Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In times of distress, he always finds himself coming back to the library.

Outside, he could hear bells ringing, the Faeries beginning to sing. It always sent an odd thrill down his dough, their eerily high and foreign songs. They had thrown together the party with ease when it was announced they would stay the night before departing to Crispia.

As in a rush Pure Vanilla was, none wanted to begin their journey at night. Not with their rather disastrous arrival.

He had found himself excusing himself early, fleeing into the quietude of the library. Too many thoughts yet lingered in his mind and he found he made a rather poor guest.

Pure Vanilla traced his hands along the spines of the books. Now, having the time to linger, he stopped over each and every cover. No longer the frantic sprint to find a fragment of White Lily’s soul, nor the harried throwback to the research days as they tore through each and every book searching for answers for the beasts.

He let his hands trace the embossed titles, wandering further and further into the library. The further he went, the older the books. Smooth leather became rough bark or worn leather under his fingers, tatters and rips beginning to catch.

Even in their worn state, he was certain that any of these would be a priceless relic back in Crispia.

White Lily must have been ecstatic to find such a library, Pure Vanilla thought with a small smile. It was everything she longed for, back in their Academy days. All this knowledge, completely free for the taking.

His fingertips paused. Knowledge.

Always, his mind came back to him. That moment, as they stared at each other and Pure Vanilla held out his hand and he-

Jerked away his hand from the book as if burned.

Pure Vanilla let himself breathe into that moment, breathing through the weight of it. The choices made were not a reflection of his own and yet he still finds himself lingering over it.

He catches sight of the wall first. The end of the library, dwindling down to almost bare shelves. Some the result of their frantic search. White Lily had been carting whole armfuls to the front of the library where Pure Vanilla waited, awkwardly craning the staff as he frantically flipped through the pages with his free hand.

But most of the emptiness, due to lack of information. This section of the library was the oldest, dating even before the Beasts. Little had survived the rampage.

They left the shelves empty in places, to show what was missing. White Lily had said, her smile twisting into something pained. He knew who had taught her that.

Anything left on the shelves now didn’t have so much of a whisper of the beasts. And considering the still scarce amount of information, that was not saying much. This far back, the books weren’t even written in music notes anymore. Instead, they belonged to a variety of languages, most of them unspoken for hundreds of years.

That made the work of translating them immense. At least they had a small edge, White Lily with her previous research in old sources and Pure Vanilla drawing upon his knowledge of medical translations, many of which hailed from older languages.

But still. He let himself reach out again, tracing worn away titles, letting his staff turn away. Tracery was slower but infinitely more comfortable than holding up things to his staff or trying to maneuver it to look into the shelves.

His fingers trace over a title, a book crammed in next to the wall.

Even without directing his gaze, he knows the book itself is practically destroyed. The cover itself is in tatters. Something ripped through the title with massive claws, so whole chunks have been torn away.

Even the pages smell faintly of ash, obvious in the normally lightly floral scented halls.

And yet. The title.

On Beginning Relationships: A Guide to Successfully C-

Creating a bond, perhaps? The title itself was gone after that, the rough leather giving way to ancient paper.

Unable to help his curiosity, Pure Vanilla pulled the book free. It was clear from the binding that some pages were lost, either to time or willful destruction. But a good amount was still here. He shouldered his staff, lifting the page to meet the eyepiece. It took a moment to focus, the new glow of his staff casting a shimmering glow over the face of the page.

To his delight, he found himself reading recognizable words instead of the long ago language that he and White Lily had struggled with so. As easy as if it had been written in his own language. Perhaps a new gift from his Awakening? Language was the foundation of knowledge after all.

-process necessitates care and a statement. The opening gift must be a floral centerpiece of stargrazers, crystal roses, silver bells, and a defining piece-

He let himself read deeper. Some of the page had been scorched, the likely reason behind the missing page. But it was enough to make out that this floral centerpiece was a rather important first step to creating a bond.

In fact, it laid out a rather complicated series of gifts and rituals to start a new relationship. Some elaborate like the flowers, others more simple and thoughtful.

“Oh.” Pure Vanilla whispered. ”Oh.”

Was this why his overture to Shadow Milk Cookie had failed?

Had he come on too strong, too fast, sweeping away an intricate process?

After all, Shadow Milk Cookie was clearly someone who cared about the journey as much as the destination! Rather than pushing him off the cliff in the first place, the other had carefully led him through a series of games and conversations, poking and prodding. Every movement was carefully considered and in this new light?

Perhaps it was Shadow Milk’s overture?

A silly idea, true, but as Pure Vanilla lowered the book, he couldn’t stop himself from mulling over the thought. That perhaps he had gotten it wrong.

Going to the Crème Republic had hurt.

Not purposefully, no. At least, he was almost certain of it, though he got the sense that some of the cookies there didn’t think much of him.

But in what was missing. On the surface, it had so closely resembled the Vanilla Kingdom during its glory days. The golden architecture, familiar tunes maintaining the infrastructure, even down to the houses with some descendents resembling their ancestors so strongly that he found himself constantly choking back the wrong name.

But that made the differences even more powerful. The paler shade of gold used for the architecture, almost white at twilight. The blockier buildings, lacking the ornate swoops and towers of the Vanilla Kingdom. The runes he knew had been overwritten, blended with a system that was so fascinating but entirely new.

In the years after the war, the culture of those who left had shifted.

It had been easier, in the village, to feel like time had not passed him by. Under constant threat, what change or culture could happen was slim. And often spurred by himself. As the most closely protected, he often found himself storyteller as well as healer.

It was only later that he realized that his stories were memories, not fantasy. With his memories as Healer Cookie, he found the transition bittersweet but almost unnoticeable.

In Crème Republic, they had a day devoted to birds. Artwork and music and it was beautiful. But what he remembered was a quieter celebration, strolls through the gardens and feeding birds and discussing life. The Republic no longer celebrated the blooming of vanilla orchids because why would they, when they had traveled to a place with none?

There, he truly felt the years that had passed from the Golden Age of his memories. He had passed on what he could to the fascinated Raisin villagers and incoming cookies.

But the world kept turning.

What would it be like, to lose thousands of years? To not only become a legend, but to be almost forgotten entirely? Places had shifted, kingdoms falling and changing, to have anything left of your time just a small small selection of shelves in a library? Any traditions you learned and absorbed, completely forgotten and thrown by the wayside.

“I may.” Pure Vanilla said to the empty shelves. “Have made a mistake.”

If his conjecture was true, no wonder Shadow Milk Cookie had been so vehemently angry and disbelieving! He must have looked like a bumbling, headstrong fool. He’d thrown aside tradition and simply held out his hand in offering, skipping over what could’ve been rather important!

And even if it was not true and perhaps Shadow Milk hadn’t minded… perhaps following this process for building a friendship would soften the other. Convince him that Pure Vanilla truly meant the best with his offer.

He tucked the book under his arm carefully, weaving his way back through the shelves. The Librarian was still in the same spot, but they had begun to sway, humming along with the music that echoed among the stacks. In the glow of his staff, the pale dough of their skin turned into a warmer gold.

“Excuse me?” He said tentatively.

They did not stop humming, or open their eyes. But he felt as if their attention was pinned on him anyways. “I was hoping to take this book with me when I travel.” He said. “This may be a big ask-“

“…okay.” The Librarian said, their humming paused.

Pure Vanilla jerked back, the glow of his staff brightening before dimming. “Ah, I wasn’t expecting- thank you.” He said sincerely. “Are you sure? I’d be going back to Crispia.”

Maybe a foolish question considering their agreement, but one he felt compelled to ask. Doubtless, this book was one of a kind now. While Pure Vanilla would protect it, it couldn’t be easy to let something like that leave the library.

“The Guardian… trusts you. You are an… honored guest. And hero.” The Librarian said, slowly blinking their eyes. “Books need to be read… and that one… has not been. In a long time.”

“A wonderful sentiment.” Pure Vanilla said. And one he heartily agreed with. While he still carried some guilt from his and White Lily’s antics of sneaking into the forbidden section, part of him was yet angry that books could be forbidden. “I promise to bring it back in good condition.”

“It is… a good guide.” The Librarian said. They paused for a moment before continuing. “I hope… to get an invite.”

An invite? To discuss it? He would be glad to! The Librarian had been a wonderful source of help during the research session. They had a good eye for details he and White Lily overlooked.

“I can do that.” Pure Vanilla said. “When we come back to Beast Yeast, I’ll send an invite.”

The Librarian began to hum again, something softer and sweeter. It stuck in Pure Vanilla’s head even as he hurried out the Library into the cold blue glow of the moonlight.

Here, the celebration could not be missed. The smell of good food filled the air, streaks of light filling the sky as faerie cookies flitted to and fro. And under it all…. Pure Vanilla took a deep breath, feeling his nerves steady as he smelled the rich floral scent of white lilies.

They were everywhere now. The faerie cookies had taken to the flower with total focus when White Lily had stepped up as a Guardian. An incredibly flattering idea, though White Lily had perhaps appreciated it less when Pure Vanilla had taken it upon himself to gently tease her about it.

Hm. Simply repaying the favor of her teasing over the vanilla orchids.

But perhaps he had mistepoed because he could feel his own dough warming as faerie cookies paused to watch him as he passed by, awed whispers breaking out.

It had been a long time since he had felt such gazes. The Republic was tempered by those who knew him before, and again, those who weren’t too fond of him. Back in Crispia, he was relieved by the hero worship fading as fast as it arrived.

“It’s hard to take you too seriously when I once saw you get scared by a bird and run into a pole.” Black Raisin had said when he gently broached whether she still felt comfortable with him, knowing who he was now.

An embarrassing answer but a pleasing one!

He wove his way through the wondrous streets. If he tilted his staff back, he could see the palace. Undoubtedly, the children and White Lily cookie were there, enjoying the festivities. But his goal laid further on.

Thank the witches that the faerie cookies didn’t stop their business for festivities. It was White Lily cookie who had told him that fact.

“It’s so deeply woven in the culture.” She explained over a steaming mug of floral tea. He didn’t remember the blend now, they had cobbled it together out of what was the most energy boosting and mind sharpening ingredients they could find. “Faerie parties can go on for days on the shorter side, and months on the longer. But, they bring the same passion to the fields that they love. It’s a gaiety I envy.”

“Hollyberry would love it here.” Pure Vanilla had replied, taking another sip of his brew. That had startled a laugh out of her, the first in a week.

“I think we found the one place that could teach her something about parties.” White Lily said wryly. High praise considering Hollyberry had once thrown a week-long festival through sheer force of passion.

Something caught his gaze, a faerie cookie darting past with a beautiful bouquet, knocking him out of his reminiscing.

Pure Vanilla quickened his steps, tracing the faerie cookie’s path to a tiny shop, tucked in between two buildings. It was positively bursting with flowers, he had to squeeze between two flourishing ornamental trees to squeeze inside. If it had a name, it wasn’t written on the outside.

Inside, the air was warmer, a humidity that stuck to his dough and made him feel stickier almost instantly. He lifted his staff to cast a drying spell before thinking better of it and lowering it again. A little humidity never hurt, and what if there were active enchantments he disrupted with his actions?

It was a humming beehive of activity as faerie cookies drifted by carrying flowers, snatches of songs fading by. Most were too busy to stare, a fact that gladdened him.

He was glad to see the counter empty when he stepped up, a faerie cookie hovering behind it. Their hair was silvery-green, framing a pure white dough. The lightness only made their pitch black eyes appear even darker, not even reflecting the golden roses they were carefully arranging.

“Hello there!” They chirped cheerily. “I wasn’t expecting one of the heroes to step into my shop! I’m Faerie Thyme Cookie, and welcome, hero!”

Pure Vanilla felt his dough warm slightly. “Just Pure Vanilla is fine.” He said. “I was hoping you could help me gather a few flowers. See-“

He slid the book out from under his arm, carefully motioning to where he remembered the passage was on the page.

Faerie Thyme’s wings began to beat faster, buzzing like a hummingbird. “That’s an old style of bouquet.” They said, leaning over to read the passage. “I can direct you to a newer style, we’ve got some pretty ones in this season.”

“I’d prefer to keep it just like this. I want it to be something that resonates with them.” Pure Vanilla said softly. He didn’t think Shadow Milk would be much appreciative of a faerie bouquet anyways, even setting aside tradition.

“Goodness then. They’re lucky to have you.” Faerie Thyme said, turning away and beginning to rifle through the pits set behind the counter. “Most wouldn’t be willing to dig up a guide like that to make them happy.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Pure Vanilla said, a bit sheepish at their remark. “I rather messed it up the first time around.”

Perhaps he should have taken up Black Raisin on their punch drunk idea to lock him in the medbay and never let him leave. At least he might embarrass himself less there.

“Ah.” Faerie Thyme said, a conspiratory smile flashing over their face, just barely within the view of his staff. “Just got swept right off your feet by the moment?”

“It must’ve been so rude to them how I skipped all the steps.” Pure Vanilla said, pressing a hand to the face of his staff for a moment before dropping it. “I wasn’t even thinking at the time if they had different traditions.”

Definitely not his best moment. But it wouldn’t have been the first time he had gone and made a fool of himself in front of someone that he hoped to befriend.

He wasn’t quite sure how Dark Cacao had overlooked the complete mess he had been during their first true conversation, but he was still grateful the other had decided to gracefully set it aside.

“Oh goodness. I’ll add a few more of each to your order, you’ll need something big to start off with to soften that blow.” Faerie Thyme said, shaking their head. “But still, not everyday that you see someone putting in so much effort! Lucky for you, we still have a few silver bells in stock. They’re almost out of season, but I keep them around as a little salute to our noble archer.”

“Wonderful!” Pure Vanilla said effusively. Perhaps he’d bake something for Silver Bell cookie later, as an indirect thank you. “But for the centerpiece…”

The book had been vague on the subject. Perhaps it was covered in more detail during the lost sections, but he found himself making a guess of it.

“If it’s anything like nowadays, which wouldn’t surprise me because the core of a tradition can stick long after the flower changes, it needs to be something a bit more personal.” Faerie Thyme said, placing a clinking bundle of crystalline roses on the counter. “Some these days favor lotuses, a bit garish against what you got but the meaning is there with rebirth and purity, we’ve see lilacs begin to rise with being love and renewal-“

Lovely ideas, but the moment she said personal, Pure Vanilla found himself thinking of something rather different.

“Hypothetically… could I just make it two flowers for ourselves?” Pure Vanilla said, breaking into the moment. “I’m rather fond of vanilla orchids and for them… intertwining the flowers in the center?”

Faerie Thyme covered their mouth with their hand. “You sure could.” They said, their voice oddly choked. “What woulda ya want for them?”

“Dandelions.”

The flower came to his mind instantly, perhaps wrongly but it… stuck. In the twisted memory of the lamb, Shadow Milk had overlaid a lie over a simple truth of a dandelion fluff. But beyond that, it just felt right. A flower that began gold, but faded to a white fluff, reminiscent of the white streaks in his hair.

Hope and wishes. That’s what he truly had for their relationship.

Faerie Thyme chuckled softly, picking up on something he couldn’t see.

“I don’t think you’re too badly off if you’re putting thought like this into this piece.” Faerie Thyme said, shuffling through the flowers on the counter. “I have dandelions but I don’t have any vanilla orchids, unfortunately.”

“I can handle that part myself.” Pure Vanilla assured. Quite easily even. Faerie Thyme nodded like they already expected the answe, looking delighted as they brought the last bundle of flowers to the counter.

“How will you want it designed?” They asked. “I know you mention intertwining, but what else?”

“I was rather hoping to design it myself.” Pure Vanilla said, feeling his dough warm at Faerie Thyme’s widening eyecings. “Not to malign your skill, but I feel as if the best impact of this piece is to arrange it myself.”

He wanted to show Shadow Milk that he was serious about this offer of friendships. No shortcuts, no arrangements. A simple and true demonstration of his commitment.

It should be manageable enough. His flower arranging skills were only on the hobbyist level, but the book had thoughtfully included a diagram of how the surrounding flowers should be arranged.

“Goodness, you really plan to go all out with this gesture, don’t ya?” Faerie Thyme said, pushing the bundles across the counter with an oddly sly look. “I think I was right the first time when I call them lucky. I wish you the best of luck! And please, let me know how it goes! I know I’d be delighted if I was in their shoes.”

“Ah, the price?”

“Free, of course! I’d feel awful charging one of the heroes who helped set our kingdom to rights again. And any friend of White Lily is a friend of the faeries.” Faerie Thyme said. Pure Vanilla shook his head.

“I refuse to let good work go unrewarded.” He said. “Consider it a marker of how beautiful your flowers were, and how thankful I am that you could help me so close to the last second.”

“Fifty gems.” Faerie Thyme said after a moment, with an amused huff to their voice. Pure Vanilla dropped one hundred gems anyways. He was nowhere near short on them, and he could almost hear the flicker of deceit in their words, something flickering in his own chest. The flowers were more expensive.

“I’ll be sure to return.” This wasn’t the last time he’d be needing flowers, according to the book. He would need to be careful to schedule it so he could return and gather more.

“Best of luck again-!” Faerie Thyme called, the rest of their words lost to the noise of the streets.

Luckily, Pure Vanilla was given a rather wide berth for his precious cargo. Still, he didn’t let himself relax until he was tucked safely back into the room White Lily had given him.

“Right then.” He said, half to himself and half to the rescued plushie on his bed. “Let’s get started on this.”

It was slow going work. He had picked his desk for it, carefully sweeping aside the scrolls and books littered across the top. But it was just barely enough space to work with.

The crystalline roses were the most delicate. A single wrong brush, and it would shatter into a seemingly infinite number of sparkling shards. The stargrazers would dissolve under sunlight, luckily nullified by it being night still. The silver bells were the easiest to work with but even they could lose their pleasing chime if struck too many times.

Finally, he brought his hands down, admiring the gorgeous woven frame of flowers. The center still empty, waiting for the centerpiece.

For the first part, Pure Vanilla stood, reaching for the pot left on his nightstand. He had taken a pot of vanilla orchids on a whim, partially out of nostalgia and partially for comfort.

The Vanilla Orchids were a gift before he had left his home for the walls of the Academy. Their sweet scent had accompanied him through king nights of studying, the stress of exams, and the new revelations of his journey towards the Truth.

He carefully selected the biggest and most beautiful orchid, gently cutting it free just below the bloom. This he paired with the most delicate and gorgeous dandelion, its white puff gently leaning against the golden bloom.

Intertwined, just like their souls. He knew Shadow Milk had felt it. The way they had merged, the beats of their Souljams matching perfectly on a wavelength no one else could hear.

For a moment, Pure Vanilla had felt whole, the balance in his heart finally at equilibrium.

He laid it gently in the center of the flower display. And then, on a whim because the book neither suggested nor denied it, he held his hand over the bouquet.

The tug of healing magic came even smoother than before, golden sparkles showering over the flowers. He watched as the flowers shifted, petals stretching even wider and colors frowning even brighter and more vital. The air filled with their delicate floral scent.

After a moment, Pure Vanilla sat back, regarding the bouquet.

The last question… was how to deliver it.

The Spire had disappeared when it crumbled, not even ruins marking the spot. White Lily had been unsurprised when they had carried back the news. She had thought the entire Spire to be an illusion.

Pure Vanilla had thought otherwise. The Spire was the core to Shadow Milk’s illusion, the truth underneath. The other may have destroyed the information in the books there and painted over everything, but it couldn’t hide the truth.

But another truth was that the Spire had followed Shadow Milk. He had no doubt that it was likely far from the original location, wherever the portal led, and too far to find before they left in the morning.

That left a riskier option, but one that he was strangely more confident in.

Lifting the flowers in one hand, Pure Vanilla left his staff leaning against the still flower strewn desk. Instead, he reached for the plushie with the other, the fabric cold against his dough. He closed the eye of his staff.

“Let’s hope that I got this right.”

And opened his eyes.

The Dark Side of the Moon was warmer now, lacking the chill that had always left him shivering. Despite the eyes all around, he found himself feeling oddly unburdened.

If this was how Shadow Milk felt when he used it, he could see why the other had grown to master it instead of discarding it. His power was woven into the very firmament of this space.

But it wasn’t his power he was interested in.

Carefully, Pure Vanille felt around the seams of his space, looking for a wisp of something different. He had felt how their control over this void had overlapped, even for the briefest of moments. Pure Vanilla may have carved a space for himself here, but that did not erase the connection he still carried.

And if Shadow Milk could use that connection to go to him, then couldn’t he use it himself?

A logical thought but he couldn’t help a sigh of relief when he finally caught something cold and distant along the edges of the void. He let his gaze focus there for a moment, weighing the flowers in hand.

Perhaps this was a foolish notion. Shadow Milk had earned the title of a Beast, he had made a mockery of Pure Vanilla’s belief, and thrown any kindness back in his face.

…but he was also lonely. A loneliness that Pure Vanilla understood.

He crouched down, pressing at the seam, letting it expand. And before it could pull away, Pure Vanilla pushed the flowers in, willing them to go wherever Shadow Milk was.

“All my wishes.” He whispered, before standing again. The plushie weighed even heavier in one arm as he stood for a moment.

For the moment, the only action was to wait.

His eyes closed, his staff opening to the mess that was his desk. Covered in shards like fine sugar and shredded petals, some crushed remains smearing one corner with a greenish stain. Pure Vanilla sighed.

“I suppose I’ll need to clean this up before bed.”

It had been a marvelous ruse. If it was directed towards anyone else, Black Sapphire would have greeted it with a hearty round of applause. Clumsy, true, but that clumsiness had added to it a certain freshness.

Black Sapphire had been… uneasy of Truthless Recluse from first sight. He couldn’t say that he doubted his Master, perish the thought! But part of him had perhaps lingered in a bit of wondering. Truthless Recluse was still That soggy little thief after all. Who could say if the other was really on their side?

Candy Apple had taken the inclusion even worse than him. Their group had been formed centuries ago, and remained unchanging. No new actors could join the play when the playwright was gone, after all~!

Puppets could shuffle on and off in a single act, but the true players remained. And then the playwright swanned back, with a new player, one with their own act. Shadow Milk had treated Truthless Recluse differently and so, Black Sapphire had adjusted himself to match.

If the deceit was towards anyone else, he would have seen him in a different light. Perhaps truly taken him under his wing as he did Candy Apple, goodness knows he could use another level head to keep her in check. He had almost grown amenable towards the idea, seeing how much the other had fallen, Master Shadow Milk’s delight. The frenetic energy that Master Shadow Milk had worn like a shroud from the moment he burst back into the Spire had begun to fade, solidifying into smooth deceit, smooth as venom.

It was Shadow Milk’s discerning eye that had caused the other to elevate Black Sapphire. He had been trusted with the ticket to the kingdom so to speak, and the lies they had spun before- they made his rumors these days look like common party tricks. He always had an eye towards liars and Truthless Recluse had pulled off quite a deceitful maneuver.

But instead it was towards his master and the only new light he could see him in was an all consuming rage. Instead, the other threw away the ticket to the masquerade that they had been given like it was so much trash.

He found himself pacing the terrace of their newest base. They had stumbled between one portal to the next before ending up here, the first bringing them to some incomprehensibly tall peak. Shadow Milk hadn’t wasted a moment, even warping around the edges, his strength was incomparable after all!

It had saved Black Sapphire his indecision as to whether to reach out to support the other as well. A wise choice considering Candy Apple’s sprinting forth had netted her a snarl.

No doubt, her antics with the cards had landed her rather solidly on the backstage for a bit. Or rather, in a tarot card, Shadow Milk declaring if she was so interested in them, she could become one for a few days.

Below, he could see Shadow Milk spinning in the air, strings flickering over this dough. They trailed off into the distance, controlling, slithering, weaving their way into more lives.

That cookie had been wrong to think he could stop their play. They were simply on the commercial break. Everyone knew that you had to break before the climax, to let the tension slow for a moment so you could crush the audience.

Black Sapphire turned to pace the other way before pausing.

It was the pop of pressure that he felt first. For a moment, he dismissed it, almost confusing it for Master’s magic.

But then it grew and built, his dough feeling like it was being gently warmed for sunshine. And on the air, he caught it.

The smell of vanilla.

Shadow Milk’s head snapped up, an odd huff escaping him. “Such a stage hungry diva.” He drawled but Black Sapphire couldn’t miss the roughness from where the other cookie had screamed themself hoarse before.

With a flair worthy of any stage, Black Sapphire let himself step over the edge of the terrace, drifting to the ground with style. As the magic, built, popped- and the Dark Side of the Moon spat out something at Master Shadow Milk’s feet.

“Master Shadow Milk?” Black Sapphire ventured as he sauntered towards him. The other had frozen in midair, regarding what had fallen through.

Flowers. A rather clumsy but pretty arrangement. An oddly familiar one- but perhaps that was the vanilla orchid in the center, still filling the air with the cursed scent of vanilla even as the stolen magic faded.

A dandelion in the center and silver bell flowers were the only others he recognized. He had found himself oddly fond of the delicate beauty of the silver bells, and how distracting their chimes were. Dandelions, well, he had pulled off rather a few rumors of garden sabotage with them.

You would be surprised how seriously people took it!

And yet, despite the sender, he could find no sign of danger. The flowers reeked of healing magic, vital magic, but only that. Nothing dangerous. But then again, they hadn’t thought the Recluse was dangerous either.

“Master Shadow Milk?” He ventured again when his first call got no response.

Master Shadow Milk, tucked up his feet, rotating until he was lying on his stomach in mid air. His feet kicked up, head tilting as he regarded what was below him. As if he stared at it longer, it would make more sense, mismatched eyes narrowing in thought as he placed one hand under his chin.

“Cursed-“ He reached forward, claws flexing like they were about to shred the delicate orchid. It tightened for a moment, ripping tiny tears into a petal.

Before pulling away.

Black Sapphire was already stepping back on automatic when Master Shadow Milk turned to face him, bending with his head tilted to the side. “Take a bow, Black Sapphire!” He said. “I’ll handle this myself.”

Go away, his eyecings said. Go away now, and let me spin my next act alone.

“As you wish.” Black Sapphire said automatically, letting himself fall into the bow. With a flap of his wings and a flick of the mic, he was hovering again, zipping back up to the terrace.

It wasn’t his place to interfere when Master wanted him to go. And yet, when he stole a look back at the flowers, he couldn’t help the flare of curiosity. Cursed thing considering the cookie that had inspired it.

Shadow Milk had picked up the display, staring down at it.

Why would the other send this? It was an odd choice… but. Somehow, Black Sapphire felt like he had seen something similar before.

Curse them.

Chapter Text

-rejected. One must naturally progress to the second stage. In this stage, to prove one’s prowess as a- one must naturally prove prowess in the kitchen by creating a heartfelt dish for their-

Pure Vanilla might have gotten a trifle over his head in this one as he stared at the kitchen.

Or. Well. What was left of it.

The cooking wasn’t the issue. Pure Vanilla loved to cook for others.

It had started with the delight that Golden Cheese, Hollyberry, and Dark Cacao had greeted the rough stew he had thrown together on their first night together, scavenging through their bags to make something warm and filling and at least a little nutritious for them.

They had lavished praise upon it, even if in hindsight the stew had been far too weak, sugared a bit too heavily, and overcooked. Pure Vanilla had been enchanted.

He had thrown himself into it with the care he threw into other projects. For him, cooking was yet another way to support those he loved, to show that he cared for them, and help bolster their strength. He had come a long way from that stew, and most days, would even be pretty proud.

He knew that Golden Cheese preferred a basque cheesecake over a regular and that she’d never turn down cheese crackers. White Lily would eat anything as long as she could eat and read at the same time. Dark Cacao preferred his traveling food bitter saying it sharpened the mind, but was partial to a nice sweet bun at home. Hollyberry didn’t care much about food but always adored having her fruits cut into cute shapes.

He could make a raisin bun in his sleep, and nearly had. On the morning where he and Black Raisin stayed up all night, reminiscing on those long gone, whose ghosts kept them awake.

He knew that the trio liked pancakes after an adventure, each with different toppings. All of them incredibly sweet, on a tower stacked high of pancakes, each a perfect golden brown.

He could rattle off the favorite meals of any of the noble families who made their kingdom his home, learned through meeting over meals he later learned to make.

He could not tell you what Shadow Milk would like to eat.

Pure Vanilla had thought this would be the easiest of the steps in this guide, but as he paced the narrow kitchen in the ship, he found his mind drawing a blank.

The book didn’t state if the dish needed to be something specific so Pure Vanilla was left to his own thoughts. Not once during his time in the Spire of Deceit, had he seen Shadow Milk eat. He knew the other was capable of it. As two halves of one souljam, what one had, the other must as well. Pure Vanilla didn’t need to eat like most did, but he found himself enjoying it all the same.

