Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everything was in its right place.

Well… kind of.

Dark Choco Cookie had finished dinner, and was watching the last embers of fire die out. His vessel had been finally finished, his backup measures (if needed) prepared, his weapons sharpened, and his letter to his father, and his other friends, written. They were written in the most fancy cursive he could muster–which had gotten worse over the years, but it was readable.

Now… he needed to ensure somehow the letter got to him… The prince ran began to run down the options:

I could walk by foot to the kingdom and request for it to be brought to my father… 

No, I wouldn’t be able to leave then, both because of my father and because I would be too saddened to leave.

I could… ask Caramel Arrow or Crunchy Chip to do it… No, same problem…

I could… hide it and hope he finds it… 

No, that wouldn’t work either. His father needed to find it, he just couldn’t pray that it would reach him…

“DARK CHOCO COOKIE!” Two voices say at once. One is extremely more enthusiastic than the other.

“Hm?”

It was Milk Cookie and Purple Yam Cookie, both wandering together.

“Good evening,” Choco states.

Milk beams, “My prince! How are you?”

“Please, just call me by name. I’m good, how are you?”

The knight sits down on the log next to the prince, and the warrior stands awkwardly.

“Please, have a seat,” He taps the log next to him, and he sits down without a word.

“…” Yam doesn’t say much—or anything, for that matter. Just stares into the fire in silence. He shivers, but doesn’t comment on it.

“…”

Choco stares at him for a moment, and turns to his camp. Grabbing a makeshift blanket, he drapes it over the warrior, tucking it around him snugly. He doesn’t argue.

“You look cold… and you’re lacking winter weather gear. Do you need anything else?”

“Nah. I’m fine. I’m warm-blooded to the bone…”

“… Do you want to talk about it?”

“No… thank you.”

“Do… you want something to eat? Something to drink?”

“Something to drink, please.”

“You, Milk Cookie?”

“Same thing, please.”

As pulls out his supplies from his bag to make some chocolate milk, The warrior glances around the camp.

“What’s that?”

The prince glances up at Yam, “Hm?”

“That?” He motions to the bushes, where his boat was hid and protected by a tarp.

The guide mumbles, “Oh wow.” 

“That’s uh… that’s my boat.”

“A boat? You made boat?” Yam repeats.

“Yes.” He turns back to tending to their tea.

“How… impressive. What for? Fishing?”

“No… I… I’m going on a journey.”

Milk perks up, “Oh wow! Can we accompany you?”

He should’ve known that was coming…

“I’m afraid you cannot… it is a… very dangerous journey.”

“Well, we can protect you—I mean—protect each other!”

“Milk Cookie…” Choco sighs, “You know I enjoy both of your company. However, like I said… It is very dangerous. That is why I would like to go alone. I wouldn’t like you both to get hurt.”

“But—”

“Please, understand. The both of you… But… if you do want to a favor…”

“Do I ever! Please tell!”

“I have a couple letters that I need to send to my friends and family south. Do you mind… sending them?” He withdrawals the letters out of the bag, saying “Father”, “Caramel Arrow Cookie”, and “Crunchy Chip Cookie” respectively. 

Milk quickly snatches them, “Why, of course!”

“I don’t think I have a choice, but sure.”

“Thank you, very much,” Glancing towards the fire, “Your drinks are ready.”

He takes the small pot off the fire and pours them into three cups respectively. Handing one to each of them before taking the last one.

“The Wish Tree Village, a little north from here, give me supplies if I do their chores… So I’m quite prepared.”

The warrior takes a sip, “Not bad.”

“Yes, it’s very good, thank you!”

“Your wish is my command. Do you want anything else?”

“No, we’re all good.”

“Alright. You can stay here for tonight if you want, I got plenty of room.”

As Yam and Milk finished their drinks and got ready for bed, Choco stayed close to the fire. The guard was soon fast asleep, but the warrior wasn’t able to rest that easily.

“Prince Dark Choco Cookie?”

“You could just call me Dark Choco, Yam, but yes?”

“This… journey you're going on. Where is it to?”

“… Beast-Yeast. I have some… business to tend to there.”

“No wonder you want to go alone… it is dangerous.”

“It is.”

“I have a question for you, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“Why are you going if it’s so dangerous in the first place?”

The prince falls silent for a moment, eventually replying:

“I owe my father. I’ve done too much. Caused too much suffering. If I win, what I will give to him will be enough for him to forgive me… for me to forgive myself.”

