Undersong

The sun had set and night had come. The lights in the sky had been covered by clouds. A ghastly darkness hung all around.

“W-what?” she said. “H-hey, if this is a joke, it isn’t very funny.” She stood up and started backing away.

“But you haven’t even heard the punchline yet,” I said.

“Y-you’re really freaking me out, kid. S-stop making that face...”

I saw in her shaking legs that she wouldn’t fight back. Her expression was filled with fear and wariness, but one more provocation would cause her to flee. Now was the time, then. Her usefulness had been exhausted.

I inhaled, clutching tighter to the handle of my knife. The next move needed to proceed smoothly if we were to avoid unnecessary mess. I struck along the neck with a swift stroke. The clouds in the sky cleared away, and moonlight caught the splay that appeared as if it was a flurry of rose petals turning in the wind.

She fell to the ground. Her body made no sounds.

“Looks like you’re pushing up daisies now,” I said. It wasn’t funny. I laughed anyway.

Once she was gone, I had a moment to think to myself. It hadn't been much fun. I was still getting used to how different this world was from our own. Hopefully they wouldn’t all be like this. No, there’d be someone along the line strong enough to survive... for a time. They could make it fun. Before then, though, I’d have to make the most of what I had. This could be interesting, if I played it out properly.

I turned my back to the forest threshold. I left the edge of the trees and walked home. In the dark the light from the windows lit up the grass. When I got to the door, it wasn’t locked.

“Hey—” I said before stopping. There was the trace of something sickly sweet wafting though the house. My stomach churned. A shudder shook my body and I knelt to the ground, clutching the splintering pain in my head. It was too soon. I can’t be... This couldn’t be the...

“Oh!” said a voice from the kitchen. “Were you outside this whole time? Please don’t run off like that again. Here, I brought home an apple pie that my friend made for you.”

When she had walked in and seen me, she stopped. The parcel in her mouth dropped to the ground. The room was full of the smell of cinnamon.

The knife fell from your hand. You looked around in confusion, settling your sight on Fluttershy. “I—?” You struggled to recall the last hour. “Sorry, when I woke up, you weren’t home. I thought you might be outside, so I looked around there. I guess I didn’t notice when you came back.”

She took a moment to recompose herself. Then she smiled.

“Oh, I probably should have left you a letter, at least. But I honestly did not expect you to be up and about so soon.” She looked down at the knife laying on the ground. “That said, you really ought not to play with things like this.” She picked up the knife and the parcel from the ground. “You could have hurt yourself quite badly.”

You chuckled at this last thought. You weren’t entirely sure why you had brought it outside, but surely...

“Well, where I come from, it’s rather common for dangerous creatures to be roaming around randomly. I, I think I picked that up out of instinct, as a means to protect myself from potential danger.”

Did you really believe that?

Fluttershy giggled. “You won’t have to worry about any dangerous creaures here, Frisk. Even the big bear only looks dangerous, and he’s only like that when he’s gotten grumpy over something. And if that ever happens, a back rub and a eager ear are all that you need to calm him down.”

You nodded. You had felt a pang of unease at the thought of using the knife against another creature. But your memory of those emotions soon coalesced into a pool of unintelligible slurry. In its wake was left only the image of Fluttershy looking at you quizzially. You stopped nodding and shook your head to attention with an abashed grin.

“Here, let’s have some of this apple-cinammon pie. It’d be an awful shame to have it go to waste.” She gestured to the kitchen where two plates had already been set out.

You followed her there and sat down at the small kitchen table.

She cut the pie quickly and served you a slice. She took the next piece, and together you tried it. It was exquisite. Your heart brimmed with joy.

“Hm, that’s odd,” said Fluttershy. “I think I taste the faintest hint of rose. Applejack must have tweaked her recipe.”

“Applejack?” you asked.

“She’s the one who made you the pie. She has a whole orchard of apples out near here. She’s a great cook, too.” Fluttershy beamed while taking another bite. “Maybe you will have a chance to meet her soon.”

