Monster Age: A Fantasy Epic

by GR Griffin

  The boatman pressed on, “Trust me. It’ll stop on the button – it always does.”

  He turned to go back down to the ground floor, but stopped to wait for them. Asgore and Toriel looked at each other, remaining idle for several second.

  “Shouldn’t we have coats?” Asgore asked, taking a step away from his warm chair.

  “No need. Like I said: it’ll stop on the button.”

  Upon them all reaching the ground floor, two other monsters were positioned near the door, nursing drinks, showing to rush to leave, yet ready to exit to the outside world. The majority basically lived around the bar or whatever booth they found the most comfy for their face to rest on.

  The boatman placed a webbed hand on the door handle while looking at his watch. Asgore and Toriel stood back, keeping eyes fixated on the nearest window. Seconds left until the rain stopped, these monsters so confident that it will halt on the dot, and yet the rain and the fog was just as prevalent. Would the rain really end this abruptly? The boss monsters had to see this.

  “Three… two… one…” the boatman counted, and then turned the handle and swung the door open without a care in the Outerworld. Cold air invaded the cosy interior. “Okay, let’s go!” He rushed out, getting three strides down the walkway before realising it was still raining. He turned and rushed back inside the shelter, having been outside for a mere two seconds and already getting drenched down to the bone. The former husband and wife were not surprised, but confused nonetheless. What was he expecting to do by trying to predict the weather like that?

  The frog boatman smiled in an embarrassed fashion and nodded his head while letting loose a hearty chuckle. “Sorry, folks,” he said, gesturing to his watch, “must be out of whack again. Couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”

  Toriel glanced around the interior. “Is there a towel we can find you, or…?”

  The boatman waved her off with a light heart. “It’s fine, a little water never hurt anyone.” He asked the barkeep, “What time do you make it?”

  The monster behind the bar glanced at his clock and responded, “My clock must’ve gone funny also: it’s the same time as you make it. Who else has the time?”

  Around the inn, patrons looked at their watches and compared times, discovering that everyone’s was the same. Spirits steeped in booze began to become restless and uneasy, heads rose off tables and bodies scattered off stools and chairs, worried talking amongst themselves as they clambered around the windows. Two minutes passed. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes passed, but the rain continued to fall.

  The frog boatman’s suave personality crumbled. He took another look out the streaked glass. “This… this ain’t right. It’s well past the hour now; the rain should’ve stopped by now – it always does.”

  “Always?” Asgore asked, having little clue what all the fuss was about.

  “Always,” the boatman echoed. “I’ve never seen this before. If it keeps up at this rate…”

  “Excuse me,” Toriel interjected, “I do not wish to bother you, but we still need to reach the castle.”

  “You want to travel in that?” The boatman pointed out the cramped window.

  “Did you not just say that a little water never hurt anyone?”

  The frog boatman responded with a smile. “Good point. Hey, Barkeep,” he said, “got a few cloaks to spare?”

  “S-sure,” the barkeep responded. He opened a nearby closet and pulled a few from a row of them, possibly kept for emergency situations or for those in a hurry. He pulled out three and threw them over.

  Each one took a single cloak. They came in black and made of a slick, waterproof material; big enough to cover a large person. The boatman wrapped the cloak over his head, leaving enough trailing around him to cover three more people. Asgore and Toriel did the same, the former’s cloak looked like a tent over his large horns.

  The trio, holding their covers tight, braved the harsh rain, walking carefully on the slippery path. Heavy wind battered them, attempting to push them into the murky depths. They reached their boat, took off the tarp, and sailed out. The boatman attempted to commit the same amount of tact when he always sailed, but found the rain, and the rising tides, and the cloak around his head bothersome. His technique became harsh and sloppy, just the style needed to venture through these rough waters.

