’s request by law. The persons involved hid in cardboard boxes filled with peanut packaging, and let themselves be transported via a trolley.
Upon arrival, The Grandmaster assigned Garamond as their guide, being one of the few who knew the path to Mount Ebott safely. They would stay at the manor until Ebott Town was ready to receive them.
Their presence spelled more headaches for The King of Magi, according to Asgore’s observation.
“I apologize if this sounds all too cynical, but I don’t think their arrival is something to celebrate. That’s exactly why you must be careful. For better or for worse, it is no accident that the Lemurians have survived this long.”
At the very end, he issued a warning.
“Never jump into an agreement, verbal or otherwise. No matter how good it may seem.”
Since then, throughout the sunless hours of the morning, The King and Queen had been at the Town Hall for official business.
First, it was to register a host of new entities. Both the reborn Six and Gaster’s assistants needed new identification.
Secondly, once the registry forms were filled and filed, they spent their time preparing for the Lemurians’ arrival. Hospitality was of the essence.
If the Magi had their way, the accomplices of Doctor Gaster’s shocking broadcast would be well behind bars. But, The Dreemurrs found themselves shorthanded, and so they proposed to let them work for their penance instead.
With the workforce problem solved, The King of Mages then summoned Caroline’s husband, Quentin.
Asgore remembered the purple rabbit’s case very well. Gaster had accused him of treason for hiding The Green Child. The penalty was immediate confiscation of property and exile to the kingdom’s edge.
On the Surface, he had been officially exonerated as a celebration of their collective freedom. Since then, husband and wife had dreams of expanding their business, as evident by their trial pizzas that were given to Asgore.
Quentin explained that he had become the new unofficial owner of Grillby’s Bar overnight. With the property in the good hands of an experienced shopkeeper, the fire elemental walked the path of battle without a hint of fear or regret.
Both Asgore and Toriel were saddened by the reminder that the bar no longer exists. It closed shop far too soon, especially since it lasted only a few months on The Surface. Frisk and Sans sure loved that place.
A question soon arose about what to do with the old stock. The burgers, fries, hotdogs and assorted snacks could be kept, but the drinks had to go. Quentin’s idea of a family-friendly diner was absolutely incompatible with the bottles of fancily named alcohol.
So, on Mezil’s recommendation, the following plan was hatched: Quentin would use some of Grillby’s leftover ingredients to make an assortment of sandwiches. Meanwhile, Jacob the Barfellow would use his expertise to amuse the incoming Lemurians.
The world of human brews was long, wide, and deep, the Magus explained. It would be a novel experience for the foreign monsters. Plus drinks always provided a good icebreaker, even if not all members of the delegation are tolerant to alcohol. Jacob thus set up a bar counter at the Town Hall. An impromptu service that would assuredly be paid by the royal coffers.
With that settled, the King and Queen of Monsters moved on to other affairs.
The Lemurians had put in a very specific request for a box of chalk from Toriel’s school. There was no further explanation of why they wanted it. Nonetheless, it was gladly provided on a silver platter.
Meanwhile, Asgore would put his famous love of flowers to good use. Welcoming wreaths were weaved from the flowers of his personal garden. They were then placed on stands and positioned next to the main entrance to the meeting room. Early blooming tulips were in full swing by now, and their inclusion added a wonderful splash of colour to an otherwise limited choice.
Mettaton and Alphys dropped by in the middle of the preparations to place two sensor-activated sound boxes, programmed to play a trumpet’s fanfare. ‘Darling dear, what’s an ambassadorial meeting of royalty without some brass tooting?’, said the monster celebrity. Then, off they went to the Librarbry. The King was grateful for the unexpected aid.
By the time the food, drink, flowers and chalk were ready, it was a little past ten in the morning.
King Asgore approached Garamond, saying: “We are ready, sir. You may now escort the delegates into town.”
Bowing, the Seer replied, “Yes, Your Majesty. I will make haste.”
And so, all they could do now was to wait for the Lemurians’ arrival. Both King Asgore and Queen Toriel fought to keep their inner anxieties in check.
Asgore whispered, “When was the last time we had a formal welcoming? For other monsters, that is.”
