Chapter Text
A warm summer's day seeped through the skin of many mortal citizens. Birds chirped in a lovely melody, cows hummed and mood while farmers led them out to fields, and children screamed with mirth and happiness.
A young god, truly no older than that of a human teenager on the cusp of adult-hood, peaked out for their hiding spot. Wonder seeped through their eyes as happiness found its way to their mouth. Behind them was the church of Asgore, its long hallway gave room to the God of God's throne.
Slowly they stepped into the light and wandered through the simple town. Feet almost gliding across dirt and gravel. Children rushed past them, paying them no notice. Looking around, humans went on their way to shops, women washing husbands' clothes, workers carrying lumber for new houses. It was all so peaceful and joyous.
People gave the God not a second glance, as were they as ordinary as the rest. Too old to be playing with the children, too young to be working. Yet still, they wandered through this peaceful area. War had not molested this sacred place, soon to be protected by distant kings and tyrants.
Yet war knew no mercy and held no grudge or favor. Little did anyone know, the odd and out-of-place God would soon bring horror and misery, more than any blood-seeking soldier could.
Yet it would be impossible to believe a god picking flowers in a nearby meadow would bring such hate, if not for the other God watching them now. With mystery and wonder.
Soon the sky called for the young god, and when they thought no one was watching, they spread their brilliant gold wings wide. And lifted off to the beautiful garden of Eden above unknowing mortals.
Soon the other God took off with them, his disgusting black haze leaving a trail in his ascension.
Large goat horns touched space, clouds and white filled one's vision. The young god bowed respectfully and stayed on their knees until Asgore allowed them up. Carefully they floated to Him, His large and overpowering size made it hard for eye to eye contact. He could shrink down at any size and take whatever form He wanted, but when in His realm, He decided not to.
"You must be confused as to why I called you. Yes?" He spoke with confidence and power no other being could, dark red eyes searching the young God's face.
"Yes, your highness. Though I hold no displeasure towards your request." They responded, eyes looking downcast. How could one not be nervous in the presence of such grace?
Asgore smiled and nodded. "Even if you're so young, I can count on you so easily, to be honest." He held out a large paw, and the god landed softly on it. The god only stood on one pad of His hand and didn't even take up the whole one.
They bowed in thanks and waited for Him. "I have a request for you, Child." He said, almost somber.
"Anything, your highness." They bowed once again. Wings spreading and head ducked, they waited.
"I need you to visit the underworld, and take a message to Death." He summoned a white scroll, decorated with a shimmering gold bow. Asgore watched as the god picked up the scroll, and He shook His hand for them to return flying in the air. "I trust you know where to go?" He asked.
"Yes, your highness. I promise to get this to Papyrus as quickly as I can." They nodded and started to descend before Asgore corrected them.
"No, not Papyrus," He stopped. Asgore watched the god as their wings stuttered. "Sans. This does not change anything, does it?" His question was more of a dare, would one be so brave as to reject the King?
"Of course, your highness. I apologize for my elementary mistake." The god bowed so far their whole back face Asgore.
"No need to apologize, child." He chuckled, "It is a common mistake. Now be on your way." He waved them off with a smile.
They bowed once more before flying off. With swift, they cut through the clouds and made a steep drop towards the mountains that surrounded the grassy haven.
To an outsider, all they saw was a dove careening for suicide towards the mountain. To the gods, a child was daring their will for their home. They stopped just short of an opening in the mountain and landed with ease.
Drawing a sigh of relief, they quickly grabbed a beautifully made satchel and grabbed important items. Coins, maps, pencils, specially made scrolls, and finally, the scroll Asgore gave them.
Turning back, they breathed in the beautiful scent of the morning, dew and fresh air graced their lungs as they stood.
Though, silently, a tucked-away part of them was shaking in fear, for they had to face the coldest God of them all. One that rivaled the goddess of War, the God of Death.
Of course, he was not the only God of Death, no, he shared that title with his twin. They shared that job as mortal twins might share a womb, hand in hand. Papyrus, he was the God of miscarriage and old age. He was a peaceful and merciful God, they gently guided peaceful and quiet souls to an afterlife that reflected them. A garden that he made and cultured.
Though Sans, his brother was the other side of the coin. Murder and betrayal stained his reputation. Mothers who were too sick, children who had been murdered in unjust ways, boys who died at the hands of another in war. That's what he took. And they dragged souls to the depths of hell as they screamed for mercy.
But, one cannot go against Asgore. The god had already tested His Mercy when they died the first, they would not test it again for the true embrace of Sans.