  In the town over, the residents were running, shouting, scared. Across the swampy island of Bob, the water level had already risen over the higher level marked out on the supports. It had already flooded into the floors of the lowest buildings and creeped up the muddy banks. There was a growing tide, the likes of which none of these structures were built to handle, and it tugged on the boat.

  None of them had seen anything like this. The final hours were upon them. The end of days nigh.

  But… the frog boatman still had a job to do as he aimed the bow toward Castle Highkeep.

  Chapter 30: Dust to Dust

  Zeus's dusty, dead double walked with full, defined legs through the scores of minions who shifted aside, occasionally into each other. Ashen soles treaded with a solidity lost on everyone. Once upon a time, these monsters who knelt to his command must have also done so in life.

  Fleck half-heartedly raised the sword and shield as he approached, preparing for another fight for which they hoped their body could handle. If he wanted to talk, then he could do so from a sword's length. For all they knew, this ashen statue was just as crazy as those with their knees, bodies, and faces moulded against the bitter ground.

  The lion figure halted, his body an inch from the blade tip. He appeared to give the child the benefit of the doubt.

  "You and I," he directed toward Fleck, "have never met before, and yet, I think we both know exactly who the other is. Don't you, Fleck?"

  The child's reaction told him that he was correct to assume their name. From the second Fleck saw him, Fleck needed only one guess to return the favour. He was the late Emperor Juhi: Zeus's dad.

  Juhi appeared dishevelled by that fact. "I used to be the emperor… and I used to be Juhi, but now I'm neither, resurrected in this pitiful state. And knowing that I dragged you into this mess by saying your name as my last word makes it worse."

  It was those words that made Fleck's arms go slack, aiming the sword at the ground and not at the former emperor's chest. Whether they had the rapier pointed or not, it made no difference to what they could not kill.

  "Everyone, hear me now," the dead general and predecessor to Emperor Zeus announced to his equally dead subjects, raising his arms. "This human is not our enemy – they are our friend, and they are here to help. Rise."

  The subjects rose, bringing their full heights into focus; some smaller, some equal, and some taller than the human child. Through their obedience and silence, whatever mode of madness gripping them still tugged at the fringes of their minds like imaginary friends fighting for the steering wheel. Monsters still chuckled madmen girth under breathless breaths, trembling the slightest twitches, and shedding ashy drops from drawn eyes.

  From out the crowd, the bullish dog who earlier charged Fleck slipped through, having fully reassembled himself. His hostility already dwindled, suppressed by the return of his long lost general and friend.

  "Rex… glad to have you back… General," through unyielding, constant anger, he fought to speak as humble as he could.

  Dunmore joined in, his body shaking with so much pride that he left a steel breadcrumb trail. "You've been away for much too long, Emperor Juhi. Much too long."

  Juhi smiled, nodded at both individuals, and placed hands on both their shoulders. "It is a pleasure to see you both again, and…" His words trailed off as someone else caught his eye.

  From out the darkness, another figure of ash emerged. The rest of the nondescript herd moved aside, recognising this staggering ash as highly as that of their former general and ruler. Baring a faint resemblance to a rat or a mouse, this one nears Juhi with ailing movements and a limp from old wounds inflicted
when he lived and breathed.

  "Been waiting a long… long… long time for you to come back…" the mouse said. "Been keeping everything warm in your absence…"

  Juhi at first appeared sad, heartbroken, as the mouse hobbled closer. He shook his hand the same way old friends would. "Danyell… I am glad for us to be reunited again," he said, then went all around. "To be reunited with all of you is an honour. I just wish it was on better terms."

  To which Danyell responded, "No one can defeat death. You are blameless, your majesty."

  In the middle of all this, Fleck stood silent; the happy smiles failed to even acknowledge their existence. This particular peculiar human had been present to a host of bizarre events, from flexing to a literal, winking seahorse, to dating a skeleton, to answering quiz questions for a killer robot and cooking cake with a killer robot and posing as a news correspondent for a killer robot and acting as a stage extra for a killer robot, but witnessing a happy family reunion of the dead would be difficult to top for years to come. While it was nothing short of strange, they could not argue with the results: none of these creatures were attacking them.