Toriel replied, “At least a thousand years ago, if not more. I believe it was for our wedding.” She reminisced a little with a slight smile. “I was just a young princess back then. We barely knew each other beyond our exchange of letters. Nonetheless, I was determined to be the best spouse I could be.”
“And indeed you were,” said the King. “Ah, I remember how much of a nervous young prince I was, worrying about how you would dislike me upon meeting face-to-face. Yet, we fell in love at first sight. Did we not?”
“We did. I never thought our bonds would break.”
“But here we are, a thousand years later… With a broken marriage and a shattered crown. Truth be told, I am not sure how much longer we can remain as royalty.”
A dark cloud lingered over their heads. The Dreemurrs were reminded of their failures in every aspect: as spouses, as parents, and as rulers.
The blaring of pre-recorded trumpets -- signalling the arrival of the delegates -- snapped them out of their funk. Asgore and Toriel immediately straightened their backs and put on their most pleasant faces.
Four monsters clad in all-concealing cloaks then walked through the front door.
One of them stood tall and strong. They sported a muscular, beefy physique, with thick broad shoulders. Many would presume a figure this imposing to be a man. But Asgore knew better. His experience in training Undyne allowed him to recognize certain tell-tale signs exclusive to bipedal females: subtle shifts in balance associated with a lower center of gravity.
Standing next to her was the complete opposite: shy, diminutive, and delicate. Horns pushed the hood upwards, making the fabric more taut than it should. She too had a lower center of gravity. It thus was clear that this person was another lady.
If they were girls, those two couldn’t be the ‘true monster prince’ that Mezil had mentioned. Otherwise, he would have specified a ‘true monster princess’ instead.
Asgore was left with two more candidates. The third of the lot appeared to don a pair of triangular, tapered pauldrons, making that person look more imposing than they actually were. Could that be the mystery prince? Asgore’s own armour had similar practical and cosmetic considerations.
Yet… the King didn’t sense the ‘special spark’ from that fanciful figure. All Boss Monsters bear a ‘seed’ that’s cultivated from generation to generation, growing stronger as time goes by: a mark of royalty that they cannot escape or hide from.
He was left with the fourth and final figure. That person stayed almost in complete shadow, deceptively unassuming. Nonetheless, the King was certain that this must be the monster prince.
And so, he extended his hand towards the plainest of them all. “Welcome to Ebott Town, municipality of the Dreemurr Nation, young prince.”
The figure giggled in amusement. “Well then, I see that you’re as wise as they say.”
A furry white hand shook his hand in return. It looked exactly like his own. Both Asgore and Toriel were unable to hide their astonishment.
The Lemurian prince pulled back his hood to reveal their goat-like appearance, complete with a tiny pair of budding pink horns. There was no mistaking it: he was none other than Asgore’s own species of monster.
Thus, the prince said: “I’m Ralsei, son of Essei and Rallon. I believe I’m descended from Queen Toriel’s direct family, if our records are accurate.”
Just the thought that someone from her side had survived brought tears of happiness for the Queen. “Goodness!” she said, “I thought they were all but wiped out during The Sealing War. No matter how hard I searched among the refugees, I found no one from my former home.”
“I apologize for my ancestors, my distant aunt,” said Ralsei, “When they heard about The Legendary Hero’s rise, our kingdom went on a mass exodus to the Atlantean shores. Once there, they had no means of delivering the news of their safe arrival without exposing their location.”
Asgore raised his brows. “Atlantean? But, I thought you’re Lemurian royalty?”
“At the time, Lemuria did not exist yet. It was my great-grandfather who sailed out from Atlantis during the Age of Discovery, to establish a new island nation for the ever growing population of mainland refugees. In gardening terms, we’re the branch of a branch who took root in new lands.”
“Aah, I see, I see. That certainly makes sense.”
The news of her family’s survival had lifted Toriel’s spirits. Her more hospitable self started to shine through. “Dear Ralsei, are these your friends?”
“Yes,” the prince replied, “They’ve been some of my closest friends for over two decades. Hence why they’re here with me today.”
“How delightful! Please, there is no need to be shy around us. You are free to show your true forms on our soil.”