“I’d like that,” you said, finishing off your plate of pie.

When the dishes were cleaned and put away, Fluttershy turned to you and said, “I know this might sound like an off-the-wall question to you, but what do you think of school?”

“What do I think... of school?” you said back to her. You reached back into mind, trying to recall anything useful.

Yo, dude... Hey, I thought we were friends! Why are you doing this? Hey! I’m talking to... d-don’t look at me like that.

(Oh man. This is bad. What would Papyrus do?)

Yo! I know this looks bad, but I think this might just be a big misundersta—

Head hurt for a moment. But you came back with an answer.

“Mom ran a school. But something tragic happend during classes one day. They had to shut the whole thing down. She wasn’t very happy about that. That had been her dream, too, to be a teacher.” You sighed. “Since it happend so soon after I started, I never actually experienced what school was really like. So, I don’t know.”

Fluttershy stood and pondered on your words.

“You’re still young, right, Frisk? I don’t know how your kind ages, but I assume you’re still a kid?”

“Ya, I’m still a kid.”

How old were you really? I suppose it depended upon how you were counting.

“If you want, tomorrow I can take you to the school in town. Since you don’t really have anything to do in the meantime, and I have a few things I need see to that day, you could spend some time getting to know ponies nearer to your own age. How does that sound?”

“Sure.” You hadn’t thought over it, but you saw no reason to argue.

“Okay, then.” Fluttershy tapped your shoulder. “Now you need to go to bed.”

Despite having only woken up a couple of hours prior, you genuinely felt fatigued. You nodded your assent, yawning. She took you back to your room, tucked you in, and sang a short lullaby before leaving quietly.

You fell asleep before the door had closed.

Wind over the grass rustled the leaves of the trees. Moonlight and the bright twinkling stars loomed overhead, coloring over the darkness. These scenes reached you while you slept. They formed the background beneath your eyes now blind at bedtime.

You felt the grass brush up against your face and awoke with a start. You were outside, facing toward the edge of a forest. In the air hung the hum of a familiar melody. She was there with a watering pot, pouring water over the plants. They sparkled with small drops of dew.

She was that flowerpony from town. Yet that wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be here, not after the dead of night. The song still rung in your ear. The water flowed from her pail.

You shook your head with a reserved resolve, walked up to her, and tapped her with your hand.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there.” She turned back to the patch of flowers she was watering. “I wasn’t expecting any company tonight.” The buds drooped sadly on their stems. They were rather small and didn’t have a smell. “But it will be nice for a change. Few ponies will see lunar blooms in their prime.” As soon as she had said this, one by one the flowers stood up straight and their petals unfurled fully.

They all threw the dew on their buds into the air around them. As the moon shown on these drops, the whole glade lit up like an outlandish starfield. An uncanny glow came from the blossoms. The scent of nocturnal life emerged, and you were swallowed by the smell of the morning hours. Like a daydream you sat together watching it all unfold. Except this was more like a nightwake, a mixture of darkness and keen awareness. Even the slight mist sent out and falling gently on the grass grazed your cheeks. The cold moister ran down your face.

“Every month, when the New Moon shines in the sky, I come out her and water these flowers. If the night is bright enough, they bloom. And when the night is finished, they die. But the small pockets of pollen sent out tonight will find more flowers, and from those will come seeds that reach the ground. In only a month’s time, they sprout, a fresh batch of these strange flowers. It’s like life.”

“What happens to those that don’t bloom?” you asked suddenly.

“Mm? Oh, well, I suppose if one never bloomed, it would just keep on living here, stooped a little, still waiting for the time when it can finally unfurl.”

You looked on at the flowers swaying, throwing out their pollen, and living their last moments in a beautiful blaze. You imagined a single stooped stem set in among them, hidden by the glory of its peers.

“Hey, you know my name, but I don’t know yours,” you said to her.

