#featuring....... just straight up fanfic writing. no weird tangents or anything it's all full immersion today

[brushstrokesapocalyptic]

The Legend of Asriel PART 5 | THE GREAT FAIRY

chara experiences regret.

“So, what do we do?“

Chara makes a face. They’re far from Castle Town, Frisk having some impressive endurance for someone who still needs to breathe, and they’re currently splayed out beneath a tree with the remains of the Master Sword scattered across a cloth beside them.

“I’m not sure,“ Chara admits, using one hand to sign while they push around the metal shards and try to fit them together like the world’s most sacred jigsaw puzzle. “I honestly didn’t see any part of this coming. If Asriel’s been missing this whole time I don’t know how I could find him, and quite frankly the sword has me even more concerned.“

Frisk pushes themself up by their elbows. “So, what do we do about the sword? I’m sure you can’t just piece it back together like that.”

Chara carefully positions a sliver of steel between two larger chunks. “You would be correct in that assessment.”

“So, what do we do?“

Chara makes another face. They had thought Frisk would gather from the first face they made that that’s the worst possible question to ask right now, but apparently they’re duller than they thought. “I’m. Not. Sure.”

Frisk groans, dropping their head back to the grass. “You’re dumb and worthless.”

Chara reaches over to prod Frisk’s shoulder, waiting for them to look up again. “If that’s what you think, you’re more than welcome to pack up and return to your desert.“

“Heck no, I’ve seen enough sand for the rest of my life.“

“In that case, I suggest you stop pestering me about stuff I have yet to decide upon.“

Frisk huffs again, but their hands remain still as they watch Chara slowly piece the Master Sword back together. Occasionally they’ll reach over and point out a couple pieces that will fit together, but beyond that and the small nods Chara gives in response, they do not speak any further.

Then Chara pauses, staring at the nearly-complete (though still thoroughly shattered) blade, and they frown. “...Something’s wrong,” they mutter. Frisk tilts their head and they repeat in sign, “Something’s wrong, there’s a piece missing.”

Frisk tilts their head and glances across the reconstructed blade. Sure enough, there’s a noticeable gap right near the hilt, and every other piece has been slotted together perfectly. “We must have left it behind by accident.”

Chara takes a deep breath, then screams into their hands. “Of all the dumb things to mess up!” they sign, hands flailing a little in their frustration. “We have to go back.”

Frisk purses their lips. “No.”

“No?!“

“We literally just escaped after stealing something important, and they know we have it,“ Frisk explains. “Frankly, we shouldn’t have stopped like this. They’ll be looking for us in no time.“

“So?! I know all the ins and outs of that place, I could get you there and back in no time—“

“To look for a single piece of metal we don’t even know for sure is there,“ Frisk says, standing. “It’ll have to be reforged anyway. It’s only a single shard.“

“You don’t understand!“ Chara snaps, reaching out to grab Frisk’s wrists when they ignore them. “This is an ancient sword, crafted by the goddesses themselves— we can’t just change it, every inch of its design was forged for a purpose!“

Frisk stares at them for a long moment. Then they look back down at the sword. They kneel, folding the fabric back around it into a bundle, and they tuck it into their backpack. “Well,” they finally reply, “We’ll have to tackle that one as it comes.”

They pull their cloak back on over their backpack and start walking, eyes fixed firmly ahead. Chara takes a moment to follow. “Where are you going?” they ask, flitting into Frisk’s view.

“Dunno,“ they reply. “I was serious about not sticking around, so pretty much my only goal is away from there.“

Chara narrows their eyes a little, then sighs and flits back to Frisk’s side. “Go that way,” they say, pointing a little more to the left of Frisk’s current trajectory, towards the volcano spewing ominous clouds of smoke.

“Now you have ideas?“

Chara grimaces. “It’s a last-ditch effort, but I couldn’t think of anything else. So we’re asking someone else for help.”

“Who?“

Chara takes a deep breath to steel themself. “Have you ever heard of a Great Fairy?”

[ID: A simple sketch of a rough wooden sign hanging between two vertical surfaces. On the sign is some writing in Hylian script. End Description.]

“It’s...“

“Misspelled, yes.“

“You’re sure this is the right place?“

Chara’s smile grows strained. “Uncomfortably so.”

Frisk stares at Chara, then back at the wooden sign hanging in the doorway of this run-down cabin. GReT FARY FONTIN, it reads. give rupi p.

Chara places a hand on Frisk’s shoulder. “Listen. I understand if you have any trepidations about this. We can find another way, I’m sure once some time has passed the guards will relax a little and we can slip back in—”

Frisk puts a hand on Chara’s face and pushes them back. “Those are my words,” they say. “I’m not scared of a little decrepit house.”

“It’s not the house,“ Chara insists, hands snapping and eyes twitching a little. “It’s just— the Great Fairies are a lot to deal with, if you’re not absolutely sure you’re prepared...“

“I’ll be fine,“ Frisk says.