The tall one asked her prince, “Does that mean we can take our cloaks off now?”
Ralsei smiled, “By all means, go ahead.”
“Booyah! That’s what I like to hear!”
Brusque, the tall one threw off her cloak like an annoying hindrance. She was a purple saurian with dark brown hair, radiating rude strength from her posing alone.
“The name’s Susie, bodyguard and courier rolled in one.” Grinning, she showed her incredible set of sharp teeth. “Where’s the chalk? I heard the mainland kind is super different. I can’t wait to try it!”
The one with pauldrons sighed at her antics. Taking off the cloak, ever so carefully, revealed a blue-feathered birdman with a yellow beak. He wore a white magitek armour and a green scouter over his left eye.
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“Manners, please!” he said, while he went to pick up Susie’s cloak from the floor. He then folded both their cloaks into a neat bundle. “We’re among ancient royalty here. But, who am I to complain about your special charm…”
Bowing gracefully towards the Dreemurrs, he proclaimed: “Greetings, Your Majesties. I am Sir Berdly, the best number two in the whole of Lemuria! Be it lab work, engineering, magitek, nursing, or bodyguard duties, you won’t find a better assistant than yours truly.”
Unlike Susie, Berdly carried himself with practiced refinement, although his enthusiasm made him appear snooty.
The last lady continued to hide under the protection of her fabric. Her shyness didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of her friends.
The purple saurian softened her tone and stance, trying to encourage her friend. “It’s okay. You’re not alone.”
“Indeed,” the blue bird added. “I swear upon my halberd that nothing will hurt you!”
Her hands gripped the edge of the hood, but they refused the move. She was torn between two opposing desires: bravery and fear.
The prince walked up to her. “Are you worried about repercussions back in Lemuria? Please, don’t be. I grant you my special royal permission to reveal yourself.”
“Yeah, you have Ralsei’s support!” Susie continued, “If you could ship yourself out to get past some stodgy roadblock, showing your face is no big deal.”
“I concur!” Sir Berdly joined in, “Besides, haven’t you stepped foot on human lands multiple times by now? Few non-Seers could claim to have such bold, illustrious qualifications!”
At last, with everyone’s support, the small lady took off her hood, ever so slowly.
Upon that moment, Asgore stared in dumbfounded shock. The world seemed to pause, his mind unable to comprehend what he saw.
Those petite deer antlers.
That golden blond hair.
The tawny fur on her face.
Asgore blurted out: “Noelle?”
She gasped. “H-how did you know my name?”
“Noelle, why are you here with the Lemurians? Were you forced into a prank again? This is no joking matter, my dear.”
“B-but… I’ve always been… a Lemurian?”
Susie and Berdly started to raise their guard, shuffling into the space between Asgore and Noelle.
“Asgore,” said Toriel. “Our guests are getting uncomfortable. Please, clear your head.”
And that was what the king did. He stepped back, shut his eyes, and gave his noggin a good shake. Then, he looked at the deer lady with fresh eyes.
This time, he noticed the differences. Although having a golden top, the Lemurian Noelle had much straighter hair. Plus, her bangs were combed over her forehead. It lacked the fluff of his friend’s daughter, especially on the ends.
Above all, her face was different. It was thinner, more human-like, lacking in buck teeth. This Noelle had the appearance of a refined working professional as opposed to a dorky awkward teenager.
“…Ah,” said Asgore. “Goodness me, I deeply apologize. You see, my dear departed friend had a daughter of the same name and species. They behaved so similarly as well. The uncanny likeness confused my perception.”
The bodyguards breathed a collective sigh of relief. “Gosh,” Susie said, “For a moment I thought you’re gonna tell me your friend’s name was Rudolph too.”
“Yes, his name was indeed Rudolph. Rudolph Holliday, to be exact.”
Susie froze for a good three seconds. “…Yeah, me and my big mouth.”
Sir Berdly cleared his throat. “‘Big’ is indeed an accurate descriptor. But! We’re not here for doppelganger mysteries. Our glorious prince seeks diplomatic rapport, in addition to answering Lady Lucidia’s plea! Let us help those poor patients posthaste.”
