#droughtale lore

Introduction: Promises

--

The soul I cradle, how I wish it were my own

It glows with warmth; a monarch, settled on their throne

I cry to the heavens, begging for your hand

In a world of dark, how shall I stand?

--

Rain poured down the glass windows of the car. Every drop came down with such unspeakable force, leaving a slamming pitter-patter that rung heavy in every passengers’ ears.

Most people would take the rain as a sign of the world – or God – grieving. Especially after such a tragic event...but Celest didn’t take it that way.

To her, the rain was a comforting thing. A reminder of walking to the store under an umbrella, huddled against the legs of her sister...her kind, gentle sister. The one who hummed lullabies, using the rain drops as a melody for their song. The one who spun Celest around as the water splashed against them. The one who scooped her onto their back, and burst into a sprint, jumping into every puddle that crossed their path.

Celest smiled because of the rain. It reminded her of what little childhood joy she had. What little childhood joy her parents hadn’t stripped away.

‘But in the end, they still did strip it all away,” Celest thought bitterly, “Frisk is dead now, and its all their fault.’

Celest bit down the anger, though it was difficult to do. But she, by no means, was going to freak out in front of her sweet babygirl.

Speaking of which, she looked to the backseat. Junebug sat in the back, hugging their brown Labrador named Asgore, sniffling and crying into his fur. Celest felt her heart tighten painfully, and she wished she knew what to say; anything, really, to help her sweet baby feel any better. She wracked her mind for comforting words...

But her thoughts came up empty.

Chara was in the backseat, too. And, although Junebug could not see them nor feel them, they were hugging her. It was such a miniscule, typical form of comfort, but Celest still felt grateful. Grateful that they cared enough to look out for their niece, even when she was completely unaware of their existence...

She had only known them for one day, but she already understood what Frisk saw in them. They’re gentle. They're kind. They're protective. They’re empathetic.

‘They’re everything my parents weren’t.’

“Loveling,” Markson whispered, gently placing one of his hands on Celest’s shoulder, while keeping the other on the wheel. Celest snapped out of her thoughts, turning her head so fast that she felt her wet hair slap against her face, hard enough to sting.

“Perhaps...” Markson side-eyed her, “You should take a few more days to rest at home...? It’s never too late to turn the car around, love.”

A pang of guilt struck through Celest’s chest. She hated lying to her husband and daughter about this...but if they knew what her true goal was...if they knew what she had hidden inside of her backpack...they would be a lot more stressed than they already were, which was the last thing she needed right now.

“...I’m sorry...I just...I need a few days to myself...” she leaned over, kissing his cheek, “I’ll be back in at least five days. It’s just...staying at home right now...I just...I need somewhere away to collect myself.”

Markson gently grabbed ahold of her hand. He momentarily took his eyes off the road – the street was straight and empty, anyways – and looked at her. Celest felt heat rise to her face...even after knowing him for a little over eight years, his emerald-green eyes still were fully capable of bringing her to her knees.

“I understand, loveling...just...take it easy, okay?” he brought his hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on each of her knuckles, “Don’t forget to take care of yourself. If you need me to, I could text you reminders, or call in every few hours, or-”

“Honey,” Celest gently interrupted, squeezing his hand, “I’ll remember...I promise.”

He calmed down immediately, releasing a sigh of relief. He knew she was being truthful; Celest was taught to never break a promise. It was a legacy implanted in her head by Frisk that she was dedicated to keeping, and her husband knew it well.

“I trust you,” Markson replied, his tone gentle and loving. It’s something he always said when Celest made a promise; a reminder that he loves her enough to put his faith into her.

“I know.”

The rest of the car ride to Ebott city’s train-station was mostly silent, aside from the quiet sniffles, dog whimpers, and “good boy” mutterings that came from Junebug and Asgore in the back seat.

The rain continued pouring heavy, even after Markson parked outside the station. Celest unbuckled, but she didn’t dare exit the car yet – she still had to say her temporary farewells.

She climbed onto Markson’s lap, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his face into her neck, and muttering “I love you.”