“Are you sure?“

Frisk ignores them. The sign is easily ducked under, and it only takes their eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness inside— and it’s really not so bad. A little dusty, and the floorboards shift underneath their feet as they pad towards the large, circular basin of water in the center of this building, but it’s really nothing to be afraid of.

They stop right at the edge, staring down at their reflection in the water. The surface is smooth as glass, and when they look around they see no one here but the ghost reluctantly following them inside. “Shouldn’t there be a fairy?” Frisk asks.

Chara glares at them and doesn’t reply, just drifts to a stop by Frisk’s side and closes their eyes. Then they open their mouth, and Frisk supposes they must be singing, based on how their lips are moving. Then Chara opens their eyes again and takes a large step back, lifting their arms over their face.

Frisk gets ready to ask them what they’re doing, and then water splashes over them in a wave, toppling them to the ground. Their eyes shut reflexively, and when they open again it’s like the room is totally restored— polished wood flooring, intricate patterns painted across the walls, and lights of all different colors hung up across everything in sight.

And also, hovering over the shimmering fountain, there is a weird cat-dog thing surrounded by fluttering fairies. It lifts a paw, opens its mouth, and says,

“HOi!“

“Oh, she comes with subtitles,“ Chara says out loud, and Frisk sees their words write themselves out in the air before them. “Aaand so do I.“

“Tem activated acessibiliti settings, yaya!“ the Great Fairy chirps, resting her paws on her chin. “Gots to be ready for all heroes, ya!“

“Not that I’m complaining,“ Chara says, putting their hands on their hips, “But you sure didn’t seem eager to do this kind of thing for me.“

The fairy laughs uproariously, rolling around in the air. “Silly silly human! U expect so much!”

“See, this is what I’m talking about,“ Chara says, looking over at Frisk. “Really, I shouldn’t have bothered—“

The fairy moves faster than Frisk’s eyes can follow, stopping inches from Chara’s face with a gust of wind. “You cannot begin to understand the nature of my existence, little ghost,” she says, face deathly serious. “Dismiss my advice if you please. Just remember which one of us has the unstoppable magic powers.”

The fairy backs off, trotting back to her position in the middle of the fountain. Chara says nothing, just floats back with a distinctly rattled expression.

“So!“ the fairy chirps. “Hoiw can I hoilp u?“

Frisk stares for a long moment, then lifts their hands to sign. “Um, first, who exactly are you?”

“Temmie is Temmie!“ the fairy chirps. “Hoi!“

“I’m told you’re a Great Fairy?“

“The GRETist.“

“Do you... help a lot of heroes?“

Temmie beams. “YaYa, lotsa heros!”

A moment of silence falls, and then Chara elbows Frisk in the side. “Sword,” Chara signs, and Frisk lights up.

Frisk hurries to swing their backpack off, tugging out the bundle containing the Master Sword. “This sword was destroyed,” they say, a little awkwardly around the bundle in their arms. “Chara thinks you can help, so— can you?”

Temmie hums and haws a little, putting her paw on her chin and tilting her head back and forth. “Tricky, tricky, thats VERy broken. Holy sords, very hard to fix. Esp like This.”

“How come?“ Frisk asks. “It’s a sword, right? It can be reforged.“

“Sure, u can make a new sord,“ Temmie says. “But ur missing sumtihng.“

“We lost a piece,“ Chara admits. “We can go back, we can find it—“

“O no, no!“ Temmie cuts in, waving a paw. “Not THAT, cutie ghostie. Doesnt matter how much old sord u use. Holy Sord is broken. You gots to make a new sord n make that holy.”

“And how do we do that?“ Frisk asks.

Temmie hums. “Well. First you gots to reforge it! That’s the easy step, tem can do that for u.”

Chara smiles. “Oh, that’s not so—”

“For ten thousand rupees.”

“Ah.“ Chara makes a face. “...Does it matter who reforges it...?”

Frisk raises a hand. “It seems like it’d be fine as long as it’s a sword?”

“Yaya, this hero gets it!“ Temmie says, clapping a little. “Of course, it’d be greatest if I do it! Only 20 thousand rupees!“

“Pass,“ Chara says, spinning on their heel and making for the door. “Come on Frisk, we have what we came for.“

“30 thousands,” Temmie offers.

Frisk gives her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m a little short,” they say, backing up. “Maybe another time!”

“Aw, okay,“ Temmie says. “Boi then!“

As Frisk steps back outside, the cabin’s appearance shifts back into that run-down look, the lights inside flickering out. Chara says something, but no subtitles appear for Frisk to read.

Chara realizes this after a moment, and lifts their hands to sign with a chagrined look. “Well, you know the drill. We have to find a blacksmith.”

“Any ideas on where to look?“

“Yeah, actually,“ Chara says. They lift their arm to point up the side of the volcano. “Death Mountain.”

Frisk looks up at the volcano, then back at Chara. Their question goes unvoiced.

“It’s quite pleasant, actually.“

“Sure.“

[Next Part] [Index]