The King said, “Do you mean Sans and Papyrus? Their surgery has already concluded, and they are well on their way to recovery.”
“Exactly why we’re needed to tend to their bedside. I must imagine that they’re languishing without a competent nurse. His Highness Ralsei is one of our island’s best!”
“No, no,” said King Asgore. “They’ve already been discharged. In fact, they’re fit enough to partake in combat whenever necessary.”
The Lemurians started glancing at each other. Ralsei and Noelle were especially perturbed by the answer.
Awkwardly grinning, Noelle said, “Isn’t that too soon??? I will have to talk with Lady Lucidia about this.”
“Oh. Okay, I’ll leave that to you!” Birdly exclaimed, “But we still have some armour to make, right?”
Nodding, the deer lady confirmed: “Correct. We were notified that there are two Champions who require magitek armour. That’s my lab’s specialty.”
Sir Berdly curled his fingers and pouted his beaks into a fancy kiss. “Indubitably, our exquisite craft is unlike any other! The human lands can only dream of making better!”
So far, everything sounds quite promising. The King showed his hand toward Jacob’s impromptu bar and its selection of sandwiches. “Before we begin our meeting, may I formally invite the whole delegation to some refreshments? You have travelled a long way from your home, after all.”
Pleading eyes turned towards Ralsei. The idea of food and drink wins every heart, no matter where they came from.
“Hahaha!” Ralsei laughed, “I suppose it’s been a while since breakfast. Besides, I wish to try out more of the mainland’s bounty. Let’s have some snacks.”
While the Lemurians helped themselves, Asgore maintained a quiet observation on their actions. Curiously, their first destination was the box of chalk on the silver platter.
Susie lifted up the box lid, pulled out a stick, and… snapped on it like a piece of candy.
“Wow!” She lit up in delight. “Just like I thought, land chalk is SWEET! Not a hint of salt on this thing! Man, this is such a refreshing change from the ones back home.”
“May I try?” asked the reindeer lady.
“Um,” Ralsei said, “You don’t have the specific perk required to taste or digest chalk. It would just be horribly weird for you.”
“Maybe a lick?”
Before anyone could stop her, Noelle licked a new piece of chalk. It went about as well as anyone expected.
“Arwwh it’s downwight nastehhh!” Her face contorted in painful disgust with her tongue sticking out.
The Lemurian team hurried between the sandwich table and the bartender’s improvised counter. With a cucumber sandwich in one hand and a lime-infused glass of cold water in another, Noelle’s tongue was rescued from the horrors of school chalk.
It took a while for the cleansing to complete. In the meantime, the rest had picked out their sandwiches of choice and joined the snacking.
Jacob asked: “Are you alright, Miss Noelle?”
Keeping her head down, she timidly replied, “Y-y-yes. Thank you.”
Sir Berdly tapped a button on his scouter. An interface appeared on the glass, although it was impossible for Asgore to read the details.
The bird said, “I’ve confirmed that this person is indeed a true human and not a disguised monster. How curious: have they already started moving into Ebott Town?”
With a courteous smile, Jacob explained, “No, I’m just here to help my brother-in-law.”
“Aha! A relative of a Magus! Now it’s all clear to me. So, I heard that a martini is the litmus test of the mainland. If that’s the case, could you whip a glass for the four of us? Shaken, not stirred.”
“Eh,” said Susie, “Martinis are overrated. I prefer the screwdriver.”
“…Three martinis and a screwdriver, then!”
“Dammit, Berdly! We didn’t come all the way here just to have boring ol’ drinks that any monster can make! We gotta go ham or go home!”
Leaning against the counter, Susie dropped a challenge: “C’mon Mister Bartender, why not show us something INTERESTING?”
The human bartender pondered for a moment. “May I interest you in a herbal elixir then? Think of it as a cocktail that’s meant to be eaten instead of drunk.”
The suggestion garnered great interest from everyone, the Dreemurrs included.
“That… does sound intriguing.”
“Sure.”
“A splendid suggestion!”
“You’ve piqued my interest, human. The martini can wait.”
Asgore glanced longwise at his wife. He knew how much she loved a good brew, but she’s restricting herself due to her history of drunken misadventures.
