Forgotten History

Foreign Tongue

Wingdings and Sans rode into town on their Blasters, scaring some of the monsters in the streets in the process. "Oops." The Skeletons slipped off and dismissed their companions. "for the record, i totally won that race." Sans mused, pulling out the Tine's medallion from his shirt. The gift Wingdings gave him for his birthday. Apparently it had been found amongst the wreckage. It was safe to say Sans father was no more. "What I recall is that my Blaster won by a muzzle." Wingdings scoffed lightheartly as he went to reassure the monsters that they were no threat and who they were looking for. "You are looking for the King? You are in luck, sir, he just came in the other day. We have him set up an the town hall." Sans followed common pretty well now. Speaking it though was something else entirely. "Could you take us there? Our business with him is rather urgent." The monster shifted uneasily. "pease?" Sans asked, giving her large, hopeful eyelights. With his small stature and lack of proper pronunciation he was easily mistaken as a child younger than he actually was. She gave in. "Very well... this way."

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The town hall was nothing fancy, but the guards posted at the front door was more than what they needed to know that they finally found the king. "Could one of you kind guards please inform the king that he has visitors with urgent news?" The monster lady requested. One guard slipped inside while the other turned to the Skeletons. "What sort of urgent news?" Sans translated since the guard was wearing a helmet. Wingdings stepped up easily. "The an entire species has been reduced to few survivors kind." Sans gripped the medallion, pressing closer to Wingdings who in turn placed a hand on his head. "will i have to speak with the king? my common still isn't.."
"I know, I know. No. You shouldn't have to. One account should be good enough." Wingdings reassured the teen. "I spoke with the King." The other guard had finally come out. "He will see you now. Come in." The doors were opened for the Skeletons and they entered the wooden building. Purple rug lined the floor as they entered the otherwise empty space. At the end was a raised platform with a simple chair. Sitting on the chair was a tall and proud goat who was waiting.

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King Relegore was a rough looking goat who had seen more than his fair share of battles recently. His white fur was ruffled and dirty, his graying blonde hair and beard was in a similar state. Fresh scars ran across the right side of his muzzle, the eye permanently blind. "I've heard stories of your kind." Relegore's voice was deep and grovelly. "My father would speak of the Skeletons who were thrown out by our society by my grandparents and survived despite that. Yet here you now stand before me with urgent news. Tell me Skeletons, what fate has befallen your kind?" Wingdings tapped Sans, making a few gestures for him to follow his lead. Wingdings and Sans both bowed to his majesty, Wingdings speaking up after the did. "Mass genocide, sire. Other than this child and myself, we believe that there are few survivors. I fear the same fate will befall monsterkind as well. This is a warning. The humans are coming and they will not stop anytime soon." King Relegore nodded slowly. "My condolences, Skeletons. I'm sure you are in need of food and shelter. Please stay as long as you need."

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"so he didn't need any statements. he believed us just like that?" Wingdings shook his head. "He knows a Skeleton wouldn't leave Allhalla without good reason and he's correct. Aside from myself, our kind had stuck to their own for centuries." Sans stared up at Wingdings. "which reminds me, are we going to go find your mate then?" Wingdings rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. He'd been trying to avoid this... "Correction, I am going to find my mate. You will be staying here with the King." Sans stopped, shaking his head vehemently. "what?! why not!? i can travel!" Wingdings crouched and put his hands on Sans arms. "Now stop that Sans. You are a grown Skeleton now and it's dangerous for you to travel with me. You could get sick easier and-
"and you could fix me like you did before!" Wingdings shook his head. "You cannot depend on me. I won't always be here. You will be safe here until I return." Sans faltered, tears streaking down his cheeks. "seema... what about my common..?" Wingdings chuckled quietly, brushing away his tears. "No better way to learn then by those who speak it."

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Wingdings left that night, leaving Sans alone with King Relegore. "Your father told me of your predicament, young one. I'll be more than happy to teach you common myself." The King offered. Sans didn't respond as he stared pleadingly at the door, hoping to anything that Wingdings would walk through any moment and take him with. Relegore sighed. "You know, I have a son around your age who is in much the same position as you right now. I had to leave him behind in another town, far from the reaches of war." Sans looked at Relegore. "I thought that would catch your attention. His name is Asgore. He is currently twelve. A bit older than you, I suspect." Sans shook his head. "n-no. li'ler." Relegore looked confused. "Littler?" Sans nodded. "i, uh, i fif... fi..." He puffed out his cheeks as he tried to remember the number. Finally he held out his hands. A one and a five. "i fifeen." It took Relegore a moment to finally realize what Sans was trying to say. "You're fifteen?! My, much older than I thought! Apologies!" Sans shrugged. "li'le sick lot." Oh boy, Relegore had his work cut out for him.