Celest gently kissed his forehead, whispering “I love you too” in response, before pulling away and kissing his lips, “I’ll call you in a few days, when I’m ready to be picked up.”

He gave her another kiss before responding, “And I’ll have my phone nearby. Always.”

Celest pressed her forehead against his momentarily. The couple sighed in union, before she carefully got off his lap.

Celest grabbed her backpack, slipping it on. She climbed into the back of the car and scooped Junebug and Asgore into her lap. Junebug looked up at her, eyes shimmering with tears, and her nose and cheeks red from crying. Seeing her four-year-old daughter full of grief...its something Celest hated. She never wanted a child so young to suffer; not after she and Frisk went through the same.

But there was no way to turn back time now. What happened...it was creeping up on them, making itself known as Frisk’s mental and physical state worsened. It had been inevitable, no matter how much Celest wished it wasn’t. And as much as she hated it, she once again was forced to face the consequences of her parents’ actions...and for the first time, her daughter had to as well.

“Babygirl,” Celest began, to which Junebug gripped Celest’s shirt, “I know how hard this is for you...and how scary this is...and I’m so sorry for leaving, especially so soon after this happened...”

Gently, Celest places a kiss on her daughter’s head, “But I’ll tell you this...when I come back we can go pick flowers at Uncle Marvin and Auncle Daris’s house...and bring them to Frisk’s place of rest.”

Junebug sniffles, looking up at Celest with her sweet brown eyes. Celest’s heart felt as though it was breaking all over again.

“...chu give a Mama pwomise?” Junebug whispers, to which Celest leans down and kisses her nose, before rubbing her nose against Junebug’s, causing the girl to giggle.

“You have my Mama promise,” Celest said sincerely. Even her four-year-old knew how important promises are to her...Celest felt proud of that fact.

“Oki...chu can go,” Junebug states, as if Celest didn’t have permission to leave before that. Celest couldn’t help but laugh, planting kisses all over Junebug’s face, which caused her to squeel.

“You take care of Asgore while I’m gone, okay?”

Junebug hugged Asgore’s head, nodding enthusiastically. Celest hugged them both, before sliding open the van’s door, and slipping out, opening her umbrella.

Markson slide open the front window, blowing a kiss out the door, giving her the same sad-puppy eyes he always gave when they had to be apart.

“I love you!” he shouted.

“I wuv chu!” Junebug followed up.

“I love you so much!” Celest responded. She did the ASL sign for ‘I love you’ as they slowly drove away. She saw them both sign it back.

Once the car was out of sight, she waited by the train station for five more minutes, just in case they came back. Chara floated at her side, resting their head on her shoulder. The two had grown quite close the last week...ever since Frisk gave Celest their soul, she had been able to see them.

At first, it was weird and frightening to meet someone that nobody else could see...someone that knew her like the back of their hand...someone that Frisk apparently married (albeit not legally, since you can’t marry someone who is dead). But as Chara explained their situation to her, more and more things made sense.

Frisk used to talk to themself. It was something they only began doing after their return from the mountain. Celest thought that it was because of their brain injury, from their parents’ punishment when they came home...but she now knew different.

In a way, it relieved her...it allowed her to know that even when she and her little family couldn’t spare the time to be with Frisk as they were deteriorating, they still had someone they could trust. And despite only officially meeting Chara within the week, she knew with confidence that she not only trusted them with her life, but loved them, too. They were like a sibling to her...and it made her happy to know that, technically, they were her sibling-in-law (at least, by heart.)

“Are you ready?” Chara asked, gently rubbing Celest’s back. Instead of responding, she opened her backpack with the hand she wasn’t using to hold the umbrella. And although it was dim and cracked, Frisk’s soul radiated from the plastic jar she had carefully packed, along with her hiking supplies, water, and spare food.

She closed her eyes, taking in Frisk's presence...it was as if they were holding her hand...after a moment of this, she shut the bag once more, throwing it around her shoulders. She could feel the faint tingle of her sister's warm DETERMINATION trickling its way into Celest's soul.

“Yes,” she responded with confidence, “Lead the way.”