It’s dark.
Purplish rocks lined all around. Any wind blowing through turned cool, damp and humid.
Her home of the sky was nowhere in sight.
Lucidia understood that the linking process had succeeded. She found herself looking at a split path. Curious sounds echoed down the one on the left.
First order of business: she examined her own hands and feet, confirming her presence of self.
She’s a floating wisp. As if skeletons can’t fit the ‘undead’ image enough. At least she could still move around.
Traversing the subterranean corridors inflicted a sense of claustrophobia. Constricted. Cooped. She grew up with the notion that tight spaces equated to hiding holes or panic rooms.
It’s an unpleasant association.
In her opinion, being trapped Underground might as well be a death sentence.
At the end of that path stood a fish-shaped house. Looking through the window, she spotted the Papyrus of the past convincing Captain Undyne to befriend Frisk.
He made his dramatic exit by jumping through the glass.
Blink. Blink. She had no words for that absurdity.
The Papyrus of the past sped off to give his friends some privacy.
But the Papyrus of the present… sat down by the side, back against the wall. He’s curled up against his knees. Red, glowing scars of fire covered the right side of his skull.
As Lucidia had feared, he’s covered in remnants of burned Determination. She’s sure that there’s more of those underneath his distinctive ‘battle body’.
“Hello?” she asked.
Papyrus glanced towards her voice. His expression lit up in happiness.
“OH! ARE YOU A FAIRY?” he asked. “MAYBE A FAIRY GODMOTHER?!?”
Lucidia giggled. Despite everything, he still retained that shining charm.
“I suppose you can consider me as one for now.” Floating closer, she then asked, “Do you feel any pain?”
“ … IT STINGS. BUT IT DOESN’T HURT AS MUCH AS MY HEART.”
“What do you mean?”
“YOU’LL SEE.”
The Undyne of the past smashed the table with her spear. Lucidia wasn’t sure if she should laugh or sigh at the blatant chaos. Who in the world thought it’s acceptable to use a weapon to point out their favoured beverage?
The two sat down with some tea. And that’s when she heard what Undyne had to say:
“But, um, to be honest… I don’t know if… I can ever let Papyrus into the Royal Guard. Don’t tell him I said that!”
Lucidia’s heart ached with empathy. As far as she understood, that was Papyrus’ number one dream when he lived in the Underground.
The Undyne of the past continued, “He’s just… Well… I mean, it’s not that he’s weak. He’s actually pretty freaking tough! It’s just that he’s… he’s… He’s too innocent and nice!!!”
“I mean, look, he’s SUPPOSED to capture you… And he ended up being FRIENDS with you instead! I could NEVER send him into battle! He’d get ripped into little smiling shreds.”
“That’s part of why… I started teaching him how to cook, you know? So, um, maybe he can do something else with his life.”
It’s a wise, logical decision. War on any scale is brutal: it’s the place where innocence goes to die.
Lucidia could not blame the Captain. It’s her duty to protect those under her charge. If she thinks Papyrus would only get himself killed on the front lines…
Yes. There’s no other way.
“THIS IS THE THIRD TIME I’VE OVERHEARD THIS CONVERSATION.”
Her attention returned to the young one. Whatever hijinks that went on inside the fish house no longer mattered.
“IT’S LIKE A LOOPING VIDEO,” said Papyrus. “WHEN THE HOUSE CATCHES FIRE AND UNDYNE LEAVES FOR SNOWDIN, THIS SECTION WILL REPEAT AGAIN.”
“Fire?!” Lucidia exclaimed.
“YES. IT’S, UM, UNDYNE BRAND COOKING LESSONS. DON’T WORRY! THEY DON’T HURT. IT’S VISIONS AFTER ALL.”
It appears that Papyrus processes his visions in ‘chunks’: sections of specific events. It’s different compared to how Lucidia herself does it. She can only rebuild what she knows. In turn, she decides where everything begins and ends. Much more precise.
“Shall we move elsewhere?” she asked. “It’s not good for you to remain here.”
Papyrus stared at the ground for the next few moments. “COULD YOU TAKE ME HOME, MISS FAIRY GODMOTHER?”