The kitchen left him spoiled for choice, not knowing it down any. The faeries had been deeply grateful for the actions in reviving White Lily, and stopping Shadow Milk. The kitchen was bursting with enough ingredients to create meals for an army, far outstripping their actual needs. Even with the skeleton crew of faeries who had agreed to help them back, there was no way they could consume it all.

One of the stories that had lingered from the Age of Deceit was the apple orchard that used to grow around the Spire. Perhaps… would he like something apple based? Or would that be seen as poking at old wounds or tastes?

Or maybe milk jelly? The texture could be a delight for those curious, and it was easy to flavor. But perhaps a bit too controversial. Milk jelly was a delight, but only for the few that enjoyed the odd combo of texture and uncommon taste.

Pure Vanilla sighed, pausing in his pacing to reach up and begin braiding back his hair. With its new length, he was certain it would cause a mess. He could already hear Hollyberry’s chiding that hair that long should be tied up and back. While he couldn’t manage her buns, he could definitely manage a clumsy braid with the memories of helping White Lily with her hair.

It would need to be beautifully made as well. Shadow Milk had been a perfectionist about what he enjoyed. During the in-between moments, when there were no games or others around, occasionally he would watch Shadow Milk tinker with the nearby puppets, murmuring softly to himself. In those moments when the curtains came down, the audience was dismissed, and the stage was reset. The other had been fastidious at making sure that everything was set just so for the next scene, to the point that Truthless Recluse had wondered if the other even knew he was there anymore.

Those moments were what gave him the strength to push along this plan. But those moments were also what made him worry about doing this right.

Perhaps a tea cake, he wondered as he tied off the braid with a blue ribbon-

“Pure Vanilla Cookie?” Pure Vanilla jolted, wincing as he ran straight into a counter. “O-oh I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay. It’s my fault for not carrying my staff.” He had left it propped on the counter, facing down at the guide. Perhaps a misguided hope that maybe if he looked at the page long enough, he might uncover whether it was a specific dish he should be making.

Tracing his fingertips across the counter as a guide, he walked towards where he remembered it was, feeling something settle as he picked it up. His gaze turned, he could see the little one who had so suddenly surprised him.

Strawberry looked ready to flee the room, their face still bright red. At least, what he could see with how tightly they had drawn their hoodie strings.

Pure Vanilla chuckled slightly, settling himself into the bench in the kitchen. “It really is alright. You wouldn’t be the first to startle me when I’m deep in thought.”

His Academy days had seen himself healing more of his own bruises from jumping and hitting a table or running into a wall than he did the bruises of others. At least until they had started their own journey.

“As honed as my senses are, when I’m distracted I tend to get too much into my own head to use them.” Pure Vanilla continued softly. “You did not so much as bruise me, if that is what has you concerned.”

“Mhm.” Strawberry said, face still buried in their hoodie. They were starting to dig deep into their own head, he could tell. It was rarer now but the other must be sleepy.

When Silver Bell had mentioned partying for a year in White Lily’s memory, he had thought it to be a joke. But apparently, the faeries were quite serious about it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Pure Vanilla caught sight of the book, lighting up. “Perhaps.” He said. “You could help me with something?”

A flash of dark eyes as Strawberry peeked out from their hoodie. “What would you need help with?” She said softly.

“I’m currently trying to make something for someone I hope will become a good friend.” Pure Vanilla said softly. “But I find myself struggling to think of what that meal should be. I don’t know what they like to eat.”

“And you think I could help?” Strawberry said softly. “I-I don’t really bake. Or cook.”

“I trust your expertise all the same.” Pure Vanilla assured. “After so long traveling together, I know you all have a knack for knowing what to do. Your cleverness is welcome.”

A pause. For a moment, Pure Vanilla wonders if perhaps he overstepped. He knew Strawberry was shy, and sometimes didn’t enjoy being drawn into conversations.

“...What are they like?”

Oh. Oh! For a moment, he opened his mouth, already shaping around the name. And then he paused.

Of all those in Beast Yeast, the trio had been faced with the worst of it for their choice to follow him. A choice he was deeply grateful for as he may not have been able to come back without them. But it was also something that made him acknowledge that perhaps bringing it up now, so close to what had happened, while the other was already deprived of sleep, was a poor idea.

He would not be doing this if he wasn’t absolutely certain of his choice to try and befriend Shadow Milk. And he was!

But how could he explain when all he knew was what he felt? The droplet of longing sounded so minute but when he had plunged in, for a moment it had felt like the entire world.

The children deserved to sleep for now, unburdened by the worries and matters of adults. The garden, when they get home. He’d tell them then and there.

“A bit wild.” Pure Vanilla said lightly. An understatement. “Brutally clever, and the drive that he has… he’ll throw himself into things and it’ll look like he doesn’t look before he leaps but he does. He’s loud and he’s… lonely.”

Strawberry squeaked, burying themself into their hoodie again. He could see their fingers fidgeting with their sleeves, a clear sign they were in thought. But a moment later, a small voice floated out. “Maybe… maybe something ginkgo focaccia? It’s… easy for them to make it into a sandwich or something. If they don’t like it plain.”

Pure Vanilla blinked. He sat back on the bench, humming softly.

“That’s a great idea!” He said. “We should have all the ingredients for it too.”

Ginkgo foccacia. A simple but delectable dish. It was a straightforward scope that could be a bit tricky to pull off. It was a good test of basic cooking skills.

But, it would also be possibly favorable. After all, it offered a good base for any customizations Shadow Milk wanted. And with it being not very messy, it made a good one-handed food for Shadow Milk to eat while working on his props. Pure Vanilla had learned to bake it exactly for that reason, it being what got him through long nights of work.

“Ah, good.” Strawberry said with a shy smile. “I. Um. Did come to tell you that the Captain says we’ll be moving slower than expected. Worried about the weather.”

Pure Vanilla sighed. Unfortunately, he had expected this.

During their time in Beast Yeast, he had wondered if they had stepped into the belly of the Beast not by entering the Spire, but by making this journey at all.

The journey to Beast Yeast was dangerous, lined with treacherous dangers and false paths. Of the records of those who made the journey, they were outweighed by the number who had vanished trying. If it weren’t for his Souljam, desire to find White Lily, and his trust that those who came could handle it, he never would have made the journey.

The journey made with breakneck speed and then ending with the destruction of their ship, ensuring they were well and truly trapped if only for a short time… and now weather delaying them again.

Was it fate drawing both wielders together? Or was Beast Yeast itself unwilling to let go of the missing half of the Souljam?

A dangerous line of musing and one he was unwilling to place onto the shoulders of a child. “Well, I suppose baking will keep me busy then.” He said. “Go get some rest. I can see you haven’t slept enough.”

Strawberry flushed, backing out of the kitchen. “Tell that to Wizard.” She mumbled, turning away.

“Send him my way and I will!” Pure Vanilla called after her. He laughed to himself, shaking his head.

Oh, the energy of children. He doubted they have slept a wink with such a fantastical party going on. And yet, here they were, clearly refusing to sleep again.

Still chuckling, he turned himself back to the kitchen, beginning to rifle through the drawers. Now, acorns, ginkgo flour…. This kitchen really was quite beautifully stocked. He’d need to think White Lily Cookie.

It took less time to make the foccacia then it did to find the ingredients. Back at home, he kept his kitchen carefully organized, relying on his memory rather than clumsily trying to find where others had moved things.

Indeed, the moment he began the dough. He found himself moving quite fluidly. Quickly, he was pulling out a crisp, still steaming focaccia, the crust a golden brown.

Pure Vanilla stared down it with pursed lips, taking it in through the eye of his staff.

But maybe not quite perfect. Perhaps he should try making another? He wanted whatever dish he presented to be perfect, to not even leave a chance at offending Shadow Milk and upsetting whatever delicate progress he might have made with the flowers.

He was pulling yet another out of the oven when the door slammed open, smacking against the wall.

“Stop what you’re doing! You’ve made a terrible mistake!” Wizard cried. Pure Vanilla carefully set the tray down. “I-oh. That’s a lot of focaccia.”

“Perhaps.” Pure Vanilla said, looking around. Had he really made so much? The last time that he stress baked like this, he had filled two kitchens with raisin buns. “What mistake have I made?”

Unbidden, he thought of the book on the counter. An almost infinitesimal possibility, but had he done something wrong? Followed the wrong step, or caused even more offense.

“A burger! Bear Jelly Burgers!”

“Ah. I’m sorry?” Pure Vanilla said, tilting his head. But unbidden, he felt himself relax. He pulled out a new pot, moving it onto the stovetop before moving over to the fridge. “Is that what you would like for breakfast?”

“No-yes! But that’s not the point!” Wizard said, and Pure Vanilla just knew that the other had started waving their hands for emphasis. He let his finger tips trace against the bottles in the fridge, pulling out one that carried the faint trace of a milky scent. “A bombastic personality- no, wild- flavorsome- well…“

“Perhaps start from the beginning.” Pure Vanilla suggested. He carefully poured the bottle into the pot, judging when it was filled enough when the burble of the stream falling in changed.

“Ah, yes. Right.” Wizard coughed. “Strawberry said that you were trying to decide what to make for someone? And she said that you had picked focaccia but that is the clearly incorrect choice?”

“Oh?” The honey was still out for the light smattering he liked to add to his focaccia dough. He pulled it over, carefully drizzling in a bit into the milk and giving it a quick stir.

“You described someone wild! Bombastic! A person like that enjoys bold flavors! Simple convenience wrapped up in a tasty flavorsome package! A bear jelly burger fits that perfectly!” Wizard said. He dropped his hand. “Not that Strawberry was super off, but still.”

Hm. That was actually a fairly good point. Ginkgo focaccia was tasty, but relatively mild outside of its bread-sweet herby flavor. While a tasty base for so many things, perhaps it came off as a bit plain?

Shadow Milk certainly was one for action and drama. Would that relate to his food as well? Was he the sort who enjoyed bright and bold flavors? And certainly, Wizard was correct in stating that the bear jelly burger was one of the best examples of in your face flavor.

“Can you pull me down three mugs please?” Pure Vanilla asked, still mulling over his thoughts. There was a soft clatter before three mugs were carefully edged onto the counter, just within view of his staff. “Thank you.”

“What’s that?” Wizard asked, peeking over the counter. Pure Vanilla hummed as he carefully ladled the concoction into the mugs.

“A magical, mystical potion for children who need sleep.” He chuckled when he heard a soft gasp. “It’s just warm milk and honey. You three should be getting to bed soon. I know the party threw off your sleep schedule, but resting is important for your health.”

“It’s not that bad.” Wizard mumbled. “And I had to keep you from making a grave mistake!”

“And you’ve given me much to think about. Maybe I’ll try a few batches and see how it goes.” Pure Vanilla pulled over a discard tray from earlier, carefully placing the mugs onto it. “Please take this as a sign of my thanks.”

The tray scraped as it was pulled off the counter. “It’s not that late.” Wizard mumbled, the soft thuds of his steps telling Pure Vanilla he was heading towards the door.

“It’s not.” Pure Vanilla called after him. “But did you sleep last night?”

The footsteps sped up, the door to the kitchen closing with a sudden click. Pure Vanilla shook his head. He didn’t think the other had stayed at the party the entire time, but he would bet that the other part of time was filled by the other reading under the covers again with acorn lamp light.

And he would bet that the other would try that again tonight.

He turned his thoughts instead to collecting the ingredients for bear jelly burgers. Perhaps he would test a few batches, just to see how they went. The recipe was easy enough-

For the third time of the night, Pure Vanilla was pulled away from his work by the patter of little feet, a tray clinking to the counter. “Pure Vanilla Cookie?”

“Gingerbrave.” He said warmly. “How were the drinks?”

“Delicious! Strawberry and Wizard won the rock-paper-scissors challenge, so I had to drop off the tray.” Gingerbrave said. Pure Vanilla heard him drift over closer. “What are you working on?”

“I was cooking, but I feel like it’s gotten a bit out of hand now.” Pure Vanilla said, surveying the counter. It was layered with bear jelly burgers dripping jam, and warm focaccia piled high until they threatened to overflow off the counter.

Goodness. Perhaps this time, he’d beaten his previous record for stress baking.

Each one was layered in delicate preservation magic, ensuring it stayed warm and crispy, still frozen at the moment it had been pulled from the oven. However, the scale…

Pure Vanilla pulled away sheepishly, smiling at Gingerbrave. “I may have gone a trifle bit overboard.” He admitted, reaching for his staff and leaning against it.

“Wizard Cookie told us what was going on.” Gingerbrave admitted, taking a deep breath of the focaccia. “It all smells so delicious!”

“Yes. All hundred or so of it.”

“Eighty five.” Gingerbrave corrected. His warm skin flushed when Pure Vanilla’s staff dimmed and brightened again, the closest he could get to a proper blink now with it. “I think you have thirty-five of the focaccia and fifty of the burgers.”

Astounding.

“As always, your quick eye for detail is incredible.” Pure Vanilla said warmly. He had always been impressed by the other’s quick recollection, starting from the moment Gingerbrave perfectly retraced their path to the Raisin Village, without missing a single step.

“Thank you!” Gingerbrave said, beaming. “Why make so much? Wizard Cookie said you made a lot but I thought he was exaggerating because sometimes he does that to make himself sound cooler.”

Ah. Pure Vanilla winced as he took in the sight of the counters. How to explain this?

“I know they told you that it was to impress a potential friend.” Pure Vanilla said. “I had stumbled upon a guide of sorts, to make these overtures. Upon the second step, it was to make them a meal and I must admit, I found myself at a bit of a loss. I want it to be perfect and they are but part of me still wonders if it’s enough.”

“A guide?” Gingerbrave said, his little feet pattering against the floor as he drifted closely. “Can I see? A guide to making friends sounds super cool!”

“Of course.” Pure Vanilla said, gently lifting the book off the counter, still open to the pages on food. “I’m not quite sure why you would need it. Your talent at making friends is something to be proud of.”

Gingerbrave ducked their head, looking at the books in their hands. “It’s still cool.” He protested. “Ahhhhh! Look how beat up this book is.”

Seeing Gingerbrave like this reminded him of the first time he had held ancient history in his hands, crouched there in the forbidden section of the Academy’s library. The realization had been heady.

“But.” Gingerbrave continued. “I don’t think you need to be afraid?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It just, it says to make them a nice meal? And it doesn’t say what, but this meal is to make friends, right?” Gingerbrave said, looking his staff in the eye. “So, I think anything you make is good, as long as you’re putting your heart into it.”

Pure Vanilla blinked.

The stew had been awful. Categorically so. Looking back now, his logical side told him to be surprised they even ate it. But in the haze of memory… it had felt like the tastiest stew he had ever made. He had never come close to recreating the soup he made that first night.

Because it was a meal shared through friendship.

“Thank you.” Pure Vanilla said, heartfelt. “You truly are good at making friends. You’ve helped me deeply.”

He had gotten so wrapped up in making the perfect dish that he had forgotten that ther wasn’t a perfect dish. Memories were made over a meal, but the moment could mean more than the meal ever did.

His first taste of bitter cacao… the bite of a raisin bun… certainly none had been his favorite foods. And yet, every time he ate one, he thought of who gave it to him.

“Well, you could’ve gotten that if you just thought about it for a moment!” Gingerbrave said, gently setting the book onto the counter.

“But it was a moment made much faster by you. Goodness knows I might have just emptied out the entire kitchen.” Pure Vanilla said gently. He took the massive wicker basket that used to hold berries, beginning to pile the bread and burgers into it. They were still warm to the touch.

“What are you going to do then?” Gingerbrave asked, clambering up to look inside the basket.

“I’ll give them one of each.” Pure Vanilla decided. “That way, he can choose whichever he’s happiest with. I’ll just bring these along and make my selections from it. A change of scenery while I choose will do me some good.”

At the very least, it would be harder for him to start stress baking again.

From the look on Gingerbrave’s face, he didn’t quite understand how Pure Vanilla planned to do that, but that was well enough. The time for revealing his new connection to the other side of the moon would come later.

With one move, Pure Vanilla tucked one hand under the basket, heaving it up to rest on his shoulder.

“Woooow~ how did you do that!” Gingerbrave said, the soft thudding telling him that the boy had hopped off the counter and started bouncing.

Pure Vanilla laughed, taking his staff in his other hand. “It doesn’t weigh that much!” He said. “You should see Hollyberry carrying things. Compared to her, I was as weak as a newborn lamb. Even White Lily could carry five of these baskets without breaking a sweat.”

Honestly, compared to any of his friends, his strength was merely average. Perhaps on the weaker side. It suited him all the same. His magic was versatile and reliable and he had enough strength to deal with ornery cream sheep. Who needed more?

“That’s so cool.” Gingerbrave breathed. “I gotta learn how to be that strong! Then I could pick up Strawberry and Wizard at once. Or, I could try it right now! I think I could get them at least an inch-”

“Maybe ask-” Gingerbrave’s footsteps were thudding out the room, racing down the hall. “If they would like you to pick them up first.”

Certainly soon he’d be hearing Wizard’s enraged shrieks soon. Pure Vanilla shook his head, adjusting the basket on his shoulder. There went the warm milk. They’d be up for a while yet.

He carried the basket back to the room he had been shown, the one they had called his. It was plain but serviceable enough. All he needed was the green knit blanket Lily had given him, and the plushy he had brought.

It was this plushy he picked up now, trading in his staff. He wouldn’t need it in the Dark Side of the Moon.

If he were honest with himself, he would know that he didn’t need the plushy either. It was as if once the door there was open, he could simply reach out for the handle at any time.

The plushy was a choice, and one he decided to keep making. It felt far too odd now to be in there alone.

This time, the path he traced through the other side was far quicker. Now, he knew where he could trace that slippery, cold magic, where the seams were in the void.

Watched by golden eyes, he rested the massive basket next to the seam, looking over his bounty inside. Now to choose the best of what he had made and then send everything out-

The world twisted. Something tugged. The seam opened.

The basket disappeared.

Pure Vanilla felt every golden eye blink. “Huh.” A pause. He reached, but the basket was well and truly beyond his grasp. Including all eighty-five of the dishes he had made. “Huh. I certainly hope that’s not rude.”

If sending one meal was good… what did sending so many mean?

If Candy Apple ever saw that mean, awful, oh so boring Vanilla Cookie, she was going to crumble him!

First! When she did so so amazing with her little trick, Master Shadow Milk got distracted by him! Him! He even stole the drama from her costume change by doing his own silly costume change.

And then! He lied to Master Shadow Milk! Lied to all of them! He said that he wasn’t going to be mean and boring and he was! And Candy Apple knew that he was!

So~ she made a teensy-eensy weeny little mistake. Just a small one! Just a little problem that would have gotten their little stage show back on track!

And then because of him, she was stuck as a tarot card! For so long!

She swung her legs furiously, hammering on the dark bricks and imagining it was her stomping on that silly cookie’s face for everything he did to them.

“If you heat up anymore, you’re going to melt your syrup.” Black Sapphire drawled. He was working on his microphone, on something he said would ‘really up the ratings next time’.

Blah! Candy Apple knew that was just code for him fiddling around with it! If he was really working instead of lurking around, it would be in pieces and the very air would be buzzing!

Candy Apple pouted. As if he could beat her sweet lies.

“I just don’t know why we can’t go after them now.” She said, watching as Master Shadow Milk examined the papers hovering around him. “I bet I could get those cookies wrapped around my finger even faster than last time! I’ll have them eating out of the palm of Master Shadow Milk’s hand!”

In fact, she could just-

“He doesn’t want to be disturbed right now.” Black Sapphire said, staff flicking out to block her when she hopped down from the wall. She scowled, stomping her foot at him, but didn’t get so much as a flinch. “He’s play writing.”

Ohhhhh. Her desire to talk to Master Shadow Milk warred with the delight of waiting to see the masterpiece that he made. Whatever it was, was sure to be great! The best plays were written out of passion, after all~!

“How much longer do you think he’s gonna take?” Candy Apple said, hopping back up in her spot. Oh, how she loved watching him work when he was in the throes of concentration! The papers flying, the strings moving as if reaching for puppets, the artistry.

“I’m not sure. A short while ago, I would have said we’d be raising the curtains soon. But after the surprise…” Black Sapphire trailed off for emphasis, tapping his chin. “I find myself unsure. He hasn’t decided how this changes our scenes.”

Hmph. “If only I was around during it.” Candy Apple huffs. “I would have just gotten rid of the rotten old thing!”

“And annoy him again after already messing up?” Black Sapphire’s voice crackled warningly at the end. Candy Apple crossed her arms, looking away. He couldn’t get mad at her! Only Master Shadow Milk was allowed to be mad at her!

“I don’t even know why a bunch of flowers are a big deal.” It’s not like they hadn’t made bunches before as audience gifts!

Besides~ they weren’t even meaningful flowers! Black Sapphire said they were just silver bells and dandelions. Who cared about those?

“Honestly-“ Black sapphire said, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose like he wasn’t ten times as annoying-

The temperature began to warm, the scent of vanilla filling the air. Candy Apple was on her feet in moments, her vision only a tiny bit blocked by Black Sapphire’s arm swinging out in front of her like he expected her to go charging in. Like a jerk!

But he didn’t move aside, taking a half step in front of her. And then there was the awful awful feeling of the other realm opening which normally she loved but this wasn’t the magnificent Other Realm of Master Shadow Milk but an awful imposter.

The world snapped back. Candy Apple darted around Black Sapphire, dodging the grab he always made when she did this. “Master Shadow Milk! Are you okay?!’

The papers had flown aside, one string still caught and fizzling blue sparks under the giant basket that had landed in the center of their oh-so-delicate operations! Disturbing his writing progress!

“Oh Ho Ho. You should see the look on your face.” Her gaze flicked up, happily meeting the hovering form of her master. He twisted to face her, but his eyes remained locked on the basket below. “What an… interesting continuation. How silly can you be?”

He was talking. But it didn’t sound like he was talking to them. A monologue on the stage alone, once again the Vanilla Cookie had stolen the show. She felt something unpleasant and twisting bubbling up in her.

“Master Shadow Milk.” Black Sapphire said and Candy Apple squeaked in indignation when she was caught by her arm. “Would you like us to dispose of this for you?”

“No, no. I’ll handle this myself!” Master Shadow Milk said, narrowing his eyes down at the basket. Whatever it was, she couldn’t see it. Only smell something delectably sweet.

Actually, gross! Disgusting! Truth couldn’t smell sweet at all!! Not even a bit!

“Leave me now.” Candy Apple leaned forward, Black Sapphire’s hand still around her arm.

“But Master Shadow Milk-“

“Best not to disturb him. We’ll take our leave.” Black Sapphire said, towing her back like the jerk he was. “We are ready for the curtain call whenever it comes, Master.”

“Right, right!” Master Shadow Milk said, flicking a lazy hand. His eyes narrowed at the basket beneath him. “And we may be needing that curtain call very very soon…. Hm.”

Candy Apple poured as she was dragged away by Black Sapphire, up the stairs that were no longer comfortingly confusing and instead boring and blah.

“I could help!” She said, craning her head to keep her eyes on Master Shadow Milk. He didn’t look back, too busy writing on a piece of paper with a focused look.

“Or you could be turned into a tarot card. Again. And leave me to do all the work around here.” Black Sapphire said. Candy Apple opened her mouth to tell him off. But instead caught sight of the inside of the basket, the angle of the stairs just right.

“Black Sapphire.” She said, sweetness gone. “What flowers were in that first sending?”

“Oho? Silver bells, I think a dandelion… I’m not sure.” Black Sapphire said, his shrug shifting her arm slightly. “I’m not one for flowers. Why?”

“Oh, nothing.” Candy Apple said, pulling her gaze away.

Surely, that boring, weird, traitorous Vanilla Cookie couldn’t be doing what she thought he was doing. It was just a coincidence! A weird, weird coincidence!

Her stomach rumbled, jostling her from her thoughts. Black Sapphire sighed. “The tech crew will break for snacks now.” He said, his voice taking on the sonorous quality he used when projecting.

“Oo! I want a burger!”

“Fine. But don’t. Touch. Anything. Brat.”

“No promises!”

(-lover. In many cases, those swear by the use of high quality or larger quantities in order to make a statement of heightened infatuation and a strong indication of how much they care for the other, to put in the work so-

Chapter Text

“PV, old pal… how did you even get this bad?”

Pure Vanilla winced. He had been quite optimistic a few days ago when he read the book. But… perhaps he had overestimated his skills.

Pure Vanilla sighed as he settled heavily into the armchair, setting his staff off to the side. Even with his own resilience, fatigue tugged at the edges of his mind.

They had pushed the airship to its limits to reach Crispia as quickly as possible, sweeping down on the Vanilla Kingdom in half the time it had taken them to make the journey. Their goal of instantly uniting with the Ancients was, in hindsight, foolish. He had had to carefully negotiate and calm those left in the kingdom, understandably concerned by the unfamiliar ship appearing. Particularly at the incredibly late hour.

He hadn’t even known Strawberry Crepe had had that many Waffle Bots.

It had been a good couple of hours, docking the ship, herding cookies, explaining the stories and why he suddenly looked different. In the end, he had turned to see the trio practically asleep on their feet. It had taken more cajoling and coaxing, but he had gotten all three tucked into bed. But, despite the mental fatigue, he found himself buzzing, unable to sleep.

During the journal, Pure Vanilla had focused on growing used to his new form and the new horizons his Awakening had granted him. For the next stage of the book… could only be completed back at home.

“A spoon.” Pure Vanilla hummed, tapping his chin. During his brief glance through the book in the library, he had already been wondering about this point. When he initially saw the page, he had thought this avenue was closed entirely, broken off at the third stage.

Something had torn though this page, the ragged slashes not looking like the work of a blade, but claws. Areas lucky enough to avoid the tears were stained with a dark ink-like substance.

If it wasn’t for the rounded edge of a diagram and a handful of words, but full and partially cut off, he wouldn’t even know the goal was to make a spoon. What kind of spoon? How to make it? That information had been wiped away with not even enough to guess on like the previous two steps.

Except for one break in luck.

This was actually one area where he had some experience in its later usage in culture.

The Hollyberry kingdom had a tradition where a sword was presented to one’s significant other. Granted it was a romantic overture, meant for sealing courtship when the other chose to accept the blade or to reject it.

But, the presenting of two similar utensils? Likely with similar meanings? For Hollyberryians, who lived in a beautiful but deadly jungle, a sword was a sign of faith in the other’s passions. A ceremonial offering imbued with love and a wish for your love to defend themself. One would present the sword, and if the other accepted, they would craft a sheath to hold it.

It was quite possibly a sign of cultural drift. While Beast Yeast remained shrouded in legend, part of what sustained it was travelers who had arrived on the shore of Crispia, making new homes. Along the way, they would have brought their own traditions, traditions that would change with them

It was enough that he hoped that he could theorize the principles of the spoon from it.

“The idea behind it is simple.” Pure Vanilla mused. He had already heard about the practice from Hollyberry, one that dated from before even her kingdom. The blade had three important attributes.

First. The materials must be gathered by its creator, by hand. The more precious and meaningful, the better.

Second. A design must be carved, embossed, or otherwise added to the blade by its creator. Again, this must be the sole idea of the creator.

And third. Only the person making the overture could work on the blade. They could be guided, given the blade, but no one else should touch the blade.

The third was easily manageable. The second was… hm. He would get there when he could. The first?

That was his first point of hesitation. “I suppose I’ll just need to approach this like an examination then.” Pure Vanilla said to himself, turning away from the book.

While the palace had been abandoned for years, the protections on the inner library had remained strong. In the time since, Pure Vanilla had lifted it, offering its contents for studies. Unfortunately, not many had taken advantage of it as of yet, most academically inclined remaining in Parfaedia rather than traveling to view his library.

Pure Vanilla glided up the steep steps, a touch relieved when he saw no sign of the coffee mage or the cream mage who occasionally came by.

Perhaps he felt a trifle embarrassed to skip the more esoteric books, to pull down a ledger on trade and flip to the utensils section. Just a trifle. But it was worth it.

The nearby table was still littered with remnants of studying, but it still made for a rather comfortable seat as he settled in. He angled the book before his staff, contemplating the shipments.

Metal, stone, or wood. That was the first question. The answer came as easily as breathing, as easy as seeing an exam question he had practiced for a hundred times such as the quick diagnostic of hybrid flavors.

Wood.

Metal might make more sense for Shadow Milk, as cold and durable. Silver maybe, known for its rune setting prowess. Or stone. Something delicate and glittering, dazzling the eyes like sapphire.

And yet, the moment he thinks of the material, the design pops into his head unbidden. It was a gift, yes? Meant to carry the hopes and well wishes of the gifter? It made far more sense to him that part of the gift would need to be from him. About him.

And, he had a bit more confidence in shaping wood than he did with metal or stone. He didn’t quite have the naturecraft of White Lily, but his own skills were not too shabby.

