wintersoldier
Snowdrops
LG
Lord Zee
Timemaster
Damycles
Izurich
Villamvihar
FunnierPrezRetracing in Ashes
Primrose’s @Yankee, Ganondorf’s @Double, Bowser and Kamek’s @DracoLunaris, Ms Fortune
Word Count: 4913 (+5)
As the group was preparing to split up, again, the previous split rejoined them. Riding across the dunes on beetle back came the troop, kicking up sand as they galloped over the seekers the rest have just traipsed over. Just above them flew Jr’s latest addition to his poke-team, the primal pokemon known as Flutter Mane to explorers of area zero, and as Peeka to the prince.
They slowed a bit as they approached, the trio of royals calling out greetings while a rather pooped looking Kamek only managed a little wave. Drained of mana from maintaining the 4 steeds all the way through their journey, the Mage dismissed them as soon as they caught up and then proceed to support himself using his broom as he said, tiredly, but with more than a hint of pride; ”and here we are, just as I said we would be”
”We miss anything?” Jr asked as his new spirit hovered around above everyone’s heads, getting a good look at them all, before adding ”You about to go see that old goat guy?”
”Some of us," Therion replied. "I for one can't wait to get topside. I'm gonna go on ahead, find the station."
”I for one could use a break, so if we could stop by the tree, I shall takes seat and try and absorb what information I can” Kamek said in response to this news, prompting the rest of the troop to say they’d come along as well.
”That reminds me,” Ganondorf brought up now that the Troop had returned, ”I believe it would be wise if we create for us a quick way to return to the flame clock in Holograd, as we may need to return to it in the future. But that can wait for now.”
Therion's arms were crossed beneath his poncho and his tail swished back and forth. He had spent most of the trek to the lake in feline form for easier traversal, but now he was back to being human. He was looking forward to leaving the Under behind like he'd said, but he also knew a deluge of water awaited in the city below - which he wasn't looking forward to. Rather than stick with the group he figured he'd get through it as fast as possible and wait somewhere secluded in a hopefully more dry train station. If his friend had been planning to see this mysterious king alone he would have reconsidered splitting, but at least one person had already mentioned sticking around up here. Primrose and Ms. Fortune could definitely handle themselves, so Therion was less inclined to say. Plus he was hardly interested in whatever revelation the king was cooking up - if it was something so important that it would directly impact the team, then they'd all hear about it later.
The thief didn't spend much more time there, moseying toward the pipe that Primrose had indicated earlier. The dancer herself gave him and anyone leaving with him a casual wave before turning back to the rest.
As tempting as it was to follow the thief’s lead, Ganondorf had already resolved to at least hear what this other king had to say before he returned to the surface. Or at the very least get Jr to create one of his warp paintings at Castle Holograd. Only after these things would he finally be satisfied enough to leave the Under.
The path that Primrose retraced was rougher than last time, but they'd all made it in one piece. She felt a little anxious, but it wasn't about to stop her from getting answers.
"Shall we?" she said.
”Yes.” Ganondorf responded, while the Troop mostly nodded in agreement
As the Seekers approached the tree, the sand underfoot changed. It became softer, darker, and colorless, not minuscule grains of silica but powdery flecks of carbon, piled higher and higher. Ascending the dune from which the ancient trunk protruded, the inquirers couldn’t help but kick the stuff into the air with every step, and as it settled on their clothes and skin a mild scent of acrid smoke suffused them. Nadia’s sense of smell might not be much better than the average human’s, but it didn’t take a bloodhound to tell what she was trudging through. “It’s ash,” she murmured, craning her neck upward. This tree, though unimaginably colossal in its own right, had clearly been burned at some point. Its charred, ruined upper reaches fell well short of Ash Lake’s cavernous ceiling, while the other archtrees penetrated through the roof. But Nadia still felt unsettled, unable to put aside the dread that gnawed at her. In this world, there were more ways to get ash than burning wood.
Still the Seekers pushed forward, approaching the crack in the trunk’s exterior through which they could enter. When they finally crested the sooty hill, they found the periphery of the great tree overgrown with small, low-lying bushes. Despite the poor soil, the prickly dark green tangles seemed to be thriving, with abundant yellow flowers in full bloom. The opening in the hollow, much taller than it was wide, still offered sufficient width for the visitors to enter two breast. Within, a bed of ash formed a shallow basin, almost completely blanketed by the flowering gorse plants. Around the center stood seven simple, cylindrical altars in hexagonal pattern, each laden with an instrument of destruction so masterfully made and visually impressive that they could all be legendary weapons in their own right: a fanged daylight greatsword, a lance of purefying light, an insectoid longbow that gleamed like emerald, a decorated staff of enlightenment, a greataxe hewn from stone dragonscale, a massive, overgrown shield of solid gold, and a thunder-crackling hammer. On the far side of the hollow, the ashes rose into a sharp incline, hundreds of feet tall and impossible steep. Atop this pale mountain stood a lonely throne, turned away from the hollow’s entrance and toward a gigantic hole in the back wall, looking out across the still, dark waters of Ash Lake. The sight left Nadia with a vague sense of awe.