She smiled broadly. “Oh, I’m—”

A circle of seed-like pellets surrounded her. They all came crashing down onto her. She had the same look of surprise your Dad had when he died. In a moment her whole body had evaporated into the wind, a stream of red petals scattered between the trees.

Hee hee. You will never learn, will you?

Your hands were shaking. You didn’t want to be afraid. You were too angry to be afraid.

Being friends, getting to know people, caring about them. All of this just opens up your heart to be hurt. Flowey popped up from out of the dirt. His menacing grin spread wide across his flowery face. Under the earth, something was stirring. But I know how you are. You’ll want to fix this. You’ll want to go back to undo the “mistake”. So go ahead. Reset us. I’ll wait.

You stood there silently.

Wait, that’s right. You can’t, can you? All that power lost. What an utter waste. His face contorted into a mock contemplation. On second thought, it was wasted on you to begin with. So good riddance.

From the center of your soul a memory escaped. It lifted up into the air as a beam of light. You grasped it in your hand. And here it was: the worn dagger, perfect for cutting down weeds like these.

Sassy. So you think you can fight me? Well, we’ll see about that. The earth rumbled. The ground split apart. From under the flower a form of hellish proportions appeared. Its glass-laced face glowered down upon you. In a voice like the rumble of a busted lawnmower it said, You have no friends who will save you this time.

A protrusion of vines in the shape of a fist struck down from above. You leapt out of the way. The ground and the grass scuffed up your shirt. You got up and struck a determined stance. Whatever this monster was, you would refuse to let it win.

Honestly, I’ll almost feel bad for defeating you so easily. An impossible onslaught of bullets rent the air to pieces. But not really! They all flew toward you, filling every possible avenue of escape. You gritted your teeth and crossed your arms over your face. The sound of them slicing through the air filled your ears. A blue-tinged aura blazed at either side of your sight.

They struck, and you heard them strike. But you were unscathed.

“Do not worry, my child. I am here to protect you,” she said soothingly.

You brought your arms down. “M—!” You stopped. Your smile wavered. Your joy was quelled, but the thankfulness of surviving still remained. “Who—?”

Standing with you under the canopy of her magic shield was a dark blue unicorn. She turned to you, holding her head aloft. “I am the Ruler of the Night. I am the guardian of ponies’ dreams. I am Princess Luna.” She turned to Flowey. “You must be the one that my vision warned me of. I have followed it here. Now you will be vanquished and I will be victorious!” She readied her horn and thumped the ground aggressively.

How precious. You think I’m the threat. With my most heartfelt symphathy I inform you that this is not the case. I’m merely a shade of regret locked in the depths of that damned soul. So killing me, even if you could, would help you none.

Luna looked confused. “If not you, then—?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. This was better than I could have dreamed. Or rather this was the best that I could dream. Even so, excitement pumped through me. A nervous ache pounded in my blood.

She turned to me, then. She looked me in the eyes. If I could have loved, I would have loved that look they get when they see my eyes. My soul stirred at that cold terror, that purely reflexive action, struck suddenly upon their faces.

“You can’t kill my best friend.” I pointed the knife at her. “Only I am allowed to do that.” I laughed hard. Why was nothing ever funny anymore?

She recovered from her shock. She stepped back and stood defensively. Her horn glowed with more blue aura. The signs of a magic spell hung in the air. She wasn’t going to waste time with dialogue. Fine. I wouldn’t have listened anyway. Though there was something off about the whole ordeal. This went against the usual course of events. I would say new world, new rules, but...

“Hey, why are you so quick to fight me?” I asked her. “Is a menacing pose really all it takes to ruffle your feathers?”

She stopped. She actually stopped and thought. Her face could not decide upon an emotion to express, so at last it settled into dispassionate distrust. “If you are what I believe you to be, I cannot afford to be off-guard.”

