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The stars are not something the people of the Underground can wish upon, underneath, in admiration of. Which is a sad thing, but people must move on in spite of it all.
An alternative was found, as was the next best step in finding hope.
Or, maybe hope is not the correct term? Word? It's something of a describer for this, but I don't think it fits right enough.
Perhaps it's better phrased as a simple something to pray to?
Or would that role be given to the echoes?
Are hopes and dreams and prayers as beautiful of a blue as these flowers?
Do they glow just as bright?
Would they sing back, in a tune separate from ours?
…No. I'm told as such, it's not. But what a dream that would be, if these prayers could be answered by a voice somewhere above.
By an Angel, of which I've been informed all about through stories and scripture.
If only.
But, again, we move on. Because what else is there? Despite these tunnels and depths being so dark, there is a light at the end, if you're willing to seek it out.
There's a splash, and a boy-ish laugh, a brief noise some distance away… Wherever he is, around that corner.
I'm glad he's invited me out here, Waterfall is a wonderful place.
Twisting and winding cavernous tunnels, cliffsides and other elevations, highs and lows in the ceiling that make every corner something new. The expanse of it all that are dotted by so many ponds, pools, lakes, rivers, creeks and waterfalls.
You could never finish exploring it all by yourself. There's simply so much here.
I think Sans enjoys it more than me, though. Or maybe we love it equally? Rivals in our appreciation for the collective dreams and lights manifested here.
Oh, and how beautiful these colors are.
The various high ceilings so far above could be mistaken as the aurora borealis, with all its hues and false stars and amazements, if you blur your vision. Or if there's tears in your eyes.
I don't think there's any tears this time. At least not from me, and not any I've noticed from him, who's finally made his way back to me from wherever it was he splashed off to.
The ends of his jacket sleeves are wet. Was he grabbing something? Listening to dreams, maybe. It only takes an intent touch to get a flower to speak.
He reaches a hand out to me, his expression as lax and content as typical, but I don't take it. "Not when you're wet, bro. What have you even been doing?"
Listen… We've been here for some hours already, something impressively long of an evening together, and I've yet to get wet. And I have full intentions of staying dry, thanks! I'm not going back home damp, are you joshing me?
I already need to get a fire going as soon as I get back to my cabin, and stars actually forbid I do that while shivering more than necessary.
"i'm bone dry, if you haven't noticed." He quips, seeming all innocent and demure. And he's… hiding his wet sleeves behind his back.
Rocking on his heels and everything.
I don't think I have ever hated and loved a man so simultaneously before. Sans is so painfully stupid, in a fun and silly way.
I'm really, really grateful to be friends with him.
I raise a brow in mock show, "Your pants are on fire," I flick my wrist downward to his shorts, "You best put that out. Maybe…—"
"drown while i'm at it?" He finishes.
"You read my mind, magic man." I twist that same wrist, directing him to the nearest body of water, which—wouldn't you guess—is another waterfall. Going into a lone pool of water.
He makes some sound resembling a click of a tongue, an 'aha!' moment. He marches toward it, "haven't dipped my toes in this one yet! good eye."
If I asked for a fourth time, would he tell me what he's looking for?
I thought this was going to be a… I don't know, a nature walk with a friend? Not that he explained the purpose of this trip when he first sent that text, but I thought I could put the pieces together myself. Because what else could this be?
But no, there's something he's looking for. Maybe he lost track of an echo he wants to show me? Or there's a nice spot he's trying to find the way to? His invite said, 'i want to show u sumthn beautiful in waterfall. u free for an evening w me?'
So… yeah, there's only so much I can go off.
Something seemed to excite him after he got closer and bent to look into it.
I come up behind him to see what the fuss is, shifting to lean over his shoulder and look.
This pond doesn't have any echo flowers growing from it. It's nothing special, either. Just… a standard and semi-little pond with a slim waterfall going into it.
I mean… sure, it's beautiful and mesmerizing as is everything here, but I'm still confused.
He stands, just to pivot on his heel, salute to me, and then drops backwards into the pool.