His fingers drummed against the page when he lowered it to the table. After a moment, he pulled over a loose scrap of parchment, rushing to commit the flash of inspiration to parchment before he lost it.

”You’ve probably leveled a Yule Log forest in a year.” White Lily’s amused sigh came back to him. He had been a flurry of papers in his youth, always jumping to write down a scrap of an idea or a diagram before he lost it again.

Pure Vanilla’s quill paused.

Had Shadow Milk been the same? He had seen the way the other worked on props, but did he have the same flashes for his play? Did he make notes on old scripts?

The curiosity burned as he traced out the last few lines, holding it in front of his staff. Perhaps if they became friends, he would find out.

The design he settled on was simple, but hopefully meaningful. On the front of the spoon, a dandelion hovered over the bowl, wisps beginning to float away in an imaginary breeze. Above, in the tip, would be an embedded stone with the inverted Souljam Shadow Milk.

If one were to flip it over, they would find a vanilla orchid where the dandelion was, leaves beginning to trail the way up. And the stone had flipped, appearing as Pure Vanilla’s Souljam.

Two halves of one soul. Truth and Deceit as reflections of each other, belonging to each other.

The stone would need some clever work, but he was more hopeful in his ability with it being so small. And he thought Shadow Milk might appreciate the theatrics.

It would be tricky still though. He’d need a stone with a perfect shade of blue.

Don’t even think of chipping a piece of me off. The Light of Truth warned. Pure Vanilla hummed, patting it gently.

“I would not even think about it.” He said gently. Honestly, he had no desire to bring it in. Reminding Shadow Milk of the Souljam would only drag them both back to the same old enmity, the same problem that had led to the other’s fury.

If he wanted a stone, he’d need to find one himself.

He dismissed sapphire and blue sandstone in short order. While both glittered in a lovely way, the shade was… not quite right. It clashed. He wanted a shade of blue like Shadow Milk’s eyes, the blue that had trailed him much like gold did for Pure Vanilla. Much like the shade that lingered in the Dark Side of the Moon-

Moon.

Moonstone.

Pure Vanilla’s quill froze, his staff dimming for a moment as he thought. Moonstone was a tricky material, a dangerous one for mages to draw from. While his magic laid more in Moon magic at a push, he had never needed moonstone, with its unstable dimensional frequencies. His experiences with it mostly stemmed from White Lily’s own experiments.

Before she had gone to Beast Yeast, she had presented him with a single shard. When he had awoken to his memories, it had long since turned to dust, consumed during his desperate rush. It remained one of his sorrows.

Moonstone was rare, difficult to find and mine with how it had a tendency to warp reality around it in large enough proportions.

Despite White Lily’s goals, moonstone was a rarely used reagent in potions and rituals. Even in portal circles, where it should excel, most opted for weaker but more stable materials.

But he knew where some shards were, didn’t he?

One was in the Spire. At the time, he had been too distracted with his own racing thoughts to examine the magnificent architecture more closely. But moonstone had been everywhere. Embedded in walls in vivid designs, making up the eyes of statues, tiles in the floor.

Another was the Academy. The stone had shattered when they finally destroyed the ritual attached to it, scattering pieces over the ruins. At the time, he had been in a rush, more concerned with protecting the children from the blast and what untangling such a ritual could do.

Such a large stone couldn’t have been drained dry. Near it, he could find shards just as he needed.

Pure Vanilla lifted his head, looking out the window to the night sky. Above, the full moon shone down, enveloping the kingdom in a peaceful silvery glow. His fingers drummed against his staff. On impulse, he set the book down, sweeping up his design and gliding out the room.

The corridors were tranquil, empty late at night. In the distance, he could hear the soft thuds of a Waffle Bot crossing the halls, idly patrolling. Back in older days, despite his arguments, the nobles refused to have any less than a full squad of guards at night.

Pure Vanilla shook his head, feeling bittersweet about the memory. In the end, the threat had come from another Ancient and the worries of the nobles had come to naught. Those brave guards had traded their lives for precious seconds, a trade Pure Vanilla still found haunting him late at night.

He much preferred the Waffle Bots, who fed information to a far smaller patrol. For one, it meant that when he stepped up to the portal room, no one noticed.

The door swung open silently, the hinges carefully oiled. While Pure Vanilla didn’t possess the same adventurous spirit of Hollyberry, neither was he as homebound as Dark Cacao. He watched as the portal runes began to glow, his magic beginning to circulate in them without even a thought.

With how familiar he was with the Academy, creating a small portal there was-

“Healer, you better not be doing what I think you’re doing.”

Too late, the scent of sun-dried raisins and the dusty plumage of a bird swept past him. Pure Vanilla hesitated between a wince and a fond huff.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” He said as Black Raisin stepped up beside him. They eyed him, vivid magic curling around their eyecing. He measured it, feeling a touch concerned when he realized that it was dimmer than usual. “I thought you said the current night guards had reached a level where you felt comfortable to sleep.”

“My closest friend got sent off to a legendary continent chasing ghosts, over a treacherous sea.” Black Raisin said flatly. “And now, I come to find him activating a portal in the middle of the night to an unknown location, alone. The tea helped but you are testing the limits.”

Ah. Yes. He had forgotten about that. Pure Vanilla let his shoulders slump a bit. “I didn’t think you would want to come to Beast Yeast.” He said.

“I wouldn’t.” Black Raisin said, the words short. Clipped. A tone he had only heard from them twice.

Once when their mother had passed away and they became the new Guardian of the village.

And once when he had pushed recklessly forward to follow three strangers into the sky.

With a thought, Pure Vanilla let the magic of the portal fade. With it, even with the loss of light, he can see something ease a bit in Black Raisin’s frame. “My friend.” He said, quietly. “One of my closest companions. You know that I didn’t invite you because of worries for your strength, right?”

The crow on their shoulder cawed, wings flapping as it bobbed. If the tension had faded for a moment, now Black Raisin was a statue. An exhausted, faded statue. Goodness. He had gotten so wrapped up in everything, he almost forgot to look back at what he had.

A sin of his past, but one Pure Vanilla didn’t plan to continue. His new self would look back at the past and bring it with him into the future.

He raised his free hand, carefully patting the little bird until it reluctantly settled, beak clipping at his fingers. “Then…” Black Raisin paused, the silence open.

“I didn’t invite you because of your strength. Because I knew if the worst was to happen, you would protect the kingdom and continue to lead it forward.” Their kingdom was still fledging with much of their strongest being uncoordinated newcomers. And while Custard would one day become a grand king, he was not ready to lead. And-

Before his Awakening, he would have been scared to say so. But now, it feels easy. Looser. Something unknotting in his chest, a lightness to his jam. “ And in all honesty. Before, I found myself scared sometimes. Because I know you would throw yourself in to save me, even if the fight meant the loss of your own life.”

“That is my duty.” Black Raisin said solemnly. In the dual glow of their gaze, Pure Vanilla smiled. “You can not stop me from that. Even if I am weaker than your companions of now-”

Pure Vanilla raised a hand to stop her but was cut off by the crow instead, the other nipping at Black Raisin’s face. “I can’t.” He said. “But you are not weaker in any way than the travelling companions I brought with me.”

“Against as Ancient? Faeries? Oven Baked?” Black Raisin’s tone exuded challenge, a familiar one. The same they vollied when he had voted for trust over suspicion.

“And none of those mean strength.” Pure Vanilla said sedately. It was true that Faeries possessed a great strength, honed over the years. That an Ancient was a level unsurpassed by anything short of legendary cookies. Even the trio, being Oven Baked, were already far stronger than most and growing at astounding rates. “Black Raisin, I think you are selling yourself short here.”

The crow hopped over so he could rest a hand on their shoulder. “Even far from official training, the level of magecraft you have reached is astounding.” He said. “As a child, you contracted with a flock that any other cookie would consider a nightmare walking. Your skills are terrifying, and beyond that, your mind is unmatched. If I had you, I would not have fallen so easily in the Spire.”

“You’re right, I would have knocked you out and dragged you out.”

That startled a quick laugh from him, something warm in his chest. “You would have.” Pure Vanilla agreed. “It would not have been easy, to face Shadow Milk. But I have no doubt you would have.”

He had been Healer after all, even if none but Black Raisin used the name now. The two of them had worked for so long to keep the village safe, and through it, he knew and trusted Black Raisin to the highest extent. In the end, it had been his fear that led to him refusing to take Stawberry Crepe or Black Raisin. With Black Raisin’s steady and suspicious nature, they would have been invaluable against deceit.

“In much of my years, very few had meant it when they said they would protect me.” Pure Vanilla said, turning away. Even the guards had been treated as ceremonial, most distant from him. But Black Raisin affirmed it, not once, but twice.

“You may have gotten a new outfit, but you’re still Healer.” Black Raisin said, but there was an edge of a scoff to it now. “I think we should tell every newcomer the times you would work yourself into exhaustion. Like the time, you were trying to grow flowers-”

“Hush!”

“And your words are sweet.” Black Raisin said. Ah. The suspicious nature, now turned on him. “But I can’t help but notice you never explained why you were activating the portal.”

“I’m going to the Academy to collect something.” Pure Vanilla said. He swept his hand wide. “If you would like, you can come with.”

An offering. An apology. An olive branch to make up for his past mistakes.

“Fine then. But this must be quick.” But there was something sparking behind those dark eyes, even as Pure Vanilla released his grip on his magic, the portal begin to glow.

Until it snapped, open and then close. Pure Vanilla stumbled a step, the feeling suddenly foreign when he had gotten used to the steady pressure of the Dark Side of the Moon. A hand settled in his, Black Raisin looking around at the ruins around him.

“Right.” Pure Vanilla said, standing up straight. “I aimed for the closest space to the former Moonstone as possible. I’ll be looking for a deep blue gem, often crackling with a bit of magical residue.”

The ruins already look different around them. Before, though he had been distracted by his memories as a student, there had been a gloom that refused to disperse. A shadow that clung to the very air. It had driven away all potential rescuers, most turning back even before the first ghost was revealed. Now, the air felt strangely… empty. Like an invisible pressure had suddenly been released.

And when his magic reached into the air, he felt nothing but stale echoes. The Headmaster and the ghosts were gone. He felt a pang of bittersweet grief, another chapter closed in history.

“Hey, Healer.” Black Raisin suddenly said. “Is this stone for the person you’re interested in?”

Pure Vanilla’s steps stuttered, his staff pausing for a moment. “I’m sorry?” he said, a bit unsure how to respond.

“Wizard brought it up.” Black Raisin said, the eyes of them and their bird focused on him. “When you were convincing Strawberry Crepe not to steal the Faerie airship. He said you had a book and you were using it to try and… charm someone.”

Ah, he supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised Wizard had spilled it. “A recent choice.” He said. A glint caught his eye. Could it be?

“Are you sure about this?” Pure Vanilla tilted his head, a quiet signal to continue that Black Raisin took. “Taking up such a risk… I don’t want to see you hurt. I know some people can be rather charming but often times their intentions can be… rather aggressive and-“

“Raisin.” Pure Vanilla cut her off firmly, face warm when he realized where she was going with this. “I’m not being seduced by some passing traveler with low goals! That’s not what this is about! It’s a process of friendship and-and commitment-“

“Commitment that requires you to plunge into formerly haunted ruins for a piece of moonstone?” Black Raisin said. Their jelly crow cawed, the note oddly skeptical. Pure Vanilla huffed, face still flaming as he picked up the stone that caught his eye.

It glowed in his hand, a vivid blue. A vivid blue he recognized, and a size that was perfect. He closed his hand, wondering if it was a good sign that he had found a perfect stone so quickly.

“It’s not like that.” He said firmly. “And this was a choice I made for myself. I… came off a little badly, when we first met. I ignored what would have made them comfortable. I’m hoping that showing a little sincerity may melt a heart. You should know that well, considering your own care.”

That got a shove to his shoulder, bringing up another bubbly laugh. “I should have sewn my tent shut.”

“Why? I thought it was cute the way you nursed that nest of chicks.” Pure Vanilla said. She had complained about it being a waste of food, and yet, she had given up some of her own rations to feed them. He had to get very creative about giving her some of his.

“Hush.” Black Raisin said. “I’ll reserve my judgement for now. This place is as creepy as the Spire you mentioned.”

Pure Vanilla opened his mouth to say that the Spire had been much different before he-

His staff brightened for a moment as he took in the ruins, the memories of what they had looked like back when he was a student.

It truly… did look similar, didn’t it? The same shade of blue in some areas, the same swooping architecture. The same eyes, which the students had whispered ghoulish stories about, on the walls. Looking out from the paintings. Even in small quantities, the moonstone was more common here than anywhere else.

That begged the question. Had the Spire resembled the Academy, a technique to disorient him further… or. Did the Academy resemble Shadow Milk?

But how could that be? Perhaps the work of travelers, who after arriving into Crispia, modelled their Academy over the memories of Knowledge? Or… had Shadow Milk been directly involved in the Academy? The idea seemed ludicrous at first, and yet. And yet, something about it kept shuffling the puzzle pieces in his mind. The Academy was old and carried a vast history, much of it lost to time. Even the first Headmaster had only a singular portrait, the paint old and cracked.

It wouldn’t be out of the question. This puzzle preoccupied his thoughts as he cast the portal again, as he guided Black Raisin to bed. Even as he glided into his chambers, he still felt the thought baking until finally he had to set it aside. With a note to dig further on this. If Shadow Milk had truly built the Academy, this could be monumental. It could be a new lead into the other!

He forced his thoughts away, pulling the design and the moonstone from one of his pockets. He had the stone. For now, he needed to focus on the next step. But the wood…

He already knew what he needed, right? To pair with the moonstone, to make up for being simple wood, it had to be filled with meaning instead.

Pure Vanilla opened the chest, reaching his hand to the bottom where it met dry wood. He had long since grown past needing this as a cane, his magical staff opening up his vision in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

But despite its lack of use, he never could set it aside.

His Shepherd crook.

Sized for a child, it looked far too small, almost distorted in his now grown hands. Pure Vanilla sat for a moment, tracing the crook in his hands. The last time he had seen it, it was in the memory Shadow Milk had distorted.

Before he had learned to see, this crook had been his closest companion. He had taken care of it tirelessly, and in the end, had heavily enchanted it with durability, pouring resources in to make sure it stood the test of time.

But… using it for this, felt right in a way he couldn’t quite understand. In a way, it felt like closing a loop. Offering a piece of himself, baring his soul to try and express his utmost sincerity.

Gently, carefully, he excised a small piece, just big enough for the spoon. Still, there was no way to hide that some had been removed.

Now. He had the wood and the stone. Carefully, Pure Vanilla picked up the knife he usually kept at his desk for opening letters and pointed it at the stone. It couldn’t be that hard-

Crunch. Pure Vanilla winced as he healed the wound on his hand. Perhaps he was holding it wrong.

Crunch.

Perhaps he should try the wood instead-

Crack.

Crunch.

Crack.

…oh dear. He was going to need an expert to guide him.

“That’s what brought me here.” Pure Vanilla said, mumbling into the table. His hands still ached with the phantom pain of the dough cracking, lingering after how many times he had had to heal himself.

“Oh, sugar, carving is a lot harder than it looks.” Hollyberry said, looking over the stone and wood that he had brought. “...Were you trying to use a letter opener to carve?’

“I didn’t think it would be that hard…” Hollyberry had always made her carving time by the fire look effortless.

“I can carve, but I can’t spin like you can.” Hollyberry said peacefully. Pure Vanilla paused. That was true.

With his years with the sheep, he had become adept at every sort of fibercraft. Weaving, knitting, spinning, he even had a half finished tapestry featuring the Ancients at home, made from thread he had spun from sheep he had raised himself. It was already twenty feet in size, a project to occupy him over the years.

“But I have to make it myself.” He said into the wood of the table. It wouldn’t count if anyone else made it. And unfortunately, he would not be able to make the spoon from wool or another fiber.

A pause. “Sugar, are you making a blade?” Hollyberry said. “It’s a bit small but-“

“No!” Pure Vanilla said, jolting upright as he felt his face warm. “Nothing like that! It’s meant to be a spoon!”

What was with cookies today, reading into this for such odd things! First Black Raisin and her concern about his love life and now Hollyberry’s teasing!

“A spoon? What’s making you go through all this effort for a spoon?” Hollyberry said, setting the moonstone onto the table. “Don’t think I don’t recognize what the stone is, or where this wood came from.”

Goodness. Courting? Pure Vanilla shook the thought of his head. That was nothing like what this was about.

“It’s for becoming a friend.” He mumbled. “I need to design and create the spoon to present to them, and cultural drift so I based it on the concept of the Hollyberryian sword but it’s really different…”

But he couldn’t escape Hollyberry’s amused gaze. “A friend.” She drawled. “Okay, sugar. I’ll help you make your spoon for your friend. But first, we need to get you some actual carving tools.”

“Wonderful!” Pure Vanilla said. He reached for the wood, pausing as he remembered something. “And since I’m here… would you perhaps assist me with another matter?”

He drew the book from his pocket, flipping through by feel to another page, just past the torn remnants of the page on spoons. “The next stage is rather important as it marks the first stage of meeting and whether the other is interested in continuing.” He said. This was one he had fretted over. “To drink under the stars… most of my own bottles have long since gone off.”

A soft tug as Hollyberry pulled on the book to examine it, humming softly. “Goodness, you really are passionate, aren’t you?” She said fondly. “Right then, after I guide you on how to do this, I’ll bring you one of my best vintages. I have a perfect one in mind.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary-“

“Nonsense! How could I present any less to your new companion! Now, raise your blade!”

Time seemed to pass in a blur. Hollyberry’s Passion had a way of seizing one, making their body overflow with energy. Until it finally ran out. The past hours a frenetic sprint of carving and regrowing the wood, enchanting it, and then rushing home to step into the void to deliver it. Pure Vanilla collapsed onto the bed, feeling oddly drained. In his arms, he held the plushie, feeling the fading wisps of the void leave the room.

If he rolled over, he would see the glittering golden bottle. Full of promises he wasn’t sure if he wanted to think of. He held the plushie tighter, wondering what was happening on the other side of the Moon.

Next week… would Shadow Milk come?

He denies the lamb his curtain call.

No, no, this one he receives in his chambers, scripts set aside. His minions were far away, toiling on the projects he had assigned them. Moving behind the scenes. For how could one review scripts with prying eyes not their own when a story of such mastery is presented before them?

Ha! Mastery! Sometimes, he just cracked himself up. Compared to him, Pure Vanilla was just fumbling around! It was almost adorable!

Shadow Milk kicked his feet idly, eyes fracturing across the room. If he was correct, the next stage should be beginning today. The call to action, the rise to the climax, inched along in little stages. At least, it would be beginning today if Vanilly didn’t disappoint him.

It wasn’t the first time he had witnessed such a process. Cookies, itty bitty fools that they were, came to him all the time! Asking for blessings, asking for advice, because who cared about getting to know someone when you could get the answer right away?

But never had someone tried the process on him.

When the wreath had arrived, it had thrown his plans in a little bit of a tizzy! Never had he imagined that Pure Vanilla would so grovelingly prostrate himself for a grain of affection! The hero, trying to court a Beast! How foolish! How funny! He knew he was handsome, the most knowledgeable, and charming, the greatest in the land, but to make such an impression?

And yet, then came the food! In the corner of the room was the basket, yet untouched. A lavish bounty, barely worthy of being offered to him. Above it hung the wreath, almost gltitering under the flickers of light.

Aw. His silly-vanilly never disappointed with the casting call. Or, maybe he should say, COMPLETELY DISAPPOINTED! Because Shadow Milk had still not forgotten that lie.

Before he could descend to his scripts, magic bloomed in the room. Shadow Milk let his smile curl, revealing his fangs as he flipped onto his stomach, kicking his feet idly as he looked at the item descending before him.

Awwww, look at silly-Vanilly! His pookie bear! STEALING HIS TECHNIQUES! Exploring the very technique others had reviled him for!

He snatched up the spoon, flicking the little stone in it playfully. It didn’t escape him the reflected flowers, matching the wreath. My, my, Nilla was really pulling out all the stops in this! Didn’t he know how dangerous it was to give him a moonstone? Didn’t he know how much he could break with even this little bit? He traced a finger over it, imagining that it was Pure Vanilla’s Souljam he was touching, HIS Souljam. Under his finger, he could feel Pure Vanilla’s magic echo like a map he had already uncovered. Durability, preventing aging, even lining the false Souljam stone where the wood had been coaxed to regrow around it.

Shadow Milk brought the spoon up to his face, eyes narrowing at the faint scent of jam under the glimmer of enchantments. A deeper sigh, and he could almost taste the heavy scent of vanilla. It had been cleaned, perhaps for the level of a pathetic little crumble of a cookie. But his sense of scent had never failed him.

Aw, silly-vanilly had bled to make this, hadn’t he? How charmingly and stupidly determined of him! Throwing himself into something with nary a thought!

He lowered the spoon in his hands, musing. With a sharp throw, it would be nothing but dust. Or maybe he would toss it to one of his puppets and guide them through a sensational murder plot with a key weapon! Or, perhaps, he would keep it and snap it in front of Pure Vanilla next time that they met. He was sure the other’s expression would be delicious with the wood it was made of, a wood his expertise could easily deduce. How could the other be so FOOLISH as to use it?

He paused.

Shadow Milk flicked his wrist, feeling the spoon disappear into the void, there at his fingertips whenever he wanted. The director didn’t throw away key props!

Speaking of which…

A key scene would be coming up. Shadow Milk flipped onto his back, propping his chin in his hands. He had seen scripts like this before. The lovers, and their meeting under the stars. And now, the spotlight waited for the greatest actor to grace the stage!

How the invitation would be issued! A mystery! An itsy-bitsy mystery! Of course, Pure Vanilla would choose the most DRAMATIC method possible because goodness knew the other was such a TROUBLEMAKER AND LIAR-

He shook the thought from his head, swinging up to sit cross-legged. But now the spotlight was on him! On Shadow Milk Cookie! For, it was he who would choose whether to continue or end this pathetic little farce of a play.

Aw, the thought of Pure Vanilla, silly, silly, silly Vanilla. Alone and sad under the stars, waiting for someone who would never come? Oh, it positively cracked him up! He was crumbling with laughter!

Below him, a script caught his eye. Tragic lovers, who had died for each other.

Or perhaps… he’d go. He’d go and play along with Pure Vanilla’s little play. Except this time, he wouldn’t be the puppet on the stage, the king stabbed in the back with his moment of triumph arrived by a pathetic thief who couldn’t see how GREAT THEY COULD HAVE BEEN TOGETHER-

This time, it would be Shadow Milk with the schemes behind the scenes. This time, when the curtain fell, it would fall on his triumph, Pure Vanilla in his hands. This time, it would be him, smug and winning, and Pure Vanilla on his strings. This time, he would not falter, except he never faltered! It was simply the brief drop in tension before the climax!

And not how it was before. This time, he was going to have Pure Vanilla right in his claws!

He giggled to himself, kicking his feet. Oh, how excited he was for the curtains to rise again! This was going to be FUN!

Chapter Text

-time meant to promote bonding and shared interests. Mutual admiration of the stars had been known to draw two ——— together-

He hoped that Shadow Milk would not be displeased by a printed letter over one with a bit more of a personal touch

Pure Vanilla had never had much luck with his handwriting. Personally, he found it perfectly legible! Unfortunately, his personal handwriting was such a scrawl that the nobles had unanimously voted him an assistant to take down his dictation. Dark Cacao had presented him with a series of run blocks, charmed for a minor telekinetic spell that allowed them to quickly print letters.

His opinion was not one the rest of the world shared.

Pure Vanilla sighed. And so it came back to the blocks, dug out of the dusty drawer he shut them away in when they weren’t needed.

His handwriting was perfectly legible! But, perhaps a little influenced by his time in healing halls. White Lily could read it easily enough, after her own time, but even for the rest of his Ancient companions would be unknowing of his writing.

And for something this important, he didn’t want to have poor handwriting to interfere.

He had tried to make up for it with a few tasteful decorations. Some golden thread to embroider the edges of the card, blending well with the creamy white paper and light blue ink.

The actual message was kept short and sweet.

Shadow Milk

Should you be interested in continuing our dance, please come to the location marked below. I will meet you under the stars.

Pure Vanilla

A bit simple but after so many drafts, simple felt better.

Still, when he had thrown the letter into the seam splitting his side from Shadow Milk’s, he couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of anxiety.

A bit of anxiety that grew and grew over the course of the day, sending him stumbling through his personal matters. He had practically fled dinner as soon as was polite, disappearing to his room to collect the bottle Hollyberry had given him. The plush was regretfully left behind as even Pure Vanilla had felt a flinch of embarrassment to show up cradling it.

The directions were sent. The spot was set.

And oh, Pure Vanilla thought as he tipped his head back, what a beautiful spot.

It was one he had stumbled upon when they first journeyed to these lands.

Still driven jittery by the rush of magic after inheriting the Souljam, Pure Vanilla had struck out alone. He counted his fortunes that he did. He had run head first into a pride of Crumpet Lions. And in his haste to escape, he had tripped and fallen right down one of the steep hills bordering the valley.

But when he lifted his head, he forgot all about the pain and the cracks splitting his dough.

The spot was truly beautiful.

An underground spring had seeped through the rock at the base of the hillside. Over the years, it had worked the soul until it created a little hollow, a perfect frame to the miniature waterfall dropping into a crystal clear pond below.

The wildflowers around were Pure Vanilla’s work. On a whim, he had brought back Burning Toffee flower seeds. Their blooms cast the hollow in a golden glow, hemmed by the great tree surrounding them. Not enough to be blinding, but enough the set off the hollow and make it feel almost magical.

But most wondrous was the view.

Not just the clear view of the sky above. But how perfectly it reflected in the pond. Looking at it, one could almost imagine that they could tumble forward and fall right into the starry sky. It was beautiful.

It was also quiet.

Pure Vanilla tilted his staff back to watch the stars above, feeling something heavy weigh on his heart.

He had settled at the edge of the pond, his staff at one hand and the bottle by the other. In front of him, misted by the waterfall, were two cups. Both still empty. The cups were simple silver, unencumbered by adornment. As he waited, Pure Vanilla fiddled with one, tracing one finger over the rim.

Shadow Milk still hadn’t arrived.

Not for the first time, Pure Vanilla ran over his thoughts in his head. He knew he had written the right location, infused with his magic in case the other needed a matrix key for the jump.

Wild beasts? No, while the Crumpet lions still roamed the area, preventing most from reaching this hollow, both Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk were accomplished mages. If a teleport failed, he had no doubt Shadow Milk could simply sweep them aside.

However, the remaining possibilities were more sombering. That perhaps none of his attempts had reached Shadow Milk. That perhaps they had, but Shadow Milk wasn’t interested. That perhaps they had, but he had done it wrong, and irreversibly ruined his chances.

Pure Vanilla tried to shake the thoughts out his head, settling back as he tried to focus his mind on the stars instead. In the end, he had left it up to Shadow Milk. Worrying it, dreading it, would bring him nothing.

Blindly, he reached for the bottle that he had brought, turning it to examine it. It was a beautiful work of art. Not one he had had before, but Hollyberry had presented it with such confidence that Pure Vanilla found himself delighted with the sheer possibility.

He had never met a drink recommended from Hollyberry that he didn’t like. Well. Except maybe the one from distilled potatoes that Hollyberry experimented with.

But this one was a beauty. A brilliant shade of gold that almost seemed to shimmer under the starlight, catching on the flurry of shining specks inside.

The book hadn’t stated what the drink should be, but luckily, the page was still far clearer than the previous step. Only that it be preferably alcoholic if possible, a tool to ‘encourage opening up’.

Just in case, Pure Vanilla had brought chamomile as well if Shadow Milk preferred something a bit less heady.

The book itself was left at home. Too much of a risk that he could lose it or damage it out here. Even the thought of damaging such a precious book sent shivers up his back. He couldn’t imagine how Librarian Cookie would react! If they were anything like the librarians he had known, a damaged book would lead to peril.

Regardless, he could likely recite that book cover to cover now.

Drinks under the stars. Everything was set.

And yet.

The second member had not yet arrived.

Idly, Pure Vanilla moved to pull the stopper. Even if Shadow Milk didn’t arrive, he could still try the drink. Hollyberry had been vibrating in astonishment when she extracted the promise that he was to tell her of the taste, even if oddly she was just as curious to know about how his ‘meeting’ went. Quotes being hers.

The stopper began to slide out-

“Ohhhhh, starting the show without me, Nilly?” Pure Vanilla jolted, nearly fumbling the bottle as Shadow Milk’s voice rang out by his ear.

He froze, sitting stupefied for a moment. “…Shadow Milk?”

He hadn’t even felt the flicker of a teleport, now the twist of Dark Moon magic. And yet, when he tilted his staff, silhouetted against the stars was Shadow Milk. For a moment, Pure Vanilla forgot how to breathe.