In the very center of the imposing scene, dramatically positioned in its natural focal point, sat the exiled king. He looked tall and quite broad-shouldered, if his huge pauldrons were any indication, but a dark cloak, covered in the wear and tear of battle, shrouded his whole body. Only his head could be seen, his goatish, white-furred visage wreathed in shaggy hair and crowned with hooked horns. The former king of monsters sat with meditative stillness, his eyes closed as his chest slowly rose and fell.
The scene looked quite the same as the last time the Seekers had been there. Primrose didn't comment on the weapons or the ash. She had already come to the conclusion that they were the remnants of people that had come to challenge the monster king, but she didn't necessarily want to put her companions any more on guard. It was for the same reason that she didn't bring up the clock nearby - given that Asgore was alive and idle, she didn't think it likely that F had shown up here for it. They weren't looking for a fight.
Bowser did however mention the clock, but only to comment that it was a ”tough nut to crack that thing. Smashed it right out of the tree giant style, and not a scratch on it”
Ganondorf’s eyes narrowed slightly. So there was a clock here as well? Interesting. Something he’d have to remember for the future.
Primrose stepped forward, eyeing the hole in the wall for a moment before she called out to the king. "Asgore?"
His eyes opened immediately, betraying no startlement. Nadia wondered if the old king had really been in some sort of meditative trance, or just happened to be sitting there with his eyes closed, unable to be at peace. Though his white fur somewhat disguised the creases etched into his face and the sunkenness of his eyes, he looked terribly tired. Primrose mentioned that he’d been press-ganged into unwilling service for the Consuls for a long time, and looking at the old goat now, Nadia could definitely believe it. She already felt bad for disturbing him, her uneasiness not helped by the location’s pronounced intimidation factor.
It took a second longer than it should have for him to reply with a weak smile. “You’re back. I was hoping I’d see you again.” His gaze slowly turned to Nadia. “Brought a new friend, eh? Or maybe an old friend, just new to me. If you made it back, does that mean y’all did what you came for…?”
”It is done, and as a bonus so too is the infestation” Kamek confirmed before saying ”Now if you don’t mind, I shall be taking a seat as well” before doing just that, plopping down onto the ground to rest his old bones.
Finally, with noticeable reluctance, the king’s eyes settled on Ganondorf. They hold no warmth whatsoever. His expression held notes of annoyance and resignation, but more than anything else, Asgore stared at the warlord with disappointment. He sighed, his head drooping down. “You again.”
The warlord in question held no particular expression either. Not that it would be seen behind the shadow of his open helmet, ”...Pardon?” he finally asked after a long pause, ”Tis true that my reputation doth precede me. But I hath no recollection of meeting thee.” Although Ganondorf did have to admit that Asgore looked an awful lot like a certain other person that he had met. But surely that didn’t mean anything, or so he thought.
“Well, you wouldn’t. I s’pose I oughta make sure.” Asgore’s right hand pushed through his draped mantle, and as he held it up he turned it so that the back of his closed fist faced the newcomers. His eyes were hard, his focus unwavering. “The Triforce. Show it to me.”
Ganondorf allowed himself to smile a bit behind the shade of his helmet. Silently he held up his fist and revealed the glowing triangle that branded the back of it. Even in spite of the spirits he had acquired, the Triforce had remained unchanged. Finally, after a seemingly eternal pause he spoke. ”Pray, tell.” he said, ”What crime hath I done to thee, a King I hath never even heard of until this day?”
Nadia swallowed nervously, her gaze flickering between the two royals. What should have been a peaceable, even amicable encounter had taken an unexpected and very bad turn. She hadn’t considered the possibility of beef between Asgore and one of their own, though at the same time, the old goat’s hostility came across as confusing -bordering on unreasonable- given Ganondorf’s testimony, provided he wasn’t lying. “The heck’s going on?” she muttered.