“Of course, that’s what I’m here for. But, I can’t do that until I’ve healed you.”
“THEN, CAN YOU TAKE ME TO MY OTHER HOME?”
“Certainly,” Lucidia said. “Snowdin, is that correct?”
“NO. MY BROTHER AND I USED TO LIVE IN NEW HOME. I WANT TO GO THERE.”
“Oh, apologies. Let’s first see if I can use my magic.”
It would be trouble if she can’t. She needed all her Aspects at their fullest to restore Papyrus.
To her immense relief, Lucidia managed to levitate the bloke with little effort. Now she’s confident that she could accomplish her mission.
Though he couldn’t see her as anything more than a wisp, she ‘carried’ him like a child. Her thoughts drifted towards the faces of her nieces and nephews for a moment.
“Please show the way.”
Papyrus directed her to a nearby shortcut. The images of Undyne’s flaming house faded into nothingness when they phased through the gate.
They emerged out into a city made of light grey bricks. It’s sombre, unlike the more tranquil Waterfall.
Do the buildings reflect the heart of its inhabitants?
She sensed that they had stable, yet hopeless lives. It’s hard to believe that Papyrus came from a world devoid of colour. Perhaps he really was the lucky exception.
“THERE’S A SMALL FOUNTAIN SQUARE NEARBY. PLEASE TAKE ME TO THE BENCHES THERE.”
Those were some oddly specific instructions. Curiosity drove her to obey.
The square lay empty. As he had asked, she set him down on one of the benches.
“Shall we?”
“NOT YET,” he said. “KEEP LOOKING.”
His gaze fixated on the fountain itself.
It’s a simple scene: rushing waters, glistening underneath the city lights.
A cute skeleton boy rushed towards the structure, filled with childlike excitement. His sockets were mismatched, with the right slightly bigger than the left.
It’s none other than Papyrus in his tiny days.
She squealed inside. Here Lucidia thought he couldn’t get any more adorable.
The little boy -- about four to five years old -- zoomed everywhere. He conjured a bone and pretended that it was a sword, striking down imaginary enemies like the heroes of yore.
“NYEH HEH HEH!” So proclaimed the boy. “I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! A LOVABLE HERO SHOWERED BY LOTS OF FAN KISSES!”
The adult version echoed the exact same words in whispers. Lucidia saw a soft, nostalgic smile on his face.
“What will you do to be a hero, young man?”
Little Papyrus yelped. He didn’t expect anyone to pay heed to any of his fantasies, let alone comment on them.
A fellow skeleton in a black coat walked towards the boy. Split-scars and a smooth face: it’s the new-found entity named Doctor Gaster.
“Oh, he’s a human-type.” She commented. “A little on the thin side, but he fits the criteria. Corresponds to the golden ratio. Very similar to myself. Considering legs, this moment appears to be in pre-Amalgamated times.”
“HUMAN-TYPE?” The adult Papyrus asked back.
“Yes. Lichborn have physical variations from the second generation onwards. They range from ‘human’ to ‘monstrous’. You, for example, are of the monstrous-type with your atypical anatomy.”
It piqued his interest. “WHAT ABOUT MY BROTHER?”
Lucidia answered, “Monstrous-type also, down to to the illusion that he has an overweight paunch despite being all bones.”
“WOWIE!” Papyrus was honestly impressed. “IT ALL SOUNDS SO SMART AND SCIENCY. ARE YOU A SCIENTIST TOO?”
“That… depends on what you consider a ‘science’.”
The child had been staring at the doctor for a long while. It prompted a question of concern from the elder.
He asked, “What’s wrong?”
With a sparkle, the boy said: “ARE YOU A SKELETON LIKE ME? YOUR HANDS ARE ALL BONY.”
Gaster snickered. He seemed relieved. “Why yes, my boy. I am indeed a skeleton.”
Little Papyrus squealed. “I’VE NEVER SEEN ANOTHER SKELETON BEFORE! OTHER THAN MY BROTHER. DO YOU KNOW HIM? HE’S SANS. HE KNOWS EVERYBODY!”