“Oh yes! It’s I, your favorite jester! Maybe even the most favorite in your case.” Shadow Milk purred, arms flinging wide as he gestured. “Here to see what you have planned for this oh-so-amusing play of yours! And yet, here I find you letting the curtains rise without me? How mean! How dastardly!”

“You came!” PV grabs Shadow Milk outstretched hand when he gestures, pulling it close with a sweet smile. Almost unheard was a slight odd hitch in Shadow Milk’s breath. Too irregular to be illness, not quite right for chronic. Surprise, maybe?

Pure Vanilla lets go just as fast, realizing that perhaps the sudden grab went too far. But still, he couldn’t help his beaming smile.

Shadow Milk had actually come! It worked! The book had been telling the truth and he hadn’t messed it up so far! A shiver of delight filled him from his head to his toes.

It wasn’t a massive step, but it was a start.

“How could I miss this little show that you’re putting on!” Shadow Milk said, hovering in the air as if he couldn’t deign to touch the soft grass below.

Pure Vanilla was pleased to see the other looking so healthy now. Their last meeting, Shadow Milk had been on the verge of crumbling himself, magic began to overflow and unravel him from the seams out.

Now, the other was as perfectly poised as ever. Costume and mask on, Pure Vanilla mused. Shadow Milk looked more ready to astound an audience than drink with a (potential) friend under the stars.

Still, was it just his overactive healer mind or did the other look a little bit… tired? Something dark shading under his two toned eyes, a small sway to his effortless hover.

“He-lloooooo, Beast Yeast to Nilly?” Shadow Milk said, snapping his fingers. “Aren’t you supposed to be offering me a drink now?”

“Oh, oh, yes!” Pure Vanilla said, pulling the cup closer to where he sat. He tilted his head back to where he could hear Shadow Milk. “Would you prefer tea or this mead? It’s certain to be good either way.”

Shadow Milk tilted his head to the side, considering the bottle. Something flashed across his face, too quick to make out. “The bottle! Might as well go for tradition!” Shadow Milk said. Pure Vanilla nodded, beginning to carefully pour the mead into the cups he had chosen.

“I was a bit worried you didn’t enjoy the gifts.” He said, offering Shadow Milk a quiet smile and nod. “It’s my first time doing this and I wasn’t quite certain how well I’ve been performing.”

He offered the cup, but Shadow Milk didn’t take it. “They were… okay. For crumbs, that is.” Shadow Milk said, his voice taking on a hiss at the end. “Had to go overboard didn’t you, with the food?”

“Ah.” Pure Vanilla flushed. “My apologies! I was trying to make it perfect and instead, I think I got a bit out of hand.”

He nearly continues to share his little mishap of warping all the food across, but Shadow Milk interrupted first. “Enjoying the little trick you found out using my void?” He said. Pure Vanilla considers this for a moment.

“It was a theory, at first.” He said, proffering the cup and happy to see Shadow Milk deign to take it now. “I had thought that after the connection we made, it was possible that if you could come to visit, so could I.”

He coughed, a touch awkward. “But I presumed you’d prefer me not to visit, for now.”

“Oh?” Shadow Milk said, something wicked curling across his face. Pure Vanilla had a feeling that the other was only allowing the matter of using the shared void drop for now. “Even if I was to give you a little taste of what I’m up to? Me and your tragic obsession, Dark Enchantress?”

The name still brought a full ache. Duller now, with meeting White Lily again and his own growth. But Pure Vanilla didn’t think he would ever stop reeling from the blow.

“No.” He said, steeling himself and shaking his head. “I would not violate your privacy like that. I cannot promise I won’t try to stop you outside of this, setting this aside or no. But if I do, it will be open and honest.”

A bridge broken was not easily mended. Pure Vanilla knew meeting Shadow Milk on the battlefield was a possibility. He would not patronize either of them by implying it was not.

But still, the hope for a better way offered by the book, lingered.

“Spare me the theatrics.” Shadow Milk said, lifting the cup and examining it. Emboldened, Pure Vanilla raised his own. But in the gaze of his staff, he watched dark smoke curl around the cup, Shadow Milk looking far more focused for a moment.

“It’s not poisoned.” He said, only a touch amused when it clicked what was going on. The familiarity of the spell. “I wouldn’t distort something like that for your pain.”

And to show his sincerity, he took the first sip.

The first sip made him hum in delight. The second was smoother. Rolling notes of honey and something a little fruity. Apple perhaps? Or maybe pears? Something sweet and mild on the edge of the mead.

The third told him that this was going to be a drink to be wary of. It was strong.

“Perhaps don’t drink too fast.” Pure Vanilla said, clearing his throat as he lowered his drink. “But it’s truly good.”

Shadow Milk didn’t drink, but he did pick the cup up, examining it carefully. That was enough that Pure Vanilla would count it as a win.

“For tonight, I was thinking-“ About what this friendship could mean. But instead, Shadow Milk was leaning forward, eyecings alight.

“Awwww, does Silly-VANILLY have plaaaaans?” Shadow Milk crooned as he leaned in, head propped on his hands. The cup dropped to hover in the air. His feet kicked idly in the air as something wicked curved his lips. “Oooooo, let me guess~! Are you finally going to give me a nickname?”

“A nickname?” Pure Vanilla said, the glow of his staff blinking a few times. When did that come in?

“Yeah, a nickname~! Here I am, with a whole army of oh so creative nicknames for you! Nilly, nilla, pookie bear, all the good stuff! ” Shadow Milk said, ticking off the nicknames on his fingers. “And here you are, calling me the same boring nickname! Aren’t we supposed to be close? And yet you keep calling me by my full name! How. Mean.”

Pure Vanilla paused, mulling it over as he took another sip of his drink. Shadow Milk had a point, didn’t he? Friends called each other by nicknames. Certainly, his own friends had plenty for him.

What did it mean that Shadow Milk had been using nicknames for him for so long?

“Milk? Milky?” Pure Vanilla tried, seeing a flicker of movement as Shadow Milk suddenly jerked in place. “Ah, no, Shade maybe? Or perhaps Shady? No…”

“So uncreative-“

“Milly!” Pure Vanilla said, setting his drink down so he could clap his hands together. He beamed at Shadow Milk who was staring at him. Their hand had fallen from their chin, dangling in the air. “It’s perfect.”

“…milly.” Shadow Milk drawled, his hand dropping from where it had frozen in the air. Almost absently, Shadow Milk reached for his cup and took a sip. He stared at the cup for a moment before unimpressed eyes came up to look at Pure Vanilla again. “Out of all the nicknames in the world, you called me Milly. Your friends didn’t let you name anything, did they?”

…well. At least the other had taken a sip?

“I think it’s lovely.” Pure Vanilla defended. Their friends didn’t let them name things, but that was besides the point! “It’s short, sweet, rolls off the tongue well! And it rhymes with how you call me Nilly.”

Shadow Milk spluttered, their free hand moving to cover their face. “That’s awful! For a rhyme?”” He said, leaning back in the air. Pure Vanilla felt something skitter up their back, their hands falling to their lap.

“Ah. I’ll try again then.” He said. He had found it delightful, but he’d rather not use it if it caused Shadow Milk any distress. “What about-“

Pure Vanilla was cut off before he could finish. “Well, I didn’t say you couldn’t use it!” Shadow Milk said with a sniff, still covering their face. “You built your oven, now you’ll just have to bake in it.”

…ah. Hm.

For a moment, Pure Vanilla stared in silence. And then a smile bloomed on his lips, something warm settling in his chest. “Milly, then.”

It really did roll off the tongue well.

Shadow Milk scoffed. “I don’t know what I expected from someone who picked dandelions for the wreath.”

Pure Vanilla froze. “Was there something wrong with the dandelions?” He said. He had thought that they must be okay, and Faerie Thyme had shown no worry! But oh, meanings could shift, couldn’t they?

Had he perhaps made a massive faux pas by offering them? Did they have some meaning he wasn’t aware of?

Shadow Milk flicked Pure Vanilla’s cheek, drawing a soft yelp as he was drawn out of his spiral. “I have a flower I made already, fool! Why not use milk crowns? You toss aside the flower I created with my own magic? For what, a dandelion? What could that even mean?”

“Hardy.”

“What?” Shadow Milk said, his hand dropping, something dark gathering around him.

Pure Vanilla picked up and fidgeted with his cup, taking another sip. “I wanted something that could fit the bond I was hoping to build with you.” He confessed. “Dandelions are survivors. They find the tiniest of cracks, the worst conditions, and they grow anyways. Hopeful. They’re supposed to grant wishes.”

The gardeners had loathed them, but Pure Vanilla had found that war waged quite admirable. No matter what the gardeners threw at them, the dandelions survived.

And for what purpose? Were the dandelions not as pretty as any other flower? Certainly, they were no Vanilla Orchid, but they kept an unmistakable charm. It was only by the gardeners threatening to quit that he stopped encouraging them in the public gardens.

His private gardens were another matter.

“And honestly, even if they weren’t the flowers you made, they reminded me of you.” Pure Vanilla finished.

“Oh?” Shadow Milk said, his face worryingly blank.

“I suppose you’ll have to wait to find that bit out. Consider it encouragement to come to the next invitation.” Pure Vanilla said, a smile slanting his face. This was what friends were supposed to do, yes? Tease?

He drew from Golden Cheese, who had the habit of throwing out tidbits before they hated off after the next piece of treasure. Their confidence was enviable, and certainly magnetic. And a little bit of banter just felt right.

For a moment, Shadow Milk was frozen. And then they unraveled, one hand flying up to rest on their forehead. “Nilly! How unfun you are!”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? No, ah, spoiler alarms?” Shadow Milk made a spluttering sound and Pure Vanilla tried again. “Villainous… soliquay?”

“Soliloquy.” Shadow Milk said, face blank. They took another sip of their drink, eyes rolling. “Soliloquy! Have you not been to the theater once!”

“Does seeing your play in Beast Yeast count?” Pure Vanilla said. He flinched as Shadow Milk suddenly dropped right in front of his staff, suddenly the only thing he could see.

“I’m cancelling this. This is awful. I want a new thief.” Shadow Milk sniffed. “All that fancy-dancy Academy education and where have the standards gone? You steal from my pool of limitless knowledge and don’t know the difference between foreshadowing and soliloquy?”

Pure Vanilla pressed a hand over his mouth to smother a laugh. “I studied healing. And occasionally dabbled in other practices. Theater was… not a subject I partook in.”

If he wasn’t off on an adventure, he was caught up in a whirl of raiding the library and hiding their less than allowable experiments from the teachers. By the time he had consideration for the theater, most plays were about him and his friends which were…

He shuddered. Golden Cheese had managed to get kicked out of one once after loudly correcting everything they got wrong. Pure Vanilla had decided to wait and then…

Not much time for the theater.

“Uh, oven to Pure Vanilla cookie?” A hand trailed across his shoulder. Automatically, Pure Vanilla shifted to speak and then-

Pure Vanilla winced and jerked back, reaching behind him.

He can almost feel the temperature drop, curling shadows telling him he’s made a mistake even before he sees the rage settle in Shadow Milk’s face, their hands flying into fists and face twisting.

“Can’t even touch me?” Shadow Milk snarls, bolt upright. “You set up this whole play! For me! And yet the oh-so-noble TRUTH can’t stop lying-“

Pure Vanilla pulled the lock of hair free that he had accidentally tugged when he shifted back, with a wince. “Sorry about that.” He said, taking a deep breath. “I’m not really used to it being so long now.”

Part of him was half tempted to chop it off, gift from the Witches and delight to some of his friends, or no. If it was in his younger days, he would have had to chop it short. Fledgeling healer and long hair didn’t mix well.

It still felt odd to break the habit after so long. He found himself having to constantly reconsider or risk getting his hair caught in something.

Pure Vanilla inclined his head when he realized Shadow Milk wasn’t speaking. The other had stilled, something oddly blank to their eyes, feet almost grazing the ground. Pure Vanilla felt his breath stick in his chest, an odd sense of pressure even as he tilted his head.

He had hit something he hadn’t even noticed existed with that accidental shift. For a moment, Shadow Milk had dropped the banter and shown him something real.

“I’m serious about it.” He said quietly. Shadow Milk didn’t look back at him, picking up and examining his cup as if it held all the secrets of Cookiekind. Maybe for him, it did.

“Oh, suuuure. You’re serious.” Shadow Milk said, waving a flippant hand. Another deep drink. Hollyberry would be pleased to know her choice had charmed yet another. “So serious! No plans, no trickery, and deceit here. Gallivanting around and playing with things you don’t understand, playing the part of the hero.”

Pure Vanilla was almost surprised by the sudden swell of hurt in his chest as he took a deep draught of his own drink. He had known this wasn’t going to be easy, and yet, just as surprising was how much hurt there was for Shadow Milk. What kind of people had he known, to be so guarded? To have even Pure Vanilla’s clumsy deception cut so deep?

Or maybe, part of him whispered, you made the lie a bit too believable.

Pure Vanilla leaned forward, feeling the odd spark of magic when his blind eyes caught Shadow Milk’s gaze. “There’s no trickery here.” He whispered. “And I am deeply, truly sorry for my deception though I cannot fully apologize for the path I took. This is not meant to be another. If you do not wish to continue…”

He couldn’t quite make himself continue. He’d keep trying. The book would be set aside to return to the library, but Pure Vanilla knew that somewhere deep inside Shadow Milk was a loneliness he wanted to soothe.

His eyes prickled with the odd knowing that Shadow Milk held his gaze for far too long, the quiet worry of a sugar grub under the gaze of a jelly crow.

Before they kicked off the brief graze with the ground, eyes rolling. “And to think someone so incompetent stole my Souljam.” They said, looking away.

“Not all of us can have hair as tremendously useful as yours.” Pure Vanilla said, carefully arranging his own so it wouldn’t be in the way again. His fingers danced across the strand, gathering them up and sweeping them free, wincing when he felt the rare but odd twig or dried bit of mud. Gift from the Witches, magical, all that. Goodness.

“Oh?” Shadow Milk purred, rolling the words like the sweetest venom. “You like my hair?”

Something soft, almost satiny, curled around his wrist and Pure Vanilla let the staff’s gaze change. One lock of Shadow Milk’s hair had curled around him, the tip flicking against his skin.

Pure Vanilla hummed softly, reaching for it with his free hand, tracing his finger over the magic infused texture. It jerked, but didn’t pull away. “It’s fascinating.” He admitted. “I’m almost jealous. I couldn’t imagine the innate magic that must go into maintaining it. It suits you.”

Pleasingly, the other looked far more settled then the last time they had seen them. Hair in their usual style, instead of the eerie, dripping mess it had become moments before the other had staggered through the portal.

It was so rare to see such a sight, magic almost seeming to bleed out of someone. The strands almost seemed to ooze even as they showed a curious capacity for prehensibility. The sheer reserves Shadow Milk must maintain must be monumental, to have magic seep in such a controlled manner.

A quiet scoff, the hair lock unravelling from his wrist but not until after one last flick. “Such a pretty tongue you have.” Shadow Milk said, sitting back in the air.

“Hollyberry says I’m a chatty drinker.” Pure Vanilla said frankly. He smothers a giggle at the thought. He feels himself almost sway after the other, because if he just reached out, he could take them by the hand himself-

And a dangerously cuddly drunk. Pure Vanilla nudges the drink away. He needed to cut himself off and soon. Goodness knows he didn’t want to make Shadow Milk uncomfortable.

The process seemed to be going tremendously well but that didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of pushing it further. The courtship meant that he needed to make space for Shadow Milk to move as he was comfortable, not drunkenly turn this into a cuddling session. Something that his Ancient friends would be fine with, used to it after years of getting together over drinks, but certainly not for this delicate process.

Shadow Milk scoffed. “Why even get drunk?” He said, taking a sip from his own cup. “Didn’t bother to learn the opposing charm? Too wild and crazy for you? I suppose I can’t expect anything from someone who didn’t even attend a play.”

Pure Vanilla hummed, tracing the rim of the cup. “No, I know it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s one of the first charms I learned when I started studying healing. You know it?”

He couldn’t help the small lilt of surprise, of such a minor sobering charm being known by Shadow Milk. It was a little thing, requiring basically no magic or skill.

“Know it? Nilly, I MADE it!” Shadow Milk said. He threw back the rest of the cup, grinning at Pure Vanilla. A small flicker of gold dripped from the corner of his mouth. As Pure Vanilla watched, strangely captivated, a silver tongue flicked out, capturing it.

He swallowed hard, looking away, not quite sure what he was feeling. “That’s incredibly impressive!” Pure Vanilla said, truly honest. “To make a charm that worked so well that it truly stood the test of time.”

That brought a pleased hum out of Shadow Milk, eyes becoming half lidded. “Oh, that’s easy as a snap for me!” He said, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “Not all of us are copycats, stealing everything we had.”

Of course he need to throw in another jab. But it was bit easier to think of it fondly now, let it roll of as a joke instead of the panic attack that it used to be.

“Still, it’s quite well woven.” Pure Vanilla said. And, unable to help himself. “You must have not been watching me well then. I contributed quite a few charms to the grimoires myself.”

Not all were still used today. But he was proud to say that that wasn’t due to poor quality or weaving! Those still unused were either lost in the war, or the Academy had refused to release them for study.

Speaking of the Academy… how had a charm Shadow Milk made end up on the books? It was a useful beginner charm, but not something Pure Vanilla would expect to make the long journey from Beast Yeast. He could dismiss it as being common enough most travelers may learn but…

Something about it just kept hovering in the back of his mind. Not in the eerie whisper of the Light of Truth. But like a theory on the back burner.

From most, his point would be impressive. From Shadow Milk, it garnered an amused eyeroll. “Parlor tricks.” He said, with a flippant wave. “Just a clumsy little crumb flinging magic to and fro! Practically minor magic at that.”

His lips moved faster than his mind, loosened by drink. “And you can do better?” Pure Vanilla said. Even as he said it, he finds himself wincing at how undiplomatic the words were.

Shadow Milk’s eyes darkened, something heavy filling the air around him with the scent of milk and rotting flowers, too sweet and yet too muted at the same time. Sickly almost. It made Pure Vanilla ache to reach out and ask him what was wrong, sweep a hand over their brow.

”Go ahead and see.”

A snap.

For a moment, he stared at Shadow Milk. Their eyes flickered. “I’m sorry?” Pure Vanilla said. Perhaps it was time he cast the sobering charm for himself. Had he missed something in the haze?

Shadow Milk actually froze for a moment, a scene so amusing that Pure Vanilla almost found himself giggling. And then the other rolled their eyes, reaching forward.

Trust, Pure Vanilla reminded himself. But it didn’t stop the jitter of nervousness when Shadow Milk touched his staff. The instant urge to move it before it could get destroyed.

But it wasn’t destroyed. Instead, Shadow Milk tilted it back to face the sky. Their touch was almost gentle, lingering, hand slithering over the cane.

Above them, the night sky changed.

“Just a mere parlor trick has you gaping like a fool! Did they not teach this in your oh so beloved Academy?” Shadow Milk said, giggling. Despite himself, Pure Vanilla giggled too.

“No, nothing like this.” Pure Vanilla said, taking in a that was so familiar and yet so foreign. The constellations he knew were shattered. Distorted. A sky from centuries, maybe even millennia ago-

Oh.

Something more somber creeps in, dragging him back to the ground in moments.

“I’m sorry.” He hears himself say.

“Oh?”

“It must have been awful to have even the sky change.” Pure Vanilla said, his chest feeling cold. “I- after I regained my memories, my gardens were dead. I was… distraught.”

Distraught was a light word for it. He had kept a brave face for the others but the moment he was left to his dusty quarters, he had fallen to the ground like the sky had caved in. It was a little embarrassing to cry over the flowers when there was so much more to mourn. Especially when their death wasn’t due to the massacre or a rampage, but simply some of the stasis spell not stretching over them.

But in a way, finding out some of the gardens hadn’t survived had been the final stroke that nothing was the same. That the time he knew was long gone, taking even flowers.

Until there was nothing left but memories. Only a scarce handful who even knew what those flowers meant. Who had tended them, how they looked in bloom.

“Oh how humble! How considerate! You think some measly flowers compare to unjust and cruel punishment?” Shadow Milk scoffed. “Getting in your jabs here?”

“No. Empathizing. Or trying to.” Pure Vanilla said softly, shaking his head. “I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be pulled away for so long that even the very stars I knew changed.”

“I could show you.” Shadow Milk said. But Pure Vanilla doesn’t flinch even as black flickers on the edge of his staff’s vision. “Try that on for a costume size! Our noble hero, tossed in the same AWFUL DOUBLE CROSSING TRAP OF THE WITCHES!”

“I’d prefer you didn’t. It would make it rather difficult to finish out the rest of this.” Pure Vanilla said, thinking of the book. The slow chipping away at maybe becoming friends.

Silence greeted him.

“Shad- Milly?” The nickname rolled off his inexperienced tongue clumsily. Pure Vanilla shifted, about to reach out for the staff.

“I suppose it would.” Pure Vanilla’s shoulders relaxed minutely when Shadow Milk finally replied. “I suppose I’ll be watching you fumble around for a bit longer than! Don’t disappoint your oh so intrigued audience!”

He must be posing again, Pure Vanilla thought, his lips curving in a smile. He could almost see the pose in his mind, the same indolent pose as if sprawled on an invisible couch and waiting for adulation. It was one he had seen before as Truthless Recluse.

“You could give me a few hints.” Pure Vanilla said, tilting his head back even if it wouldn’t help him see the other any better. “The next step-“

“And ruin the suspense? The action? The DRAMA?” Shadow Milk crowed. “Nuh uh uh, Nilly~! This is. All. On. You.”

Pure Vanilla snorted. “Very well then.” He said. “I’ll give it my best.”

“And NO finagling any hints from me! I want to see you trip and fall on your face!” Shadow Milk said. His voice was closer now. Perhaps hovering above him? “Oh no, what will you do with your conversational topic gone?”

“Could you tell me about your constellations?” Pure Vanilla tried. He knew there must be patterns to the stars above, others had been looking to the stars for millennia to make stories. But he could not pick out his own.

“And why should I?” The answer came without missing a beat. Shadow Milk shifted, Pure Vanilla finally seeing the other floating above his staff. Only just barely could he see the other’s face.

Unhappy. But not overly so. More… waiting. Curious.

“You’re Knowledge?” Pure Vanilla said, and something flickers across those eyes. “Come now, enlighten this poor fool.”

The moment freezes. For a moment, Pure Vanilla wonders if he’s gone too far. Stepped over the thin line of propriety- no. Leaped over. Well and truly left that line in his dust, the fool that he was. Long past the need for a charm, too used to the camaraderie of the Ancient to realize that he had only just stepped on a path to friendship with Shadow Milk.

“Apologies. I think the drink got away with my tongue.” Pure Vanilla said, drooping like a flower denied sunlight. When had his cup emptied? He sets it down and raises a hand, beginning the process of channeling magic for the sobering charm. It came easily enough, so simple that he didn’t even need his staff.

Something cold grabs his hand.

Pure Vanilla face twists as he recognized it, cold fingers interlacing with his. The magic seeped away, embers flickering around their intertwined hands.

Shadow Milk was holding his hand.

“Silly-nilly. So so foolish.” Shadow Milk cooed, syrupy-sweet. “Just Can’t help pushing, can you? Just can’t help yourself from stumbling right after the wolf even when you’re nothing more than a helpless little lamb!”

A pause.

Pure Vanilla’s breath catches in his throat as he hears the rattle of the bottle tilting, liquid draining away. For some reason, anything he could say seems to slip away from his mind, melting like sugar dropped into water.

“Why don’t you call for me by nickname?” Shadow Milk crooned, his voice far closer now. The soft thud of the bottle being set down. “You put so much effort into coming up with it, didn’t you?”

Pure Vanilla swallowed, the motion feeling oddly difficult. “Milly.” He said, mildly. Something bolstered him on, an odd sort of daring rising in his chest. Daring made him tug on the hand still holding his, feeling the weightless glide of Shadow Milk drawing closer. “Can you tell me about your stars?”

“Not today.”

Pure Vanilla nearly staggers under the weight of disappointment and a flicker of embarrassment. A soft cackle reaches his ears.

“Oh, Nilly, don’t look so disappointed! Maybe if you’re very good, I’ll tell you a bit about them. But it’s time I bid goodbye and hop off this stage!” Shadow Milk said. Pure Vanilla’s shoulders slumped.

“I was hoping-“

“Ah, ah, ah! I am a very busy Beast after all! Tricks to play, plays to write, and- ooooo, no spoilers!” Shadow Milk said. There was the soft rustling noise of the cup being set down.

For a moment, Pure Vanilla wants to rise. He wants to wrap his arms around Shadow Milk and ask him to stay. Make the offer once again, stay and be his friend. Keep his company. Stay and tell him about the stars.

Instead, he forced himself to sit, feeling oddly cold despite his new heavier outfit. Pure Vanilla had stumbled into this book after already jumping it and throwing away his chance. If this friendship was to work, he had to give it room to grow. It was already delicate enough as it was, with both being on separate sides.

This night was monumental already, he reminded himself. He and Shadow Milk had talked! Almost friendly! No one had been hurt and no one had started screaming.

The book really was magical.

“So be it.” Pure Vanilla said. “I wish you safe travels. And be wary of the Crumpet Lions. Some prefer to hunt at night.”

“Nilly, Nilly, you should really be more worried of what I could do to those lions.”

And in a moment, something soft ghosted across his cheek. Too quick for him to turn his staff, and blind, Pure Vanilla could only guess at the pressure. A teasing flick of Shadow Milk’s hair? A warning shot? Perhaps his mind playing tricks on him?

“See ya next time, Nilly.” Shadow Milk whispers, their breath flickering across his skin. And with the pop of a magic spell, he knows Shadow Milk is gone.

Pure Vanilla is left staring blindly into empty space, his gaze still filled with nothing but stars. Between one moment and the next, Shadow Milk’s spell had faded.

Ah, well, it seems like Shadow Milk might have become open to being friends? His fingertips reach up, drifting over the phantom touch, wondering. Underneath his fingertips feels far too warm, something squirming in his chest.

“Maybe next time I’ll understand him.” Pure Vanilla sighed. He reached for the half full cup Shadow Milk left behind, sipping it as he watched the stars above.

They were normal again. His stars, the stars he grew up with.

And yet, he almost thinks he could still see Shadow Milk’s stars.

Chapter Text

Not quite a step is the writing of a letter to seal the time spent together and express one’s continued interest in ——. A well written letter must be meaningful and ro——— in order to —- and show the other -

Pure Vanilla hummed as he listened to the gentle clicking of the printing blocks. Surrounded by the soothing warmth of his magic, he almost felt ready to drift off to the gentle, rhythmic sound. He rested his hand on his cheek, eyes closed. With his magic guiding the blocks, there was no need for sight.

He had to admit, he had a bit of apprehension about this step when reviewing the book before the meeting.

But in the end, the book was right! After seeing Shadow Milk, after getting to actually talk with the other in such a comfortable situation, he found the words tumbling free.

After a nap and a good breakfast, throughout which he found himself humming a song caught in his head, Pure Vanilla had settled in at his desk.

Perhaps the day after was a bit soon, but the book didn’t say not to! And Pure Vanilla had always preferred being prompt in his letters.

Not like Hollyberry, he thought, a lip twitching nearly sending a letter to the wrong place. Or even White Lily. Both had a tendency to send letters late, or forget to send them at all. Even when they turned up, they were hastily written, often… messy things.

Hollyberry had sent one with teeth marks once! Not to mention the one White Lily sent which was in the active process of melting when its courier had cautiously brought it to his desk.

“Pure Vanilla?”

A block clicked, the letter ‘m’ suddenly printed on his desk in golden ink. Pure Vanilla sat up, spinning his staff to face the door.

Unbidden, he felt his lips curl into a smile. “Children.” He greeted, seeing the trio tumble into the room. The smile widened when Custard bounced in with wide, curious eyes and Chili stomped after.

“Not a child.” They snapped, as heated as their name. Pure Vanilla nodded, allowing them to believe that as a healer, he couldn’t notice their more malleable magic, their less detailed adornments.

If Chili preferred to be treated as an adult, he did not plan to argue, nor question why. Only hope that he made them feel more comfortable with opening up.

“Wotcha humming?” Gingerbrave said, peeking up over the edge of the desk. Pure Vanilla shifted his staff, knowing Gingerbrave was already avoiding blocking it but wanting to make him more comfortable.

“Oh just a little ballad from back in my day.” Pure Vanilla said. He hummed a few more bars. “Sunlit flowers, meetings… I could never remember the lyrics but I always found the melody quite pretty.”

The song had been quite popular before the war. He had often heard it drifting through the streets while he strolled. Soft and sweet and a reminder of golden days.

“It is pretty.” Strawberry whispered, clambering up onto the couch.