…
WHAT?
I reflexively braced and turned to best hide from the incoming splash of water, but… nothing hit me. Not even a droplet, as far as I could feel.
…That's not how that law of physics works. That's not how water displacement works!
…
No, there's an odd sheen to the surface of it. And the waterfall isn't… really hitting it? Despite obviously hitting it, it's not? It's not bouncing off or anything either, it's just falling straight into it with no displacements or—I can't explain this.
It's like there's not even a body of water here for the waterfall to hit. The fall is going straight through it like it's just a hole in the ground. But I can see there's something here. Something like water, but apparently not???
—Magic is hard to explain. Magic pond?
Where is Sans?
…
..
Well, I'm not going in there to find out. I have alternatives, like technology!
If that's not water, I bet he can respond to a text.
I reach behind my back to grab at my Inventory, drawing my phone out of that dimensional space.
Not that I need to go behind my back, it just feels comfortable that way. Also looks cooler.
[Ay lmao where you at?]
…
He read it. But he's not responding. Ookay? I guess he's busy, wherever he went. Is there something down there?
I don't… really want to bend down onto my knees to get an even closer look, but I guess I might have to?
I still don't want to get wet. Snowdin's forest doesn't play with that cold.
Maybe I can get away with very carefully crouching? Yeah, this works—oh, there's Sans! I think. There's a lack of his blue hoodie down there, but what else could that blurry shape be?
…The shape is getting bigger, he's coming back up. Without his hoodie? How did he lose it?
He latches his hands onto the edge to heft himself up, breaks what would have been the surface of the water, but there's no break. Still no displacement.
And no buoyancy, either? Not that there's much to him, but surely he would have used his magic to aid his way back up. But no, he climbed out. Again, like that's not water, like there's not even anything there.
But there must be something there—a cushion—because he fell backwards into it without a worry. You wouldn't tip off a cliff like that.
He makes a dramatic showing of wiping the sweat or water from his forehead, sliding a hand across to the back of his skull like he's pushing rowdy and drenched hair away from his eyes.
And then, readjusting his grip on the pond's edge, he gains some form of buoyancy at the last moment and allows himself to float onto his stomach, positioning his limbs into some star?
But there's no smell of his magic. So he's not giving himself that weightlessness. There is something I am fundamentally not understanding about what's going on with this stupid pond.
"okay, so i know it looks bad—"
"Uh-huh?"
"i need you to get in the water with me."
I do like how not wet he is, which is the one thing I was looking to accomplish, but what I don't like is how fucking bizarre this is.
Maybe crazy would be a better word? No. Ominous.
I place my hands on my knees to get ready to stand, "What's in it for me?" And then I do stand. But I had been crouched for so long that my legs had fallen asleep, which I wasn't ready for.
With nothing to catch myself on, I fall forward into the water with Sans.
…I feel weightless and heavy at the same time. There's a tightness in my chest, but I'm breathing so unhindered.
All I see is the blue of the water, what should be water, but isn't. There's also not really a blue hue to what liquid this is. If it's even considered to be a liquid. It's blue, but it's not? It's liquid, but it's not? Would misty or foggy be a better description?
I can breathe this in, but it's odd. Thick like a dangerous fog, but so clean.
What is this? What did Sans discover?
Where is he? It's difficult to see, my eyes aren't taking any of this in. I'm not processing this well. Like, physically and literally? I feel like I should be hearing something, too, but there's nothing.
I smell something sweet, but also something that's more memory than a real scent?
Am I just tripping balls right now?
A person's arm hooks under my shoulder from directly behind me, and I'm tugged. Sans, I'm assuming.
We're… flipped? Despite how hard it is to figure out where I am, some instinctive part of me knows that we're upside down.
We breach the surface, or… Yeah, no, there's a surface to breach this time. The water moves away from us as we rise for air I didn't end up needing, and the first thing I notice is I'm still dry.
The second thing I notice is that we're not where we were just a moment ago.
…This can't be Waterfall.
How do I begin to describe this place?