Now that was interesting. Despite myself, my curiousity finally forced me to ask, “And what is it that I might be?”

Her whole body tensed up. Her eyes stayed alert. Her hooves gripped the dirt. “Something that shouldn’t be here!” she said before pounding the earth and firing off a volley of magical blasts. What a disappointing answer. Oh well.

I saw them coming, and I stepped aside. I noticed the unnatural slowness of a preparatory attack. My mind began its mapping of her patterns. At least here at the beginning of battle there was nothing unusual. She would progress in the speed and complexity of her attacks. She would have a pattern of several different versions of the same mechanic. Possibly, but unlikely so soon, she could have a second stage of attack attempting to throw me off after I’d learned the initial stage. But what I learned from the initial stage would tie back into the next and allow me to successfully overcome it.

A swirl of will-o’-the-wisps whipped by. I saw the way they swerved. The homing was slight, but it would take some concious herding on my part. When they landed in the background, they popped and spilled out light over the nighttime.

Maybe a dozen or so projectiles flew at me at a time. That wouldn’t be enough, and she knew that it wouldn’t be enough. She was baiting me. She was waiting for me to reveal my dark powers and attack her with some unholy strength. She expected me to be the boss monster.

I laughed, and an echo in the trees laughed back. Strangely enough, it was never a megalomaniacal laugh, like the laugh that a mad villain would produce.

Do you remember when you told some awful pun and, despite yourselves, you laughed after the silence had passed? That kind of laugh, the kind of laugh that you have after finding something surprisingly funny, and funny in a way nearly unbearable, was the laugh that I had.

She didn’t find this any funnier than I did. But she showed her frustration. Her face was filled with fury.

“Pick up the pace. It’d be pleasant to have this done before morning.”

The next round she actually attacked. She flung a wide tide of blue at me. The easy part had gone. There was little room here for error, so I constrained myself. In one quick breath my limbs went numb. My heart beat quickly, and my chest glowed with its heat. I kept my center secure and passed through the stream. They grazed my arms and legs, but the wounds could not hurt. I shifted left and right, walking toward her slowly. Her mouth wavered when I came close.

“Goodnight.” I was close enough now. “And don’t let the bed-bugs bite.” In one motion I plunged the blade into her chest, around where I thought her heart might be. Out of the wound streamed strange ribbons of starlight.

“This isn’t the end!” she said. “You might have defeated me tonight.” She bit down with her teeth, gnashing them in defiance. “But we will not lose this fight.”

Suddenly I realized something. She thought she was going to survive.

“This is all just a bad dream, isn’ it? You’re not really here. Neither am I.” I looked over at her disappearing form. Under the dome of stars, set far higher than any cave ceiling, we stood together. She said nothing else to me. In the shadows on the edge of the forest, I saw the plants receding. “This, however, will ensure you never wake up.”

She didn’t believe me. How could she put on such a skeptical expression? Time to wipe it away.

I smiled. The earth shook and a row of vines shot out. They wrapped around her. An electric buzz filled the atmosphere, along with maniacal laughter. That was the laughter of someone who took this villainous role seriously.

Shock shattered the scene. The night bled out into white.

You awoke to the morning Sun streaming over the windowsill. The terror of a nightmare half-remembered lingered on your sweating face. Your chest relaxed, and your breathing slowed. The face of the flower-seller was etched onto your vision. Her expression had said that Asgore was really dead. Was that what your dream had told you? There was more, but it all looked like an image as seen through clouded glass. Colors moved, and voices spoke. But the colors blurred into formless splotches and the voices were hollowed-out and unintelligible.

You shook your head, trying to clear away the murk. While fully alert, no more of your memory came back. You sat up and stepped out off the bed. It was just a dream. Yet a very faint dread hung in the background.

You decided to stop dwelling on it when you smelled the sweet aroma that had wafted into your room. It called out to your hungry stomach, and you dutifully followed it to the kitchen where Fluttershy was cooking.