“Of course. He’s my student.”
The boy smacked both hands on his cheekbones and gasped loud. “THAT’S SO AWESOME!”
“Well then,” Gaster asked, “Do you know who I am?”
“NOPE.”
He straightened his back with pride. “I am Doctor W. D. Gaster, the Royal Scientist.”
The gasping intensified. Nothing could withhold this child’s excitement. The grown up Papyrus chuckled at his younger self.
“WHAT IS A ROYAL SCIENTIST?” asked the little boy. “IT SOUNDS SO COOL! OH, OH, IF YOU’RE A DOCTOR DOES THAT MEANS YOU MAKE PEOPLE FEEL BETTER?”
The elder skeleton smiled. “I’m not really that kind of ‘doctor’, but I do have experience in medicine. People address me so more due to my smarts and knowledge. As for my job, I invent things to improve the lives of the citizens. Like you, and your brother.”
“Come to think of it,” he added, “You haven’t answered my question yet.”
“ARE YOU GONNA ASK MY NAME?”
“Well, I had already heard you loud and clear that you’re the ‘Great Papyrus’. Rather… I’m curious to know how you’re going to become a hero. What will you do?”
Little Papyrus thought about the question for a moment. Then, raising his bone high in the air, he declared: “I’M GONNA DO WHATEVER!”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Whatever?”
“YES! ANYTHING TO MAKE PEOPLE HAPPY. IF THEY NEED SOMEONE TO PROTECT THEM, I’LL DO IT! IF THEY NEED ME TO GO ON A JOURNEY, I’LL DO IT! IF I NEED TO SAVE PEOPLE, I’LL DO IT!”
“Would you capture an enemy if necessary?”
The boy tilted his head, puzzled. “WHAT IS ‘CAPTURE’?”
Gaster explained, “It’s containing something or someone for the safety of others. Have you tried to catch bugs with a bottle before? Maybe some snails? It’s the same principle.”
He nodded. “YOU MEAN LIKE, COLLECTING SOMETHING? AND THEN RELEASING THEM BACK LATER?”
“You can say so.”
The confusion cleared away to brimming enthusiasm. “I’LL DO IT!!!”
Delighted, the scientist patted the boy’s shoulder. “Very good. Very, very good. You’re on the right path, my boy. Never give up.”
“CAN I CALL YOU UNCLE GASTER?”
Gaster’s sockets widened in surprise. Placing a hand on his chest, he asked: “Why? There’s no relation between us.”
“YOU’RE A SKELETON,” said Little Papyrus. “THAT MEANS WE’RE FAMILY. CALLING YOU ‘DOCTOR’ IS LIKE MAKING YOU A STRANGER. YOU’RE NOT A STRANGER!”
“Then certainly, Papyrus! You may call me Uncle Gaster. Say, I have something that you might find fun. It’s called a ‘featherdisk’. It’s one of my inventions.”
The toy was exactly as described: it’s a weighted disk with some feathers glued to it. She used to play a similar game while still a child. It required a sense of balance and good reflexes. That kind of athleticism never was her favoured activity.
Before long, Little Papyrus and Doctor Gaster took turns to bounce the disc around. Both had Orange Aspects, giving them a natural gift for the physical arts.
With this simple act, the child did not know how much he had moved that man’s heart. It’s a sentiment that would one day save this lonely soul from the madness of despair.
However, Lucidia also recognized a dangerous preposition. According to her husband, Doctor Gaster had strayed from righteousness since the death of Prince Asriel. It’s too easy for him to manipulate the innocent boy toward his ideals.
Most abusers are not strangers: they’re people a child knows.
“You’re very lucky,” she said to the grown-up one.
“I KNOW,” said Papyrus. “IT’S BECAUSE MY BROTHER WATCHES OVER ME. HE’S AT THE WEST CORNER. LOOK.”
Sure enough, Lucidia spotted the teenaged Sans spying on the event. He’s more than ready to intercept if Gaster crosses the line.
The fairy turned her sight away from the guardian angel. Her opinionated thoughts must wait.
“I’ll work on you now,” she said.