“… And if you lose?”

“Everyone wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“… I’d worry about you. Milk Cookie would. The whole Dark Cacao Kingdom would.”

“That is nice of you to think, Purple Yam Cookie,” He mumbles, “You’ve changed a lot, you know. You’ve… grown.”

“Well… it’s kinda difficult to be mad all the time.”

Choco chuckles, “It is.”

“I’m… sorry I didn’t mature sooner. I enjoy our talks.”

“No worries.”

“… Will we see each other again?”

“I’m not sure… Here.”

The prince makes a new letter, takes off his cloak, and grabs a shirt from his bag. Carefully, he takes off his shoulder armor, puts the shirt on his friend, and buckles the cape upon the warrior’s shoulder.

“No, it’s yours. I—”

“Please, Yam. It’s yours now,” Choco hands Yam the letter, “This is for my father. When you are welcomed into the castle, I would like for you to hide it somewhere, somewhere where my father would be able to find it. I trust your intuition.”

“I… thank you. I will hide it for you,” The warrior tucks the letter into his new pocket.

“Would you like for me to sit with you until you fall asleep?”

“If you don’t mind…”

He slowly lies back down into the tent, his friend sitting down next to him. The cloak made him a little warmer. Before falling asleep, the warrior glances up at his new friend one last time.

“Goodnight, Dark Choco Cookie…”

“Goodnight. Sweet dreams, my friend.”

Chapter Text

“Nothing will happen to you, Father. I will not let that woman cause your downfall.”

That is what Dark Choco Cookie wrote in his letter to his father about a week ago. However, by the time he gets it, he’ll already be home with Mystic Flour Cookie’s soul jam. If everything goes well, that is…

The hardest part of this journey thus far was probably trying to find a vessel to ride across the Licorice sea. The waves of the sea weren’t too strong because he was at the southern edge, but it had to be able to at least hold some weight. He wasn’t just going to steal one, either. So, Choco built one. He traded for what he couldn’t or took from the forest, and constructed it himself. The wood made from the tree, the nails he traded for, the sails he made out of his tent’s cloth… His hands were full of splinters and cuts by the end of it, but he was proud of his work, and that was all that mattered. The ship is pretty good for a makeshift one. Not good as the one’s made by the professionals, but good enough to make it work.

Now, the more dangerous part lied ahead. He had to kill Mystic Flour. She had sent the Pale Aliment which had affecting the kingdom tremendously. He had made his own antidote just in case, which was tucked in his pocket. The prince had not seen what had happened in Beast-Yeast, but he had to be prepared for anything. Accept nothing from anything from that land, anything could be a lie. Lie low. Stay silent and alert.

Now it was time to put his survival skills to the test. He anchored as he reached the peninsula, land filled to the brim with fog. He disembarked onto the floury land and walked onward. 

The white was thick and heavy, causing him to sneeze every so often. It doesn’t dissuade him, as he keeps going onward. He sees the small glow of candles in the far distance, and follows them.

There, the smoke fades–leading into a staircase where laughter comes above. In the distance, the prince can see the temple not too far away. Choco walks to the steps and climbs them.

They turn to him.

“I am the Meat Dumpling King of the East. I bless good Cookies and punish the bad.” The Meat Dumpling King announces, the others follow:

“I am the Shrimp Dumpling King of the West. My breath becomes the wind and blows away all evil spirits.”

“I am the Spicy Dumpling King of the South. My armor is impenetrable, and I bring all things to life.”

“I am the Chives Dumpling Kind of the North.

I became a light for Cookies wandering in the dark.”

The prince questions, “May I enter? There is someone I would like to see.”

“If you wish to enter, you must first wash yourself clean of all worldly concerns.” The Spicy Dumpling explains.

The Shrimp Dumpling adds, “You have done it once before. However, you have lost yourself once more.”

“May I suggest another way? Perhaps a feat of wisdom or strength?” He asks.
“…” They fall silent for a moment, eventually responding, “If you can answer to a riddle, perhaps you will seem worthy enough to pass.” The Meat Dumpling proposes.

“Very well. Go on.”

The Chives Dumpling begins, “It comes for us all, a beast that is death that gives mercy. No matter if you give in to it at the beginning or the end. It is a simple bliss that requires no work. Just being. What am I?”

Choco pauses for a moment, thinking. He soon answers, “Is it apathy the answer you seek?”

“It is. You may pass.”

“Thank you.”