Leaning close to her ears, he whispered: “We can share, if you want.”
“I will refrain.” Toriel replied. “You go ahead and give it a try. Participation is part of hospitality.”
“Alright.”
So the King joined the Lemurian delegates at the counter, ready for a taste.
Jacob set out five small saucers and placed a sugar cube on the middle of each. He then presented a bottle of verdant herbal bitters, pouring drops onto the cube itself. Colour tinted the once white cube with a light peridot green.
The bartender then explained, “In the olden days, medicines were made by steeping herbs in alcohol. However, the distilled product was often too bitter to drink on its own, even with added sweeteners. Some monks thereby had the idea to drip the liqueur onto tiny spoonfuls of sugar. This powerful combination has saved many weary travelers from the brink of death.”
The monsters listened to the story with wide-eyed wonder. They may have consumed many mixtures over their lives, but this was the first time they had heard of its possible history.
“Now, take a bite and let the sugar slowly dissolve in your mouth. That is the preferred way to savour this liqueur.”
The time came for the taste test. Asgore bit off a piece and let the sugar do its magic. The others did the same, except for Susie who decided to throw the whole cube into her mouth in one go. Always the rebel.
“…Is this adult candy?” the saurian asked, “Because I’m gonna replace all the lame kiddy sweets with this stuff!”
The King of Monsters understood why Susie loved the result. The sweet sugar indeed dulled the harshness of the bitters, allowing the herbal symphony to play a grand orchestra. Medicinal compounds danced to a melody while holding hands with the freshness of meadows, woodlands, and mountains.
It was miles apart from the orange bitters that Mezil had served, where that one particular type of fruit was concentrated into a singular aroma. This elixir instead celebrated a combination of over a hundred.
He offered the cube to his Queen. “Dear, come take a bite. Think of it as flavoured candy.”
When Toriel took a nibble, her face lit up in delight. “Goodness, this takes me back to my childhood. Whenever I felt a little down in the chilly winter months, my mother would make an infusion of herbs, dried flowers, and honey. It would always restore my spirits right away.”
Ralsei commented, “The tale is as interesting as the method of serving. Here I thought that all drinks come in glasses.”
However, Noelle offered her cube to her friend. “Susie, you can have this.”
“Eh? You don’t like it?”
“I-I’m sorry… but the aroma doesn’t agree with me. It reminds me too much of a hospital ward.”
“Oh. Right. Well, more for me!” And so Susie tossed Noelle’s cube right into her mouth.
Turning to Jacob, Noelle bowed apologetically. “I apologize if this offends you.”
“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” Jacob replied. “There’s no such thing as a universally liked mix. Everyone responds to taste differently. Do you have any preference in mind?”
“Could you… Make something Christmasy? I don’t think you have the means to make eggnog. But, alternatives are good too.”
“Would you want to try the same method of serving, but with amaretto and orange? This version is a Christmas treat in the southern parts of the Occident.”
“Yes please, I would like to try it.”
Jacob took out a fresh cube of sugar and infused it with Noelle’s preferred alternative. After taking a bite, a warm smile grew on the lady’s face.
“This. Is. Perfect! Thank you, Mister Bartender!”
Asgore was astounded by the Lemurian Noelle’s assertiveness. The Noelle he knew would have hunkered down in silence, forcing herself to eat or drink whatever she didn’t like. Was it because of the age difference, he wondered?
Then, right as he finished those thoughts, he noticed that time had become frozen.
Sans stood behind him. Since when? He wasn’t sure. The Seer had his hood up, keeping his eyes out of the light. It seemed that the aversion stuck despite the success of his treatment.
“Any report, Tactician?”
“In the previous timeline, a riot broke out right in front of the Town Hall: a clash between pro-magic and anti-magic protesters. Since then, your kiddo has been working their butt off to prevent that incident from happening again.”
Asgore’s heart sank a little when he heard about the news. “I did think that things were going a little too smoothly. Is there anything I need to do?”
“Ideally, nothing. Just concentrate on keeping the Lemurians busy. Speaking of which…”
The Seer Tactician showed an open palm. “You’re not greeting four guests. Instead, you’re greeting five. Someone, or something, is hiding among the others.”