“Did you have a nice night of sleep?” she asked when she saw you.

You weren’t sure what to say. “I had a bad dream.” That was fine.

“Oh? What was it about?” She turned back to the food she was cooking.

“I don’t remember.”

She placed two plates upon the table: scambled eggs, toasted bread, and a few long, green stems. Eggs and toast? This universe must be written by wavering hand.

Together you ate quietly. When you tried to bite into the stems, you found them too tough and bitter to endure. So instead you left them on the plate.

“Yesterday I talked to the schoolteacher Cheerilee. If you still would be willing to go to classes, she’d be happy to have you.”

You thought on this. “Ya, sure, I’ll still go.”

“Then let's go!” she said with a smile.

The schoolhouse was to the Northeast. It sat in a small clearing, near to the river that circled this town. Small ponies walked along the road in groups of two or three, chattering excitedly to each other. You looked over them and started to wonder whether this was a good idea after all.

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do fine. Just ask when you don’t understand something. Don’t feel stupid, because there’s always someone too afraid to say when they’re lost.”

The schoolhouse stood before you. The two of you stepped through the doorway. A few ponies had come in and were now sitting at their desks. They ignored you and continued either reading books or speaking amongst themselves

“Oh, so they decided to come,” said the adult pony at the largest desk. “Well, we’re glad to have you today.” She stood up and trotted over to you. “My name is Ms. Cheerilee. I’m the town teacher.” She nodded her head toward you.

Fluttershy nudged you a bit from behind.

“Uh. I’m Frisk.” What in the world did they do at school again? Come to think of it, you’d completely forgotten. Did it involve lots of fighting? Would it be dangerous? Well, no time like present to find out... “Um, what am I supposed to do?”

The teacher smiled at you, stepping toward a small desk. “Just sit here. Class will start in a few minutes.”

You obeyed. The clock on the wall ticked by the time, agonizingly slow. Fluttershy had left. You were alone.

There were other ponies here, but they weren’t with you. They seemed to ignore you sitting there. Their chatter put your nerves on edge.

A bell rang shrill throughout the room. Its sharp sound almost startled you out of your skin. Before you could recover, you were sprawled on the ground. This desk was hard to sit at. It wasn’t really made for you.

As you picked yourself up from the ground, the whole class was laughing. Ms. Cheerilee cleared her throat. The sound stopped. She smiled as if nothing had happened.

“Today we have a new student. Everyone say hello to Frisk.”

You stood there facing them. They looked bored. Some muttered a half-hearted hello. Others just played with their pencils.

“Why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself, Frisk, so we can get to know you better.”

—getting to know people—

A cold terror gripped you, and your mind went utterly blank.

“Well, um.” You stumbled for something to say. “I like cinnamon?”

Someone coughed.

After a few seconds, Cheerilee’s smile became quizzical. “Is that all you want to tell us?”

What else did you have to tell?

“Uh, sure. I’m, that’s all.”

“If that’s all you want to say, I won’t pressure you for more. You can sit down now.”

You took her advice and sat down, still a bit shaky.

She unrolled a map above her blackboard.

“Today we will be reviewing the First Chaosade. I hope everyone has read Chapter 15 in An Equestrian Primer. If not, just ask Twist if you can copy her notes.” Cheerilee winked.

“Wait, what?!” You fell out of your seat again.

The class went by quicker than you thought it would. After the lesson (most of which you couldn’t comprehend), Cheerilee apologized for forgetting to get you a text book before class started. She gave you An Equestrian Primer by Historical Analogue. And while the weight of it daunted you, she assured you that she wouldn’t hold you responsible for reading the whole thing in one go.

The real surprise arrived when you opened it up.

“I can’t read any of this,” you said, defeated. You held up the book. It was filled with strange symbols, none of which you recognized.

“Can you really not read? Or is that just a poor excuse for not wanting to do the assignment?” she asked slyly.