The prince enters, the air still and humid. He walks through the quiet, it being almost peaceful…

No, he could not let his guide down. Something in this place was awry, something was trying to trick him.

Choco walks faster.

Playful singing comes from a small corner, but he ignores the curiosity in himself to figure out who was singing. The prince can feel himself being watched, but doesn’t look behind him.

“Hey! You there!”

The prince pauses. Don’t interact, he tells himself.

“You look familiar! Déjà vu, I suppose.”

The little child sneaks over to him. “I’m Cloud Haetae Cookie! What’s your name?”

“…”

“It’s kinda rude to ignore someone who’s talking to you, you know…”

“Dark Choco Cookie.”

“See, wasn’t too hard, was it?”

Choco begins to walk away, he didn’t have time for this… He had to continue on his journey.

“Hey, wait up!”

Cloud Haetae runs up beside him.

“So, what brings you to my Master’s domain?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I am her guardian, her knight in shining armor—after all! It’s my responsibility to protect her!”

That’s not good…

“I… appreciate the kindness, Cloud Haetae, truly. But I’m all good here, you don’t have to guide me.”

“But I’m the best guide—the only guide, actually! I know ‘tis place like the back of my paw!”

“I understand that. However—”

“Don’t you see the fog? It is quite opaque. You’ll probably need help getting through it.”

“Let me guess, you won’t leave my side even if I ask you?”

“Yup!”

“Alright… You can stop at the temple.”

“She isn’t there at the moment.”

“What?”

“She’s past it, in the mountains.”

“Seriously…”

“Yup! That means you're stuck with me!”

“…”

Since we're adventuring buddies now,” The guide holds out a bun, “Would you like something to eat?”

“No, thank you. I have brought my own food.”

“C’mon, just take it! I assure you’ll like it!”

“… Very well, since you don’t want your feelings hurt,” The prince grabs the white bun and eats it. “Hm. It isn’t half bad.”

“Want another?”

“Fine…”

A couple mantou’s later, they continue walking. The fog is dense, but Cloud Haetae’s eyes can glow–so it’s almost impossible to lose him. They only had to fight a few spiders and wolves every once in a while. The former chatted the entire way through, but it was easy to pretend you were really invested. A few “mhm’s” and nods of the head was good enough for the guide, so it was good enough for the prince as well.

They finally reach the Ivory Pagoda, the temple towering over them. However, the fog made it so you could only see it’s shadow.

“Halfway through! See, this isn’t too difficult–is it?”

“No, not really… just rather foggy.”

“See? This is why you want me as your guide!”

“Yes, yes… Gods, I’m getting a killer headache… ‘tis the fog, I suppose…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make a little pit-stop on the way, and then we’ll continue!”

“Very well…”

The two continue onwards, beyond the Ivory Pagoda were stairs. So many stairs. Choco couldn’t help but sigh.

“Fret not, we're almost to our break spot!”

A large flight of stairs later, they reach a garden… It was filled with cherry blossom trees which grew peaches, there was a pond was away–and it was quite quiet.

“Ah… This place is… lovely.”

“Indeed! The sweetest peaches in Beast-Yeast!” Cloud Haetae plucks two from the tree and gives one to Dark Choco, “Try it.”

The prince withdraws the fruit from the guide and leans in for a bite, the chunk of sweetness breaking off with a small crunch. His headache dissipates, his vision becoming clearer. Perhaps even clearer than before Beast-Yeast.

“Wow… what’s in this thing?” Choco wonders aloud.

“Something incredible, that’s for sure. I’m going to make sure the rocks are stable up ahead. We have to climb to progress.”

“Alright, thank you.”

“Mhm!”

The guide finishes his peach, turns into a Haetae, and jumps away.

“Who are you, exactly? You do not seem to be from these lands.”

The prince turns around, a man smiling behind him.

“Ah! Sorry I stole this… it’s very delicious, though.”

“No worries. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Might you answer my question?”

“Right… I’m Dark Choco Cookie. Son of Dark Cacao Cookie… Prince of the Dark Cacao Kingdom…”

“You seem to be saddened by your titles. Why is that?”

“I’ve done… terrible things. Terrible things that even I cannot forgive myself for. That is why I am here.”

“… Are you avenging your father? Dark Cacao Cookie? By yourself?”

“I’m trying… wait, how do you know him?”

“I figured because you both look alike, I never got his name—but I figured it would be something along those lines. Nonetheless, that’s brave of you, young one.”

“Thank you… may I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you wait until Cloud Haetae Cookie was gone to speak to me?”