Papyrus nodded. He lay down still and stared into the yonder.
She extended her magic over his skull, recalling every bit of information she could gather about the young seer: his structure, his balance of colours, his being before this unfortunate accident.
Thanks to Mezil’s observations, Lucidia knew she could heal this youngster…
…If, he’d let her. Whatever she tried to stitch and weave got undone by his own will. It’s similar to a person picking underneath the threads before tugging them out.
The more she tried, the more blatant the signs became: eyelids flinched and limbs tensed.
Active refusal would only worsen the scars. Therefore, she withdrew.
“Papyrus,” said Lucidia, “Please let me heal you.”
He remained silent.
“Don’t punish yourself.”
He removed his mittens and touched the burned side of his face. At first, his hand jerked back from the lightest contact. But the second time around, he forced himself to maintain it.
Then, the sharp tips of his fingerbones dug deep into the glowing red burns of residual Determination.
Lucidia pushed the hand away with her telekinesis. Held it down for his life’s worth.
“Stop,” she said with a stern tone. “I will not let you inflict further self-harm. If you try again, I will tie you down with my Purple Aspect. And I guarantee that I will do it in a way where you won’t be able to shift around to further aggravate your wounds.”
It’s always the same pattern.
It starts with a touch.
Followed by a scratch.
Then it spirals into mutilation.
It’s an extreme coping mechanism that she had observed in too many profiles. Lucidia refused to let this cinnamon roll become another terrible statistic.
Papyrus continued his empty stare towards the high ceilings of his cavernous homeland. A few seconds later he confessed:
“THIS PAIN IS THE REALEST THING I’VE FELT IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.”
“EVERYTHING ELSE WAS LIKE A DREAM. HAPPY DREAMS. SAD DREAMS. ANNOYING DREAMS. BUT STILL DREAMS. ILLUSIONS. LIES. LIKE MY PROCLAMATIONS OF GREATNESS AND FAME.”
“THE WEIRD BURNS HURT. A LOT. BUT THEY’RE HONEST. REAL. HONESTLY REAL.”
Orange tears dripped from his Eye, flowing down onto the bench.
“BEFORE I MET FRISK,” he said, “I HAD NO FRIENDS. I ONLY HAD FAMILY. BROTHER SANS, AND UNDYNE.”
“PEOPLE WOULD SMILE AT THE FRONT, THEN GOSSIP BEHIND MY BACK ABOUT MY WEIRDNESS. MOST OF THE TIME I WAS JUST KNOWN AS ‘HIM’ OR ‘SANS’ BROTHER’.”
“I KNEW THAT. BUT I REFUSED TO BELIEVE THEY’RE BAD PEOPLE. IF PEOPLE CAN CHOOSE TO BE GOOD. TO BE NICE. THEN… THEN MAYBE ONE DAY THEY CAN BE GOOD TO ME TOO.”
“THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN.”
His entire being rattled, trying so hard to remain coherent and still. It’s tempting to give in and wail.
“I… I WISH NO ONE NEEDED TO LIE TO ME,” he whimpered. “I’M SO HURT AND ANGRY AND FRUSTRATED. NOT AT THEM, BUT AT MYSELF. THEY KNOW I CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH. THAT’S WHY THEY DID EVERYTHING TO HIDE IT.”
“I REALLY AM A STUPID, STUPID PERSON.”
Papyrus said no more.
He curled up and buried his face against the back of the seat. The muffled sobbing intensified.
He called her a ‘Fairy Godmother’.
Now Lucidia worried if she could ever live up to the title.
She let him cry for a little while longer.
“Do you want to hear a story?” she eventually asked. A last ditch effort. Papyrus liked stories. Perhaps this was the anchor he needed to brace through the storm.
After a sniffle, he agreed with a simple nod.
“Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in the sky. She had the best view, the best clothes, the best education, the best loving family. The girl had everything a child ever asked for, except for one complication: friends.”
“The title of princess added an unfair value on her life. As much as she wanted to mingle with children of her age, too many of ill-repute preyed on her. To trouble matters more, she knew that her people were seen as legends to those who lived on land.”