Of course, Asgore didn’t hear her. His focus lay on Ganondorf, and despite the warlord’s changes the golden sigil on his hand told him everything he needed to know. “I am no king,” Asgore rumbled. The hint of down-to-earth friendliness he’d displayed earlier had evaporated completely. “Unlike you. Are you not the King of Evil? Born to kill. To conquer, to destroy, to…antagonize. Maybe ‘you’ have yet to slaughter innocents and topple nations…”
His eyes shifted downward to the twin greatswords sheathed at Ganondorf’s hip, their elaborate bronze crossguards unmistakable. “But it’s only a matter of time. I see you failed to heed my warning.” His armor clanked softly as he rose from the ground, reciting familiar words. “Here lie the ashes of the evil king who brought doom to this once-great city. Let these blades stand as a reminder that those who walk the path of evil will always be brought to justice.” At his full height, and quietly menacing, Asgore made for a daunting sight. “A bad seed will always be just that. Whenever it grows a weed in my garden, the only thing to do is pull it out.”
The Gerudo remained completely unfazed as he lowered his fist. He was not going to be intimidated, ”Aye, ‘tis true. he confirmed, ”But thou still hast not named any actual crime that I hath committed against thee.” he added, not allowing himself to show any anger or even malice at that time.
He kept his tone even. He'd been in royal courts enough times to know how to properly conduct himself. And he knew that right now, he needed to show that he was not the aggressor here. ”My quarrel is not with you nor yours.” Ganondorf said flatly, ”I come to thee only to learn more about my real enemies. Nothing more and nothing less. If there is to be war here, then it shall be you who ignites the flame, not I.”
“Yeah, hang on, let’s not fight just yet, please?” Nadia held up her hands placatingly, though she’d also taken a couple steps away from Ganondorf just in case. “We just came to ask you about something. Something you didn’t tell Primrose last time, right?”
Asgore frowned at her, clearly not pleased with her alliance with Ganondorf, but he had yet to make a move.
Being surprised at the animosity, Primrose had kept quiet and just watched. Out of all the "villains" composing their group, she trusted Ganondorf the least. However, what the dark lord said about 'real enemies' rang true. He hadn't betrayed the Seekers this entire time, clearly willing to work with whoever necessary to get to the target of his ire - this being Galeem. She didn't forget that he'd been imprisoned when he was found though, and his earlier comment about staking his claim in Gerudo Town didn't exactly sit right with Primrose no matter how destined it was for him. All in all it made Ganondorf a complicated ally, but for now an ally all the same. And besides, if he was really so dangerous then why had Asgore seen fit to imprison him, rather than add his ashes to the collection here?
Primrose took a deep breath after Ms. Fortune's words and stepped forward even more. Though it seemed Asgore's issue was with Ganondorf only, she splayed her own hands open peaceably as well.
"She's right. You promised to tell us what you knew about the true state of this world. As Kamek said, we've defeated that source of the Infection, the monster the Consuls were protecting inside the temple, and claimed its spirit. One of those Consuls, P, has also met his end by our hand." She didn't mention F, frustrated as they all were by his latest escape. "So it is done. Did you not feel it when the Guardian died?"
After a moment, Asgore allowed Primrose’s news to distract him. “You’ve done good. Just as I hoped. And I do mean to make good on my word. Had this whole little set-up going to ease you folks into it.” He scowled at Ganondorf. “But with him here, that ship has sailed. I’ll still tell you, of course. But the lesson plan’s a little different.” He extended an accusatory finger. “What crimes, you ask? Well for starters, where’s my wife? Where’s Toriel? Whenever I wander the Under, I make sure to check in on her. But when I went yesterday, I found ashes and broken shackles.”
Asgore hung his head in sorrow. “I should have killed you when I had the chance. But violence is a vicious cycle, and I wanted to end it. Figured that if I spared you, maybe things would turn out different this time.” The old king laughed mirthlessly. “All these years, and I’m still the same old fool.” He lifted his head, his expression woeful. “There’s no escaping what we are.”
Slowly, he looked between his various visitors. “So you want to know, huh? Well, I hope you’re ready.” Asgore nodded at Ganondorf. “I know he’ll do bad things ‘cause he did bad things, and he only stopped ‘cause I’m the one who stopped him.” He stared at the warlord, his gaze cold. “Our battle in Holograd. You fought something fierce. But by then, my Level of Violence was way too high.” His eyes drifted toward the holy lance, Gae Assail. “I cut you down, and I left your swords as a reminder that evil will always receive its just reward. And yet, here you are.” He chuckled. “Tell me something, folks. You ever dream…of dying, horribly?”
Something about the way he said it sent a chill down Nadia’s spine, making the hairs on her neck rise. She breathed in sharply, still as a statue.
