“Rawr!” A tiny Saurian let out a playful growl, nuzzling Frisk’s leg.
Frisk chuckled and reached down, gently patting the little creature on the head.
Its scales were warm beneath their hand, a comforting reminder of the life that had been saved amidst all the chaos.
At the edge of the stadium, Mavuika and Kachina sat side by side, their figures outlined by the golden light of the setting sun.
Frisk joined them, the three sitting quietly, watching the remnants of the battlefield below now transformed into a place bustling with life and joy.
The sacred flame burned bright again, no longer a weapon but a symbol of hope.
Frisk exhaled slowly, feeling the weight they had carried for so long begin to lift.
The memories of the past—their fears, failures, and losses—finally began to unravel, dissolving like ash on the wind.
The war was over. It was time to let go.
“I think… I’m ready,” Frisk murmured, gazing out at the horizon.
“To stop holding on to everything. To just… move forward.”
Kachina smiled warmly.
“You’ve done it,” she said softly.
“That’s what the Pilgrimage is all about.”
Frisk blinked in surprise.
Their first Pilgrimage… they had won.
Not through battle or victory over others, but by making peace with themselves and finding the courage to keep moving forward.
“Congratulations,” Kachina added, her expression filled with pride.
“You finally made it.”
Mavuika glanced at Frisk, her dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
“You’ve proven yourself, Frisk. You are more than your soul—you are Natlan’s future.”
She stood, brushing the dust from her robes. “Now, go join the others. There’s a celebration waiting for you.”
Frisk descended the stadium stairs to find the party already in full swing.
Mualani and Kinich sat together at one of the tables, Mualani giggling as she leaned her head lazily on Kinich’s shoulder.
His usual serious expression softened as he rested his arm lightly around her.
They looked so at peace—like two people who had faced death together and come out the other side stronger.
“Frisk!” Mualani waved, beaming.
“Come join us! There’s food, drinks—everything!”
Frisk slid into a seat at the table, where plates piled high with fruit, grilled meats, and pastries sat waiting.
They laughed and chatted with Mualani and Kinich, the sounds of celebration echoing all around.
The air was filled with music—lively drums, flutes, and voices singing traditional Natlan songs of triumph.
Warriors from all the tribes mingled freely, toasting to victory, to life, and to new beginnings.
And as if to underline the joy that now filled Natlan, preparations for the grand welcome of the underground monsters were already underway.
The people of Natlan moved with renewed purpose, decorating the stadium walls with vibrant banners and garlands of flowers.
There was no bitterness or fear—only excitement for what was to come.
After spending some time at the party, Frisk wandered the stadium grounds, taking in the sights of the ongoing preparations.
Everywhere they looked, life flourished.
Even the warriors who had fought so fiercely in the battle smiled and laughed, their burdens lifted.
Frisk and Kachina eventually made their way back to their tribe.
The Children of Echoes were hard at work, decorating their homes and pathways with intricate carvings and colorful banners to greet their new guests.
Jewelry made from shimmering stones lay scattered across crafting tables, catching the warm sunlight like drops of molten gold.
“Frisk! Kachina!” Xilonen greeted them with a grin as they approached.
She was hunched over her crafting table, surrounded by tools and supplies.
Beautiful gemstones and polished metals littered the surface, along with fragments of vibrant cloth and thread.
Xilonen lifted a large, half-finished banner she had been working on—a radiant image of unity between the tribes and the underground monsters.
“What do you think?” she asked, holding it up with pride.
“I want them to feel welcome the moment they arrive.”
“It’s amazing, Xilonen.”
Frisk said, admiring the intricate stitching.
Xilonen beamed.
“I’m glad! I’ve been working on it since… well, since before everything.”
She paused, her smile softening.
“Feels good to create something again, you know?”
Frisk nodded.
They understood exactly what she meant. After everything they had fought for, it was time to build again—to create, to welcome, to celebrate life.
With just two days left before the arrival of the monsters, the atmosphere in Natlan was electric.
Everyone moved with a sense of purpose, eager to make the welcome celebration as grand as possible.
Banners were raised high, music filled the air, and the aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the streets.
Kachina turned to Frisk, a mischievous smile spreading across her face.
Without warning, she grabbed their hand. “Come on! There’s still so much to do—let’s help everyone get ready!”
Frisk laughed, feeling the last remnants of their old burdens dissolve into the wind. Kachina’s joy was infectious, and for the first time in a long while, Frisk felt truly lighthearted.
Together, they joined the others, lending a hand wherever it was needed—hanging decorations, arranging food, and welcoming each new person who arrived.
Frisk found themselves surrounded by laughter, music, and warmth.
The past was behind them, and the future stretched out ahead, bright and full of possibilities.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in soft shades of orange and gold, Frisk paused to take it all in.
The war was over, the tribes were united, and in just two days, the monsters from the underground would finally join them.
Frisk looked around at their friends—Mualani, Kinich, Xilonen, Ororon, and Kachina—and felt a swell of gratitude.
They had all survived.
They had all grown.
And now, they were standing at the dawn of a new era, ready to embrace whatever the future would bring.
Kachina nudged them gently.
“Ready, Frisk?”
Frisk smiled, their red soul glowing faintly in their chest.
“Yeah. Let’s welcome our new friends.”
And with that, they plunged back into the joyful chaos of preparations—ready to build a new Natlan, together.
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𝙉𝙮𝙭𝙚𝙧𝙖 ✧
Fanfiction"Nyxera... that's your ancient name, Frisk." ✧ [Natlan × Undertale]