“I’m glad to hear that I do it some justice.” Pure Vanilla said. As for music talents, he could whistle like a bird, but he never had quite the talent of Dark Cacao. “It makes for a nice diversion during my work.”

“As your king, I declare you should tell me what you’re doing!” Custard said, beaming up at him. Pure Vanilla pressed a hand to his mouth.

“Ah, if it is an order from my king.” Pure Vanilla agreed, pretending he didn’t notice Chili glaring him down as if there was even a thought that he might say now. “I’m writing a letter to a friend.” Potential friend, Pure Vanilla added in his mind.

“Oh! Did Dark Cacao or Golden Cheese reply already?” Gingerbrave said, clambering up into the pile Wizard and Strawberry had already made on the chair he set aside for them. He tucked himself into their sides, half underneath Strawberry Cookie as they slowly leaned on top of him.

He let the thought bring a warm glow to his chest. It had been a while since his rooms had held so much life to them. Not that they hadn’t been lively before, but he had to admit, this little group had opened up his life in ways he hadn’t truly expected.

No one but the other Ancients had so casually came into his room as if with such calm acceptance of their closeness. People were kind but after his trials, he always felt like he was held at arms length.

Someone to idolize, not someone to pull up a chair with, to be nosy towards, to tease.

It did a handy job of combatting the flare of worry at the reminder. “Not yet.” Pure Vanilla said, thoughts straying towards drafts tucked in the top drawer of his desk. Driven by worry, he had stayed awake to write a few more drafts, to be sent out if he didn’t have an answer. Not just to his friends, but to some of their closest advisors and companions.

If anything happened, he was certain they would alert him. But the worry lingered, buoyed by the memory of his own time in the belly of the Beast.

He had been in no state to write letters. If their experience was anything similar, could they write a letter for help?

Patience, Pure Vanilla told himself. He knew his friends as well as his own staff. If he could climb out from the depths he had plunged to, they could rise above their own circumstances. Each had defeated their own trials, defended their own kingdoms.

And yet, the fear lingered.

“Then who is it for?” Wizard said. They let out a soft oof, beginning to wriggle when Chili suddenly flopped on top of them. Custard perched on the very edge of the couch, only their vibrating anticipation showing how much they longed to clamber into the pile.

Mentally, Pure Vanilla sighed, noting it to casually bring up during their tutorship time over kingdom affairs. He had been using the time to also make gentle headway on allowing Custard to be a child, not a child so deeply devoted to being seen as noble that he would resist some of his more childish urges or to use sideways words to try and make them “allowable”.

Before Pure Vanilla could speak, Gingerbrave bounced in his chair. “Ooo! Can we guess?” He said.

Chili’s eyes glittered, Wizard letting out another annoyed oof as she suddenly pushed off of him. “Is there a prize if we guess right?”

Pure Vanilla tilted his head, a bit lollipop-owlishy. “I suppose you can try.” He said slowly. He made no secret of the letters that he sent to his friends. Shadow Milk’s would not be the first.

Gingerbrave whooped, flinging himself off the couch and sending the whole group tumbling, scrambling to their own feet.

He relaxed, raising his arms to let the children tuck in around him as they piled off the chair to read the letter, warmth pressing into his side. Even as they rumpled his robe, beginning to hiss and jostle and squabble for space. Like trying to tuck a posse of rambunctious sheep under his arms, Pure Vanilla thought fondly.

Chili Pepper bypassed it entirely, hopping up to perch on the edge of his massive desk like some sort of crimson bird. After pausing for a moment, they reached down and pulled Custard onto the desk, playing it off as examining the jewels lining his collar.

Adorable, Pure Vanilla said, his thoughts flickering to the letter in front of him.

All that was missing was a name.

Dear-

Thank you for allowing me the enjoyment of your company last night. Seeing the warm light of the burning toffee flowers flicker over your face is a glad sight indeed.

I know we got off to a poor start and I appreciate your willingness to contemplate this possibility. I truly enjoyed your company last night. It was good to learn more about you.

This dance of ours may be deeply complicated, and I’m not sure if you may yet stand on the same wish that I have. I was delighted to find that perhaps these steps may offer an opening for both of us to step forward together.

I am hopeful of continuing this possibility, as long as you will have me.

Pure Vanilla

Short, and hopefully as meaningful as needed. Despite the common perception, Pure Vanilla had always found himself struggling in matters of prose.

Speech was easy. Talking to people was easy, he had talked all his life. To his sheep, to his plants, to his caretaker. But words? He had learned his writing for practicality first, for the blunt prose of the Academy and especially that of a healer.

He knew the letter was a bit clumsy. He had attempted at points for a more flowery prose, warring with his own blunt conciseness. But, hopefully, the meaning was still there.

Shadow Milk would find it silly, Pure Vanilla said, suddenly feeling oddly fond and aching. The memory of the other’s voice hissing over his attempt at saying soliloquy, a word he had practiced more now.

He could almost hear the other now, cackling over his clumsy prose, compared to their… false but still rich storytelling.

Almost suddenly, achingly fast, he wanted to hear Shadow Milk tell a real story. Not a lie over the past, not a rant or mockery disguised as Truth, but to tell the stories the other was so talented in. Pure Vanilla considered the thought for a moment, the idea of being so close, before boxing it away for now.

Maybe. Maybe later.

“You met them last night?” Strawberry noted immediately, and he could almost feel her curious gaze peering up at him. Pure Vanilla nodded.

“Perfectly safe.” He assured. There was no doubt in his mind of his safety. He had even alerted Black Raisin of him leaving. They hadn’t approved, but neither had they stopped him or pressed to go.

His own grasp of magic was such that within the borders of his own kingdom, it wasn’t exactly difficult to move from place to place.

“Aw, I don’t know who this is at all!” Gingerbrave complained, nearly knocking over Wizard if it wasn’t for his fast reflexes instantly having him reaching to steady the other. “Who could you have met last night?”

“I think I know who it is!” Wizard declared, wriggling out of Gingerbrave’s hands. He wilted under the force of everyone’s curiosity. “Ah- but I’m not quite sure actually! Just a figure of speech.”

“Just say you wanted to look smart.” Chili Pepper remarked loftily. Wizard hissed back at them.

Custard tilted his head, shaking his head as he slowly inched off the table. “What’s the point of this letter?” He said. “Shouldn’t letters be big important official notices of Royal… Stuff?”

Oh, dear. Gently, Pure Vanilla shook his head. “Sometimes, you can just send a letter to a friend just to let them know you’re thinking of them.”

He had kept every letter his friends had ever written to him. At first, scraps sent to the Academy. Later, letters were the easiest way to stay in touch as their Kingdoms rose and it became harder and harder to be as free as they once were.

If he let go of his connection to his staff’s gaze, he could recall every single word, imprinted on his memory. Jokes, calls for meeting, notice of news.

Bittersweet, but sweet all the same.

“Yeah! And after we came back from Dark Cacao and Hollyberry kingdom, even Golden Cheese, we brought back a whole pile of letters for Pure Vanilla from his friends.” Wizard said, puffing up. Pure Vanilla could practically feel himself melting.

“That you did.” He could almost feel himself burning at the memory. That each of them had continued to write, even if the letters would never be sent. The news of Dark Cacao having a child and their childhood, Hollyberry’s bursting missives of adventure, and Golden Cheese’s lavish letters of golden paradise.

“Except for.” Gingerbrave barrels into the name before he can stop, hesitating only moments after it. “White Lily.”

“She would have written if she could.” Pure Vanilla said. Most likely summaries of her research, sweetly floral scented but the same blunt prose as his, learned together.

Honestly, he was so grateful to have her back that he could care less about the letters.

Strawberry tilted their head, the motion brushing against his arm. “I’ve never sent any letters to my friends.” They said, looking a little terrified. “Should I?”

“You can, if you want to.” Pure Vanilla said. Surely, everyone should try it at least once… An idea snapped into place, settling into mind. “In fact, why not write letters for each other right now?”

The got all of their attention on him. “Really?” Gingerbrave said, beginning to bounce under his arm.

“Why not?” Pure Vanilla said. Carefully, he tugged away an arm from over their shoulders, letting his hand trace down the drawers until he stopped on one in particular. From it, he withdrew a handful of lesser used writing utensils and a sheaf of creamy paper.

“Why don’t you all write letters for each other. Take different spots in the room, and no peeking! After, my birds will deliver the letters for you!” He offered the materials with a flourish.

Gingerbrave leaped upon them first, darting off to fling himself onto the couch. Wizard snatch his a half moment before Strawberry hesitantly took some paper and a pink inked fountain pen.

A bit surprisingly, Chili took a few papers and a pen before Custard. But perhaps not, as that was the only bejeweled pen that Pure Vanilla had. A rather gaudy gift from an ambassador with… dissimilar taste from his. He rather hoped she liked it.

Only Custard was left, staring at the materials. “This doesn’t seem like the kind of thing a king would do.”

“Ah.” Pure Vanilla said, nodding in a way he hoped passed for wise. “But a good king also knows how to care for his friends.”

“Perhaps,” he added. “You could also use this as work for your own missives? If it helps to think of it that way?”

He couldn’t miss the glitter in Custard’s eyes as they carefully grabbed the paper, eyes lighting up when they found a pretty cream colored pen. Pure Vanilla let his staff’s gaze drift over the room as they each settled into their spots, Wizard defending his from Chili Pepper’s teasing grabs, with satisfaction, before looking back at his own.

After a moment of hesitation, he addressed the letter to Milly. Shadow Milk had wanted the nickname, did he not? Pure Vanilla didn’t want to seem like he was holding the other at arm’s length.

Pure Vanilla opened the lowest set of drawers, knowing without sight that only a sheaf of papers were held there. A sheaf of papers he had been working on in fits and spurts since the first night of the wreath.

One of the hardest parts of the book was the very next step and the exemplary student he tried to be, he had been working on a bit early.

Give your friend something that took interest in their hobbies. Mutual ground. His hand hesitated over the sheaf of papers before pulling away.

Later. Later, he’d deliver the letter after digging out the missing doll, still tucked away from where he had set it aside last night. Later, he would finish the project and send it to Shadow Milk. He didn’t want to stumble now, when he was so close, because he got overzealous.

For now, he would linger in the friends he had.

Pure Vanilla shut the drawer, turning back to the sight his staff was still taking in. The children, still scattered to their various corners, hard at work.

Custard with his beautiful calligraphy, Strawberry’s tiny and neat handwriting, Chili’s scrawl, and Wizard’s careful print. He paused by Gingerbrave who was carefully drawing. Rather adorable little pictures, this one of a very tall Wizard cookie driving back a hoard of Powder Snow Lions.

“It looks good right?” Gingerbrave whispered, sneaking a look up at him. Despite the normal confidence he carried, Pure Vanilla could see the very slightest crack.

“It looks wonderful.” He whispered back, a hand dropping to Gingerbrave’s shoulder to rub it. “Your friends will be very happy. A writing, a drawing, all that matters is that it means something to them.”

Gingerbrave’s shoulders dipped a bit, turning back to his drawing. “And your friend is going to be happy with yours, right?” He said. “The new one.”

Pure Vanilla felt his staff dim for a moment, remembering that moonlit clearing. “That’s the hope.” He said. “That’s the hope.”

He paused. Lingered for a moment. The kernel of a long held fear bloomed in his chest, choking vines reaching up to strangle his voice. “Gingerbrave, what would you say if I told you that friend, possible friend, was someone we clashed with in the past?”

Brave Gingerbrave. Kind Gingerbrave. Looked up at him with nothing more than a slow, steady blink that he had picked up from Tiger Lily and her wildcats.

“Okay.” Gingerbrave said, nothing but innocence and confidence in his voice. “We’ve had friends before who weren’t friends! Like Strawberry Crepe! They weren’t our friend and now they are and we play chess sometimes!”

Well. Strawberry Crepe played chess and Gingerbrave’s group played any game rules but chess. At least, that was what Strawberry Crepe had ranted towards him. Along with their pure confused scientist level conspiracy theories on why none of them knew how to play chess and the fact that their obliviousness wasn’t even on purpose.

Pure Vanilla had been carefully untangling a lot of plots to force feed the squad a mathematical and complete knowledge of chess. Strawberry Crepe was gaining a greater understanding of what not to do with living people.

Plus, social time was good for children. Hm. Perhaps he should get Strawberry Crepe writing letters as well?

Right. He was trying to escape the subject again.

“The person who I’m talking to is-“

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.” Gingerbrave said, looking back at his drawing. “Making friends is scary, isn’t it? It kind of scared me.”

“Really?” Pure Vanilla’s staff dimmed and brightened, barely catching the others looking over, drawn by the change in light. “You’ve had Strawberry and Wizard and-“

“Well, yeah, but we’ve ALWAYS been friends.” Gingerbrave said, waving his pencil. “I didn’t need to do anything to make them, we just! Connected! Escaped from life and death together! Bonded by the fear of dying in a kind of awful way!”

“I don’t think that’s how you make friends.” Chili cut in, looking oddly disturbed when he focused the staff on her. Pure Vanilla found himself tilting his head.

“That’s how I made my friends.” He told them. Chili started blinking furiously. Custard looked meditative. “The ones you would know as the other Ancients. Those perils really brought us together.”

Even he and White Lily had met when combating an escaped research experiment.

“Exactly!” Gingerbrave said, nodding furiously. “It was so much easier! And then it’s like, oh say the right thing here, do the right steps here, oh no, running away from an evil shadow doesn’t make you best friends! Even the book you have has soooooo many steps!”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Shadow Milk cared much for mutual peril.” Pure Vanilla reflected. Certainly because the other had caused most of the peril they had been mutually involved in.

And it wasn’t like he could induce peril. Particularly as he wasn’t yet sure what would even CAUSE that kind of situation? After all, while Pure Vanilla had his hopes of convincing the other, Shadow Milk had still thrown his lot in with Dark Enchantress. Any peril was doubtlessly caused by the other side.

He shook his head, turning his attention back to the room. Only to find everyone staring at him. “Oh! Did I miss something?”

Strawberry squeaked. Wizard was opening and closing their mouth, an incomprehensible noise escaping. They tried again, even more jumbled this time. Only Chili and Custard looked simply confused.

Gingerbrave turned and blinked up at him again. “”Okay. The friend is… Shadow Milk?” He said slowly. Pure Vanilla blinked, one hand flying up. Ah, he thought with a touch of embarrassment, so much for his attempt at gently introducing it. “I don’t think that sounds like a great idea… but I’m sure you know what you’re doing!”

“Hopefully, I do!” Pure Vanilal chirped back. “The book has been helping me make fantastic progress in befriending the other.”

Wizard made another incomprehensible noise and buried his head in his hands.

When Shadow Milk pouted it was artful. Sublime. The kind of pout that made seasoned actors weep. And Black Sapphire and Candy Apple know to avoid his staging room.

Once, it was where experiments were performed. Little things, treatises and potions that he had wanted to see for himself. Confirmed for himself.

Everything turned out perfect~! Of course! He was Knowledge, in all of his radiant glory! Every single thing he created, he always knew. Exactly. What. It. Did. Always. He never ever got it wrong. No surprises in his lab! Nuh uh uh!

No surprises. Ever. It always turned out boringly, exactly, as he knew it would.

Later, he got more interested in studying people, rather than some boring project, and that’s when he changed this room! Made it even more useful and perfect! Every little bit, to help him in his projects.

What pushed a person till they broke? What could deceit do, dripped into someone’s ears? What could break a once soulforged relationship, without even the teeniest hope of repair?

Because they ALWAYS broke. There was always the teeniest chink in the armor of even the clooooosest relationship!

It always turned out how he knew it would! Always exactly how he expected. But at least it was entertaining!

It ALWAYS turned out as he expected. Always always always the same as what he Knew.

He flipped, looking at the paper below him. The stupid stupid letter that had just appeared in a flash of that warm light.

Until now.

Shadow Milk grimaced, pulling his cap over his face. That initial curtain call had been a DISASTER! All due to that awful, awful Pure Vanilla!

He thought he had had it at the end. That this was going to be the moment to make that little Pure~ Vanilla~ CRUMBLE! He had pressed a kiss to that oh so warm and inviting cheek-

He flung his cap across the room, watching it dissolve into the shadows. Waiting for him to call it back to hand

And Pure Vanilla had smiled! Their eyes had crinkled, but in something more like bemusement or confusion, rather than despair! Or anger! Even when he slipped away into his shadows, they did nothing but watch the stars! Humming some sweet little tune!

They didn’t so much as flinch from the smooch! So much as blush!

And now! Now! He sends him this! This little love note! Another smack to the feather in his cap! Shadow Milk flips himself over, swinging his feet in dramatic arcs.

By a fool who didn’t even know what a soliloquy was!

And what a foolish letter! The words clumsy, and oh, he could CRY at the lack of rhythm. And yet, he thought as his lips twisted in distaste, it practically dripped with honesty and feeeelings.

On his lips, he could still taste the sweetness of the drink. Shadow Milk huffed. Worried about it being too strong. Ha! As if any kind of drink would be too strong for him!

As if they hadn’t been created by the Witches themself, above all those who came after! As if he could be affected by some drink! That Nilly was, was simply a remnant of his silly silly mortal mantle, a reminder that the other could never be as good as a Beast~.

Shadow Milk scoffed. He would have maybe graciously bestowed some of his knowledge on the other on the nature of Souljam and the mantles they possessed. IF they hadn’t betrayed him. And the worst possible kind of betrayal!

“Oh, Nilly, you’ve really done it now.” Magic curled at his fingertips, spooling out string-like, until they snagged the puppet he wanted from its shadowed corner of a chest.

It was tugged into his arms, a perfect little puppet of Pure Vanilla! One of his most masterful creations, and he was sure Pure Vanilla would be disgusted to see the little fabric puppet in his possession. The face a picture of carved wood, even those silly little robes recreated!

Not that it was spe-cial! He made puppets of anyone who ended up in his plays! Anyone who got tangled into his strings.

He tugged at the edge of that stupid hat, watching it begin to stretch and warp with distaste. He could have preferred the other set he made, but he had tossed THAT away after the whole distasteful incident. No surprise for that little lapse, not after he ditched that robe design like yesterday’s trash.

And really! After Shadow Milk had poured so much work into designing them! Stitched them together himself!

“So greedy, aren’t you?” Shadow Milk said, a flick making the puppet hover away from him and nod. “You just keep asking for more and more.”

Half of HIS Souljam. A position as his equal. And now, his heart.

“Oh, but Shadow Milk, I just can’t stay away from you.” The puppet cooed. Shadow Milk rolled his eyes.

“Yet another thing that requires my indulgence.” He said. He sighed, tugging the puppet into his hand. “And after I offered you a place at my side.”

That was that one sticky point to this whooooole little play that Shadow Milk came back to. Pure Vanilla came to him, wooed him! And yet! When Shadow Milk had tried to consume him utterly, to paint over his virtue with HIS deceit so deeply that everyone who looked upon him would know who he belonged to, the other had refused. Refused him!

Shadow Milk had offered him robes he created, painted in his colors. Offered a sweet respite from the oh so harsh truth that plagued his steps. At his side, he would offer all the knowledge of the cosmos and forgiveness for stealing his Souljam. A Souljam that would beat beside his as Deceit cast their influence over the world.

Their names forever, inextricably linked.

And

He.

Refused.

Broke his own Souljam! Like a dyed in the wool drama queen!

And yet, now he came back? With all these sweet words and oh so clumsy letters?

Shadow Milk eyed the burning toffee flower laying on top of a wicker basket, next to a carved spoon. He had snatched it away, ripping it from the ground of the precious spot Nilly had brought him to.

He found himself pleased by the sight of the flower, still darkened by the endurance charms he had cast upon it. Nilly’s spot bore the marks of him now, a little bit of shadow upon a lovely place.

But going through these steps? Digging them up? Making something tug like the tug of a string in his chest-

“No.” The puppet smacked into the wall before tumbling back into the chest he kept it in with a mere flick of the strings. “No, no, no, NO! I’m the one who’s leading our little dance here!”

He was not letting Nilly get away with leading this dance of theirs! Not becoming the gasping fool in this little romance!

Shadow Milk clapped his hands together, the shadows reaching and tugging at the fabric of the world until Black Sapphire melted out the air in front of him. Their eyes widened for a moment, natural and then widening again more artfully, before they dropped into a bow. Rigid and flawless.

“Master. What do you wish me to do?”

“Give me all the rumors on romance you know. Everything you’ve heard or seen or even made up to pass along.” Shadow Milk said, his eyes narrowing. With the composure the great Shadow Milk taught him, Black Sapphire straightened up out of their confusion in a blink.

“Absolutely, Master. I’ll share everything.” Black Sapphire said. He opened his mouth before pausing. “Actually, if it’s matters of the heart that you’re interested in, Candy Apple would be one to consult as well for this play that you’re devising.”

Mm. That was true. Candy Apple could be a tad overzealous but in matters of love, they had carried a certain artful obsession. “You always had such good ideas.” Shadow Milk cooed. Black Sapphire preened under the praise. “Fine, fine. Send her in afterwards. But tell me EVERYTHING.”

He knew the next step that was to come, the knowledge rising to the forefront of his mind. Steeped in a bitter, unforgiving, unforgetful poison.

But this time! It wouldn’t be Nilly catching him off guard with silly little nicknames or taking him by the hand!

No, this time it would be Shadow Milk who swept him off his little golden clad feet! Grabbed his heart and held it in the palm of his hand. His to break! To watch the other sink uncontrollably into the despair that he oh so narrowly escaped from!

Because, he thought thinking of those discarded robes, what greater betrayal than a lie by someone you loved?

The gentle murmur of sweet lies swept over him as Shadow Milk settled down. Yes, this time, it would be him guiding the strings of this little play, calm and collected in a way that Nilly only wished he could be.

And nothing could stop that!

“Nilly. My pookie Bear. My silly-vanilly. My Souljam thief. What did you just send me?”

Chapter Text

For your sixth step along this road to ———-, one would prepare a gift catering to the interests of their chosen ———-, to show interest in what they love-

“I don’t see what was so awful about it.” Pure Vanilla said, setting down his cup of tea.

To be honest, he didn’t expect this to be what had led to a letter meeting his gaze, left on his desk. He had honestly rushed here in a bit of a state, worried by the sudden response and imagining the possibilities as to why proud Shadow Milk would leave such a letter.

He had been expecting notice of a calamity or possibly signs of changing sides. Not furious rage and criticism over a play he had written as a gift.

Shadow Milk didn’t look at him, still reclined in the air with one arm thrown over his eyes. “Don’t speak to me. I’m no longer speaking to you.”

Pure Vanilla shrugged, setting his cup of tea down onto the crisp cloth. He was certainly glad now he had thought to brush up on his summoning and brought along some victuals. It had taken a full half hour for Shadow Milk to stop dramatically writhing in the shadows and reveal what had brought this about.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” He offered again.

“And the cast! EIGHT different point of view cuts?” Shadow Milk said, casting his arms wide. There was something oddly ferally intense about his eyes. “And nary a marker to differentiate them? And the DIALOGUE TAGS! Don’t even get me started on the dialogue tags!”

Pure Vanilla tilted his head to the side. He wasn’t aware that that sort of thing could be a problem.

“I like them having lots of friends?” Pure Vanilla said softly. He was aware that one could write others in poor situations for drama. Certainly, he had enough exposure to know of that!

But in his opinion, life could be dramatic enough as it was. Why torment his own creations so? Giving them lots of friends seemed suitable for that, and if they were there anyways, why not consider their perspective?

Judging by the blank look on Shadow Milk’s face, the way they were gritting their teeth, they did not agree. “You.” The other said. “Wrote it that way. So they could have lots of… friends.”

“I didn’t think it was that badly written?” Pure Vanilla said. He had certainly tried his best. “I admit, I’ve never seen a play before-“

“How did someone like you manage that!” Shadow Milk said, throwing up his hands! “I would expect someone like you would be all artsy and cultured enough to go to plays!”

“But, ah, it wasn’t as if I had cause to attend many plays?” Pure Vanilla said lightly. “And during much of the years I could, most plays were written about us which made such matters… awkward.”

Their first play had ended with them rather unceremoniously being ejected from the theater by the manager, who, not seeing through their disguises, thought they were simply unappreciative critics.

Which wasn’t what they were trying to do! Pure Vanilla had simply wanted to express that his staff was not merely a prop, and that he and Dark Cacao did not have a love rivalry over White Lily!

Which, for her part, White Lily was far more furious over. He still wonders if Dark Enchantress later burning that theater to the ground was simply happenstance or possibly something more.

Seeing how others saw them was awkward and at times, unpleasant. While he deeply enjoyed their adventures, people got ideas. Made images in their head. Their own stories.

Said stories were very very rarely true.

He wasn’t sure if he would even count that as seeing a play though. They hadn’t even made it through the first act. And then now, he just hadn’t put much thought into attending a play. He was always bouncing around from task to task, place to place.

Shadow Milk eyed him for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Oh, the tragedy. Allow me to play you the world’s smallest violin! No, really, it must have been sooooo awful to have people writing heroic plays after you.”

“It really was sometimes.” Pure Vanilla agreed pleasantly, taking very slight amusement in how Shadow Milk’s mouth snapped shut. “I like to encourage the creativity of others, but I would’ve preferred no one write stories at all.”

He much preferred the life he had nowadays. Quieter. More peaceful. More time to be Pure Vanilla, than The Ancient of Truth. He felt better connected to himself than even during their heyday.

The pressure still lingered but he had grown… used to it. Almost content. Even his friends looked lighter than they had in years, more comfortable with themselves.

Shadow Milk scoffed. “Well, you could have at least taken notes. A class. SOMETHING.” He said. “That play you gifted me is a tragedy and I doubt it was meant to be that way. Why would you even write it if you didn’t know how?”

A pause. The breeze holding his breath.

“Because I knew that would make you happy.” Pure Vanilla said, taking another sip of his drink to feign not continuing.

Whatever his friends loved, he would learn. There was nothing quite like the joy of being there for them. Watching Dark Cacao’s swordplay even if his own had always been a mess, testing Hollyberry’s concoctions, designing technology with Golden Cheese, or listening to White Lily talk about her research.

It worked out just fine for them and what love he gave his friends, they shared back. None would ever quite understand his love for his sheep or his cotton candy wool crafts, but that was okay. They tried. That would always be enough.

And he was certain he hit the nail on the head with how Shadow Milk suddenly turned away from him, folding his arms conspicuously. Pure Vanilla smothered a chuckle with his tea cup.

One would think he just flirted with him!

“Perhaps I would have liked something else than a play. You picked quite the obvious choice, hm?” Shadow Milk spat out.

“If you really don’t like it, I can just take it back-“ Pure Vanilla began, reaching forward.

A gloved hand swiped the papers out of reach, carrying them over head. “Absolutely not! This is one of my grand weapons now!” Shadow Milk cried. “What will all those lovely citizens of yours think when I show them how awful you are at telling stories?”

“…probably ask why I didn’t just tell a real one.” Pure Vanilla said, his tone a touch rueful. “Black Raisin has been telling me for years to stick with that, rather than trying to make up stories for the kids.”

Shadow Milk barked a laugh. “Oh? So, Silly-Nilly has a problem.” He cooed. Pure Vanilla beamed back, pleased to know the other was using his nickname. “…so you tell them the better stories?”

Huh? What was the problem with that, that made Shadow Milk‘s voice sound so oddly greedy? Did he think Pure Vanilla meant it as an insult? “I suppose I could have picked one of my stories to write about.” He said. “But, even if I wasn’t good at it, this gift is meant to be about you, is it not? And I didn’t want to write a play about me.”

It was true, he was rather good at telling a story about one of his past adventures. Strawberry Crepe had gone away muttering about making a study about it. Even Espresso and Madeleine seemed surprised.

Ask him to make something up, and he flopped embarrassingly. Tell him to talk about a story from his adventures, and he could keep even the most fidgety young one hooked.

“Oh? So Mr. Perfect Truth isn’t so perfect after all.” Shadow Milk said, flipping to rest his chin on his hand. His feet kicked idly.

“I suppose I do envy you for that.” Pure Vanilla sighed. Even if the stories were mocking, meant to hurt and spread lies, they were strangely enticing. There was a spark of care and creativity that went into them that begged you to listen, even if you knew you shouldn’t.

When he was in the middle of the story, it was like being a fish in the middle of the ocean. But becoming Truthless Recluse had allowed him to step outside of it. To become one of the stagehands, not the audience or the puppets.

It was there that he did see the depths of deceit and anger. The loneliness, the desire to have other people watch.

But it also let him see the layers of intricacies poured into anything.

The truth, at the core of it, was simple. The answer left after everything else was erased.

But to believe a lie, it had to be layered. Layered and tweaked and teased until it looked like effortless, simple truth.