...Maybe to start—this is huge. A cavern as tall and wide and open as its supporting pillars allow, nearly the height of the castle, the length and width of Snowdin's grand forest, and by the stars it's so well-lit.
Crystals the same as those above Waterfall cover this place's ceiling, except every crystal here is the size of a home.
Their glows emit a heat, which I don't think I'm meant to be able to tell, but I can feel the warmth is originating from them.
It's so, so comfortable.
And... back to the pillars keeping this cavern in place, they're... something is wrong with them?
They're not made of stone is what I'm trying to get at, but I can't tell what I'm seeing.
There's a few pats on the top of my head, carefully ruffling my hair.
...Ah, we're still floating in the pool of 'water'.
"let's get out." He declares from where he was pressed behind me, where he was supporting me.
With the help of his magic, he lifts me out of the pool and onto solid ground right beside it.
I don't wait to see how he gets out—There's more to this place I couldn't see in the water.
Finally alike Waterfall, this cavern is absolutely caked in various bodies of water. We're on some elevated cliff, which there's many of against these walls, so I can get a really good look at what's here.
Like… I don't know, a valley tucked in between mountains? Except those mountains are just cave walls with elevated platforms smattered about.
Where there's open and flat space, waters are shaped like rice fields. On the other cliffsides I'm able to look down on from here, there's clusters of little circular pools, just like the one we came from.
And every inkling of water is paired with its own waterfall coming from above through the ceiling, even our's we emerged from.
And the colors. Blues, purples, beautiful. And is that… there's specks of gold flickering about…? Fireflies, maybe?
This is not the Underground I know. The charm is different.
"is the tree not as exciting as the cave walls?" He asks from somewhere just behind me with a… conflicted or confused tone?
Also, what trees? There's no… well, I guess now that I'm looking a little closer, there is some flora. Bushes, uhh… Grass or whatever. Weeds—love weeds. But trees? There are no trees, at least as far as I can see, which is very far.
Aside from the still-weird columns blocking a few views, there's… no trees that I'm seeing.
I turn to look back to Sans, who has apparently donned his jacket once more, but he's looking at something past me.
…
There's a sparkle to his eyes, like whatever he's looking at is more magnificent than this place. Like there's something only seen from a dream, maybe. But I don't see what he's seeing?
That glimmer to his lights remains as we lock eyes—odd, but okay—and I watch his shoulders tense like he's just realized something.
Yeah. I don't know what you're seeing, dude. You've left me really confused over here. I want to know what's got your panties wet, don't leave me out of this.
He 'ports right to my side, latching his grubby hands onto either side of my head and moving it into place, directing my vision at… what, the center of this whole place?
"that. that big ass tree. the one that looks like an echo flower, but it's a tree."
…Huh? There's—nothing's there. Is it small or something? No, wait, he just said it's big. Whatever he's referring to, I genuinely can not see. There's something he's seeing that I literally can't. I shake my head 'no' the best I could with how he was holding it, and his posture only stiffens in response.
His hands slowly fall from me, back to his sides, and his eyes are wide. Wide with… that amazed scientist look he gets when he finds out something really cool. His smile upticks, too.
"you can't see it?" He asks yet again, this time with contained excitement than concern. But before I could consider answering, he snatches the fabric of my top and tugs me through a teleport.
With refined practice, I blink the Void away and reorient myself as fast as him. And we're… in the middle of the valley, the very center.
Hm, I'm still not close enough to those pillars to see what's so different about them. In fact, we're not close to anything. This little circular space of land is barren, aside from some large mound in the middle?
…No. No, there's… there is something there. High in the air above that mound, there is fruit hanging from nothing.
Like there is a tree here, and that tree is absolutely splattered in fruit from every of its branches, but I can't see the tree itself.
What even is that type of fruit? I've… never seen anything like it. Despite the Underground being such a magic-infused place, most fruits and vegetables are standard from what you'd see Aboveground—I mean, sure, there are vegetations unique to here—but they're always some mutation of the regulars.
These look brand new.
Sans comes up to stand right to my side, a little in front of me to look at my face, like I'm the subject of study, "what do you see?"
