"That will be ninety-five gold!" The Snowdin shopkeeper handed me my basket with two bundles nestled inside: Three cinnamon buns and a couple handfuls of berries. I had already counted out the gold. I left the coins on the counter, pulled my hood over my head, and gathered my basket.
The bunny shopkeeper smiled warmly. "Good luck to you, Prince Dreemurr." Her two bunny children peeked out from behind the counter and blinked at me. One of them looked to be quite young, but the other was probably about the same age as me.
"Good luck, to you, too. May the odds be ever in your favor." My grip tightened on the basket as I sprinted off into the snow. The lights of the town quickly faded in the swirling mist and falling snowflakes. What a gloomy day for the reaping. I had to remind myself that the reaping was actually going to be held in the Ruins this year, which was a perk for me. It rarely ever happened. Usually, it would be held in more populous places, like Hotland or Snowdin. But the Underground wasn't that well populated anyway.
My purple cloak shone silver with the glint of ice as it flapped behind me, catching wind. I hadn't even been running for a minute and the frost was already nipping at my paws. I blinked away snowflakes from my eyes.
Through the mist, I could see the dull magenta Ruins door. Almost home. I slowed my pace and skidded to a halt where the snow was melting away. I took a moment to lean on the door to catch my breath before going inside. My eyes rested on the basket, which was dusted with little snowflakes. I pressed my free hand gently against the bundle of cinnamon buns, and to my relief, they were still warm.
The Ruins door was nearly frozen shut as always. After the third try, it finally budged, and I slipped inside. I noticed my fur was caked with snow. I set the basket down, dusted myself off and shook out my wet fur, and picked it back up again. I then trudged along the path towards home.
...
My fur was almost dry once I got inside. I could smell Mom's famous butterscotch-cinnamon pie wafting from the kitchen, and Chara sat at the table, scribbling at a piece of paper furiously with a red crayon. Home.
Chara looked up from her drawing as I set the basket on the table. "Hey, Azzy."
I frowned at her. "My name is Asriel."
She just snickered and went back to drawing, and Mom appeared from the kitchen with two slices of pie. "Hello, my child." She set the tray onto the table and prepared our plates. "How was your trip? You aren't cold, are you?"
I shook my head. "I'll be okay, Mom. It was just a little snow." I pulled a chair out and sat down beside Chara. "Besides, I'm nearly dry already!"
Mom chuckled and pulled my cloak off my shoulders. I turned around to protest, but she was already hanging it on the coat rack.
"It'll be dripping wet, and I don't want you trailing water everywhere you go." She explained before I could complain.
"But it makes me look cool." I muttered.
"I think you look cool just as you are." Mom ruffled my fur and kissed my head, and did the same for Chara, who ducked away. "Now, eat up, children! We have a reaping to attend."
Right. The reaping.
I nibbled at a cinnamon bun absently, while Chara chopped at her berries with a knife. I felt the urge to tell mom that she was playing with knives again, but I really didn't feel like telling anyone anything. Not with the reaping in less than an hour.
I noticed Chara stabbing the berries a bit more violently this time, and I turned to face her. She was ruining her drawing with all the juice.
"Chara, your drawing!" I pointed out.
She popped the berry in her mouth and studied her paper with satisfaction. "That's the point!" Chara scooted closer and pointed at her art. "That's me, winning the Under Games."
"Do you realize that you have little to no chance of being a tribute, let alone winning?" I mentioned.
Chara rolled her bright scarlet eyes. "I have more of a chance than you. You wouldn't last a day in the arena, Asriel."
The drawing actually wasn't half bad. She'd improved a lot since we were little. The person in the center was obviously herself, knife in hand, explaining all the splatters of berry juice. I could tell she was surrounded by monsters, and I could barely tell who they were, being completely drenched in "blood".
"Who are they?" I asked, referring to all the monsters.
She pointed out each one with her finger. "That one's Undyne, those are the skeleton brothers, and over there is that spider bake sale girl."
"Muffet?"
"Yeah, Muffet."
"And that one with the missing leg?"
"Oh, that's Mettaton."
That made sense. Chara hated Mettaton.
A sudden voice rang into the room. "Asriel, Chara! Finish up your pie, it's almost time to leave!"
I pushed away the disturbing drawing and wolfed down the butterscotch-cinnamon pie. Chara did, too, but with small, quick bites. After scarfing down a few berries, I hopped off my seat and grabbed my cloak. Chara pulled on her brown combat boots, and with that, I dashed after Mom, with my best friend at my side.
...
The Ruins was a small place for so many monsters. I guessed there were about a couple thousand or more of them gathered at the reaping. This was the whole Underground, after all, so that meant maybe 200 per district.
No way either me or Chara would be picked out of 200.
We stepped up to a table where the royal scientist in training, Alphys, sat with a checkboard. She looked up at me with surprise, and I realized it was not me she was staring at, but Chara. Poor Chara. She couldn't help being the only human in the Underground.