That same effort was what Shadow Milk poured into his stories, down to how he decided to design his puppets for the show. Even the cardboard shoddy puppets from the Fool King was an intentional slight.

It was beautiful, even if part of him still wished Shadow Milk would apply it to stories and not to pain.

Shadow Milk spluttered, and Pure Vanilla enjoyed the rare sight of that silver tongue faltering for half a moment before Shadow Milk was disappearing back into that flawless mask. “Obviously.” He trolled the word. “Just another thing I do better than you.”

“You do it very well indeed.” Pure Vanilla cheerily agreed.

Shadow Milk flipped in the air, looking away from him. His voice was oddly muffled when he spoke next. “If you wanted to be charming, consider me uncharmed.”

Ah. That was the point. His gift was steeped in thought and creativity, unfortunately, it was not steeped in skill. Partially his mistake. He had considered a gift focusing on his own strengths.

But wasn’t this whole matter to learn how to understand Shadow Milk? To actually connect with him? If he kept to his own strengths without extending the hand of friendship and interest, he would be left floundering.

Which.

Brought up a possibility.

“Could you perhaps show me how the play is supposed to be written?” Pure Vanilla tried. Shadow Milk stilled, not unlike a predator lying in wait. “That way I can hopefully present you with something better?”

It would solve two birds with one scone after all. He would get to spend more time with Shadow Milk, easing the process of friendship. And he would learn a new skill!

Shadow Milk didn’t speak.

Despite himself, he found himself holding his breath. Half worried at the lack of reaction. Should he speak? Stay silent?

Before he could, the other spoke. His voice oddly flat. “How eager you are.” He said, head tilting back until he was staying at Pure Vanilla’s staff, feeling oddly like they were meeting eyes.

“Shouldn’t I be?” Pure Vanilla said, wonderingly. Why not be eager? He had lived his life preferring to look forward to the future and put his confidence in hope. Some days, he and Hollyberry had joked they should have swapped Souljams.

As if he could ever match her Passion.

Shadow Milk stared at him for a long moment, twisting in the air until their head was cocked to the side and his arms folded behind his back. “I really hooked you, didn’t I?” A smile stretched across his face, oddly triumphant.

Pure Vanilla daintily shrugged, picking up his cup to take another sip.

Before Pure Vanilla could take a sip, a hand swiped the cup away. He stared down for a moment, looking up just in time to see Shadow Milk throw back the cup of tea.

Oddly, even as they did it, they kept their eyes locked with his, as if waiting for a reaction. His real eyes, not his vision spell.

Their face flickered for a moment, glaring down at the cup. “Well, that’s awful.” They declared. Pure Vanilla could practically hear the note of falsity in his voice like the ringing of a bell.

“You didn’t have to drink it.” Pure Vanilla said, placing a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. “If I Had known you were thirsty, I would have offered you tea.” Like he had done seven times, he doesn’t say.

Perhaps the other was feeling a bit mischievous under this warm sun. Certainly, he was feeling a bit heady right now.

“As if I’d want to drink more of your dried petals.” Shadow Milk scoffed. “And do you plan on actually tasting the tea, or is it an excuse to drink honey?”

“I think it tastes better this way.” Pure Vanilla said primly. But to tell the truth, he didn’t always love tea. But everyone just kept bringing him tea! He wasn’t even sure why. Was there some kind of message that went out about it? Some sort of meeting that he missed?

Personally, the only way he liked it was with a big dollop of honey in it. Something about it evoked the memories of those warm sun-lit pastures, resting in the shade with something sugary enough to keep his energy up for a long day of guiding his sheep.

Shadow Milk rolled his eyes. “Snap Dragons only bloom for two hours around sunset, in a span of a week!” He said, the tea cup floating to the ground. He sets it down rather gently. “And you just mix honey in?”

“Dark Cacao never minded!” Pure Vanilla protested. Honestly, he thought the other appreciated any excuse to offload the tea. The oddly floral and sweet undertones were not favored in a land that vastly preferred bitterness.

“Two hours! And it had to be land scorched by a dragon within the last decade, or the magic in the soil won’t seep in! Even the slightest bit of salt contamination can ruin the entire batch!” Shadow Milk said, throwing his arm over his eyes. “First the play, now this!”

“You certainly know a lot about this.” Pure Vanilla observed.

Shadow Milk rolled his eyes. “Uh, hello, Nilly. Sage of Knowledge here! I know every bit of information about your disgusting tea.”

“I gathered the honey myself!” Pure Vanilla shared proudly. “Did you know that?”

Oddly, that made Shadow Milk cough, turning their face away. “Of course I did.” They said. Pure Vanilla beamed, feeling pleased his work had been noticed.

Some of the new citizens had protested the matter, calling it dangerous, but why not? Pure Vanilla had been swiping honey since he was fresh and walking the land for the first time. Honey gathered by your own hands was far sweeter, and was far more meaningful to share with friends.

“You sure you don’t want a cup?” Pure Vanilla said, pulling his tea cup back. Shadow Milk’s eyes flickered to it before looking away.

“Not how you make it.” He scoffed. “And don’t you try distracting me. You’re the one who wants me to teach you about plays.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Pure Vanilla puts forward delicately. He’s aware that this might be an overstep. They’ve made larger strides since he found the book, certainly so much further than the beginning where even the sights of him enraged the other.

But, perhaps this was a push too far. It was so hard to tell with his only source of information shredded. He would question Shadow Milk about the details but…

What if the other assumed that he was attempting to lighten the load by questioning him instead? The book emphasized that the steps should emphasize care and thought. He was uncertain if this would include asking the other questions about minutiae.

Shadow Milk folded his arms. “Come on, you’ll have to make it worth my while!” He sing-songed. “You’re really getting the better end of the deal here, spending time with me.”

“And spending time with me isn’t the better end of a deal?” The mischievous reply comes far too fast and Shadow Milk almost visibly recoils in surprise.

Pure Vanilla actually has to turn his staff away for a moment to resist the urge to smile.

“Ughhhh, Nilllly.” Shadow Milk rolls the name. “I’ll be putting in all the work, teaching you how to write and craft and shape a story to be even a fraction as good as me.”

“It is certainly a high request.” Pure Vanilla taps his chin. “What would you want in return.”

“Hmmmm, you’re giving me that much power? What if I say your Souljam?” Shadow Milk said. Pure Vanilla turns his staff back, letting him stare at Shadow Milk evenly.

“You could. But I would not grant it to you.” He said. “Nor do I think you want it by now, with the changes it has undergone.”

His revelation in the Citadel had brought about changes that shocked him still. His reserves now felt far deeper, an ocean compared to a sea he thought was an ocean. There was a clarity, a lightness to its use that he had never felt before.

Even the voice of the Light of Truth had become so much clearer to the point it was almost difficult to distinguish from his own thoughts.

“That’s right. You mutilated my pretty pretty Souljam.” Shadow Milk said, pressing a hand to his face. Pure Vanilla quietly shook his head with a sigh. “How about, when we write, I’m in charge and you have to listen to me?”

“Within reason.” Pure Vanilla shared. “I’ll do nothing to endanger my friends.”

He was still aware that they were on opposing sides after all. Some distance must still be kept, a line he wouldn’t allow to be crossed for any of his friends.

It was unfortunately a line he was familiar with keeping. When Dark Enchantress first appeared, and her origins revealed, he had managed a tentative but unfortunately brief few meetings.

Unfortunately, they shattered into so much sugar dust. Their differences could not be reconciled, and the meetings were far too dangerous to continue.

Pure Vanilla was trusting.

But not naive.

“As if. You’re the only Ancient I like to bully.” Shadow Milk cooed, lying on his side and resting his head on his hand as he looked down at Pure Vanilla, eyes half lidded. “No one has reactions as good as yours.”

Pure Vanilla pauses for half a moment, voice catching in his throat. But before they can escape, Shadow Milk flops back, kicking his feet out. “Anyways! My friends wouldn’t like it if I messed with their games.”

Ah. His contentment shifted into something a bit more stony at the mention. He had heard about the flour plague that had swept across the Cacao Kingdom. Not to mention scattered whispers of truths beyond their borders. Shadow Milk wasn’t the only Beast that escaped after all.

Hollyberry hadn’t answered yet.

“So be it. I trust that they will be fine.” He said calmly. If he could pull through, he had no doubt that they could. They had gone through trials as the same magnitude as him, fought their way through the world.

If he could find his way back to the truth and rise above, he had no doubt that they could find their own paths.

“Not even a little panic? You’re no fun.” Shadow Milk said, pouting. Pure Vanilla tilted his head back, watching Shadow Milk evenly before shrugging.

“I see no point in anxiety I can or will not address at the moment.” Besides, just as Shadow Milk had his web, so too did Pure Vanilla had his alliances.

Letters had been sent and received. They had their own plans percolating now.

Perhaps this was why this moment was so enjoyable. To have a time when he could finally breathe. Feel the weight drop off. Finally be Pure Vanilla, the Pure Vanilla who wanted to befriend Shadow Milk. No hidden games or negotiations.

“You don’t have to agree.” He repeated. “If not, I’ll just study and try to create a better one.”

How hard could it really be? He was pretty sure a play was just a story, told a bit differently? Shadow Milk may have seen that in his face because he rolled back in the air, covering his eyes again.

“Oh no. I get the sense if I let you run around as you please, I’m not going to get anything good.” He lamented. “Goodness! The impropriety! The forwardness! And yet, I cannot decline.”

“You could-“

“I cannot decline!” Shadow Milk said, one foot swinging back in forth in midair. “No, I suppose I will have to teach you!”

Pure Vanilla beamed. “Great! When do we start!”

“Ah? Those words bring back memories.” Shadow Milk tapped his chin. “Not right now though. I’m verrrrry busy. But soon! Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

That’s right. They must have been out here for quite a while already. He wouldn’t be surprised if Black Raisin was already penning a notice to send to him via one of his birds, to check that he was alright.

He flicked a hand, letting his magic begin to gather up the supplies he brought. Nothing too much, and the tug of a spell was beginning to feel good. It had been far too long since he had been able to cast spells.

The dark side of the moon didn’t count. That was less of a spell and more of… another limb. No wonder no one else had learned to access it. How would you even go about trying to do so?

“Ah, Nilly. Always. So. Distracted.” Pure Vanilla jumped in place as his vision flickered, Shadow Milk suddenly far closer than before.

Shadow Milk’s hand flicked-

And Pure Vanilla blinked as flowers materialized in front of his face.

“A bloom for a bloom.” Shadow Milk cooed, smile curling across his face. Despite his surprise, Pure Vanilla let a soft smile settle on his face, something warm settling in his chest as he reached to take the bouquet.

Milkcrowns.

Those same pale flowers he had first seen around the Citadel. Nowhere else had he ever seen those flowers and never again did he think he would see the like.

“Now you have no excuse of not having any of my far prettier flowers around.” Shadow Milk sniffed. “Perhaps you should use them to replace those nasty orchids of yours.”

“I think they’ll look lovely growing in the same patch.” Pure Vanilla said, beaming up at Shadow Milk. “From the little I saw, their root system is very different from the average flower isn’t it? And they much prefer shade. Growing among the orchids will grant them their shade, and they’ll look splendid nestled among the golden flowers.”

He looked back down at the bouquet, tracing the velvety petals, mentally planning the design in his mind.

The bouquet was lovely. Like artwork right out of the book, each flower carefully primped and displayed to show its very best face. Despite all the flowed belonging to the same species, the meticulous nature made each still feel clear and distinct.

After a moment, he realized Shadow Milk still hadn’t answered. Pure Vanilla turned his staff.

The other looked blank. Not dismayed. Or angry. Simply blank. Their mouth hanging ever so slightly open, catching Pure Vanilla’s gaze, and their cheeks looking oddly blue.

After a moment, the other noticed his gaze, shaking themself fiercely. “They’re bouquets, not seeds.” He said, kicking off into the air. “You can’t grow them, Silly-Vanilly!”

“There are spells for that.” Pure Vanilla said gently. Tricky ones, but Pure Vanilla wasn’t afraid to dig into his botany knowledge.

And certainly, these flowers would be worth it! He hadn’t even been aware of their existence until his arrival in Beast Yeast. Their loveliness was highly visible, and the research alone could make for a fascinating process.

Certainly, much of his less important research had been set aside due to the turmoil simmering in the region. But, maybe, he could make a tiny exception this time? After all, it was a gift from a hopeful friend.

It had been so long since he had gotten to research just for the fun of it. Just for the pure love of the craft, the wondering of what could come of asking the question.

“Thank you, Milly.” The new nickname still felt a little unfamiliar, rolling off the tongue a little awkwardly. But it was worth it for the way Shadow Milk’s smile suddenly dipped into something that could almost be called surprised.

It still tasted sweet. And wasn’t that all that mattered?

Shadow Milk scoffed, eyes drifting away. “Whatever.” He trilled, something smug slipping into his smile that Pure Vanilla wasn’t sure how to parse. “I’ll be taking my leave then since I’ve had enough reminiscing on that farce you called a play! Don’t wait up for me~!”

The feel of the void opening and closing trails its way over his skin, and he doesn’t need his vision spell to know Shadow Milk is gone. That presence that is completely, wholly Shadow Milk had faded from the clearing.

Pure Vanilla cradled the bouquet close, smiling down on it. He made a note to place it with the other flowers he had been gifted.

What a wonderful sign of progress! And a hopefully very good sign. He had to admit, he was a bit surprised that Shadow Milk must have the culture of offering bouquets!

While it seemed to have waned over the years, Pure Vanilla had made a point of presenting bouquets to his friends during his meetings. Half as a kind gift and half as a way to offload some of the flowers that tended to quickly overtake his home if not managed.

He never regretted his gardens but goodness. At least the flowers weren’t as bad as the mint. If the warding runes had failed during his absence, he would’ve had to burn his living space’s garden down and start over.

Soon, his friends had started presenting flowers in reply. It had become a rather lovely little tradition and he had no doubt this bouquet would look stunning next to the flowers recently gifted from the golden sands of Golden Cheese’s home.

For a brief moment, a flicker of disappointment slipped by. His smile lowered just a fraction.

Why not a wreath?

Did Shadow Milk not yet consider him a friend, ready to go down that road?

He shook it firmly away. It’s not like he was the expert here. Perhaps this was Shadow Milk’s attempt at testing the waters. He had no reason to be disappointed at all. Even if not, Shadow Milk could move at his own pace.

Besides! Even more exciting news was that Shadow Milk had agreed to meet with him on an ongoing basis! A massive step forward, and a sign he should return to the book.

Just because Shadow Milk would be assisting him with overcoming his shortcomings in this step didn’t mean that he couldn’t continue into the path.

Now, all he needed to do was put together something that would really knock Shadow Milk’s socks off!

And luckily, the next step was something he knew how to do perfectly.

Pure Vanilla reached for his cup, frowning when he realized it was empty. Ah. Perhaps he should make his way back to the castle, and brew himself some fresh tea there.

Candy Apple was proud to admit she was spying!

It was a time honored tradition! A skill that she had been extensively trained in and mastered to the point of praise!

Oh, to take on such a stage! No costumes, just her wits and the cover she could find. She had slunk through the shadows and along the walls, all to assist Shadow Milk’s cause.

BUT THAT DIDN’T MEAN SHE APPRECIATED HIM TAGGING ALONG.

“You are going to get into massive trouble for this, you know.” Black Sapphire said, leaning into the shadowed side of a tree. “If Master Shadow Milk required our assistance, he would call for us.”

Candy Apple scowled at him. “I knoooow! But I want to see what new play he’s putting on.” At the mention of it, Black Sapphire winced, causing something crummy inside of her to well up.

They both knew that their last performance, after so many years of tension building and stage prep, had ended in a rather… catastrophic flop. Nothing to the Great Shadow Milk!

But they had been left at loose ends. Their roles briefly paused, onstage moved to backstage. Candy Apple was good at backstage! She thrived there! It was her who lured those nasty people to the Citadel.

But.

the backstage was soooooo boring.

And how long had it been since they had gotten the chance to watch Shadow Milk at work? To really see and appreciate his brilliance! It had been so so so LONG when he got locked away!

Just a brief moment in the spotlight- and gone. No no no!

“That was your fault. If you hadn’t scattered the tarot cards, Truthless Recluse would have never made a move.” Black Sapphire reminded. Candy Apple stuck her tongue out at him, reigning in the urge to stamp her foot with the memory that that could draw notice to them. When sneaking, it was good to hide where you were.

“I was helping! If you hadn’t interfered it would have been fine!” She didn’t understand why Master Shadow Milk was so fond of that Truthless Recluse. Only the people inside their group could be trusted, why bring in outsiders? Outsiders caused problems.

Maaaaaybe it was a bad idea to release his silly little friends! But, she would never let Black Sapphire know she regretted it! He would never let her live it down.

“That’s not anywhere near the truth.” Black Sapphire said, closing his eyes for a moment.

“You don’t even have to be here!” She whispered. “You can just go away!”

There was no need to follow her all the way here but there he was. The moment she was creeping into position, she could just feel him settle in behind her. Scoundrel!

“What can I say? I’m curious too, and the rumors must be satisfied.” He shrugged loftily. It was almost enough to hide how his staff was still a bit battered from the backlash of the rumors collapsing.

She eyed it with a scowl at the thought. Black Sapphire was an interfering jerk, but those rumors had been beautiful! So well woven! And they just snapped, just like that! People skipping off happily with the truth or whatever!

Ugh.

Candy Apple sniffed. “Well, you weren’t invited.” She said, scooting forward. She could already hear the faint sound of people talking. Promising?

They both knew that Master Shadow Milk had to be planning something. It was obvious. He had been in maybe a teeny tidy bitsy bit of a slump. A creative one. Nothing they hadn’t seen before but… obvious.

He holed up in his room. A lot. Lots of tossed papers and puppets and sketches. Lots of yelling at mirrors and muttered monologues.

He was slumping. Bad. He didn’t even want to hear her ideas! And then Black Sapphire had reported someone delivering flowers and then the food drop and it seemed to… fade. From slump to full creative frenzy.

His workshop had been rattling off the walls with his construction, Master Shadow Milk constantly flitting in and out with papers. Beaming! His gestures were grand and indulgent again, his passion clearly thriving.

And yet. He never told them what the play was going to be.

Normally by now, they got a tiny little peek! A few tasters of the role, a few potential lines! And yet here she was, bereft of stage direction?

The only peek they got was when Master Shadow Milk called Black Sapphire in and asked him about Romance. Romance!

That was her job!

Okay, maybe officially, it was Black Sapphire he guided rumors thriving on all the pitfalls and souring of sweetness. Romance was a death trap filled with all sorts of nasty bits. But it was Candy Apple who lived and breathed it.

Why not? She played lies like a song. Why not be drawn to the biggest deceit of them all?

Surely, Master Shadow Milk wouldn’t be too annoyed at them getting a little curious. He had never been annoyed before, back in the beginning when everything was getting off the ground, before the Witches became tyrants.

“It’s most likely nothing but a monologue.” But for all of his high sounding words, Black Sapphire was following in her footsteps as she hit the perfect hiding spot.

Candy Apple peeked out.

And froze so fast, she could almost hear her syrup cracking.

Not at the sight of Master Shadow Milk. He was wonderful, alight with devilish glee. But with the person he was talking to.

That. Stupid. Truth. Thief.

Candy Apple knew she was going to hate that person from the moment Shadow Milk arrived with his tale of woe. Waiting in the Citadel, their reach had been unfortunately curtailed. Trips outside were risky, now that they knew what the witches could do.

And over the ocean was impossible, the warping capabilities of the Citadel dormant.

But she so badly wished that wasn’t true because she personally would have ensured that nasty little truth teller never got his hands on the other half of Shadow Milk’s Souljam.

And here he was. Smiling without a care in the would, holding a cup of tea, and listening to Master Shadow Milk talk. For far too long, she felt frozen to the ground, unable to move.

“Oh. That certainly is odd.” Black Sapphire said, his voice going all flat and crackly like it usually did when he was surprised enough not to be able to finish processing. It finally startled her free of her reverie.

“Odd? O-“ A gloved hand clamped over her mouth, hauling her back and away from the pair.

“Master Shadow Milk would be irritated to be interrupted.” Black Sapphire said, ignoring her righteous flailing.

That! Was the stupid Pure Vanilla! That Truth Guy! The betrayer! There he was, talking to Master Shadow Milk.

And more than that… flirting! They were obviously flirting! There was no way around it!

Part of the reason she was so angry over Black Sapphire being called to share romantic gossip was because she was the one who truly held sway in that sphere! What greater lie, than the one that said you were in love?

Which meant she knew what she was looking at as soon as she could see it.

The attentiveness! The veiled comment! The indirect kiss! THE BOUQUET! He was practically throwing himself at the other! He must’ve been studying modern traditions for this!

“Are you done?” Black Sapphire asked, once her hissed muffled comments slowed down. Candy Apple glared up at him. “I’m unsure of what I’ve just seen- perhaps it’s simply a different plan.”

“A stupid one.” She hissed. Why would Master Shadow Milk stoop to flirting with that guy. “What does he even see in him?”

She doesn’t see Black Sapphire’s face twist into something briefly surprised but contemplative, as if finally putting together something. Instead, she throws herself into scrutinizing the scene.

So cozy and domestic, had that wicked guy invited Master Shadow Milk to a picnic or anything? As if that would work! Master Shadow Milk deserved only the best of courting! Courting that was actually on his level, to the oldest standards.

Modern courting, pfah! He didn’t have any respect at all.

“It’s not like we can fully hear what they’re saying.” Black Sapphire reminded. Candy Apple rolled her eyes. Their hearing, as a group, was fantastic! The better for picking up on that sweet sweet gossip from eavesdropping.

But that meant they had to keep a little further away, so Master Shadow Milk wouldn’t pick up on them. She might have to rely more on lip reading, but she knew what she saw! There was no missing that gooshy look!

“It’s obvious!” She hissed. Black Sapphire made a small but disbelieving hm sound.

As much as she wanted to burst out and solve this, the reminder of her recent grounding itched at her. Why end up there again?

Her eyes narrowed, staring into the clearing like she could burn it with her eyes. Lay waste to that entire stupid place.

And-

There. She sees it-

“Behind the tree.” Black Sapphire murmured. Candy Apple rolled her eyes, trying to kick him but he hops over the attack gracefully.

“Thanks Captain Obvious.” She said snidely. As if she can’t see the trio piled behind the tree.

Candy Apple knew them at first glance from the playbook. That meddling trio from the Citadel! They had been an absolute pain to bring in, all sweetness and friendship and ugh. Honesty.

The brown one looked enthralled by the scene, hands balled up below his chin in tight little fists, his dark eyes glimmering. The strawberry one looked a little less enthused, cautiously glancing around as if waiting for someone to jump out.

But it was the third, in that little wizard’s outfit, where she saw the echo of her own thoughts.

And in the moment their gaze met, a wordless agreement was reached.

Absolutely not.

The wordless agreement of two who realized that their own allies couldn’t see the obvious. Of the two who looked at this and decided there was no way it could be allowed to continue.

The obvious solution was to team up. But Black Sapphirw was already beginning to tug at her arm. Master Shadow Milk had disappeared, retreating back to their base, leaving the yellow guy to pack up.

“He’ll be looking for us soon.” Black Sapphire reminded when Candy Apple dug her heels in, glaring at the yellow guy.

Slowly, reluctantly, she let herself be pulled away, still glaring at him and his evil, evil ways.

Candy Apple sniffed as she hurried away, brushing off Black Sapphire’s arm and pretending like it had totally been her idea to start leaving.

As IF she would work with those nasty, gross, probably scorched lumps of whatever!

…well. It might still be on the table. After all, she and the other guy had a common cause now. Why not outsource some of the work?

Black Sapphire made the face he did whenever he saw something he didn’t like but was trying to pretend he was all sophisticated and didn’t care. “This is Master Shadow Milk’s wish.” He said as they walked. The words sounded all awful and stilted. “You shouldn’t interfere with whatever he has planned.”

“Well, it’s a dumb one!” Candy Apple snapped. She hissed as a hand clamped over her mouth, Black Sapphire’s gaze turning serious.

“But it’s his wish. And you wouldn’t want to make him angry again by ignoring the plan.” He warned. Candy Apple couldn’t help but frown.

He had been awfully mad at her over the stupid tarot card things. She had just wanted to deal with those awful awful cookies! And instead, she was stuck in these for sooooo long, unable to do ANYTHING! It was so boring! So dull!

And even worse, it meant she had even less time with Master Shadow Milk after finally getting him back! For so long, they had subsisted on their own little plans and brief snatches of energy trickling off the Silver Tree.

She had sat in there, knowing that she could do so much more. Be so much more. She had too much energy to just sit around.

“But we can’t just let this happen!” She said, an edge to her voice as she gestured back at the pair’s meeting place. There was no way she could allow him to be… to be… COURTING that stupid Vanilla cookie! No way! No how! Not at all! “You can’t be dumb enough to say that you’re happy about this!”

Black Sapphire’s face did several interesting things as it twisted, flickering through few emotions before settling back into his annoying calm moue. “If that’s what he wants.” He repeated. “It’s perfectly possible that it’s all part of a plan.”

“A dumb plan.”

“Part of a plan.” Black Sapphire stressed. “And I don’t intend to be the one to ruin it. Love can be quite powerful after all, and a good garden bed for the most delightful lies. Using it to weaken his opponent is clever.”

He said it like he truly believed it wa shuts a plan, or at least really wanted to believe. And maybe if she hadn’t seen it, she would have believed it too.

But she had seen the look in Master Shadow Milk’s eyes. He was interested. Really interested. This wasn’t just a mission, this was actually serious.

Master Shadow Milk may have been the world’s greatest actor, but Candy Apple was born from the first and sweetest lie. She could practically taste them on her tongue, dripping with a candied sweetness that rivaled her own.

It was in the way he was actually researching this. Not half heartedly either. He had grilled Black Sapphire with all sorts of questions. And now he was using them.

Pure Vanilla must have really gotten his hooks into him! But how! Where did he find an opening to steal Master Shadow Milk’s heart.

Candy Apple turned back one more time, scowling at the scene behind her. She was not going to let this stand. If they disagreed, she was just going to have to be sneaky about it. There was no way that she was going to let this Vanilla Cookie court her beloved teacher!

For a moment, her eyes had met that of the Wizard Cookie guy, still crouched in the bushes across the kitchen. An unspoken message crossed, the message only passed between those with the exact same thought.

Absolutely not

The passion… the fire… normally she wouldn’t care much, but she could use an ally.

Sure, maybe she couldn’t do anything just yet… but she was pretty sure that Wizard guy had the same idea.

This could not be allowed to stand. Now how to go about breaking them up? There had to be some way to sneakily nip this in the bud.

And if Black Sapphire didn’t believe her?

Well, she knew just the person that did.

Black Sapphire buried his head in his hands.

He needed a drink.

Chapter Text

Wizard was losing his mind.

He paced back and forth, tugging as his hat as he tried to sort out his thoughts over what he had just seen.

Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla! Together! Getting alone! As if none of Beast Yeast had happened! What was even going on there?

Ginger and Strawberry had shooed him off behind a hedge waiting for him to cool off, but how could he cool off! This was not a drill! This was insanity!

Every time he got even close to working through it, his mind curved back to the scene at that pond.

They had known it wasn’t nice to go there. Pure Vanilla deserved privacy. But when he rushed off so fast, of course they followed! He groaned, turning to pace back along the hedge. He never would have followed if he knew what he would see!

“WOW, you’re really taking this badly, aren’t you~?”

“Of course, I think this is-“ Wizard’s mind caught up to his voice. That wasn’t Ginger. Or Strawberryz That was a voice he remembered from a very very bad place. A voice he would never forget.

On top of the hedge, folded much like a cat waiting to pounce, was Candy Apple. Wizard spluttered, magic beginning to crackle around him.

“What are you doing here!” He snapped, hands dropping from his hat. “This isn’t even the right continent!”

Last he knew, the other were still on Beast Yeast! Well. Until they had fled through that portal. But still! That should keep them far far away from him and their friends, let alone to find them inside the kingdom!

How could- hm. Considering how easily she played Apple Faerie, could he really be surprised?

“Relaaaax!” Candy Apple said, hopping to the ground. Wizard hopped back. “I’m not here to hurt you! I’m here to offer you something!”

What! That was even worse! He would never do something evil and bad!

“And you think I should just believe you?!” Wizard yelled back before frantically looking around. Just over the hedges, Strawberry and Ginger SHOULD hear him but…

“Relaaaaax.” Candy Apple chirped, rolling her eyes at the echo, already guessing what was on his mind. “I set up a super special spell so they won’t hear anything! Conspiracies are so much more delicious when nobody knows about them!”

Cut that! It also meant nobody heard him getting… accosted by this crazy person again! What a cool spell used for something so so- not cool!