“Really! I’ve never seen this language before. Is it really the same thing we’re speaking?”

“It is. That’s Equestrian, certainly. Wait. Can you read this?” She wrote on the blackboard.

“Ya, that says ‘cat’?”

“Oh, I see. That makes more sense. You must’ve only learned romanized Equestrian.”

How does that make any sense at all?

“How am I supposed to read this book, then?” you asked her.

“I can teach you traditional Equestrian. It’s a bit of a tax on memory, being a logographic system. But I’m sure you could pick it up with plenty of practice.”

You sighed, resigned. Your head hurt just thinking about it.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go outside and play awhile with the other ponies? Exercise and clean air should clear your head. We can start on the tough stuff tomorrow. I’ll even take the time to tutor you personally, if that would help.”

You nodded to her and smiled up sadly. After placing the book down on your desk, you left. Beside the school was a small playground. Ponies were running around it, having fun.

So much for school. You were honestly unsure whether you would come back.

You wandered over to the playgound, idly appraising the swings and the monkey bars. This place was weird. But still, you decided to have a go at the swing-set. It looked sturdy enough and, more importantly, normal enough. It shouldn’t pose any problems.

The chains made a slightly squeaky noise when they swung back and forth, but besides that, it felt fine. The wind flowing over your hair and the sun shining in your face as you swung toward it made you smile wide.

Then something pushed you from behind. At the apex of your swing, when you were closest to the Sun, a solid force slammed into your back. Your body left the seat of the swing. Momentum carried you forward, toward the light in the sky. Yet your Icarian flight was fated to fail. In one swift motion your body fell to the ground. Rocks scratched your face and arms. Sand sullied your shirt and pants.

Something snickered behind you. Two ponies stood there, one with her hoof still held in the air. The pain on your hands caused you to cry.

“What kind of monster are you?”

Her voice melded with memory. It was a beautiful day outside. Birdsong floated over the flowers.

“You’re not a pony, and you’re not any monster I’ve seen before. So, what are you, anyway?”

“I heard it can’t even read,” said the pony beside her.

“Can you talk? I know you can. Don’t tell me you can’t.”

“It’s too busy crying.”

“Here I thought we’d get to meet an awesome monster. Looks like we’ve only found a crybaby instead.”

The first pony, the one who pushed you, walked around the swing. I wonder how long it would take to choke the breath out of her neck. She took a step back.

“W-why are you smiling like that?”

I stood up. “Do you still want to see a monster?” I asked her.

Even ponies can feel such an aura of killing intent, it seems. She was nearly speechless.

“Uh, I...”

“Well that’s too bad.” I closed my eyes. “Because there aren’t any monsters left.” I laughed.

Her friend piped up: “That’s not true! Everyone’s seen a dragon at least. He lives in that tree!” She pointed to an old hollowed-out oak. It had been fitted with windows and a door, along with several other of the accoutrements of a home.

“A dragon? That’s quite special.” I smiled wider. “Is it dangerous?”

“Of course not.” She appeared perturbed by that question. “Spike is harmless.”

“Then is it really a ‘monster’?”

She gritted her teeth. “Well, maybe not! But you ask weird questions and have a creepy face!”

I stared at her. “No, the only monst—”

“Hey! Quit picking on the new kid!”

“Ya! Get lost!”

“Are you guys sure that this is a good idea?”

A trio of ponies came bounding in, shouting at these two. One lagged behind a bit.

“Great. It looks like the loser patrol is here to protect one of their own.”

I laughed. “That’s a good one. You should do stand-up comedy at the local night club.”

“Quit laughing like that. I’m making fun of you, you freak.”

The ponies arrived. They stood between me and her. The five ponies glared at one another.

“I was getting bored anyway. Come on, Silver. Let’s go play somewhere else. This side of the park is filled with weirdos.”

They left us. The three new ponies turned around.

"Howdy! We're the—" the red-headed one started. She stopped when she saw my eyes.