Together Alone
Prompt: Yearning
Fandom: Deltarune/Undertale
Summary: Seam encounters another human affected by the sealing of all monsters underground.
“You're one of them! One of the magicians!”
Seam’s fingers tightened around their cup. The excitable teen in front of them stared with sparkling eyes. They wished he wouldn't.
The chatter around them died away as the eyes of the pub’s other patrons turned to look at them, waiting for their response.
They tugged at their brown cloak, the fur lining tickling their neck, ran a hand through their scruffy purple hair, and smiled wanly. “...Yes, I suppose I am.”
The teen broke out into a wide grin. “That’s so cool! What was it like? Did the monsters fight back?”
Seam let their one eye wander across the room, gauging the mood of the room. Several faces stared with awe, others with careful curiosity. A few cast pitying gazes. A few turned away with disgust. One man in the back of the room locked eyes with them behind thick glasses, then quickly averted his gaze.
“It was a group effort. I was but one of many, and it came at a great cost.” To demonstrate, Seam held up their hand. A few weak sparks jumped onto the table, dying away. It was all they could manage, and they knew soon they wouldn’t be able to do that. It was only a matter of time before the last, sputtering fumes of human magic died out. “It was just the way it had to be.”
One of the lad’s companions pushed his way to the front. “Please, let me buy you a drink! It would be an honor for a war hero such as yourself! I’m sure everyone would love to hear more!”
Seam didn't respond right away, taking a final swig of their drink and reaching into a satchel beneath their cloak to pull out a handful of coins, depositing them on the table.
“It's kind of you to offer,” Seam said, reaching for their staff — now little more than a glorified walking stick, “but I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I'm hardly a hero, after all. There were no winners in the war.”
After giving a bow to the patrons, they slipped out the door and into the dark of the night.
Gas lamps lit the main thoroughfare, casting the cobblestone street in an orange glow. Seam hurried down the road, their staff clicking each time it made contact with the stone. Exhaustion tugged at the back of their mind. Given they’d been recognized, it seemed like it was probably time to move on from this town. A shame; they’d quite liked the amenities. Perhaps they could still stock up on tea and a book in the morning before leaving. For now, they just wanted to sleep. It seemed like that was all they cared to do these days.
As they rounded a corner, back towards the inn they’d been staying at, their footsteps slowed. They could hear another set of footsteps coming closer. Someone was following them. Tightening their grip on their staff, they took a quick look at their surroundings before starting to walk again. Best to take this somewhere private. Away from prying eyes, in case it got messy.
Seam turned down a narrow sidestreet, walking far enough that they were enveloped in darkness, with only a spattering of torchlight and the moon to illuminate the scene. Only then did they stop.
“I know you’re following me,” they called without turning. “You may as well hurry it up.”
The sound of racing footsteps followed, pausing just a few feet away. They heard a shuffling noise, followed by the click of a gun before they felt cold metal pressed to the small of their back.
Seam smiled wryly. Surviving the war only to be gunned down by a human anyway. What a way that would be to go. “You should know this isn’t the first time I’ve had an attempt on my life. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
“That’s none of your business.” The voice was masculine, seething with anger.
“Will it bring you peace, to kill?” The stranger didn’t respond. “Whoever it was you lost, it won’t bring them back.”
A hand roughly grabbed their shoulder, spinning them around before shoving them against the wall. The back of Seam’s head knocked against the brick. They grit their teeth, focusing on taking the stranger in. Although it was dark, they could make out some features.
Seam was by no means short, but the man had a good six inches on them, at least. He was lanky and dark in complexion, with pale, tightly curled hair that came down to his chin. His eyes hid behind thick glasses. Seam recognized him as one of the patrons from the pub.
“Well? Will you humor me with your name?”
The man stuck the pistol beneath Seam’s chin. His other hand kept Seam pressed against the wall, bunched in their cloak. When he spoke, they could smell alcohol on his breath.
“Hah hah. I think you’ve talked enough, magician!”
“What else do I have left, but my voice?”
“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”
“I’ve been told it’s one of my many flaws.” Seam chuckled humorlessly. “By all means, kill me if it makes you happy. I’ve been waiting to die for a while now. I’ve not much to live for these days. But if you’d prefer, I’d much rather have this conversation over a cup of tea, mister…”
The hand with the gun trembled. The man grit his teeth. “Anthony. Anthony Tenna. You took everything from me, you and the rest of those magicians.”
Seam’s expression shifted from a dark smile to pity. “Your name is familiar. You were a lord, before the war, were you not? Tell me who you lost.”
“You like to play mind games, don’t you?” Anthony accused. “Is that how you’ve evaded justice for so long?”
Seam let out a dramatic sigh. “Your guess is as good as mine. Who was it? Who were they to you, Ant?”
Anthony yanked them forward, so that they were standing forehead to forehead. “
Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that!”
Whack!
In one fluid motion, Seam smacked Anthony with their staff. He let go, gun clattering to the ground.
“You’re not alone in your loss,” Seam said, taking a step back to pick up the flintlock pistol. They stashed it in their cloak. “We only did what we had to, to end the war. Even among the magicians, there were those of us that lost friends. Lovers, even. Including myself. I’d be happy to talk to you about it over tea. I’ll even give you your pistol back, when we’re done. It’s up to you.”
Anthony didn’t seem satisfied with that, as he lunged for Seam again. “Why aren’t you afraid?”