“… I do not associate with him. He is a trickster at best, and a killer at worst.”

“Ah… I suppose it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. Finish your peach bao, it has healing capabilities like no other.”

“Thank you.”

He begins to eat once more.

“And one last thing, young prince.”

Choco nods, signaling for him to continue.

“Enjoy your memories, even the unpleasant ones. Those are the things that make you… well, you. They help you learn, grow. A flower cannot blossom without its without sunlight, water, and good soil.”

“Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye now.”

“Wait… will we meet again?”

“We shall see. No matter if we do or don’t, I am glad I have met you. My name is Peach Blossom Cookie, before I go.”

“I’ll see you soon, Peach Blossom Cookie. I promise you I will return.”

The gardener leaves, and as Choco finishes his peach—Cloud Haetae returns.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Choco didn’t know where to his peach pit, so he places it beside the tree. Turning back to his guide, he walks up the half-broken steps. One wrong move would mean falling off the edge, and he wasn’t willing to fall to his demise—though the call of the void was tempting. They continue climbing, the minutes fading, each step more aching than the last.

“Just how many stairs are there?”

“We’re halfway there!”

“How long have we been climbing?”

“Ten minutes, I think!”

The prince groans, but keeps climbing. Step after step, he can eventually see a respite ahead. Three minutes later, they reach it.

“Can we… take a break…?”

“Sure! After this, we're going to be actually climbing a mountain!”

He lies down on the cold rock, a light breeze blowing him–as if encouraging him to stand back up. Choco lets his breathing even out, reaching in his light bag and grabbing his container of water. Any more food would make him vomit from the exercise. He drinks small sips despite wanted to chug it all. He mustn’t waste it.

“Thank you for letting us rest…”

“Why, of course. It’s a guide’s mission to ensure the well-being of his visitors.”

A few minutes of sitting later, he slowly stands.

“Alright… I’m ready.”

“Let’s go then!”

The slope is steep as a cliff. One wrong step, and he would fall off the edge and onto the ground. Unlike his father, he had the health of a wilting flower—so, if he fell, he would probably die. Thus, falling was something that he should try not to do.

“One by one, nice and easy!” Cloud Haetae encouraged.

They moved slowly up the summit. Each movement, whether reaching for a rock or moving a foot, was done with care.

—

Eventually, and with a huff, Choco flopped onto the summit.

“Here we are! Just jump down that crack and she will be there!”

The prince sits up and glances at the view, he could see mountain ranges far and wide—the sun setting below the horizon.

“Thank you, for everything.”

“Your welcome. I hope you come to find out the true taste of apathy! Hehehe!” The guide begins to climb down the mountain. With a sigh, the prince slides down the crack ready to face whatever lied below.

Inside was a large hallway that led into a grand room where Mystic Flour sat, her eyes shut and unphased.

He wanted to confront her, but maybe, it was better this way. Choco just had to sneak up on her… but that was too easy. He had to be careful. His heart beats out of his chest, but the prince takes a deep breath—trying to calm himself. It doesn’t work, so Choco begins to creep towards her.

The prince creeps close, just in range, hand on his handle of his sword. She does not say a word, nor opens her eyes. It was quiet, peaceful, even. The lair was thick with incense from the candles, the smoke dancing up and out a small hole at the top of the room.

When he was close enough, he pulled out his blade and swung it towards her neck. The healer stopped the sword with her palm.

“You dare to kill me like my previous subjects?”

Choco pulls back and lurches his weapon, cutting through a part of her neck before Mystic Flour stops him. She swipes the weapon away, healing away her wounds with ease. The prince veers to the flank, Mystic Flour counters. Her swipe ripping through his makeshift armor and into his flesh. His skin feels like it's ablaze–the blood crawling down his chest. He pitches his sword, not really sure where he was swinging anymore. She resists, seizes his sword and clutches onto it.

“Enough.”

The weapon shatters to pieces, which fall to the floor. She snatches his head.

“Return to nothing.”

A small gasp comes from the prince. As if his voice and strength abandoning him that very moment.

What’s left of the blade falls out of Choco’s hands, and he crumbles to the floor. His head still tilted back by the healer’s resolute grip. The prince’s body begins to go slack almost immediately, not being able to plea for mercy even if he wanted to.

He needed… he needed the antidote…  in his pocket.