“When she gazed down the world below, she saw not beauty. No. She perceived it as a dangerous, deceptive maze where intentions hid behind amicable masks.”
“The princess tried to connect to her fellow kin who lived at the ocean. Alas, her thinking and ways were like night to day: a polar opposite further exacerbated by her upbringing. Disappointed, disillusioned, the lonely princess thus locked herself up in the clouds of home. Focused on nothing but the studies of her magic.”
“One fateful night, her life got tossed upside-down. A demon murdered the world’s guardian, forcing her to flee into the labyrinthian cities far below.”
“It was then,” she smiled, “The princess met her saviour. He was just a normal citizen who lived a secluded existence amongst the crowd. Ah, he looked so stern and scary. But… he’s a man true to his heart.”
The tale enthralled Papyrus. It’s too soon to say he had forgotten about his own pain. Nonetheless, he no longer focused on himself.
“OH, OH! THAT MAN BECAME THE PRINCESS’ PERSONAL KNIGHT! I’M SUPER SURE, BECAUSE THAT’S HOW FAIRY TALES GO! NYEH!”
Lucidia nodded, despite realising that Papyrus may not see the motion. “Mhmm, he did become the princess’ personal knight. She was smitten by his subtle kindness. If she had one wish… it’s to devote her entire life to him.”
“Yes. She fell in love. However, not just her alone. Another woman tried to compete for the affections of their reclusive hero. And who knows, there might have been a man or two who vied for his attention too.”
“…Though she had fine clothes and a high status, insecurity haunted the princess. A gilded coward. He’s born of the earth and she’s of the sky. It’d only be natural for him to choose a member of his own kind.”
“Love turned into an obsession. At her weakest… the demon who once drove her from her home offered a deal. He told her that if she cooperated, her beloved knight will know the depths of her desire.”
With a twinge of pain in her voice, Lucidia said: “The princess agreed to those schemes. Her ethics and morals reasoned away with twisted logic. Indeed, she just wanted the competitors to leave her knight alone… But a demon’s deal always takes a turn for the worst. One by one, her rivals ‘left’: in untimely and often gruesome deaths.”
“The princess protested. ‘This isn’t part of the deal’. ‘It’s not supposed to be this way’.
“‘Except this is what you wished for.’ The demon told her in the face.”
“The lie became an uncomfortable reality. Contemplation, useless: left no more than the consequences of her sins. Once her knight meets his demise, the demon will devour her as payment for his services.”
“The demon then trapped the knight in the fires of Hell. In sadistic mercy, he kept his promise to the princess: she had one chance to confess her heart’s content. The knight will know her love… but he won't live to return it.”
“That’s what she did. Her love made itself known in tears of regret and despair. It’s the end. Unavoidable fate. There’s no hope of undoing her folly.”
“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Papyrus exclaimed. “THE KNIGHT SURVIVED! HE DIDN’T DIE!”
“Why not?” Lucidia asked back. “Do you already have a ‘fanfiction’ in mind?”
He shook his head. “NO! IT’S THE TRUTH! HE UPGRADED FROM A NORMAL KNIGHT INTO A WIZARD KNIGHT! AND THEN HE TURNED BACK TIME TO GIVE EVERYONE A HAPPY ENDING!”
“I KNOW BECAUSE I MET HIM IN THE FLESH!!!”
Papyrus blushed orange, embarrassed from his intense outburst. “I…UH… SORRY. MAYBE I GOT THE IDENTITY WRONG.”
“Tell me,” said the fairy. “What’s his name?”
“MEZIL THYME,” he answered. “OR RATHER, MEZIL WINSTON. BACK THEN HE STILL HAD HIS OLD NAME.”
She chuckled. “Papyrus, you’re far from dimwitted. That is indeed the correct answer.”
He uttered the loudest gasps. “I’M RIGHT?!?! OH MY GOD!!! BUT I THOUGHT I’M THE IDIOT? I-I MEAN I CALLED QUEEN TORIEL AN ASGORE CLONE.”
