The Silver Soul

30

My trembling hands fly to my throat when the world snaps into focus, and I sag in relief when I find my clammy skin smooth and unbroken. A quick glance had me sighing in reprieve, as no blood was found on my body, and the wound in my side merely a ghosting pain. Just a dream. Just an awful, awful, hellish, nightmarish dream. My magic kicks in a second later, blanketing me with a comforting warmth, almost as if I was sitting by a roaring fireplace.

The dull colours slowly separate from a swirl and clarity returns to my vision. I'm back in my old bedroom at Toriel's, the one before he came to the Underground. Everything looks eerily undisturbed, though not a speck of dust mar any of the surfaces. It's almost as if it's frozen in time.

A choked sob escapes me, and I clap a hand to my mouth to muffle the pathetic sound. The tears start to stream down my face, thick and fast, blurring my vision once again. I curl up on the warm blankets and weep, my body convulsing with the sobs escaping from my curled-up form.

I don't hear the footsteps grow louder, but I feel the hand of sympathy rub my back in soothing circles, offering warm comfort. We stay like this until the sobbing halts, until the tears run out, and I'm left hiccupping and quaking.

"Hush, child. It is alright."

That isn't Toriel. Or anyone I know.

My instinct immediately kick in as I summon my sword, feeling its hilt form in my hand. I swing it blindly and clumsily, taking great, shuddering breaths to calm myself. Control. I am in control.

Magic that I don't recognise clashes with my own, keeping me from landing any hits, holding me back. Warm fingers clasp the blade and keep it from moving any more. I struggle, panicking even more. "Wh-who are you?" I manage to choke out. Their magic tries to come closer, and I instinctively throw up a shield between us.

The voice reaches me through my frenzied haze of terror. "Calm down, child. It is me, Gaster." Gaster. Thank Annoying Dog.

Wait, what?

Blinking, my jaw nearly drops as I survey the person in front of me. This isn't the strange, half-melted monster I've come to know. This is an entirely new person.

It's easier to tell what species he is now. Strangely, he doesn't look anything like Sans or Papyrus, though he's almost as tall as the latter. He's slightly intimidating too, wearing black head-to-toe and sporting wicked gashes on his face.

"I cannot help you if you do not let your defences down," he murmurs. Cautiously, slowly, I let the wall down, magic still flickering around my fingers weakly. I realise how hungry I am, and I almost start to salivate when I think of Toriel's butterscotch-cinnamon pie.

But first, priorities. "What's going on? And how long was I out for?"

Gaster frowns. "For your second question, you were out for a day. I found you in the Ruins this morning." Only a day? It had felt so much longer. Gaster looks concerned as he takes me in. "Several times, I found you thrashing about and saying rather concerning things," he says. I laugh a little, subconsciously fiddling with the corner of the sheet.

"And for my first question? Because I am fairly sure I just had a dream."

"Well, this is strange. I certainly haven't heard of this happening before. Child, are you sure it was a dream?"

My memories flicker back to the dust and the blood. "Positive."

"Interesting. Your brain activity must've been exceptionally high for this to occur. Do you know how long you were dreaming for?"