"…Fruit. But I don't have anything to properly compare it to? Like… I dunno, I guess if a raspberry were the size of my head, but… a circular raspberry? Round like an orange, with every of its tiny little berry pieces not so little, but the size of strawberries. And it's purple as hell."
I tilt my gaze back to his, which is so piercing. I'm glad the bugger is enjoying himself at my expense…
He turns the palm of his hand upward, this lighting making the blue of his magic look rosemary at his fingertips, and he telekinetically draws a fruit to his grasp. Or… the best grasp he could get, considering its size.
He quietly offers it to me.
…Girl, I ain't eating that without any word from you. Can a hoe get an explanation around here? "Bro, you've gone full scientist on my ass. Also, that's literally so ominous, I'm not touching that thang."
"…huh?"
I flick my wrist out to… where the tree is, I guess? I'm assuming that mound is actually where its trunk and whatnot is. "You want me to eat the magic fruit from a magic tree that is only magically visible to you? Heeell no, that's how you give me a heart attack."
Sans is silent for another moment before his lights widen the slightest of fractions, and he lowers the odd raspberry away from me. "ok, yeah i see what you mean."
He cracks it open like a coconut with the help of magic, and… reaches inside the somewhat hollow space to pull out a small marble? What the hell is up with this fruit? "it is fine to eat, though." He pops the little thing in his mouth, casually chewing while picking up a handful for his next grab.
I don't hear anything crunching in his mouth. I guess it's not a marble? Berry shaped like a marble, or whatever.
This time, he offers the bite-sized berries to me, "it's really sweet, and makes me feel light. like, something relaxing? super harmless, i promise."
"What, like weed?"
"—wu-what? oh, burgerpants."
Mm, forgot Sans was smart. Better go ahead and swallow one before he asks any more questions.
…
Interesting. It's really super soft on the inside, but the skin of it is a little chewy? Had to sort of work for it, but it didn't take a lot before it popped. Or… wasn't really a 'pop'.
But I don't know what this tastes like. Sweet, sure, but I don't have anything to compare it to?
I swallow.
…
There's a flashbang of blue in my peripheral, and my second mistake was reflexively looking right up at the blinding light, whatever it was that just assaulted my vision.
It's a tree. Or… No, is this an echo flower? An echo towering as high as the limit of the castle, brushing the ceiling of this cavern with its branches that carry leaves the same blue, luminescent petals as a flower.
What, like… an oak tree? An echo flower shaped like the most ancient oak tree in existence.
…Its trunk and branches aren't wood, I don't think. Where have I seen this odd, uh, material from? Material's not the word, but I can't think of a better one. What is supposed to be wood or bark or whatever looks more like a twined rope? I'm confused. Braided? I guess, like, braids and twists and twines that make the trunk and branches.
I didn't really notice I was walking up to it until I brushed my hand along the trunk, the braid, but whatever. It feels like wood, but something a little softer? Like when you feel up drenched wood and notice a give to it. But it's not wet.
There's a whistle, or a whine it emits as I touch and guide my hand along it. A song? Like it's trying to hum a tune at me. Something familiar, something you'd recognize as a mother's lullaby, but I wasn't sung lullabies to as a child, so these memories and references aren't mine.
They're a lovely remembrance, regardless.
"it's what i've called the 'echo tree'. and from what i've learned, it's the root of all echo flowers. quite literally, actually," He gets back next to me and runs his hand on the trunk next to mine, "the tree is made of roots. the roots from every echo flower in waterfall."
…
"the twisting roots are also what the columns everywhere are made of. you'd think that they're what connects the flowers from above through the ceiling, to the tree, but they're actually not! we're upside down. waterfall is back below our feet.
"y'know that pond we had to swim to the 'bottom' of? to get here, i mean. and how it took two-three hours to find it, because i had to check out like sixty other bodies of water? the entrance here changes at random times. it's never been at the same pool twice, as far as i'm aware!—well, i would guess it has, because there's only a finite amount of waters, but i've personally never been through the same water twice since discovering this place. there also doesn't appear to be a pattern? but also it's only been ninety-seven days since finding this place. i assume it'll take many, many more months of coming back here, in order to find a pattern? if there even is a pattern, i mean—"
I remove my hands from the tree to slap one over his mouth, "Sans."