“Well, it’s possible to be conventionally smart yet terribly unwise. Such as the princess who sold her soul to the devil. Such as your Uncle Gaster, who almost consumed the lives of an entire nation in the name of salvation. The greatest crimes are born from desperation and delusion.”
“BUT MISTER MAGUS RESCUED YOU.”
It shocked Lucidia. Sure, her husband’s identity was blatant enough. But herself?
“How?” she must ask. “Your Eye is still not fully functional…”
Papyrus smiled back. “THAT’S TRUE, FAIRY GODMOTHER. I STILL DON’T KNOW YOUR NAME. I DON’T KNOW YOUR FACE EITHER. IT’S JUST THAT, THE WAY YOU TOLD YOUR STORY… IT’S EXTRA PERSONAL.”
“SO, THE REAL ENDING OF THE STORY IS THIS: THE BAD GUY’S GONE, EVERYTHING’S OKAY, AND THE PRINCESS MARRIED HER ONE TRUE HERO! THE END!”
How she wished it’s that simple.
If only Persona didn’t exist.
That reality was too painful for her own heart to admit.
Lucidia remained silent, unable to confirm or deny.
“… EXCEPT IT’S NOT, RIGHT?” Papyrus appended. “I’M SORRY. YOU TWO HAD A VERY HARD LIFE. I THOUGHT IT’LL CHEER YOU UP, NOT MAKE YOU FEEL WORSE.”
There’s something about that blessed skeleton’s precious face tempted her to sugarcoat her feelings. Except, playing along with his wishful thinking would be lying to him all over again. It will perpetuate the searing scars embedded in his being.
“PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF IT HURTS YOU. I DON’T WANT TO REMAIN IGNORANT ANYMORE.”
In the end, she chose to respect his wishes. “It hurts.” she said, “But. You didn’t mean any harm. Apology accepted. Query: what exactly did you see in my husband’s past?”
“NOTHING,” Papyrus admitted. “IT’S JUST A WHOLE LOT OF ‘FEELING’. PAINFUL FEELINGS. REAL. AND HONEST. LIKE MY BURNS.”
“Accurate. They are as raw as you describe,” said Lucidia. “Since we of magic lack ‘determination’, the Persona considered us to be weak abominations: devoid of human resilience and ripe for the slaughter.”
“When he found out that Mezil had married me, he did everything he could to destroy the sanctity of our union.”
“And I meant ‘everything’.”
She paused for a moment to recollect herself. “I will always remember his arrogant demeanor. He once drove Mezil to a dead end in hopes that he’d break down and lose his will to fight. The Persona will then be next in line to possess the Keys of Fate.”
“…If there’s one thing I learned from my husband, it is to defy evil. Refuse to be enslaved by cynics. Fight for my dream. Embrace my humanity. I never had the luxury to entertain nihilism: the moment I’d falter, the Persona would rip us apart like the beast he was.”
“Papyrus,” thus said Lucidia. “Pain is not the realest feeling in the world, physical or emotional. It’s just the most glaring: grabbing your attention while distracting you from everything and everyone around you.”
“Perhaps you had lived a constructed, sheltered life. But the moments you experienced were not falsehoods, nor illusions. The joy, the love, the sadness, and the little frustrations of your daily chores… they all count as bonafide truths.”
“It is unfair to equate naivete with optimism. It’s possible to be both naive and pessimistic. Take it from someone who had experienced such first hand.”
“I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION,” so Papyrus asked.
Lucidia answered: “Yes?”
“ARE YOU HAPPY?”
The reply came swift, without hesitation. “Of course.” She said, “If I didn’t dare to love, I would continue to be the lonely princess of the sky.”
“If I must be honest, I do wish we could have had a quieter life. But, what doesn’t kill us… doesn’t kill us. We cope. We learn. And we try to help others who were wounded just the same.”
“It’s strange, isn’t it? Both my husband and I bear scars that might never heal. Yet, we’re living better than our so-called ideal youth.”
A sense of deep peace reflected on Papyrus’ visage.
“THANK YOU,” he said. “I… I UNDERSTAND NOW THAT YOU CAN ONLY HEAL MY POWERS. YOU WON'T MAKE ME GO BACK TO MY OLD SELF.”
