Forgotten History

The Hardest Thing

The Monster Army marched through the night, leaving their fallen companions behind in a burning village. Sans couldn't find it in himself to speak to Wingdings or Grillby about what happened, he just kept kept staring forward. The blade that Relegore had gifted him in his final moments tapped against his femur as he continued forward. Wingdings knew he wouldn't speak, he wasn't sure what the King had said to him, but he knew Sans wouldn't say. Not right now. So he and Grillby walked on either side of Sans, just being there if Sans required them to be. Sans didn't really notice, though if he had he would've appreciated it. Once they got to the next town Sans knew he had to inform Prince Asgore of his father's passing. That was the hardest thing for him to think about. He had been devastated knowing he'd never see his clan, his father again, he could only imagine how the Prince who was younger than him would take it. Sans closed his sockets for a moment. He was nineteen, he'd currently been fifteen when Asgore was twelve so then... the Prince was sixteen? Only two years older than Sans when Sans lost his dad and family.

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They made it to the next town in the early morning, around pre-dawn. General Gerson knocked on the doors to the Town's Hall, but nobody answered. The soldiers all sheltered there for the time being, until someone woke up. Sans went on the hunt for paper and a pen. Then he took to a desk and started to write the Prince. "Sans, you should get some rest." Gerson called, only to be blatantly ignored. "Second Lieutenant." Still no response. Gerson looked to Wingdings or Grillby. "Forgive him, he was there when the King.." Grillby trailed off as Gerson gave a look of understanding. "That boy.." He shook his head. Wingdings approached Sans as he scribbled down words swiftly and efficiently. "Papyma."
"He needs to know, I need him to know." Sans spoke softly as he signed along sloppily, revealing how much energy he had left. "Let who know?" Wingdings asked. "His son, Asgore. He needs to know." Wingdings let Sans finish off the note, before picking him up and carrying him over to the others. Once Grillby had him, Wingdings folded the note and summoned a Blaster. "To the Prince."

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"To the Prince of All Monsters, Asgore Dreemurr.

Greetings young Prince,

I have written to you on behalf of the Royal Army. I must inform you that your father, The King, has fallen to the Human Armies on the Twenty-eighth of September, 19XX. You have my deepest condolences. Your father was a good monster and a great King. He will be sorely missed. I have taken care of the ones who felled him, they got what they deserved. Likewise a King is still needed to keep the order among the monsters. If you ever need me, King Asgore, I will be there. I am loyal to only you.

Your Servant,

The Judge"

Asgore's hands tightened around the paper as he finished reading the letter, tears dripping down. Asgore should have known that the day was coming. The war had only escalated since its start six years ago. With his father leading on the frontlines, it was only a matter of time. Now Asgore was King. Did he have time to grieve? Could he afford to waste that time while his people suffered on the frontlines? Should he go to them and fight alongside them? Stars, why did it have to be his father, Asgore wasn't ready! ... maybe he should ask this 'Judge'.

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Sans didn't sleep very long. He couldn't keep his eyes closed. All he could see was burning and Skeletons and monsters dusting all around him. No, sleep wasn't really an option anymore. It was nice while he had it though. Sans sighed and got up from a... bed. He was sleeping on a bed. In a room that he didn't recognize. What happened to the letter? Did he send it or was it still on the desk he was writing on? Sans glanced over to the side where Relegore's sword was perched against the wall across from him. The hilt, like his old sword, carried the Deltarune insignia on the gleaming golden base, the hilt was purple. The sheath was colored the same as the hilt. Sans had seen Relegore use it time and again to slay enemies. He knew a lot about this particular blade. He even knew its name, Retribution. Relegore had entrusted it to him now. Sans got up and grabbed Retribution, before leaving the room to explore his new surroundings. He would find one of the others around here surely.

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"Papyma, you didn't sleep long at all." Wingdings fretted. "We'd just put you down." Sans shrugged. "what happened to the letter? where are we?" Grillby frowned but responded in kind. "Wingdings sent it out for you and this small home was kindly gifted to us by the townspeople as a temporary quarters." Sans nodded slowly and stretched. "Are you ok, Sans?" Sans thought to nod and say that he was fine, but they already knew better. "not really, but i'll get through it... i did before." Hardly. Wingdings wasn't about to let Sans suffer alone. He hugged the young adult, and reassured Sans that he was always there to talk, him and Grillby both were. "i know, seema, i know you are.." Sans mumbled back, taking the comfort where he could get it.