We both kind of just quietly stare at each other, my hand still keeping him silent. Well… that silence is all his doing, really. I'm not even putting any pressure with my hand.
"If you keep talking without break, I'm going to get confused and lost. I know you don't need to breathe, but I implore you to take one."
…He sheepishly nods, the movement coaxing my loose hand to fall from his face.
I take another little berry that he was apparently still holding for himself, "So, you wanna tell me what sound it's making? Is that 'song' a recording?"
He gets giddy all over again, grabbing my hand from the back of it, locking his phalanges through mine and moving my palm and fingertips to up against the tree again.
I hear the hum.
"that noise—'music', or whatever adjective you think would best describe it—is the coagulation of every prayer, wish, desire, dream, word, everything every echo flower has ever heard."
"Like a choir?"
"yes!!"
"…How do you know that?"
He presses my hand into it a little harder, the tips of his phalanges somewhat digging into the skin of the upper part of my palm, but that modest bite of discomfort is replaced by the buzz of his magic he's moving through our hands.
It's dense. More concentrated than what I typically see of him. Like he is actually struggling to do whatever it is he's trying to do—
There's a sigh in a feminine voice that's not us, "—I wish the—"
I freak, trying to pull away to look around, but Sans keeps me in place and at the tree, "wait. listen."
Another voice, a different woman, "—I love you,—"
A man, "—She made me a—"
…What is this? Is it coming from the tree?
"if you focus, you can pick apart the choir's voices, but only bits and pieces. i would think that, if with enough concentration and practice, we could pick apart the wholes of individual wishes. but for now all i can get are mixed words from a lot of different flowers. lot of different voices."
…
Different voice, "—Was something that I—"
I finally swallow that other berry, that I had apparently forgotten to and have been absentmindedly chewing the past five minutes.
"That's… something, alright."
He holds in a laugh, letting my hand go, and I let it fall from the tree, "that's a good way of putting it."
There's a different type of buzz of magic.
…
…Uh? That wasn't Sans. I know his magic, and that didn't come from him.
Why does it feel like I'm upside down again?
Like, that weird experience back at the pond, when Sans had flipped us around to come into this place. That weightlessness I felt then, but I'm still standing upright, and I'm obviously not in any body of water right now.
It's… kind of relaxing, though?
Sans makes some… panicked, gibberish shout? It sounded like he came from below me, which doesn't make any sense?
Yes, I'm taller by a considerable milestone, but he's not an ant.
Something hard collides with the top of my head, but it had a little give, so it didn't hurt as bad as it should've.
Wasn't anything 'ow' enough for me to whip out my freak-o-meter, but what did hit that whip was me hitting a second, higher branch.
'Higher' as in I am OFF the ground and at the bottommost branches.
'Higher' as in there's the weight of Sans's gravity acceleration catching me in time, preventing me from flying deeper into the echo tree.
'Higher' as in something has gone horribly wrong, and I am just… levitating in place. In the air. Flying. My knees reflexively scrunch, and I sort of end up in some panicked ball, coated by the blue of the tree and the blue of Sans's magic.
What do I do? What happened?
…Was it the magic fruit that I knew I shouldn't have eaten? What in the LATE REACTION?
"…so. that's not what i meant when i said it made me feel light." He very audibly lets out a huff of a breath, like he was more freaked out than me.
"—You have me, right?!" How about some hurry in bringing me back down to you, please!! Save the casualness for AFTER I'm back on the ground!
He flexes his hand—nothing strained, which is a nice sign that he's in control—and I slowly float downward, right to him and away from the tree and its branches.
He reaches out both arms to me as soon as I'm within distance, "you're safe, i promise. un-hug your legs so i can grab you."