“When you go to sleep,” Asgore continued. “How d’you know you’re the same person as when you wake up?” He shrugged. “Memories, right? And if you didn’t remember, wouldn’t every day be your first?” Once again he paused, clearly having some trouble finding the right words. “Do you all think you’re the first? The original? The bonafide one-and-only you? Well…what about those awful dreams, of losing lives you never lived?” His voice grew quiet. “What if I told you they were all completely true?”
He stared at the Seekers of Light. “Well, I hate to break it to you. You’re not the originals. Not even close. Those dreams, they aren’t just your imagination. They’re little traces of your past lives. Bugs in the system. We live, die, and live again. Over decades. Centuries. Countless lives, recycled over and over again, for ever. And ever.”
Asgore took a deep breath. “That’s why our timeframes don’t line up. That’s the World of Light. A wheel spinning in place for perpetuity, stuck fast between past and future. The Endless Now.”
”You, uh, you sure those aren't just other versions of us from other words? Because I’ve already punched another me in the face this week for being a dumb jerk. And a Guardian” Bowser asked, before also pointing out ”also it can't have been that long, because of Kirby. Galeem pulled a cheap shot on us, the lil guy got away, and then he showed up here a week ago. And he’s a hungry lil guy so he can’t have been traveling that long”
Though Asgore didn’t know what Bowser meant by ‘other versions’, he said nothing. He had no interest in arguing. The others’ acceptance hadn’t been part of the bargain; only the truth.
While Bowser questioned Asgore, Primrose had gone quiet again. Well, wasn't this a mess? So Ganondorf had killed the old king's wife, and in his anger Asgore had dropped his information on them all at once like a bomb. Primrose wasn't sure if easing into something like that would have made it any easier to take though. It was the truth as Asgore knew it though, and the dancer stood, statuesque with drawn brows and a hard expression, as she parsed the information. Dreams... she hadn't had any like that, but Therion had confessed to her just this morning that he had. The archangel Robin Goodfellow's rambling, the regret that Confessor Jiji conjured, even the words of the Organization member that had helped them seemed to fit the picture Asgore painted. Even so, Primrose hoped it wasn't really true.
By now, Ganondorf was scowling beneath the shadow of his helmet. Who did this whimpering excuse for a goat-man think he was? Spouting off absolute nonsense about dreams being memories of past lives, and somehow using that as his justification for imprisoning him? And oh yes, it seemed that this Asgore had been the one who personally shackled Ganondorf to that black egg. The warlord’s fists both became clenched and trembled with rage.
”You…” he said in a low, bestial tone. He marched right up to Asgore and fixed his malicious and hateful gaze squarely on him. But he still did not draw any weapons. At least… not yet. ”Thou art the one, who shackled me?” he demanded, his tone remaining low and full of malice, ”For crimes thou claimeth I committed in a time that I conveniently hath no memory of?”
And then his booming voice exploded, ”Thou expect me to believe thy drivel? With no proof?” Ganondorf demanded, ”Thou would command thine own wife to execute me instead of being man enough to come down and do it thyself? That is thine own fault! The price you pay for your sniveling cowardice!” and then he lowered his tone once again, almost to a whisper. ”Dread the coming days, Coward King. For after I hath slayed Galeem and his Consuls, I shall come for THEE next.”
The silence that followed Ganondorf’s tirade was heavy, the tension unbearably thick. Once the warlord had his fill of yelling and threats, Asgore began to speak.
“Fine. If that day comes, I will add you to the Clock, as well.” Asgore turned around. “None of our lives matter, not one whit.” He sighed. “In truth…I’ve seen Toriel come and go so many times. I can’t pretend I’m not numb to it all. And after all I’ve done, I can’t pretend to have any principles, either. I’ve never made the right call. Not even once.” He didn’t know it, but Ganondorf’s expression returned to its original blank state, his anger now deflated.
”We’re not so different, it seems.” the warlord replied, ”I hath no more claim to having principles than thou.” he finally admitted, ”Maybe I did once upon a time, but… that was a lifetime ago.” For all his insults toward Asgore, it didn’t change the fact that he was able to relate to him, if only for this fleeting moment.
In the quiet that followed, Nadia slowly let out the breath she’d been holding. For a moment, a fight between the two kings felt like such an absolute certainty that she’d unwittingly braced herself, her every muscle tense. With the situation seemingly defused, Nadia sighed in relief. Contending with Asgore’s words was tough enough.
”I say we destroy them.” Ganondorf suggested, ”F toldeth us that those Clocks give the Consuls their long lives. So their destruction would surely deal them a crippling blow.”
The thought of ever allying himself with Ganondorf in any capacity made Asgore scoff. “Clock’s out back,” he grumbled. “Knock yourself out.”