Wizard stamped his feet, putting up his nose at her. “I won’t be helping you with any evil plans OR accepting anything from you.” He said crossly, folding his arms. “I’m not so foolish as to believe you!”

Hadn’t she lied to them before? Back as Apple Faerie when she seemed so nice and helpful and then BAM! Suddenly they were all trapped in that awful place!

There was no way he’d trust her again! He had no doubt that if he did, she’d tried to lure him into doing something that would hurt them, or him!

“Silly! I’m not asking you to believe me, I’m asking you to believe THEM!” Candy Apple leaned closer and Wizard definitely did not flinch back, something like ozone settling in the air.

From this range, he didn’t care if she was one of the Beast’s minion, she would be nothing but toast after his spell. It may not quite match to the force of an Ancient yet, but otherwise?

He stole that spell from a Witch Book.

It never missed.

“After all, you’re the only one who noticed they were in love.” Candy Apple spits the word like it’s rotten.

“I have no idea- ah. I do.” Wizard’s face twisted, instinctively trying to shake the ever so gross memory away!

It’s not like he hadn’t definitely WANTED to follow them around! But Ginger made a compelling argument and maybe he was just a bit worried! So when Strawberry saw Pure Vanilla rush away they, well.

They followed.

The returning thought dragged up a rather unpleasant memory, making him wince.

They had been tracking a Cake Hound for MONTHS, following a distracted Pure Vanilla was, well, a piece of cake! Nothing easier! In fact, it wa a almost nice to get back into tracking something again, enjoying the thrill of the chase.

Until he saw where and who the other had gone to.

Ginger and Strawberry thought that they were just friends. Friends! Strawberry was cautious but willing to go with the flow and Ginger was excited that Pure Vanilla had successfully convinced Shadow Milk back to the path of friendship.

Only Wizard had realized the actual truth under the lies that Shadow Milk had no doubt created (likely due to his expert magic skills).

“Shadow Milk had manipulated Pure Vanilla to fall in love with him!” He said, nearly throwing his hand out before realizing he still had his staff and should have bonked the other. He snatched it up from where it was laying, pointing it at Candy Apple.

No matter, because Candy Apple’s face probably would’ve looked better if he had hit her. “Wrong! It’s Pure Vanilla who TRICKED my MASTER!”

“Hah, you think that?” Wizard sniffed. Foolish! “It’s so obvious by the way he spoke and looked at him that it’s clearly Shadow Milk who’s pushing this entire thing along.”

He wasn’t quite sure for what yet! The Souljam, maybe? Would Pure Vanilla hand it over then? He didn’t think the other would but who knows?

“Trust a goody-two-shoes not to see the obvious.” Candy Apple said, rolling her eyes. “Pure Vanilla is practically throwing himself at him? Trying to wrap him around his finger for some stupid reason! Sending gifts!”

They glared at each other.

“…this can’t happen.” Wizard said begrudgingly. No matter whose plan it was (Shadow Milk’s), this could not be allowed to happen.

“Agreed.” Candy Apple huffed. No matter whose plan it was (Pure Vanilla’s), this could not be allowed to happen.

“Aggravatingly.” She continued. “You’re the only one who actually noticed. Black Sapphire just told me to leave it and it’s probably nothing!”

“In my expert opinion, there’s no way that that is nothing.” Wizard mumbled. It was clear that the two were a great deal friendlier than they were when they last met.

Ginger had insisted that it was because they shared a connection, but could a connection really mean that much? He loved Strawberry and Ginger not for the connection they shared baking on the same tray, but for the adventures they had shared.

Shadow Milk had rejected Pure Vanilla so suddenly and violently that the idea that he would just as suddenly change his mind…

It worried him.

And sending gifts? This was the first time he heard of it… but now that it was mentioned, he thought back to the letter they had seen on Pure Vanilla’s desk.

He had thought it an odd letter to send, but had put it down to Pure Vanilla’s easy caring nature and flowery writing. Now, thinking of who that letter was meant for. Hm.

Maybe Candy Apple had a tiny bit of a point that he should hear out.

“Exactly! And we’re both in agreement that it should not continue.” Candy Apple insisted. “Which means! We could both use some help.”

“Why would I want your help though?” Wizard pointed out, not a touch unsullenly. “The last time we trusted you, you lured us into a death trap and tried to throw us away like trash.”

He still remembered how she had giggled as she grabbed for the tarot cards. The feeling of loss and vulnerability realizing that he couldn’t cast a single spell. Being inside the card was like being under a metal dome, any magic he summoned quickly sliding off.

Worse, was knowing Ginger and Strawberry were in the same position and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Are you really going to hold a grudge over that?” Candy Apple said, rolling her eyes.

Wizard spluttered. “YES! Yes I am! Why not?” What else would he hold a grudge over? Who wouldn’t hold a grudge?

Candy Apple sighed. “Mutual interests of course! It’s what binds everyone together.”

“Shouldn’t that be love?” Wizard pointed out.

“As if! No matter cares about love, they care about mutual interests! Love never results in something that lasts.” Candy Apple giggled. “It falls apart in one tiny lie.”

That… was definitely an odd way to look at it. He certainly didn’t think it was true.

He, Ginger, and Strawberry didn’t HAVE mutual interests outside of the ones they made for themselves. They didn’t have to stay together after they left the castle. They did because they loved each other. And in the end, they stuck together.

Wasn’t that love?

“I never believed Pure Vanilla would turn against us.” He pointed out, a tad morbidly curious. “Doesn’t that break your theory?”

“You did! I saw your face for a second!”

“Hmph. A first thought is not a true thought.” Wizard pointed out archly. “First reactions aren’t everything! A mind can make the leap to quite a number of conclusions in that first thought. That second thought, where you actually mull it over, shows what you actually believe.”

It was a lesson Black Raisin had taught them when she was going over her distrust of strangers and why. And a good one too!

“That’s dumb.” Candy Apple said bluntly. “And wrong. But anywaaaays, we’re in agreement here! They can’t fall in love. Which means, we need to do something about it.”

Hm. Wizard made himself consider it. She might, just a little bit. A tiny bit. Have a point.

It’s not like Wizard didn’t trust Pure Vanilla! He trusted him immensely.

The problem was, he didn’t trust Shadow Milk! Who knew what wicked ideas that guy had in mind! Which meant that whatever relationship they had, couldn’t continue. The longer it continued, the sooner that evil plan would happen!

It was really the kindest plan, if he did say so himself. To make sure it ended sooner.

“We could just talk to them.” He pointed out drily. That was, indeed, an option.

Candy Apple snorted. “If that worked, you would have talked to them already.” She said, folding her arms.

Wizard coughed. “Of course I have! I explored every avenue.” It’s only when he hears Candy Apple’s snicker that he remembered she could tell when someone was lying.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of telling Pure Vanilla what a bad idea it was! But Pure Vanilla was… nice. Kind. The kind of person he looked up to, with his cool magic and superb skills.

How did one go up to a person like that and announce they were making a mistake?

Worse still, it could even end in Pure Vanilla being disappointed in him.

Where he’d give him that look and that soft but agreeing smile, and say that he would do it, if only to make him happy. And he would! Pure Vanilla would end it, if it made them uncomfortable, and not think a second thing of it.

But Wizard would know! That Pure Vanilla would be unhappy!

Which. Meant that Candy Apple’s idea to gently ruin things so they called it off instead seemed quite a bit feasible. After all, it was still up to them what they chose to do.

“It’ll be easy! Just a few tricks here and there, and we’ll have it in the bag like this.” Candy Apple giggled, snapping her fingers. Wizard glanced back at the hedge, considering. “Then we can go back and act out the play as directed! Just think of this as a little… interlude!”

It was just for a bit, he told himself. Just until they made sure whatever that was didn’t happen. He was smart! Candy Apple couldn’t fool him twice. Maybe he could even win one over her.

“Just a few tricks.” He agreed.

They just had to make sure it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t be that hard. Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk couldn’t actually like each other, after all.

“But! I already know what I’m going to do, so I don’t need you.” He said triumphantly, seeing her face fall. It was a plan that he had already been considering! Not made up right at this moment.

Candy Apple’s face twisted. “That plan can’t be THAT good.” She hissed. “I have so many better plans!”

“Well, we’re doing mine first!” And he still didn’t trust her not to be using this as an excuse to cause trouble in the kingdom! Wizard huffed, turning his back and stomping around the hedge. “And if you do anything, I’ll tell Pure Vanilla and get you in trouble!”

There was the soft tap tap of feet following him but she stopped just as he reached the edge. The thud of a foot stomping. “You’re being dumb!”

“No, I’m quite intelligent.” Wizard said. And his plan was so perfectly simple, it HAD to work.

“I just need to make sure he can’t sneak out to send him things or meet him anymore!”

Now comes the time to gift them a talent of your own, to exhibit sincerity and the depths of your —— for them. One must carefully prepare-

He starts with the wool.

Pure Vanilla lets himself into the gate, humming a song once popular to himself. It was a real ear worm, one that still popped up in his mind even after decades.

They liked when he came with a song on his mind though. He could almost swear that the wool was easier to collect on those days, combing away with ease.

Or perhaps, he thought, watching the cream sheep fluffballs rush towards him, they were less fussy those days.

Today was a rare free day, Black Raisin giving him an odd look as she chivvied him out of administration. Allegedly it was to prepare for the important meeting tomorrow with the Crème Republic, but part of Pure Vanilla wondered if she had noticed his restlessness after returning from Beast Yeast.

He had thought of relaxing, but found himself constantly wanting to move. To do something. He tried reviewing for the meeting but instead found his mind drifting away. Ever since he had met Shadow Milk, it was like some sort of restless energy had lingered, making his thoughts drift away like clouds.

So. Needs must. Pure Vanilla decided to use this time to work on the next step. And for that, he needed to visit his sheep.

They had thought he was a tad out of his mind for wanting his sheep at the castle. But to Pure Vanilla, the thought was essential. He was not a king entirely and as a child, he had raised his sheep well. Why give it up?

While his original herd had been given to the care of a loving family, he had eventually become the proud guardian of a new one. It had taken many days of smuggling, innocent obliviousness, and gently assuaging concerns, but he had collected them all.

And secretly, it was great for his stress. As much as he loved caring for his friends and citizens, sheep were just… easier.

You could tell when they were happy, when they were sad. In pain or sick. They didn’t hide anything. They didn’t make power grabs. For them, happiness was good food, good pasture, and good care.

Pure Vanilla huffed a laugh as Hollybaary butted against his leg, looking for treats she knew was in his pocket. “One moment, you’ll knock me over.” He protested gently.

It wouldn’t be the first time she had mowed him down for treats. Deftly, he pulled the pouch out, holding it above Golden Sheep, who eyed it speculatively.

Rather lazy, but he had seen her clear fences in a hop to reach better clover.

Something smacked against his back. Turning with a laugh, he looked at Dark Cacao, the little sheep hopping in place.

Strangely enough for the one that he was named after, Dark Cacao (the sheep) was actually one of the most hyperactive sheep. The sheep was practically vibrating in place, eyes sparkling up at him as if to ask if he had just seen what he just did.

Pure Vanilla smiled, patting him on the head and dodging an attempted bite. Also, one of his more bitey sheep, but that did fit well with the one he was named after. Dark Cacao had been confused but willing to go along with the name.

Perhaps because it wasn’t the same kind pun as the others.

Or maybe not. He’s pretty sure the other is just convinced that he doesn’t know enough about sheep to figure out the pun just yet. Suitable, because Pure Vanilla just couldn’t think of one.

He was already looking forward to trying again when the three new lambs arrived. The trio would be absolutely delighted when they found out.

While they were distracted swarming him for treats, he busied himself looking them over for any issues, carefully combing through wool and watching their gait. Nothing of note. They had recovered from the time freeze far better than he could have hoped.

It shouldn’t have worked, their survival. He had been certain he would be coming back to empty pastures. He had grieved the arrival, his steps slow and unfocused.

But luckily; when time had frozen, they were included. Likely the same magic that worked on the flowers and the birds.

It may not have worked on general animals. But they had been practically steeped in his magic since lambhood. He had cried, when he walked into the pasture and saw White Billy sauntering over to be fed.

“I do hope he likes this.” He tells them, combing through Pure Baaaa-Nilla’s wool, carefully retrieving loose fleece. Beautifully soft and luxurious, though not as waterproof as Dark Cacao’s or as easy to knit as Golden Sheep. HollyBaaary’s took dye better, but White Billy’s washed better.

All in all though, their wool was superb.

That made him wonder as his hands filled and he resorted to a gathering and levitation spell, what kind of yarn did wolves give? After all, they had met the wolf herder near the Citadel with his wolves. In his time, he had seen yarn spun from all manner of things, from cotton candy spiders to various plants like candy cotton.

If yarn could be made from those, why not a wolf? They had fur, didn’t they? Pure Vanilla hummed as he switched to combing through Golden Sheep’s wool, earning himself a contented baa.

What would it feel like? Course? Soft? Warm perhaps, for most wolves lived in far colder climates.

“Something I’ll have to ask him about.” Pure Vanilla told his sheep, standing and stretching again. He would certainly love a new project- and perhaps he could even persuade Shadow Milk to work beside him?

Another round of treats mollified the herd before they swarmed him looking for more petting. He’d need to do a full shear soon but for now, the weather remained temperate enough that the loose cream wool was the only necessity on the list.

Thus distracted by treats, Pure Vanilla quickly gathered the wool he needed, absconding to the gate.

If he remained any longer, there would be no more free time to take advantage of today! Many a day had been lost to these fields.

“I’ll be back soon.” He promises, chuckling as White Billy tries to follow him out the gate. He nudged them inside, watching the little herd begin to drift away before he heads back to his home. Silly little things.

The last time one of them managed to get out, they had somehow climbed on the roof of the castle. He’d rather not a repeat of that episode.

He headed to his room with a skip in his step, a swirl of magic tugging along the wool for processing. Unwilling to let it be marred by bumping into wools or spook a new guard with a floating clump of white, Pure Vanilla took the quieter route, dodging around the castle until he settled in his room.

He really hoped Cream Cheese had settled their nerves. It had been quite the time (and quite a lot of warm drinks) before the poor guard was convinced they hadn’t seen a ghost.

Now came the hard part as he nudged the door to his room.

To fully concentrate, Pure Vanilla let his vision spell fall away. He laid the staff against the wall, letting darkness cover his vision.

This is something he has done so often, that the idea of needing sight to do it almost seems comical. The motions might as well be embedded in his mind, to the point he could probably do it in his sleep. He had learned it without sight so doing it with sight felt… wrong somehow. Clumsy.

The wheel is exactly where it is in his memories and before long, he finds himself falling into the rhythm of washing, carding, and spinning the wool. He went for a lighter, finer weight. Still quite chunky, but not overly so.

Perfect sweater weight.

The dyes are something he had kept on hand. Pure Vanilla smiles as he runs his hands over the enchanted jars.

It had been a massive boon to find that the preservation spells on them hadn’t failed. He had painstakingly gathered each and every dye himself.

The effort of the process of researching a pigment or a potential plant for a pigment, collecting it, figuring out how to turn it into dye? Monumental. His collection had taken most of his life to build and even now, he had jotted notes on what plants to pursue if he ever had time to. Replacing any of them would take days if not weeks of work.

Replacing the entire collection would be an exercise in grief.

Some of these dyes, he was almost certain could never be reproduced. The plants were long gone, home taken over by another species or burnt in the crossfire of the war.

He still maintains Dark Enchantress burying the location of one of his favorite buttery yellow dye flowers under ashy crumbs was on purpose. And petty.

Pure Vanilla reaches for a fresher jar, more recently made.

A perfect deep blue for the base, a dye that always produced an almost shimmering sapphire blue wool that just bordered on darker.

It would be perfect to bring out the blues of Shadow Milk’s preference, flowing with their overall palette. To add to it, he brought out another pigment.

He had genuinely not thought that this one was going to be successful. Flowers made of magic were always volatile. Once, Pure Vanilla had found a flower with flames for petals. When he tried experimenting with an extra, it resulted in sludge that smoldered and tried to set his desk on fire. Another, a lovely pink, had melted through any container used for it.

They either took well as a pigment or didn’t.

But the Milkcrown had taken to the process as if it had been made for it. The resulting pigment was a wonder. A creamy white, almost bordering on a creamy pale gold in the right light.

Blue and gold. A hopefully auspicious combination.

Pure Vanilla separated the amount of yarn he would need by memory alone, fingers trailing over the strands as he moved them to the dye pots.

He’d knit this time, he decided. Crochet was lovely, but often turned out with a more hole based framework, or bulkier. Both, lovely in their own way, and would offer warmth. Unfortunately, he didn’t think Shadow Milk would like the feel.

They were the type of person who’d prefer something a little more flowing. Which, tricky as it was, was a bit easier to accomplish with the tighter knit.

Carving and play writing were weak skills for him. But wool crafts? He was a master.

Pure Vanilla settled into one of his chairs, a nice rocking chair he kept in the corner of his room, setting the yarn in a bowl at his feet, a crack etched in for the string to run through and spool out.

Part of him was still debating whether he should’ve gone with lacework; it wasn't like lacework was difficult.

In fact it was actually something he was a little bit better at. He always found the little minute details calming to do even if it took forever.

Though, nothing could compared to the tapestry he still working on.

That was the same way for all the ancients. They all kept hobbies to engage them during their long, long lives. Dark Cacao had his wall, which was an odd hobby to be obsessed with, but the man seemed to make it work. HollyBerry had a couple wines that she had been fermenting for…. How many years was it now? And he was pretty sure that Golden Cheese was regularly rewriting the laws of physics to see her whims met, which, good for her.

He wasn’t quite sure what pursuits White Lily was going to take up but, well, he was gonna be happy to see it either way.

As long as it wasn’t world domination.

For him, he came with fiber crafts, arts and gardening, but fiber arts always had a more special place in his heart. It was a hobby that he had done when he was a very, very small child and now had pretty much all the time in the world to master.

Lacework was easy.

But what stopped him was, well, the cold.

It was probably a silly thought to have. In fact he was pretty sure Shadow Milk would laugh if he got word of what Pure Vanilla was thinking. He was certain that the other would certainly like lace. It certainly fit with the frills and elaborate nature of his outfit and the way he would work with his puppets, often choosing lighter fabrics with more elaborate patterns.

At the thought, Pure Vanilla paused. He hadn’t seen Shadow Milk use any fiber crafts, but as he stared down at the wool between his fingers, he was thinking of how the other had carefully picked over each and every article of clothing.

Were those enchanted or did the man make them himself? He wasn’t quite certain. He thinks he might’ve seen the other sewing, but in the Citadel, he couldn’t quite trust his memory on anything.

He had thought he had seen beasts running through the hallways, the death of his friends, even his own self appearing.

But in the end, he was never really quite sure what was real, so whether the other sewed or not he wasn’t sure whether that was true.

But he liked the idea that the other might, that the other might be interested in working with cloth the same that he was.

So. Lacework would have worked.

It was the cold in the citadel that had changed his mind. After reading the passage, he was going to make something lighter. More delicate. Perhaps more on the ornamental rather than the practical side.

But in the end, he was just so cold there. It was something he remembered even now when he mostly had regained his control of the dreamscape, banishing the cold. Not just of the river, but as if the Citadel itself seemed to emanate a deep bone deep chill at all times.

Something that sunk into him and never really quite left.

What would it be like to live there? Was Shadow Milk actually immune to it, or did the other simply tolerate it like Dark Cacao did? Pretend like it had no foothold, as if even the slightest crack meant a weakness for others.

In the end, he just kept coming back to the same idea. A sweater. Something chunky. Warm, deceptively warm, maybe a tad bit ugly, but in his opinion, a sweater being ugly simply added to its charm. It really showed that the creator had made it from hand, that it was not simply bought off from some local artisan. That someone had really thought about the process of making it.

And maybe, he thought it might be a little bit funny to see Shadow Milk wearing something as chunky and ugly as a sweater could be.

With a chuckle at the thought, he made sure to cast on his yarn and begin the careful process of knitting the sweater.

He started with the torso, knowing he’d have to make the sleeves later. He wasn’t quite certain of the size, but he’d considered himself fairly adapted to estimating at this point. And in Pure Vanilla’s expert opinion, perhaps one should always go for oversized.

As he worked, he carefully began adding a little bit of well, not lace work but a little bit of a fancier pattern. The knotwork would look absolutely lovely when paired with the variegated effect of the blue and creamy white gold yarn.

The sleeves were reached soon enough, time running away without him to watch it.

Finally, he ran his fingers over the current row, nodding to himself. Perfect. He had gotten to be quite quick with these, and it helped that this was a more chunky yarn.

With deft movements, he closed off the row, setting aside the needles and folding the sweater. Only then, did he allow himself to relax back in the chair.

The doubts slipped in immediately. Was it enough? Would Shadow Milk even like it? Had he missed the mark, going for a chunky sweater rather than something more elaborate?

He had felt similar before, but this felt even stronger now, even more than when he carved the spoon. His knitting work was something he excelled in. He loved it, polished it, and was truly proud of it.

If Shadow Milk didn’t like the spoon, he could at least console himself with the matter that he was simply not good at carving and try again. But at something like this…

No matter, he told himself firmly, beginning to push his wrists and hands through a series of stretches to help with the cramping and pain of knitting for so long. No matter at all.

If Shadow Milk didn’t like the sweater, then they would explore it as it came. Pure Vanilla would not falter and try to change himself for another. This was a gift from the heart and so he made it.

Finally, once his wrists and hands were pleasantly sore and looser, he pushed away from his chair, reaching for his vision staff and letting color seep back into his world. A snack sounded nice, and perhaps a cup of honey-sweetened milk. He was a tad peckish, not ravenous, but such a long task had a way of making one crave a soothing snack.

The door knob rattled under his hand.

But didn’t open.

…hm.

There was a soft clatter behind the door, audible to his sensitive ears. “Sorry, Pure Vanilla!” Wizard called through the door, sounding oddly harried. “I, um, accidentally locked the door! With a spell!”

Pure Vanilla tilted his head as he looked at the door. The locked door could be Wizard trying out a new spell and it explained the other sounding harried. Something about it rang a little odd though.

“It’s alright.” He called through the door warmly, shaking his head with a smile.

It wouldn’t be out of character for the other to get a little enthusiastic and start getting a little cast happy. At least it wouldn’t be like the unfortunate first time where Wizard had accidentally set something on fire.

Luckily, he had always thought the vase was hideous.

“So sorry! I’ll be sure to call someone over right away!” There was a soft thud. Hissing voices, just soft enough not to make out many details other than one being female. Strawberry? Scuffling.

Children. He wished he still had their energy.

“Right away!” Wizard called. More scuffling. Something about the other not supposed to be there. Goodness. What was going on out there?

He let out a soft huff of affection, making a note to sit down with Wizard and start spell practice again soon. The other had refused to attend the Academy, or any of those that had offered him admission.

Privately, Pure Vanilla was glad he did. They had refused admission to Strawberry and Ginger based on their preference for straightforward attacks and seemingly lower mana pool, despite their talented uses of magic to reinforce themselves and their tools. Forcing the trio to separate felt just plain wrong to him, especially when doing so ignored the talents of the two.

He had considered asking Latte or Espresso to step in, but the others had their own projects to focus on. Latte was frequently running back to teach her own classes, and Espresso with his research travels and experiments.

Wizard had proved a wonder at piecing together spells through reading. Which. Perhaps still contributed to his problem with accidentally using the wrong spell at the wrong time. But he needed a teacher.

In between, Pure Vanilla had been working on teaching Wizard all he knew. Offensive, defensive, and while he would perhaps never be the healer of the naturally inclined Custard Junior, he would be able to keep his friends alive in a pinch.

Having a student was a wonderful feeling. He had never been able to truly teach before, for the joy of it, rather than hurriedly impressing the essentials as fast as possible, under pressure.

Perhaps working a bit more in stealth spells? Nodding to himself, Pure Vanilla set his staff aside, reaching towards the newly made sweater.

The anger made sense too, they had been working on Wizard’s desire to surprise the others with new spells. An understandable desire, but Ginger has never been one for impulse control, especially with his curiosity.

Since he couldn’t leave for now, he might as well take a small hop across his mindscape to deliver the sweater. He’d send a blue bird later to request help from Black Raisin.

He could break the door down but he liked this door! It was worn and a nice color and replacing it would be so much trouble with the sugar gnomes working on more important projects.

Pure Vanilla shook his head, instead activating the spell to pull him into the mindscape. No, this would certainly be a project for later. For now, he’d deliver the sweater.

The path to the seam is familiar. But what’s there, makes him freeze in place.

Pure Vanilla breathes out a soft sound, wondering and ecstatic all at once.

He could feel the seam in his mind as before. A little tear, an unraveling in some of the threads as they joined with a new tapestry. That was not a surprise.

By now, he was almost certain he could find his way to it with his eyes closed. Or, well, without memory. Shadow Milk’s magic grown more distinct, more identifiable.

Perhaps it was a sign that the other’s trust was growing, the shields they had built up not quite so high. That the seams had stayed, without defenses being erected.

But here, in the mindscape, they had bloomed.

Golden orchids and pale milkcrowns sprawled across the ground in beautiful harmony, just as he envisioned. They lined the edges of the seam, turning it from a shifting edge of magic to something alive and beautiful, as much as it could be when entirely mental.

Dreamily, he kneeled down, free hand combing through the petals. They felt accurate to memory, soft and bouncy and alive to the touch. Theirs. Pure Vanilla let out a soft laugh.

“I knew the design would work.” He whispered to the flowers. Careful not to crush one. They weren’t real but the idea would feel wrong all the same.

He placed the sweater down, a thought pushing it through. The flowers shivered, the sweater disappearing in a swirl of petals.

Pure Vanilla waited, watching how their connection had begun to bloom, and thinking of flowers in the spring.

Chapter Text

The initiator is not the only one that can take steps

When it comes, it feels like a tug.

Not an aggressive one. As if someone had gently taken him by the hand, and tugged, ever so gently for his attention.

He’s in the middle of a conversation with Espresso as it happens, the coffee mage having stopped him to talk about their latest defense system. Unfortunately, despite the gentleness, his shiver doesn’t go unnoticed.

Neither does the letter that appears in a wisp of shadow, fluttering through the air but for a moment before Pure Vanilla gently reaches out, bringing it to him. He can almost feel how Espresso’s attention suddenly sharpens on his hands.

“What kind of magic is that?” The mage asks, and Pure Vanilla nearly pulls the envelope away when they lean in.

Patience, he reminds himself. Espresso has a bluntness characteristic of most hailing from the Cacao kingdom but the other-

“Ah, apologies.” They said, adjusting their glasses. But the other was quite polite when they realized they had committed a bit of a rude action. Most mages didn’t like sudden close attention on a spell unless permission was given. For one, it could be dangerous. Pure Vanilla nodded.

“It’s fine.” He said, turning the letter over in his hands. It’s unmarked, yet, he knows who sent it. “I can’t blame you for being fascinated with a new spell.”

Was this what Shadow Milk felt, when he sent things to him?

“Then can I inquire? It looked like a point to point transfer, which is difficult to do solo.” Espresso said. “A runic circle on the envelope?”

“It’s possible in some cases. I can do it for a few of my friends in an emergency, but the exertion will put me out. As for a circle, I’d have to examine it more myself to know what they’ve done.” A fact he had found out when, desperate for assistance that was too far away to reach in time for them to travel, he managed to teleport the letters themselves to his friends.

However, even with his massive reserves, it had laid him out at the time.

Now… he wasn’t quite so sure. It was harder to get a gauge sometimes on the changes manifested by his transformation. Mentally, he felt clearer than he had in years, with a level of calm and commitment to the truth. Physically and magically…

“That reminds me.” Pure Vanilla said, snapping his fingers. “I might need to see you and the lab about some magic reserve testing.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Espresso said, straightening it up. He pushes his glasses up, dark eyes narrowing in on him. “It’s clear the changes of Beast Yeast have brought upon a new manifestation and I can’t imagine what that’s done.”

“If it’s anything like what I went through before, the reserves may be the least of it.” Pure Vanilla said, casting his mind back. It wasn’t just the amount of magic he had, but his control and ability for higher level spells had skyrocketed.

But more than that was his connection to the outer world. When he became an Ancient and gained his Souljam in full, he had been able to grow flowers where he walked.

Now, his mindscape had expanded. He’d become more able to detect lies over truth, and part of him wondered if what he’d done when he ascended, wiping away the vicious rumors in distant parts, was something he could still do.

“We can definitely arrange for more in-depth testing.” Espresso paused, pursing their lips together. “The envoys from the Crème Republic will be here soon. Do you plan to request their help…?”

Ah. A harder question. Pure Vanilla sighed, fingers tapping against his staff. “For now… I think no.”

It should be an easy decision, as he had answered their request before to research his Souljam. It was a decision he had come to, an element of trust in his former people.

