The Mountain East (An Undertale Fanfiction)

Chapter 56

The fruits dangled tantalizingly over a canopy. Not exactly revelatory. They had been doing so for the past uncountable years, and yet not once were they ever tasted in flesh, never once were they ever drank from in a chalice of their own tears. Their ripeness never seemed to siphon away by time, a delicate balance between the rotten breath of seniority and the distasteful sourness of infancy forever suspended by the cables of twigs and branches.

They held no inner meaning, nor spanning metaphor. It symbolized not love as mistletoe did– not remembrance as the poppy did – neither was it edible, either by consumption or by a sudden uncalled for giving, usually associated with romance.

Crows and various seldom left its clutches. For with every drop of crimson fruit, every explosion of orange juice – there is the darkness of time, presiding over the territory, eventually.

But in its romanticized nothingness, meaningless somethingness, it might as well be a flag. A worn one, sure. The edges would have tasted the curling wrath and orange angry convulsions of fire – the top subjugated to an ashen layer of soot – the patterns stitched resembling less a rune or a king's jewel, and more of contemporary graffiti.

And yet, despite the scars, because of the scars, it was made memorable all the same. Not through the beauty of capture, nor the rapturous taste of multicolour canvas. Context mitigated for mediocrity. Adequacy mitigated by meaning.

It would take a certain shade of stupidity to call it love at first sight. Beauticians and critics would not take it kindly. But to be critical in such a critical moment understood by almost none, hidden from view to all but one, moving in a single manner, like a royal cacophony, crown and tiara and ruby and diamond – it would be arrogant to know and still call it comparable to a crow's misfortune.

And thought it remained only ceremonial, beneath the feathers of nature, under the wing of a regal memory, a pair of horns slipped into a crown flawlessly.

The vines twisted and twirled, all the while they remained stationary – green unfurling, in which it immediately got involved in a feudal feud with red and her many allies. Gold opted to stay silent – silver a crafty spokesperson.

But the crown brought much more than just a plethora of warring factions spread across the canvas. People seem to forget that sight has multiple definitions – and lack of sight has more.

Give a crown to a man, and he will rule. But the world 'rule' has been so sparsely defined across the centuries, so controversial in even history's indifference and journalistic democracy (in which, of course, only the winning side's journalists were allowed to vote), an inert dead horse dating back to the wooden ages of Troy. Tyranny is often mistaken as ruling – but the king often plays the role of a warden, with a constant fear of liberty.

But tyrants only know how to conquer with strength, not how to rule with heart. Kings know how to rule with strength and conquer the heart.

So as King Asgore took his rightful place again beneath a majestic symbol, beneath a somewhat plebian representation in décor - there were no objections.

Chara smiled; her left shoulder closely knit to Asriel's - the two standing not far away from the private re-coronation. Like said before, it was only customary. A declaration from the release of a stubborn custody. A hijacking of mind rationalized by the involvement of memory. Not too dissimilar to family gathering on audience, though the formality had admittedly reached a peak.

But when Toriel presented her husband the fallen weapon, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. In an act of complete certainty, he surrendered the trident that had been tied to his name for so long. For the red upon it no longer held a uniform shade. Despite everything, despite its namesake and popular belief – the trident was used more as a threat than a weapon. And now, with crimson dotting its prongs, it had assured the mutual destruction of both parties. Death that day nearly took a life and two souls.