”Yeah if I can’t do it you sure can’t either” Bowser commented, full of self sure pride, before adding ”But sure, have a swing so I can rub your nose in your failure afterwards”
”And how, pray tell, did you go about it?” Ganondorf asked the Koopa King with an incredulous tone, ”Let me guess: thou puncheth’ed it, very very hard?” then he shook his head, ”Nothing is truly indestructible you fool. Everything has its weaknesses. The flame clocks are no exception. ‘Tis only a matter of possessing the right tool. All I need is but to find that tool.”
”Yeah, but you don’t have it, do you?” Bowser retorted with surprising smoothness, before adding that ”the magic doomsday device has a magic weakness, big whoop, not exactly a super smart take there. Seen it a dozen times” because what the Koopa King lacked in smarts, and wisdom, and general intelligence really, he sometimes could make up with raw experience.
"Oh enough," Primrose finally said, touching a hand to her temple. She narrowed her eyes at both the king of Koopas and the king of evil. "Go outside if you must continue."
Then she looked back at Asgore. "As awful as it is, what you've said... is believable. But..." she faltered, unsure what she wanted to ask. "...how do we... come back? If you know?"
The old goat seemed markedly happier once Primrose sent the bickering royals outside to take a crack at the Clock, leaving him with just her, Kamek, and Nadia for company. After turning back around, he replied. “That’s something that puzzled me for a good while. Sometimes I’d leave a ghost town, then come back the next day to find it full of people. Or somebody I’d never seen before would show up while my back was turned. After a long time, I came to believe it’s got something to do with this symbol.” He walked over and took the Gae Assail lance from its altar, then used its tip to draw in the ash. “It’s everywhere. At least one in every settlement with a Flame Clock, if you look hard enough. Always on a square tile. I’ve messed around with ‘em, but there’s nothing special about ‘em, or anything hidden beneath.” After a moment, he finished his etching. For the most part it looked like nothing more than a sun, but a slight bent to all its outward flares gave it the fleeting impression of some kind of spiral.
“...Huh,” Nadia said after a moment. She really didn’t know what to make of all this, but for some reason, she didn’t feel as bothered by the possible revelation as she maybe ought to be. Asgore’s secret inspired worry in Primrose, downplay from Bowser, and disbelief from Ganondorf, but for whatever reason the feral found herself looking on the bright side. “Well…not doubting you or anything, but if all that’s true, it’s kinda…fine? With me? Maybe even a relief. It sounds like there’s a real possibility that even if we fall, we’ll get another chance down the road.”
“Without any memory of your current life,” Asgore interjected, a little incredulous about Nadia’s attitude. “Not to mention you’ll come back ‘storied’, and have to break free all over again.”
Nadia flipped up her hands and shrugged, a carefree smile on her face. “Hey, better than nothing!”
Primrose let out a ghost of a laugh. That attitude was so very "Nadia Fortune," as the dancer had come to know her.
"I'm glad all this doesn't bother you so much. Truly." She told Ms. Fortune. She didn't look at the other woman though, just stared at the image Asgore had drawn, committing it to memory. "It doesn't sit as right with me."
But maybe the feral's positivity would rub off on her. For now though, Primrose felt a headache coming on. There was so much to think through. And she burned with curiosity about what had happened to her since being spirited away to this world in the first place. How had she died the previous time? What memories had she made that were now lost forever? Now I understand why he thought to keep this information from us.
Primrose grew quiet again for a few moments, still thinking. Then she blinked up at Asgore.
"...as unsettling as it was to hear, thank you for telling us all the same," she said.
The old goat just grunted. He’d known from the beginning that this conversation wouldn’t do anyone any good, but he’d fulfilled his word, for better or worse. A not-so-small part of him still itched to kill Ganondorf, but he knew better than anyone that such an action would be petty self-satisfaction, and not solve anything. But if he had helped the Seekers bring ruin to the Under’s Guardian, and he intended the Consuls to share in her fate, then maybe this motley crew really could tear it all down.
“...Go,” Asgore said after a moment. “And dismantle this wretched world. Good luck.”
Nadia saluted him, and after a glance at Primrose to make sure she was good to go, turned to leave.
”Well, that was not at all restful” Kamek groaned as he massaged his temples and then got back to his feet, burdened now with cursed knowledge along with his general fatigue.
”I still don’t get the kirby thing though” Bower grumbled as he too turned to go, prompting another groan for Kamek, as he then attempted to explain how traveling fast enough to outrun light itself would affect how a person experienced time. They had barely gotten started, however, before they reached the warp pipe leading down to the Home of Tears. Ganondorf joined them, having been unable to so much as scratch the fallen Flame Clock, and together the Seekers descended into the city of dark waters.