“About that subject,” she added. “By technicality, my husband could fix your memories--”
“NO RESETS.”
His statement surprised her.
Papyrus glanced to and fro as he wrestled with his own decision. “I DON’T WANT TO FORGET ANYTHING. I WANT TO SEE THE WORLD FOR WHAT IT IS… SO I CAN HELP OTHERS BETTER.”
“COULD YOU PASS THAT MESSAGE TO MISTER MAGUS?”
Lucidia expected him to at least struggle for a few more weeks before coming to that conclusion. Most people take time to come to terms. Some never do.
Then again, she wondered why she’d be so astonished.
He is a child of ‘courage’ after all.
“Certainly.”
Her magic flowed into the young man. Section per section, flakes of reconstructed bone replaced the fiery blood-red glow.
No resistance.
“Alright, I hope that didn’t itch too much.”
The past stopped looping altogether. First, the images froze. Then the false world began to vanish from the farthest edges of the drab city.
Bit by bit, as the wounds in his heart healed, the rampant visions scattered off into the void.
* * *
[DISCONNECTING]
[POWERING OFF ASPECTS]
[BLUE: OFFLINE]
[GREEN: OFFLINE]
[PURPLE: OFFLINE]
[VITAL SIGNS: ALL CLEAR]
[HAVE A GOOD DAY, SEER LUCIDIA]
She’s back in reality. Breathing a tired sigh, she removed the visors and placed them back in their docking bay.
The flower children rushed up to her.
“Welcome back!” said Flowey. “How did it go?”
Chara in their ever-sarcastic slant added: “We certainly had a moment here.”
Lucidia placed a finger on her mouth and uttered a soft shush.
It’s a universal symbol, so the flowers quieted themselves.
“What happened?” the woman asked.
“Nothing big,” Chara responded with a whisper. “Just mister sleepy skelly moving his body all on his own. And… well… you know.”
Flowey frowned. “He tried to claw his face off. We tied him up with our vines until he relaxed. It’s another day in creepy sleepwalking land alright.”
“…Papyrus was in deep pain.” Lucidia said with a tinge of sadness.
Then, she cheered up. “It’s different now. He had found new peace and resolve. Because of that, I could heal him of his injuries.”
The children uttered a soft ‘yay’.
Then, Flowey brought up a good question: “What now?”
“To prepare for the Trial of the Crimson Hall. But first… I think all of us need a good night’s rest. I’ll stay here for a little while longer to watch over Papyrus.”
That young man was already snoring away. Did the healing process sooth him so much that it lulled him to sleep? Or did his newfound peace release him from the grips of restlessness?
It didn’t matter now.
“Meh, if that’s the case Chara and I are gonna play that silly fighting game.”
“Ooooh are you sure Azzie?” the other flower wriggled their brows. “You? Against me?”
“Hah, games and reality are two different things. I’m soooo gonna beat your rooty butt this time.”
“Game, on.”
Off the flower children went.
When she’s sure that there were no prying eyes, Lucidia floated over to the sleeping one. She unfolded a blanket and spread it out over his being.
Then… she gently lifted his head and pushed aside the pillow. Rested his skull on her lap.
Lucidia hummed a lullaby and caressed his temple.
It’s the same tune her nanny used to sing to her when she was a little girl.
The smile refused to fade.
He’s adorable. Somehow, despite his asymmetric sockets and goofy demeanour, Papyrus is one handsome skeleton. He certainly fits that kind ‘cinnamon roll’ vibe.
…Just like Uncle James.
She sang:
“Hush, hush, little one. Rest for the ‘morrow.”
“Rest, rest, sleeping youth. Sleep under the hallow.”
“May your dreams be fair and light, reflecting of a righteous heart.”
“Guided by colours of the seven virtues, the sacred works of art.”
“Grow, grow, my precious hero. Angels sing of valiant tales.”
“On a mighty ship of love, with compassion as your sails.”
Hmm. If Mezil and I could bear children, our firstborn might be around the same age.
“Sleep tight, young Papyrus.”