The Mountain East (An Undertale Fanfiction)

Prologue

At the crossroads stood a single person. The western path a paved, orderly stone passage, welcoming and encouraging all travelers to follow in its lead. A large, bustling metropolitan area of sorts could be seen just over the horizon, the populace going about their business, confined by a false security that is their sense of safety. Caravans and wagons filled to the brim with luscious produce and fresh fruit made their way down the stone path, their merchants eager to trade goods for money. There were the rich, who no longer bothered with the concept of money – instead, an overwhelming thirst for power fueled their bodies, supposed justice in their left hand, and finance in their right. They no longer pursued an endless stream of gold and riches, instead they played a harder, riskier game of complete and total control.

The onlooker gazed upon the city in utter disgust. She was dressed in a simple striped woolen sweater with a simple alternating color palette of green and white. Her physique was slim and skin bruised, limbs screaming malnutrition and uncut hair that was messily combed back. In her small form, she looked no older than 8 or 9, but her hardened expression gave off a much, much older aura.

Slung across her right shoulder was a tattered, leather backpack. The girl showed great sentimental value to it, clutching the bag with her shivering right hand for comfort.

And, with a great sigh of relief and anxiety, she began her way down the road. However, this time, unlike many before her, she took the path less travelled. A long, winding, and misshapen road overgrown with plants and filled with mother nature's glorious creations. The Eastern road, as many town folks called it, had existed for centuries, but has seen limited use. The only destination one would reach whilst travelling on it was the appropriately named Eastern mountain, though many children started calling it Mount Ebott for no apparent reason.

As she trekked down the road, memories of her old life flashed across her mind. She remembered when her parents cared about her, instead of the labor she input. "They'll be mourning for sure." She muttered under her breath. "For the loss of a worker, not a loss of a daughter. It's all they ever cared about. It's all they ever will care about. Was money all I was worth? My purpose to reap rewards, a tool for others to step on my back and gain ever so slightly higher?"

A single tear fell down her face, landing gently on an overgrown leaf, before trickling down to meet soil. The first of many. "You would beat and starve your own child for years on end?" She stopped walking and crumpled down, disappearing into the thick foliage around her. Her voice, once growing louder, now fell to a whisper so deadly and quiet. "Was - was that all I was worth?"

But nobody came.

Slowly, she stood up. Her eyes were trained on the majestic mountain right before her. She dusted herself off, grabbed her backpack and continued to her last destination.

In the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a metal plaque. Inching closer to the copper plate revealed etchings and writings on the surface, and despite being corroded and left in nature's care for god knows how long, it was still somewhat legible.

"Those who travel to Mountain East,  Legacy forgotten, life deceased. Within the caverns lie the dead, A sin the living can never forget. At tridents point, six shall fall, Seventh's redemption an angel's call. Lord of darkness, bringer of light, To act out mercy or purge and fight."

The narrator fell silent. This was not her first encounter with this prophecy-like rhyme. Memories of old, musty, paperback books – an antique, furnished rocking chair – a hearth where her parents read stories to her by the silver moonlight. The very embodiment of what she once took for granted. The very embodiment of how man could so easily be corrupted. The very embodiment of why she was standing here, reaching out for death's scythe begging for mercy.

She screamed in agony, a piercing, deafening screech that echoed across the miles of wilderness around her. With a single stomp, she split the weak and corroded metal plate in half, vowing silently to never speak of the tale ever again. Not like she was going to have to keep the promise for long anyway.

"I've come too far to back out now," she pondered. "My death is the greatest defiance and noblest action I have ever done."

The hike upwards was peculiarly silent. The higher she went, the less she could hear the song of the wilderness. Blooming flowers and tall evergreens had been replaced with mud and rock. It did not make scaling the mountain an easier task.

The crescent moon began its journey through the night sky, replacing the warmth of the golden sun with a dim, cold glow. The stars, despite her altitude, looked ever so far away. A speck of dust in the black curtain.

At the peak of the mountain, there was no greenery save for several vines that had seemingly grown out of the ground. The wasteland plateau, however, was not the destination she had set off for. It was the gaping, jagged hole in the center of it all.

Setting down her backpack on the smoothest rock she could find, she knelt and peered over the edge of the vast crater. No light escaped the singularity that is the hole. A void devoid of life, though soon it would have one more corpse to decorate the non-existent floor.

The girl sighed. She knew what had to be done, for her own sake, lest her current state worsen. "Suicide is a display of cowardice," her tutors had told her. No. It was an act of bravery. It showed how far one would go to send a message. It showed that an individual could defy society. It showed determination.

Retreating backwards to her backpack, she produced a set of clothing, neatly folded and several pieces of stolen bread. With her extra striped clothes in the right hand and her last supper in the right, she approached the mouth of the crevice, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"Relax. I – It's just like falling asleep."

Simultaneously, she dropped the clothing and bread into the void. Offerings, one could say. She preferred not to say much of it.

She turned around and bid farewell to her only inanimate friend. It fell to the ground in defeat, and the vines surrounding the backpack were quick to envelope it.

For the last time, her eyes bored down the void. It stared back menacingly.

"H - Here goes nothing."

A last heartbeat.

"A - Absolutely..."

A last breath.

"N - Nothing at all."

Freefall.