“Five?” pondered Asgore, “Could there be a tiny stowaway hidden somewhere? Perhaps a ghost-type like Mettaton, hiding in plain sight?”
“Who knows? I don’t want to use my Seer’s Eye too much. Never know if the other side has means to detect me. Like that bird’s scouter. Or whatever reindeer girl’s trying to hide.”
“Excuse me?”
“She’s as opaque as cloudy ice. Heh, would rather not pry more than I need to.”
Opaque? Such an odd description. Asgore thought that she was being quite transparent with her actions. But, he didn’t want to doubt Sans’ senses, thus the King kept the warnings in mind. “Thank you for the information.”
“No probs,” Sans adjusted his hood. “Either way, gotta go. Protect Tori no matter what, Your Kingliness.”
“That goes without saying. Godspeed, Sans Serif.”
Sans vanished and time resumed its normal pace. Just about then, Asgore heard the commotion coming from outside.
Bowing to his guests, he said, “Excuse me, Prince Ralsei. I need to attend to some affairs outside of the Town Hall. It will only be a moment. Please, enjoy yourselves in the meantime.”
“Oh, sure thing.” The young goat prince bit off another piece of the flavoured sugar. “The citizens come first, after all.”
Asgore exchanged a silent nod to Toriel, temporarily passing the hospitality duties to her.
Outside the Town Hall, human law-enforcement marched down the road. Commissioner Eldin led his troops from within his trusty, well-worn police car. He drove it at a slow yet steady pace so those on foot could follow.
Upon the appearance of their King, the gathering of citizens started asking concerned questions.
“Who were those people in purple cloaks?”
“Are they humans? Or are they monsters?”
“Will you still be our King? Please be our King!”
“Why are there armed humans everywhere? I’m scared!”
None of which Asgore was prepared to answer. “Everyone, please calm down. We are still dealing with a delicate situation.”
There was a unified ‘awww’ of disappointment across the board.
Standing among the gathering was the Noelle that Asgore knew in person. He was there when he blessed her as a baby, and he visited her every Christmas at that cabin in the Snowdin forest, watching her grow up year by year. Her sister Dess accompanied her today, as she always did.
A crack of magic then rippled through the sky, catching The King’s attention. When he looked upwards, he saw a suspiciously singular raincloud. It defied the weather forecast, which predicted sun and scattered clouds.
Soon, rain started to fall.
The Ebottian Noelle tried to use their phone. After a brief confusion, she asked Dess to check hers. And just like that, it set off a domino effect of everyone examining their own devices.
When King Asgore took out his own phone, he saw the problem. On the top right corner of his screen, there was a large ‘X’ over the reception bar.
A communication blackout? Right in his kingdom? Didn’t something similar happen during Frisk’s Trial of the Crimson Hall? Not long after that… the whole Magus headquarters went ablaze.
He cleared his throat and asked his citizens: “Is anyone here a communications technician? Raise your hands, if you are.”
A few hands and limbs rose from the crowd.
“It appears that the mobile lines have broken down. Could you go to the station to fix it?”
“Yes, King Asgore!”
“Very well, I shall return to my diplomatic duties.” And return, he must. Otherwise, the Lemurians might question his absence.
Back inside the Town Hall, Ralsei and his posse had finished their little snacktime. From what he could observe, Ralsei and Toriel had held a fond family-related conversation while they waited.
The young prince asked, “Is everything alright, King Asgore?”
A difficult conundrum awaited. He didn’t want to worry his guests, yet he didn’t want to lie either. Covering up too much would be a sign of mistrust.
So, he decided on a delicate middle ground. He explained with a courteous smile: “A major service facility malfunctioned, so I sent out some help to repair it. Fortunately, the issue doesn’t affect our diplomatic meeting.”
“That’s good to hear. For a moment, I was worried that discussions would be further delayed. The sooner we get started, the sooner I can help you resolve this conflict with the humans.”
The King thus ushered the Queen and his guests to another part of the Town Hall. As much as he’s worried about the world outside, his duties lay elsewhere at the moment.