  "Fleck," Juhi said as he faced them, "I must apologise for the treatment you have received since your arrival. These people have been here for such a long time, and as such, are not in the right frame of mind. Many of whom were alive during the war against humans and thought you to be an enemy soldier. I do hope you understand."

  Finally, confident that the danger had passed, Fleck sheathed their sword and closed the shield. While Fleck was still pretty peeved at being made a target – for the fifth freaking time today! – they tried to put themself in their dusty boots and thought that being both dead and stuck in this dark, dirty, smelly, lifeless pit for a few hundred years would drive anyone insane.

  Fleck told everyone that all was forgiven.

  This got a grin out of Juhi, something his only son could never do. "This Advisor wasn't wrong when he said you were something different. Any other human would still be swinging by this point," he said. "We could have used more people like you in those days. Although I thought you'd be a little… older."

  Fleck winced at the sound of the title bestowed onto Flowey, forcing their mind to picture the golden flower with two black, button eyes and a mouth with a natural prowess to grin, both charmingly and sinisterly. Kill to save? That was Flowey's mentality now? Whatever happened to don't kill, and don't be killed?

  "Yes, it is apparent that you and the Advisor share some history together," Juhi said. Fleck would have laughed right in his face had the gesture not been so rude. History was an incredibly light way of phrasing it. He went on, "I can see it in your eyes. Your closed eyes. How do you get around without opening them? Nonetheless, we have much to discuss and such little time to do so. Where is the best place to talk?"

  Danyell waved over his shoulder, gesturing to all. "Follow me. There is a place."

  * * *

  Inside the security of his domain, Emperor Zeus paced like an impatient lion in a zoo pen. He glanced out the window for the eleventh time in three minutes; the rain failing to cease as expected. The castle walls ran dark from the humidity and the flowers of his garden had withered into tiny husks, creating a barren, flooded wasteland where a glorious, technicoloured paradise lay yesterday. For as long as Zeus has lived on this small world, the rain had always stopped on the same hour, every day until now. The tension had spread to the souls of every man, woman, and child within his four walls. Fear was spreading through his ranks faster than wildfire, Zeus could hear it in their voices, see it in their movements, and detect a frantic quickness in their paces, and unless he could find a way to place it under control, it would develop into an unstoppable inferno which could spell the end not only to the Monster Military but to the entire Empire.

  Rage simmered deep. The humans would never have this problem, no threat such as this would ever dare to break the human ranks, just him and his army of monsters receiving the short end of the stick as usual. It wasn't fair. Never was.

  Zeus was angry enough to lash out at the next thing he came across, living or otherwise, and not feel a pang of guilt afterwards.

  From the crack in the door, a solider in a shiny helmet poked his head through and said in a frightened, shrivelled voice, "Your majesty."

  Emperor Zeus glared at the soldier who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Just the very sight of his face set off alarm bells in Zeus's dangerously short wick of a temper. He did not like the way the solider was staring at him. The sheen from the helmet was dazzling his silver eyes. The pathetic tone bleating from out that pencil neck made Zeus want to snap it in two. Finding the strength, Zeus reined back his anger, at least for a precious few seconds… unless this soldier proved otherwise that his neck needed breaking.

  The guard hesitated to continue, so Zeus helped him along. "What!" he snapped loudly.

  The guard's head shrank below his chest plate collar like a turtle trying to retreat into its shell. He meekly pointed down the hall and replied, "The Advisor has returned, my lord."

  Two things helped to quell the Emperor's rising rage: the mention of the Advisor, and the soldier pushing the door further open to allow said advisor and his assistant to rumble through; Brute's shuddering footsteps suddenly noticeable. Water dripped from the lines and folds of Brute's black suit and Flowey shook his petal head like a dog drying himself.

