Kindling

It was a strange feeling; tapping into the arcane power that resided at the very core of his heart. An odd mixture of hot and cold, chilly fingers reaching into the deepest parts of his being and yet meeting an impossible warmth. The sensation was peculiar and unexpected, always breaking his concentration without fail. Like a hiccup in the middle of a speech, the steadily melding sparks trembled and dispersed, vanishing into thin air like harmless little fireflies.

Toriel smiled brightly at him, undeserved pride beaming from her eyes.

"Very good, Asriel!"

It wasn't.

It really wasn't.

The little prince knew that quite well and slumped into a sit. His fluffy ears obeyed gravity in the worst possible way and rose up, flopping onto his nose, one after the other. A vigorous shake of his head set them back, but by then his mom had already sat down next to him. Before he could even have thought of retreating, the warm paw he knew so well pulled him right up close. Fussy discontent remained clear on his face nonetheless.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. The question was unnecessary, but it was a convention neither of them wished to skip.

"No." Asriel sighed, pulling his legs up. The lie was just as unneeded, but another integral part of the whole back-and-forth.

"Are you angry?"

"A little."

"At the spell, or yourself?"

Asriel groaned slumping against Toriel's side. "Both..."

It was hard not to crack a smile at his plight, though his parent did the absolute best to keep her composure. Asriel was already feeling bad enough about his slow progress and breaking into a smile, however innocent, would have surely just added to his dismay. Instead, she went for the much better approach of reaching up and stroking his head. A soft blush crept on his face, but as much as he wanted to be the grown-up successor to the throne, he still loved getting headpats too much to actually take that step towards acting mature.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong." he said. There was no anger in his voice and very little frustration, either. "I think like you said, breathe in and 'pull'. But it never lasts."

"You know the basics." Toriel said, raising her free hand. "You just need some practice."

It took but a brief moment for a bright flame to appear in her palm, calmly dancing above the white fur. No matter how many times Asriel had seen her conjure flames of all shapes and sizes, there was always a sense of wonder to the sight. The flame glinted playfully and coursed along Toriel's arm, without even touching the delicate robes.

The child has never been afraid of fire, unlike so many others. Fire was not a source of evil, or malice, but a tool to serve the will of Royal House. Sure, they may not have been the only monsters with such an ability, but even after seeing many other fire-based attacks through his young life, Asriel still considered the ones his parents wielded, special. Asgore had a good grasp of how to turn fire into an instrument of protection, while Toriel held its aesthetics in a much higher regard. Her fire was beautiful, his fire was powerful.

But Asriel's fire was just pitiful.

"Or perhaps it is not the practice, that is missing." Toriel said, breaking his chains of melancholy. "But a proper focus."

"What do you mean?" he asked, their eyes meeting for a brief moment.

Toriel finally allowed a smile and got back on her feet, dragging Asriel along as well. The little monster reluctantly stood up again, watching his mother as she reached out and grabbed his hands. She turned them paw-side-up, carefully just holding on so he wouldn't try and pry them away.

"Every bit of magic becomes easier, where you focus on something." she said. "It can be anything in the world. Fond memories, a place that you like, the people you love... all that matters is that you feel very strongly about your whatever you choose."

Warm. Her hands were so warm. Like soft embers, ones that would pop around in the fireplace while they just lazily sprawled out on the rug, falling asleep on each other. The comfy heat of a fire mingling with the warmth of something deeper.

He could feel it again, a soft yet surprisingly firm tugging at his core. There was no icy undertone to the touch though. It was a genuine, comforting feeling. The kind that made his heart tingle and giggle.

"There it is." Toriel said, very lightly nodding towards the open space over Asriel's palms. Sparks began to gather around as well, growing stronger by the second. "Now all you need is to give them a purpose. Use your focus and think what you want this fire to be. A weapon? A tool? Or a showcase?"

Asriel trembled a bit as the magic kept flowing, but Toriel held his hands steady. Sweat gathered under his fur, while his mind scrambled about to find a reason and a purpose for this flame. Sure, learning magic was cool to begin with, but why did he really need this flame at all? The answer was, just like many times before, an often unreadable and yet distantly hopeful face beaming at him, whispering his name like no other person has ever done.

Toriel's smile grew with the flame in Asriel's hand. The sparks combined and melded together, producing a small, yet surprisingly bright light within the goat monsters's hold. It was basic, and still not very strong, but undeniably his handiwork.

"A guiding light." he said, squinting just a bit to the intensity of the flame. "When I found Chara, I almost lost the way back home. I took a shortcut and we stumbled a bit on the darker paths. They were scared and I was scared for them. I wish I had you and Dad's fire, so I could light the path and make them feel better."

He sniffed, the very hint of a happy tear in the corner of his eyes.

"I want my fire to be a beacon. So no matter how far we are or how dark it is, Chara would always find me."

Toriel sighed, her heart strangely heavy to those words. She wasn't even sure which one of them rubbed off on the child, but there was no doubt in her, that he would make a great ruler one day. A just and infinitely loving one. She softly bent his hands to cover up the conjured flame. It did not hurt; the flames refused to harm their summoner, but the warmth now spread all the way up his arms.

"Then treasure this flame, my child." she said, leaning close enough that her nose briefly touched his. "Keep it burning in your heart and never forget its warmth. When the time comes for you to lead Chara or anyone else, raise your hands high, so everyone may see your light."

She gazed at him as an elder to younger, mother to son and queen to a prince.

"And they will follow you through even the darkest shadows."