“Dearest Mr. Tenna, I have lived through a war and had to help seal my beloved away. I lost my magic as a consequence. I do not fear the day the reaper comes for me. Why would I ever be afraid of a solitary sad man with a gun?” They turned and started to walk. “Come now, the inn I’m staying at is this way. You may join me if you wish.”
It brought the smallest amount of joy to Seam’s cold and empty heart to hear footsteps follow them.
Neither of them spoke again until the tea was served, aside from asking how much sugar Mr. Tenna took his tea with.
Only once they were both seated, each with a steaming cup sitting in front of them, the teapot sitting between them at the center of the table, did Seam continue the conversation.
“So,” they began, cupping their hands around their tea, “I've heard a bit about you. A disgraced lord that spent his fortune outfitting the monsters. The only thing that saved you from the noose for treachery was your title, but in the end you lost all your possessions.” They paused, looking over the vivid red tailcoat Anthony was wearing, even if it was disheveled from their scuffle. “Well, almost everything.”
“Please, you don't know the first thing about me.” Anthony leaned back, and Seam could only imagine he was rolling his eyes behind those thick frames.
“Oh? Please enlighten me. What part of the story is false?”
Anthony clenched his jaw and didn't say anything at first, reaching down for his cup to take a sip of tea. Afterwards, he smiled, brow knit together. “There was never any arrest or trial. Could you imagine that? Me, in bindings, paraded around like some sort of… sort of… common criminal? No, I left under the cover of night. But I'm sure you understand that I can't go back. Nor can I let you spread knowledge that I’m here.
That would be a disaster.”
“Yes, I'm sure it would be.” Seam leaned back cup in one hand and saucer in the other. They took a long draw of the tea. “Now then, the night isn't getting any younger.”
Anthony’s expression shifted, playful anger replaced with exhaustion that made his shoulders slump. He said nothing.
“Perhaps it would help if I told you my story first,” Seam said after a moment. “I used to travel with a band of street performers, a mix of human and monster magicians and the sort. I had a partner in my act, a monster who wasn't afraid to take risks for the sake of providing entertainment. He was incredible.”
They closed their eye, picturing their time on the stage, traveling the land. “I never met any other human or monster like him. Not a day goes by that I don't miss that handsome devil.”
“Then why did you help them?” Anthony’s voice cracked. “Why help create the barrier?”
Seam couldn't help the bitter exhaustion that seeped into their tone. “The monsters were fighting a losing battle and they knew it. The sealing was the only way to ensure their survival. At least… that’s what I tell myself.” Seam sighed and shook their head. “But I admit, without his light, I find my worldview growing darker, yet darker, and I wonder if there was any way to prevent this.”
They elected not to burden Mr. Tenna with the rest of their story, the way the war changed Jevil, or the dreams he'd shared with Seam in the months leading up to The Sealing, convincing them that this was the only way to save him. Even if… even if it meant living far apart. Not to mention the fight that had cost them their eye.
Anthony folded his hands in his lap, staring at the floor for a long time.
“His name was Spamton. My little mailman. Haha. That's how we met. He used to bring me my mail. We grew close. He always talked about wanting to be something more though.” He chuckled humorlessly “We wanted to be something more, throwing parties and entertaining the world over. But he was a monster and I was a lord. In this political climate? We could never make it official. I mean, could you imagine the scandal?”
He held his hands up, palms up, and shook his head with a rueful smile. “And then the war started. As things were, he couldn't work anymore. Then he got conscripted as a messenger. I'd go weeks without hearing from him, not knowing if he was still alive. I threw all the resources I could to help the cause.
“One day, when we were talking about the future, a telegram came to the house, addressed to him. I don't know what it said or how the sender knew to find him there, but it couldn't have been good. He raced out without a word. It was the last time I saw him.”
Anthony reached up to run his palm against each eye, wiping away thick tears. “I had to flee not long after. And then The Sealing happened. I don't know if he's even still alive. And now there's no way to find out!”
Seam’s heart broke for the man. At least they knew Jevil was alive. At least their colleague knew Gerson was alive. Mr. Tenna did not have that luxury.
“I am sorry the war took so much from you,” Seam finally said, their tone low and rasping. “There is not much I can say to provide comfort, but you are not alone. There are other friends and lovers that were torn apart. Others that may be able to relate. Some of them were there when the monsters were sealed. Perhaps they can provide closure.”
“
You were there,” Anthony pointed out. “Maybe you saw him. He’s humanoid, but also kind of bird-like, with wings and black and white feathers — mostly white. Please. He had to be there, right?”
Seam closed their eye. “There were many monsters there. I’m sure I saw some monsters with a similar description but… I cannot say if any of them were him, and I do not wish to provide you with false hope. I’m sorry. “
Mr. Tenna’s shoulders slumped before he forced a pained smile. “That’s. Fine. That’s fine! It’s not like I haven’t been living with the dread all this time. Who needs them anyway? Not us, apparently! We didn’t need magic either, given that we gave it all up over something! So! Stupid!” Anthony slammed his fist on the table. His (thankfully empty) tea cup clattered onto its side.
He immediately wilted. “...I miss him.”
“I know.”
“I’m never going to see him again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring him back!”
“No, it doesn’t,” Seam agreed.
There wasn’t anything else to say. Seam poured themselves another cup of tea and settled back in their seat.
There was little they could do for Tenna. There was little that they could do for themselves. But… at least they could lend a listening ear. After their role in The Sealing, it was the least they could do.