  "Advisor, where have you been?" interrogated Zeus while the single soldier made a swift exist, not wishing to be part of the folly that may ensue. The Emperor was a tactical genius and the Advisor was a mastermind of secrets, but the soldier scampering away who struggled with fractions, volumes, and noncommutative algebraic geometry may have been the smartest one there.

  Advisor Flowey stopped shaking, his yellow petals stuck out like wet fur. He was calm in the face of hostility, which stretched from him to his tank of an assistant. "The Forest, your excellency," he answered, Brute gestured accordingly. "Considering the reports of the human's movements, and possible motives for going to that island, I travelled there myself to both gather information and attempt to stop… it." Flowey briefly faltered, almost getting the pronoun wrong.

  "You attempted to defeat the human by yourself? Without an armed escort? In the middle of an island that remain insolence to the Empire?" Emperor Zeus shook his head, accentuating the gleam of his golden mop. "I thought you were smarter than that."

  Advisor Flowey giggled. "Not entirely," he replied, then frowned in an instant. "Wait, that came out wrong. I mean I wasn't entirely alone; I had Brute here with me." Brute pointed his thumb at himself. "With an assistant this big, nobody threatened me."

  The added importance of being the royal advisor in the Empire might have painted a large target on the back of this flower's head, but the fact that he worked with the shadows, from the shadows, meant that nobody knew who he was. The citizens of the Forest and adversaries of the Empire did not see the, arguably, second most important link in the chain of command, but an absurdly strong, absurdly stupid, and absurdly stylish monster with skin like rock, hauling a pot that contained more than his head did.

  "Well, I'm not seeing a dead human or its soul in your possession…" Zeus countered.

  "That's true, my lord," Flowey replied. There were many ways for this conversation to go, especially south. He chose his route carefully. "My assistant and I encountered the human; however, in the fight that followed, it managed to escape." Best not to mention the part about Fleck plummeting a thousand feet to the depths below.

  "Then what was the purpose of being there in the first place?" Zeus said angrily, nearing. "Because it looks to me like you wasted your time and mine, when I needed your guidance the most."

  Flowey remained confident, Brute followed suit on the outside. Inside, though, he quivered with a dread Flowey could detect.

  "Not quite. We – and by 'we' I mean 'I' – learned a great deal of knowledge while we were there," Advisor Flowey said.

&
nbsp; Zeus folded his arms. He was listening. This better be good.

  "The human lead me right to Professor Haze." Already, Flowey was off to a good start. "I got in close enough to spy on the secret meeting without being detected." That part was a lie, he learned about the professor's plan from a dream one week back. "A rebellion is rising, led by the professor himself, and the human is set to be their champion. Haze armed it with a sword and shield which were built specifically to use against you. Seriously, my assistant here can turn concrete into rubble, yet even he could not put a dent in that shield."

  Zeus remained quiet, the astonishment raining down washed off his shoulders like water on a duck monster's back. Growing up, Professor Haze was never his favourite adult, in turn making him Haze's least favourite boy. Zeus always guessed that wishing someone dead was the natural step up from slightly disliking them. Zeus's silence ushered the Royal Advisor to keep going.

  "The rebellion fear that this change in weather means the end of days for the Outerworld. They are planning to attack soon to seize control of the castle and the Obelisk."

  "How soon?"

  "Within an hour."

  "Then send word to General Leigh; the fortress is to go on high alert."

  "Yes, sir." Flowey went to leave off the shoulders of his assistant, Brute, when the same assistant turned back on the tell-tale expression that his advisor had something more to say. "Oh, one more thing to mention. Before I left, I took the liberty of bringing in some additional reinforcements from our biggest supporting islands. They'll be here very soon to help with the attack."

  Zeus would have been irate by the fact that orders were being made without his consent, but honestly, Zeus needed some much needed good news, some extra muscle, and another thing to channel his anger towards, especially when it felt like the world was against him.