“We’ve heard he loves Legend of Zelda,” Frisk said. A small boy on the edge of an adventure, with pride in his heart and hardness in his resolve. He opened his locket, seeing his master’s face inside, and his heart filled with determination. “I must get him the perfect present. Link-themed, perhaps?”
He stared into the Underworld, the place where he’d once completed the True Pacifist route after much trial. “It takes a lot to do this again, but I’ll do it for him.” Frisk braced himself to jump into the same hole that he had fallen into just 3 years ago.
“Wait!”
Frisk turned around to see who had yelled at him. It was a silhouette in the distance against the sunset; Frisk judged he was a teenager or in his early twenties.
“Don’t jump in there, my friend,” the knight said, “I know where that place leads.”
The teenager walked towards Frisk, revealing knight’s attire: Heavy Armour and longsword, the whole deal. Frisk had never met a knight before. He was young and handsome.
“I passed by this place a couple years ago,” he said, “While I was looking for the Deepwood Temple. That hole has dark, dangerous vibes.”
“I know,” Frisk said. “I’ve been there before.”
“What is your name?” the man said.
“My name is Frisk,” Frisk said tentatively. “What is yours?”
“I am a prince,” the man said, “and I am looking for a Christmas present for my friend.”
“The only prince I know around these parts is a tyrant and an outlaw,” Frisk said.
The man smiled. “Those are merely lies. My name is Issac, and I have killed no-one except the slimes that surround my village.”
Frisk frowned. “The name Issac rings a bell too. Fortunately for you, I have taken a vow never to kill a soul.”
“Again, they’re lies. But I guess that I cannot change your mind.”
Frisk reevaluated. “Try me.”
Issac stood surprised, testing Frisk’s motivations.
Frisk sighed. “There are activities and practices that I have seen in this land that don’t add up to me,” he said. “Sights I wish I could unsee. It’s hard to believe anything the kingdom tells us anymore. The idea that you are an outlaw and a tyrant… this could be similar.”
“It is,” Issac said. “Almost everything the kingdom says is a lie designed to encapture the masses, to tickle their ears with comfortable untruths.”
Frisk scoffed. Then frowned. “If what you say is true, then there is a lot I need to reevaluate.”
“Perhaps I can help you then,” Issac said, “To prove myself. I have a bottle of Azure Wine, some Magic Herbs and Spiced Tea. Feel free to help yourself.” And he tossed his bag on a nearby rock.
Frisk smiled. “Ooh, Azure Wine. That’s a Lariol Village specialty, isn’t it?”
“Something like that,” Issac said.
“Mind if I help myself?” Frisk asked.
Issac shrugged as if to say yes. Frisk hopped over to the rock with the bag, grabbed the bottle, and poured himself a quick glass.
“A little guy like me can get tipsy quite quickly,” Frisk said. “That’s why I never pour large glasses. But you’re quite big for a young one.”
“How old do you think I am?”
“Late thirties,” Frisk said.
“And you consider that young?” Issac replied.
“Certainly ten times younger than most of my friends,” Frisk said.
Issac chuckled. “I’m even younger than you suggest.”
Frisk smiled. “So young, and with so much experience already.”
Frisk looked at him in apprehension. “Which friend are you looking to buy for?”
“A developer by the name of Zephire.”
Frisk’s eyes widened. “Master?”
“You know him too?” Issac exclaimed. “To most he’s a myth. But to me, he’s more than that.”
Frisk slumped. “Me too. It’s a shame I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Yes, he has disappeared somewhat recently,” Issac replied. “What, with the wars and all, his guidance would’ve been much appreciated.”
Frisk looked up at Issac with curiosity. “Hey, can I ask you something.”
“Certainly, friend.”
“Can you… actually see Zephire?”
Issac scrunched up his face a bit at this. “Well, of course I see him.”
The young knight looked out at the sunset horizon. “I see him in the trees, I feel him in the air. In everything, he is present. I will offer my gift at his altar because he has the only solution to my plight. May Zephire be praised.”
Frisk looked downward. “Do you think he hears us?”
“I am sure he hears and sees everything,” Issac replied, looking up at Frisk hopefully. “I choose to believe that he dictates whatever our adventures are, wherever we may step foot. And that we are safe within his hand.”
Frisk looks up at Issac. “I do hope he is a good being. That he treats us well. Pays attention to us. Visits us often. And not just at Christmas.”
Issac smiled. “I’m sure he does. He cares about us very much. And he always will.”