However, the vision he had seen… worried him. While some of the nobles were true and helping, he had seen a larger group focused more on profit and their own superiority.

Even their Consul, before time and contact had uncovered a kinder side, was oil slick in a way that reminded him uncomfortably of certain people.

Pure Vanilla shook himself. “I will need to alert them to some specifics. But for now, I will decline testing with them. More practically, travel is difficult with the changing circumstances.”

He could not freely travel as he would like, remaining close to the kingdom. While word had not yet reached of a Beast situation spiraling out of control, what slipped through was enough to know that the situation at large had begun to percolate, as Espresso would say.

Dark Enchantress had been eerily quiet after the release of the Beasts, oddly so for what she had done. He would expect her to capitalize on the chaos and weakness and the fact that hadn’t… worried him.

They were focused. Driven. Not the type who would suddenly stop for no reason.

“For the best.” Espresso said, glancing towards the door. “I’ll ask Madeleine to run interference. They’re good at it, in their own boorish way.”

Despite the harshness of the words, they were begrudgingly fond and Pure Vanilla couldn’t hide a smile that had Espresso looking away with a soft hmph. It had been good to see those two growing closer over time, Madeleine’s outgoing and forceful personality breaking through the brusque mage’s shell.

And indeed, Madeleine would be a good choice if he needed an intercession. Even if he privately hoped he wouldn’t.

“Much appreciated, my friend.” Pure Vanilla said, taking a step back. “I’m afraid I need to go answer this letter but I’ll plan to meet soon for testing? Perhaps there, I can share what I’ve found about the magic on the letter.”

He wasn’t quite sure how applicable it may be, as the connection they shared was limited to them alone. But, if there was anyone who could take such a thread and spin something new, it would be the mages that called that laboratory home.

“Why, of course. I’ll send a note as soon as I have everything set up.” Espresso said, nodding firmly. He strides off before Pure Vanilla could, each step crisp and loud. Even as he pulls the door open, he can hear the other beginning to talk, Madeleine’s boisterous tone replying back.

Pure Vanilla watches the coffee mage go with a fond smile before turning back to the letter. With a careful tug, he unfolds the envelope without ripping it, registering the click of the door closing.

He begins the careful process of adjusting his staff to read when instead, his fingers brushed against bumps on the paper. He paused. Carefully, with bated breath, Pure Vanilla drifts his fingers over the page.

Braille.

Pure Vanilla smiles softly to himself, shifting his staff back. It was rare anyone thought to write him in braille. He knew how to read it still, but people still defaulted to the norm, which assumed he could see naturally. And he could but…

Braille solved a number of problems for him, chiefly the difficulty of adjusting his vision spell to reading properly. Now, the words practically leapt out at him.

My Pookie Bear!

Turn around

Pure Vanilla jolted, tracing over the last section again. Turn around? Even as the confusion hit, he found himself turning-

“Guess who~! No, really, guess!” Shadow Milk’s voice slips out of the shadows only moments before the mage peels out as well. The dichotomy of Shadow Milk’s blue and black, standing in the warm colored halls of his home, is so sudden it nearly shocks him to jump, magic fizzling over him.

“Shadow Milk?” He said, folding the letter away. He had guessed but such an abrupt visit was unexpected. “I… didn’t expect a visit?”

“That’s the point of a surprise!” Shadow Milk trilled the last word, spreading his arm wide.

Pure Vanilla takes him in, drinking in the sight. “Well, you certainly did surprise me.” He said ruefully. “Is that what it feels like when I send things to you? The tug?”

“Uh, yeah? Did you not even do a bit of research before trying.” He cackles when Pure Vanilla meets him with a shrug. “How utterly foolish! Oh, how lucky you are.”

“That I am, for more reasons than that.” Pure Vanilla shares. “What could bring you here?”

Even as he says it, he finds himself casting a careful eye over Shadow Milk, almost swearing the other strikes a pose to let him see better. No signs of injuries or illness.

“Why, could you have already forgotten?” Shadow Milk leans closer, chin propped on his hand. “How callous! How hurtful! I may swoon! Did we not promise to work on the play together?”

The play.

Pure Vanilla tilted his head. Indeed, he did remember such a promise. But in true honesty, he thought it would be a while yet before they would. Let alone for Shadow Milk to instigate the meeting.

Delight filled him before immediately being crushed.

The meeting.

“Unfortunately, while I welcome the visits.” Pure Vanilla began. “I cannot work on the play right now. Some allies are coming soon for an important meeting.”

Shadow Milk’s smile disappears.

The temperature begins to drop, shadows squirming on the wall as if cast by invisible flames. “Oh. How. Interesting.” Shadow Milk said, eyes narrowing. “And this meeting is more important than me?”

“A promise must be kept. I made this meeting far back after all.” Pure Vanilla met his gaze with his staff steadily.

For a moment, they looked to each other.

“Fine, fine!” Shadow Milk rolled over, one hand flicking. “There! Meeting delayed!”

“What did you do?” Pure Vanilla said, standing straighter, his senses casting out into the castle. He couldn’t feel any dangerous magic, but that didn’t mean he felt secure in Shadow Milk suddenly casting a spell.

“Relax, Nilly! Don’t you trust me?” Shadow Milk cooed. Pure Vanilla tilted his free hand.

“I can trust you, and still wonder if you have the best ideas.” He said archly. “I will give my back and my life to my friends like Golden Cheese, but it was still her who caused us to flee an ancient tomb chased by a boulder because she was certain a golden treasure on a pedestal was not trapped.”

Had it not been for their long running friendship, he was fairly certain Dark Cacao would have throttled her for it. They were younger and less wise then, but it was how he learned you could trust someone and still push back.

Shadow Milk threw his head back, cackling with laughter. “Oh, what I would give to see that!” He said. “I bet you all looked absolutely hilarious.”

“And so I ask again, how did you delay my meeting?” Pure Vanilla said, tucking his staff so he could fold his arms.

He jerked as a hand flicked his forehead. “Re-laaaax Nilly!” Shadow Milk cooed. “I just convinced them that the meeting was supposed to be delayed and they should stay on the ship for a few more hours, doing all the boring paperwork stuff.”

Pure Vanilla hummed. It certainly sounded right. When he glanced outside, no one was rushing around in a panic. There was no oil-slick feeling of Deceit in the air.

It was almost… oddly kind of the other. They could have done far worse, he knew. He almost said so, before remembering Shadow Milk would dislike him drawing attention to the fact.

“Thank you.” He said softly. “I suppose then, I do have time to do some work with you.”

For now, he could meet him halfway on this. But in the future, he’d need to be careful about lines being pushed like this.

“Seee~! You’re so mean, Nilly! Not trusting me at all!” Shadow Milk’s feet tapped to the ground. “How can I possibly thrive here? Don’t think I don’t notice you not using that nickname of mine.”

“Well, if it’s anything like a flower, I know how to do it.” The words slip out far too easily, but what was more shocking was the way Shadow Milk suddenly dipped. Like his very powers of flight had suddenly stuttered, the other’s head whipping around to stare at him. “And my apologies, Milly. I’ll try to use it more frequently.”

No answer. Shadow Milk continues to stare.

With a frown, Pure Vanilla pushed himself up on tiptoes and pressed a hand to the other’s forehead. They didn’t feel like they had a fever but the odd bluish tint to their cheeks remained.

“Are you alright?” He asked, trying to will away his own flush of embarrassment. Honestly, he knew he could come on a bit too strong sometimes, caring about his friends.

“Nilllllly.” Shadow Milk whined. They huffed, pulling away from the hand on his forehead. The move is oddly stuttering as if for a moment, Shadow Milk pushes into the hand. “This is about me, not you.”

“So it is.” Pure Vanilla said, lowering his hand. “I’m sorry if you hoped for the next step now, I’m still preparing it. I know it’s just a bit of trouble-“

Cold hands pressed to his cheeks and he can almost feel Shadow Milk’s giggles vibrating into his head. “Nilly, Nilly, I can do what I want sometimes as well! After all~ I did promise to teach you, didn’t I? How could I ignore my newest disciple, begging for my attention?”

“So you did.” Pure Vanilla said, reaching up to press his hand to one of Shadow Milk’s cupping his cheek. “I appreciate it… Milly.”

Internally, he found himself bursting with joy. The other was reaching out to him! Willingly! Choosing to spend time with him, despite their past fights. It was a stunning upset.

“You should! I am ever so kindly offering my brilliant knowledge and wit to you.” Shadow Milk suddenly flopped forward and Pure Vanilla let out a soft eep when the other pushed him to the floor, somehow landing in his lap, curling up like a cat.

It takes a moment for him to orientate his staff, and he only catches the tail end of Shadow Milk’s pleased smirk, lazy eyes staring up at him.

“I-well.” Pure Vanilla finds himself choking on the world, feeling oddly unbalanced. Perhaps due to lack of forewarning- normally his friends asked before going in for a hug. Shadow Milk’s grin grew wider.

“Goodness knows you could do so much better! I mean, I saw those guys you have a meeting with.” Shadow Milk’s eyes flicked up to the ceiling. “Boring! Bland! The ugliest of clothes! I couldn’t even sew something like that in my nightmares! It’s really quite… impressive.”

He rolled off suddenly and Pure Vanilla nearly lurched, feeling an odd sense of emptiness at the lack of contact. Perhaps a reaction due to Souljam proximity?

But instead, Shadow Milk kicks back into the air, floating freely again.

“Ah, so you do sew all of your clothes!” Pure Vanilla said, patting the ground in invitation. He didn’t hear Shadow Milk draw closer, but he didn’t hear him move away either.

“Not ALL of them! Ugh, what a waste that would be!” Shadow Milk flipped upside down, his jester hat staying perfectly neat. “And one could say that is but another layer of deceit! Are the clothes truly made or were they conjured out of magic?”

“I don’t feel as if I can speak to that.” Pure Vanilla said, a touch ruefully. While he did enjoy the robes his Souljam had formed, he admittedly missed the robes he had worn before. They were lighter, a little less attention grabbing. A bit more worn, even if a spell kept them refreshed and comfortable. “I don’t typically invest in a larger wardrobe.”

Shadow Milk scoffed. “You could just change.” He said, waving a hand. An odd looking gesture with him still hanging upside down. “Laaaast I check, you don’t have to keep wearing those lame robes!”

“I know, but I don’t always find myself with much time to care.” They stayed perfectly clean and neat with magic, why concern himself with styling? For Pure Vanilla, clothes were more about comfort than looks.

A sly smile slipped over Shadow Milk’s face. Pure Vanilla nearly jumped as a gloved hand tugged at the front of his robe. “I know something you can change into-!” Shadow Milk said, a fang slipping into his smile.

Pure Vanilla’s chest felt oddly stuffy for a moment, and he had to force himself to cough before he could speak. “Do you refer to the robes I had in your tower?” He clarified. “The ones I got in the River.”

Shadow Milk scoffed. “The ones you got from ME, I must say.” He said, grin turning to a mercurial frown. “No River made those.”

“Ah, my apologies.” Pure Vanilla said. He could feel the sun beating down on them, turning the air heavy and warm. “You were the one who made those?”

Shadow Milk’s hand tightened for a moment before he released his robe, leaning back in the air and examining his glove. “Puh-lease, you think that the River can make something so high quality?”

“I admit, I never had clothes made by a river before, so I couldn’t say the difference.” Pure Vanilla teased. “They were impressive though. But I admit some surprise lingers that you would do so for me.”

Those were no robes made casually. It was clear thought had been put into every inch of them. From consideration of the flow, as small as the stitches of the blindfold being soft enough to not irritate the eyes.

“It’s not like it was hard.” Shadow Milk scoffed. “I could sew something like that in my sleep!” He paused for a moment, grin turning sly. “Or, you know, it was very hard and you should feel very guilty over abandoning them.”

It was quick, but he could catch the underlying bitterness. Pure Vanilla’s eyes flickered away.

He didn’t regret leaving those robes behind. They were beautiful, a work of art. While his emotions then were still dull, he couldn’t remember how light they were, how comfortable. Artistry in fabric.

But they had come draped with expectations. An idea, a mold that Shadow Milk wanted him to fit into. A mold he would never fit into.

“I admit, I didn’t think you were one for sewing.” He redirected instead, smoothing the robes in his laps. “Did you create those outfits for Candy Apple and Black Sapphire?”

“Of course! Can’t have anyone working for me looking less than their best!” Shadow Milk said, snapping his fingers. “Snappy, aren’t they?”

“Truly, they both looked quite well groomed.” Pure Vanilla pressed a hand over his mouth, knowing Shadow Milk might take any smile as mockery.

It was sneaky, when he picked up on it. How much more involved in things than Shadow Milk pretended to be. He acted as if even the slightest suggestion of interest or concern outside of his own amusement, would get him summarily exiled.

It was almost… charming to see the little peeks past the facade. Pure Vanilla couldn’t imagine sewing robes and other accessories to be any less time consuming than weaving or other activities.

If Shadow Milk truly disliked him, he would have snapped his fingers, conjured a set, and been done with this. No fussing, no effort.

And yet. Even before Pure Vanilla drew close, the other had gone through the effort of selecting the fabric, designing the outfit, and then sewing it himself.

It was clear every inch of those robes had been carefully and meticulously designed. Even the fabric was wondrously soft and light-

Which reminded him of something.

“Can you make thread or yarn from the fur of a wolf?” Pure Vanilla asked. He feels more than sees Shadow Milk suddenly jerk, mismatched eyes on him. “Is that what you use for those?”

“What kind of question is that, Nilly?” Pure Vanilla did jerk this time in surprise as Shadow Milk flicked his forehead again. A habit seemed to be forming.. “What kind of silly silly thoughts are going on in that little head of yours?”

“It’s a serious question!” Pure Vanilla defended, hand reaching up to touch the place Shadow Milk had flicked. “After all, there was the child that herded wolves. Usually, for a herd, you are herding them for a reason.”

Shadow Milk yawned. “And that’s where you’re wrong, my silly-vanilly! We don’t need reasons in the Citadel!”

“Perhaps not.” Pure Vanilla acknowledged, remembering the books in the tower. Any fragment of truth in them had been stripped away, for no reason at all. “But, that doesn’t mean that it couldn’t be a reason not thought of.”

“And I’m supposed to tell you that?” Shadow Milk said, rolling his eyes.

“You are Knowledge after all.”

For a moment, the air froze. Pure Vanilla kept himself perfectly steady.

Even if this is who you are now, it does not stop the you of before.

Pure Vanilla knew the feeling well. It almost seemed like Healer, and yes Truthless Recluse, had been forgotten some days. As if those phases of himself had vanished into dust.

But yet, he was still them. Changing his manner of dress, and yes, mood, may appear they were gone. But he was still them.

The moment stretched on until it seemed poised to snap.

“…you could but it would be inefficient.” Shadow Milk said. They weren’t looking at Pure Vanilla, staring off into the distance with narrowed eyes. “It’s warmer than wool and repels water well, but you’d need massive amounts of fur to make a single skein. They only shed fur once a year, and it can only be gained through brushing.”

Pure Vanilla frowned. “That would be difficult.” He mused. “And a bit out of my wheelhouse. I only herd sheep. But I’ve heard White Lily has been experimenting with thread made from the microbes of Beast Yeast.”

He shuddered a bit, remembering the massive microbes. While fascinating to study, he admitted that part of him didn’t enjoy dealing with them.

“Why would she want that?” Shadow Milk said, something harsher edging his voice. “Thought those stupid Faeries conjured up most of their items.”

He spat the word conjured like a curse. But then, Pure Vanilla mused, Shadow Milk put in quite a lot of effort to pretend like he was expending no effort at all.

“She wants to see about setting up a stable trade, and much of their goods are perishable.” At least what could not be found in other areas.

It was a noble but difficult effort, and one he wished he could offer aid in. Alas, to offer so, he would need to return to Beast Yeast, and he was long before reaching the point where he could leave once more.

The more practical side told him that this was her journey, and she wouldn’t appreciate assistance handed to her on this matter. The need for stable trade wasn’t imminent, after all, they were a stable kingdom. White Lily would want to take care of it herself.

Out of all the Ancients, she was the only who had never ruled her own kingdom. Until now. But she was taking to it with tremendous devotion.

“Maybe that stupid one will get them out of the Stone Age.” Shadow Milk said, examining his gloves. “Buuuut~ I doubt it!”

“White Lily is perfectly intelligent, I'm sure she’ll be able to work it out.” If it wasn’t for the Beasts, she likely would have worked something out by now. Instead, her attention was split, with the larger part going towards researching the tree and the Beasts.

Shadow Milk scoffed, glaring at the nearby wall. If before he sounded bitter, now he sounded hateful. “As if! I doubt that little airhead flower can do anything right!”

Pure Vanilla tilted his staff to look at the other better. “She defeated you.” He pointed out mildly. “Twice, I think.”

“She cheated!” Shadow Milk’s magic flared, his shadow whipping around him as he stomped his foot. It cast a dark shadow on his face, only his eyes gleaming against the light. “She’s an awful awwww-ful person and I don’t know why you want to talk about her right now!”

“It’s just how the conversation naturally evolved-“

“New rule!” Shadow Milk raised a finger. “No more talking about that stupid new ‘Guardian’ or whatever! In fact! Don’t talk to her ever again.”

Deep breath. In. Out. “I can say that the second part of them will not be happening.” He said firmly. “I will not cut contact with a friend, even if you do not like them.”

“Not even if it made me happy? Even if I invoke this little development we have going on?” Shadow Milk’s face flickered as he gestured between him and Pure Vanilla.

“I… do not know what happened other times someone carried out these steps with you.” Shadow Milk jerked back, his face flickering blue in the light. “But I can tell you that it would not be fair to make these demands of another. I would not ask you to give up your companions, no matter the trouble they had caused.”

Certainly, he hoped that they would come around too. And perhaps that connection may cease naturally with Dark Enchantress. The bond developing between them, this friendship, was too fragile for demands.

Nor would he like it if his other friends may such demands, simply out of sheer dislike.

But. This sudden upset.

Hm.

“Are you jealous?” He said, looking up at Shadow Milk, his staff moving as well. “Of White Lily?”

“Jealous? JEALOUS?!” Shadow Milk’s hands balled into fists, the edges of his form warping into something inhuman? “Jealous of that empty headed little twit who RUINED my PLANS? WHO threw me back into that oh-so-lonely tree?”

“You are certainly acting like it.” Pure Vanilla pointed out. He almost hadn’t noticed it, chalking it up to Shadow Milk’s disdain for the Guardian of the Silver Tree.

But this aggravation was far too personal. Targeted. More focused on Pure Vanilla and her, rather than her alone.

“Wrong! Wrong! Completely WRONG!” Shadow Milk flopped back, his hat tilting over his eyes. “It’s almost STUPID how wrong you are!”

“Far be it from me to correct you.” Pure Vanilla said, even as part of him pings with the knowledge that Shadow Milk is lying.

Shadow Milk’s face twists, what little of it he can see. “Teaching is cancelled. I! Am not going to waste time on you anymore.”

Part of Pure Vanilla’s heart dips. But he reminds it that this is a point that cannot be shaken, as much as part of him wants to smooth everything over. A friendship must be made by equals. He can not begin one, rolling over and ruining his friendship based on demands.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Pure Vanilla said softly. “I can see about not bringing up White Lily if necessary, but you must accept my friends if we want to grow closer.”

Shadow Milk twitched, the motion sudden and violent. A blue eye peeked at him for a moment before looking away.

“Fine.” Shadow Milk gritted out. “FINE! Enjoy your friendship with that jerk. But I’m not teaching you now. My mood has been thoroughly ruined.”

“Oh no! Whatever can be done?” Pure Vanilla said, a bit of teasing daring to slip back. “Would perhaps a pastry improve your mood?”

Shadow Milk giggles, high pitches and on the edge. “Oh, no, no, Nilly.” But the words come so much closer and Pure Vanilla watches with wide eyes as the other swings up with that feline grace, looking down on him. “Next time, I’ll take care of the dining arrangements for our meeting. You will simply have to appear to partake with me. You can do that for me, right~?”

“Okay.” Pure Vanilla said, softly. But instead of disappearing as Pure Vanilla expects, Shadow Milk’s hand reached out, ever so delicately picking up Pure Vanilla’s free hand.

And presses it into a kiss.

The motion is oddly familiar, the sensation featherlight. Oddly, it makes him swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry as he fights for an answer.

Hand still twined with his, Shadow Milk leaned in close. “I.” Shadow Milk crooned. “Have never had someone offer themselves to me like this before. You are my first, Nilly.”

And between a breath and the next, he was gone.

The only memory was the rising temperature, the cold numbness of his free hand. A hand Pure Vanilla couldn’t help but stare at.

What did Shadow Milk mean by that, he wondered. The kiss on the hand was an odd practice. But the invitation… should he call it promising? That Shadow Milk is being proactive in this friendship? Would that settle his heart?

Pure Vanilla stared down at the staff in his hand, turning it over. His vision flickered, the world spinning with the movement.

He was… afraid.

Of the newness. The delicate nature of their growing friendship. And what would happen if Dark Enchantress moved first and the Beasts moved with her. If that happened, the line would be drawn.

He wanted Shadow Milk to be his friends, to pull the other back from the loneliness he knew the other felt.

But he already knew. He couldn’t (wouldn’t) pick the other over his entire world. But Shaodw Milk’s sudden overtures… they had thrown him off balance.

These shared moments, they hinged on this pause. A not quite ceasefire, but stalemate. Battles still raged, but battles he was growing to learn he did not yet have a place in.

He could not pull his friends to their realizations. He could not kick the ladder out from under them, even if it burned their hands.

Once again, it was the Trials.

Pure Vanilla did not always like remembering the Trials. Those days, clinging to the slim hope that his friends were okay. Even though he knew with his heart that what they were going through was a fate that had cast down many like them.

And now, yet again, was the choice to wait. To place his hopes in his friends, that they would triumph.

But also, to wait. To tend this orchid in the greenhouse, this hothouse flower of a friendship. And hope that it would grow strong enough to weather the storm when the world came to it.

Or whether it would wilt before his eyes.

Ah. Pure Vanilla uncurled his hand.

He forgot to bring up the flowers in their mindscape.

Black Sapphire never thought that there would be a day when he would think it would be unfortunate to hear a new rumor, blooming right in his garden. A rumor uninstigated by him.

It wasn’t exactly like he was jealous or territorial about rumors!

In fact, those were actually some of the best seeds he could uncover. The most fertile soil for a good lie was when people had already halfway convinced themselves of something. All it took was one small little nudge to take the story completely off the rails once a person convinced themselves of even a kernel of it.

Something was compelling enough to start passing around. And they were happy to believe anything as long as they thought it was an answer to what they were thinking.

And they blamed his radio show for the rumor spiraling! When all he did was add just a little fuel for a seed unplanted by him.

And knowing that this rumor was about Pure Vanilla himself, oh, he couldn’t make up a better opportunity! Had the topic been literally anything else, he would’ve hopped in and started spinning stories on his radio, knowing no one could stop him no matter how much they could try.

Something clattered in the distance, Candy Apple swearing at something. A familiar voice answered back, distant as if projected over a remote viewing spell.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only potential subject of the rumor.

It wasn’t even quite a rumor, yet, not even more than a kernel of one.

Sure, it’d been spread around a little bit by newbie guards who hadn’t quite realized what privacy was and some curious citizens but Black Sapphire had standards. He was a maestro of his craft, a conductor of chaos, an artist of deceit! This was barely more than a tiny statement, nothing really juicy about it.

Pure Vanilla seems excited and has met someone outside of the kingdom.

Black Sapphire spun his staff. Not even a connotation there! A little white lie! Simply, that they had met someone! One or two of the guard noticed him suddenly slipping away on adventures, unrelated to the trio that somehow seemed to haunt every single interesting thing that happened here.

Black Sapphire was honestly impressed that they had lasted this long. Some of the stories that rang with disgusting truth were almost too graphic to be revealed even to listeners.

More flattering in the distance. Something that distinctly smelled like smoke.

But to return to his point.

An opportunity on a silver platter. A golden choice for a silver tongue.

The problem is in this case he knew who the rumor was about.

It was quite the interesting conundrum, if it didn’t make him grind his teeth. Which was better? A lie or a truth?

After all, what was more scandalous than the Hero of Truth, meeting the Beast of Deceit? What could possibly be so devilish, so interesting, so fascinating.

Certainly, he could argue for Dark Enchantress, but well, he didn’t like dragging her into rumors too much! Not with Shadow Milk still undecided on how they were going to unravel her while she was still riding high on her achievement.

And for his listeners, it wouldn’t be that interesting! They expected quality, fine entertainment!

And so, he’s left with a paradoxical choice. The most sensational choice is the truth, but as commanded by deceit, how could he do so? And yet, a lie lacks that oh so delicious impact!

The other part of him was a bit more worried about how Shadow Milk would react.

The other seemed oddly… tuned out from the rumor station lately.

Oh, sure, they were still interested in the rumors that Black Sapphire brought. There’s something strangely nostalgic about it. Normally, Master Shadow Milk had left him up to his own devices. Ever since they had fallen to deceit, his Master had left him with the fact that Black Sapphire could keep well under control.

His was a triumph. A work of art. Every moment was a dazzle. There was no need for the director to be constantly calling back the actor.

He got his occasional orders and, occasionally, he shared one of the more delicious tidbits.

That was… an unusual adjustment. Black Sapphire, who he was, had been made as a messenger. A carrier of news. He fetched back stories from all around to speak to the Fount of Knowledge, for the other had found fascination in being told such stories.

Now, he told stories dripping in falsities and Master Shadow Milk disliked when he shared them all.

It felt like it was in the past with him, bringing back knowledge for his master to interestedly peruse and consider how it affected him. Even though he knew that the other would likely already know, but simply wished for it to be told in a more interesting way.

The problem with the subject of those rumors.

Romance. Courting. Dating.

Candy Apple was convinced that it meant that Shadow Milk was interested in Pure Vanilla. Personally, Black Sapphire didn’t think it was anywhere near as noble. Why would it be?

What benefit of falling in love with Pure Vanilla? And why would he even do so? What did the other have to offer?

Sometimes Black Sapphire wished that Grape Faerie hadn’t been burned by Apple Faerie’s reckless actions.

Certainly, he had tried to disentangle the other persona from her, but the problem is that he still had to manage her when she was in a mood, guiding tantrums occasionally. And so at least one or two of the fairies knew that Grape Faerie and Apple Faerie were connected. And with her clumsy reveal, his identity was thrown under shadow.

Perhaps he might’ve been able to salvage the disguise, after their curtains fell. Convince the others that he had been a hapless bystander.

The other problem was Miss White Lily herself, because she drove him up a wall.

Even more than that Pure Vanilla! Certainly, the bar was practically in the proofing drawer, but he had slithered under.

He thinks she runs the kingdom like it was a research lab on the brink of some kind of massive discovery, constantly in and out of everything. Elder Faerie mostly left the other Faeries to their own devices, uncaring of what might slip in or what might pop-up.

White Lily? Good luck with that. She constantly kept on top of everything, questioning even the slightest irregularity. The one time he had slipped in, it was only by using Silver Bell as an excuse that he managed to slip out under his nose. Not even enough time to seed anything useful.

Honestly, it almost made him wish that the old guy was still around. At least his work would be much easier, and he could do with a bit of relaxation. Sure, the ferries were annoying, but they made a good drink and he could do with some brainless company for a bit.

Like that one silver one, he always listened to his rambling. Black Sapphire tapping a claw against his chin. Silver Bell. Always so patient, even if the other was so naive.

With this whole business of bringing rumors of romance to Shadow Milk and revealing more and more stories, it kept him actually too busy to make any rumors himself. Let alone find a method to slip past White Lily’s surveillance.

It was honestly kind of a weird position for him to be in.

He just simply didn’t have the time and Shadow Milk seemed way more interested in the rumors that were actually true, rather than the false ones.

Black Sapphire tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling. The smell of smoke was growing stronger now, and so was the strange voice.

He should be a little bit worried like Candy Apple, wary of the potential influence Pure Vanilla may be having on Master Shadow Milk.

After all, he was there the last time Shadow Milk cared about the truth, other than something to use as entertainment.

Black Sapphire shook his head.

It was not really for him to think about nor that he really wanted to think about it. Either way, the play would go on the stage with the rise of the curtains, and, well, the players would go on.

Did anything really matter more than that?

He rose to his feet. Time to figure out what Candy Apple had done in her new quest to prevent… whatever she thought was happening. Surely, it couldn’t be too bad.

She set the kitchen on fire, insisting no food could be made. Black Sapphire pressed his palm to his face, beginning to hiss as he pretended not to notice the remnants of a viewing spell he would be getting to the bottom to later.

The kitchen. On fire.

He truly hoped Shadow Milk’s plan would begin soon.

Three birds carrying letters flit over the wind.

The world is beginning to move.