"A-Asriel and Chara Dreemurr?" Alphys asked, adjusting her glasses. I nodded. She checked a couple things off her paper. "Y-You're free to go! G-Good luck, Prince." Chara glared at her as we passed. "G-Good luck to you, too, h-human." She added, stammering, and avoiding eye contact.
Chara sighed once we were amongst the chatter of all the other monsters. "I don't understand why I have to be treated like a stranger. I'm a person just like the rest of you, aren't I?"
"Of course you are, Chara. You're the best friend I ever had, and if everyone else thinks differently, then..." But a figure moving in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Dad!
There was King Asgore Dreemurr up on the podium, our own dad. He caught my eye and waved. I waved back.
Dad spoke into the microphone. "Do we have everyone?" His words rang across the Ruins and echoed off the stone magenta walls. A slender skeleton dressed in a black suit, who I recognized as W.D. Gaster, the royal scientist, slipped in between rows of monsters up to the podium.
"Everyone's here, sir." I could just barely make out his words.
King Asgore nodded in acknowledgment and rose to the microphone once again, silencing us all. "Welcome to the first annual Under Games!"
Silence.
"I would like to thank you all for attending." He thundered.
"Like we had a choice." Chara muttered under her breath. Mom quickly hushed her.
"As you all have been informed already, the process is quite simple." The king went on. "Two names will be chosen for western, center, and eastern Ruins, Snowdin, Waterfall, and Hotland. There will be twenty-four tributes in all."
"Now, let us begin drawing the names. First, we have Western Hotland!"
Dad walked to a small glass globe on the far left. He stuck his big, furry hand inside, and after stirring it around a bit, his hand returned with two small slips of paper.
"For our first tribute from Western Hotland, we have..." His face was one of shock when he opened up the folded slip. "Alphys." He drawled.
Alphys, the royal scientist in training? The crowd broke into excited murmuring. The king rose his hand to command silence, and opened up the second paper. The exact same expression of surprise on his face.
"Mettaton."
This time, the crowd burst with protest. Surely a famous star couldn't be thrown into the arena?
Alphys and Mettaton stepped up onto the stage. Alphys was always a timid person, but this was something entirely different. Her eyes were wide with fear and shock, and she was trembling from head to tail.
Even Mettaton, who never had a problem with being in the spotlight, seemed a bit nervous. I could tell he was trying to look confident, as he always was. He held his chin high, fake pride gleaming in his hot pink eyes.
Dad stepped in between the two of them. "We have our Western Hotland tributes!"
Complete silence.
The first two tributes shook hands, somewhat reluctantly. Mettaton had to bend down a bit because he and Alphys were near opposites when it came to height. It was a coincidence, really. Alphys created Mettaton, and they had been friends before even that.
I wonder how the rest of the reaping will go.
...
The tributes from the rest of Hotland, Waterfall, and Snowdin turned out to be just as strange. Mettaton's employee, Burgerpants, was chosen to represent Eastern Hotland with Muffet, the spider girl from the bake sale. I'd watched Mettaton's eyes narrow in disgust as his worker's name had been called. The other tributes, which were from Center Hotland, were two Vulkins, which were pretty common in the area.
From Western Waterfall, there were Shyren and a Woshua, and from Center, there was the leader of the Royal Guard herself, Undyne. Along with her was Napstablook, the little ghost. He didn't seem to talk that much. Mad Dummy and a Temmie were chosen for Eastern Waterfall.
Now, there was Snowdin. From the Western part there was a Snowdrake and an Icecap, and from Center, Doggo and the bunny shopkeeper's daughter. She looked so frightened and small in front of the king. Finally, there were the skeleton brothers, Sans and Papyrus.
Dad was nearly through calling out the names for the Ruins. So far, there had been nothing interesting. Just a normal monsters that I'd see every day, like Froggits and Whimsuns.
But now, it was time for the Eastern Ruins.
That's us, I reminded myself with a deep breath. There's no way either me or Chara would be chosen, there's just no way.
I found my paws starting to sweat as King Asgore dipped his hand inside the glass orb for the twelfth time. That was when he pulled out that tiny little slip of paper, one out of two hundred.
"Chara Dreemurr."
No.
Chara, my own best friend, the only one I ever had. Chara, my own best friend, was being thrown into the arena to suffer.
No.
She turned to me and squeezed my hand. Was that fear I saw in those fearless eyes? No, Chara was never afraid of anything, not ever.
But somehow, she managed to force a smile. "I'll win for you, Azzy." She turned away to walk up on stage, but I refused to let her go. I just squeezed her hand tighter. Chara easily broke free, and slipped through the staring crowd, without even sparing me a glance.
I just now could see my dad's face. It was a face of disbelief, the face you would make when you wished it all was just a dream. I sure wished it was. So, the king stared blankly ahead, and unfolded the second slip.
The same face, but this time, there was a fear in his eyes that was almost enough to make my heart stop,
"Asriel Dreemurr." He choked out.
And I was pretty sure my heart had stopped, feeling the gazes of thousands upon me. Everyone knew my name. Everyone knew that I, Asriel Dreemurr, was the son of King Asgore and Queen Toriel, and along with Chara, had just been guaranteed a death in the arena in the first ever Under Games.