I do, and he does. His hands lock on either side of my waist while I'm still a few feet in the air, and he pulls me to his level, although my feet still hover over the ground. I don't need to, but to feel better, I rest my hands onto his shoulders to 'balance' myself.
This is like, what, some Disney princess moment? I guess it stopped being scary, too.
"knock knock."
…
..
"No?"
He gets a little giggly at that cautious rejection, and he pulls me much closer, holding me to him in a hug. His lights are bright and lax in contentment, so I can only naturally assume that I'll really be okay. "wanna go back to your place? i say we make the most of this, and you walk on your ceiling."
…That does sound kind of exciting. "You're positive this is temporary?"
"if it doesn't go away on its own—which…okay—" He loosens his grip on my sides enough so that we're making eye contact at a comfortable distance, "i've been eating these fruits a long time for my research, and although i've never lost gravity, or have had anything different happen than that relaxation i told you about, my effects have always been temporary. like, i'm talkin' three hours temporary.
"if, after three-five hours, you're still experiencing the full effects of this, i am still positive you'll be okay. i know this is weird, and i know i'm not outwardly worried, but that's because i really do believe nothing is going to happen to you. i would not have offered that fruit to you if i remotely thought you would be injured."
That… does make me feel so, so much better.
My relaxed smile must've given him an all-clear he was searching for, because he carefully twirls me around in the air a little before hugging me to him again, chest-to-chest with his arms fully around my middle, "ready to get out of here? or you wanna stay longer?"
"We can always come back, right? I'd like to with you."
He cocks a cute little smile, "what, is that a second date? liked this one that much?"
…
This was a fucking what?
He looks at me, and I look at him. And he looks at me some more.
Is he serious? That didn't sound like it was a joke—he has a very, very specific tone of voice when he makes a joke. Like, something so barely subtle and monotone, and he even makes this crinkle of his eyesockets when he jokes. He didn't do any of those tells.
Or unless I missed the memo? Maybe I missed the scrunch, the voice shift, the lax of his shoulders, the change in his smile? Was there anything I noticed?
…No. No, he looks confused by my confusion.
I think he was serious.
"…This was a what?" I ask aloud this time. Confirming. That's what you do when your friend of so many years says they like you, right? You confirm? Casually confirm.
…
He lets go, apparently forgetting that I was depending on him to keep me from flying off—I snatch at his jacket, and pull myself right back to him before I could drift upward.
Sans stumbles from the collision I had to make, and I genuinely can't help but continue to hold on.
Some panicked instincts in him must've kicked in, because he grabs me and we're taken into the Void before we could fall to the ground.
We drift in that pocket of space, him now floating along with me, only a handhold keeping us together now.
After a moment of silence, like we both really don't know what to say—I certainly don't—he starts speaking.
And I can't hear, because we're still in the Void.
He realizes his critical error with a flush of embarrassment, and my next blink greets the brown of my cabin walls. The living room, where the empty fireplace is already crying out for me to set a flame.
Sans must've noticed the way I immediately zeroed in on the cold of my home, and he seriously must be scatterbrained right this moment, because he makes a move to guide me to my couch, "i'll get the fire going for you—"
I grab a handful of the couch as leverage, and then a handful of his hand, stopping him. Keeping him on track, as much as I think I'd actually rather not just to save myself potential embarrassment. "Sans, was that a date?"
He stiffens, eyelights constricting enough to be noticeable if you're up close. But he's not pulling away, either. In fact, his hand even lightly squeezes mine after a second.
"ah, um… yes, it was. for me, at least, i mean. but it's cool if that's not what you're interested in! like, really, that was my mistake for not making it obvious, so it's really cool if you want to call that a hangout. i'm cool if you're cool."
He's downplaying everything to save himself conflict, but he's not being as suave about it as usual. Sans is actually panicking over this?
…
"Hey."
..
"…hey?"
I do my best to stand, using my hold on Sans's hand to kind of support myself upward. He places his free hand on my side to steady me, which I really appreciate. Floating is hard.
"Mind helping me get the fire going? We can plan something after."
He nods before he could stop himself to actually think about it.
I guess he's liked me for a while, huh?