Even moving his arm is a struggle within its own right, after a few tries, his limp arm grabs the small vial. As soon as he grabs it, however, Mystic Flour gets her clutches on it. Choco tries to reach for it, but the healer places the medicine far away.

Tears well up in the prince’s eyes. He failed. Again.

Now he was going to die.

“Please… Tell… tell my Appa… I… love him…”

He shuts his eyes. His breaths becoming slow, death rattles. But death doesn’t come, it waits. Pausing only for a moment. He opens his eyes.

Mystic Flour tilts her head, like a curious bird, “I’m looking through your memories, child… I understand how you feel. I felt just the same before. No love, doing what made other’s happy for scraps in return… and when you didn’t conform to their standers… they abandoned you.”

“No… Appa… loved me…”

“Did he truly? His mercy—banishing you on one of the most artic nights of the year? Leaving you to die in the woodland alone? Even when you had nothing, people still leached off of you. Your pride, your health… until a void was left. Such a solivagant man you were forced to be, weren’t you?”

“…”

“I can feel the apathy blooming in your heart, my child… but your memories are getting in the way. I can take that onus away from you. I can make you happy. Give you true happiness. A loving family… You just need to give me those pesky remembrances and ambitions… I will replace your old traumas. You shall be reborn as my son.”

One hand holds the back of his head, and one goes onto his forehead.

It felt as if she were unraveling his mind, like it was a blanket–pulling away the loose threads she considered unneeded, leaving a thick fog in its wake.

It was a slow process, but the mist in his mind was cold, his body shuttering as it begin to encompass his mind. The prince’s body growing weaker and weaker. The white hairs on his scalp spread, as if she were infecting herself in him. His vision blurred, his eyes changing into a more dark hue.

“No… mine…”

“Shhh… hush now, my baby. You shan’t worry about such pressing matters.”

“Appa… hel…” His thought is cut-off as she puts a finger to his lips.

“Shush… You shan’t call that king ‘father’ anymore. For he is now your enemy. He was never quite a father, anyhow.”

By the time she was finished, the cold, welcoming haze infected his mind like a virus. Nothing else was left. No name. No memories. No hopes and dreams.

Just silence. 

In her hand that she pulled away from his forehead was an oval-shaped jewel… its color was the warm color of the sun. It was very shiny. 

When she took the gem away– it seemed the final pull to take who he once was, the end of life.

Seeing it made him feel almost… warm. Like he had seen a long-lost friend after many years. Or… remembering something nice… an example would be… one that he didn’t know…

He wanted to speak, but his mouth felt slack and unusable. Unable to move in the certain way to form words in the first place, only a small croak comes from him.

He stared at the woman who cradled him close, her eyes filled with apathy and… something else. Something that he could not pinpoint just yet.

“Rest, my son. Close your eyes. Let it be harkened by all of Earthbread that you are now the Son of Apathy.”

And he obliged. Shutting his eyes, he falls asleep without a word of protest.

Chapter Text

He opens his eyes, staring up into the ceiling. He was lying in a bed with white sheets. The room was dark, only alight by three candles on the nightstand beside him. The room's walls were a dark gray, the furniture a mix of slate and bronze or brass. 

God, where was he? He tried to scavenge his mind for clues–what had happened beforehand.

But nothing came. Every small detail he tried to grab onto shrunk away like smoke before he could realize what or who it was.

He furrowed his brows like someone in deep thought. 

Think, think… What is something you definitely know?

My name, of course. My name is…

His name was… what was his name? Who was he?

His mind was like a blank canvas, waiting to be painted on by some expert painter of some sort. There was a tingling sensation in his head, but it was easy to ignore.

What did it matter, what his name was? He was calm and happy. A bit chilly, but still happy.

Glancing to his left, he found a woman sitting next to him.

“Ah, my son… you’re finally awake,” A smile ghosts on the woman’s face, taking his hand. Her hand was cold as ice.

The words come out before he could stop them, “Mother?”

His cheeks flush, but only a little. The words feeling nearly natural–but also foreign. The woman chuckles, she was slim and was fair as snow. Her lengthy hair was in two tassels. She wore a white hanfu for clothing and a veil on her head.

Mother replies, her voice calming, “Yes?”

“I’ve seemed to forgotten, well… everything… I cannot remember a thing. Like my memory has surceased.”

“It appears you have never had the best recollection, my son. That is why Mother is here, to make sure you never forget.” She gives him an almost maternal kiss on the forehead, “Here. Let me help you up.”

Mother gently lifts him into a sitting position, “I am Mystic Flour Cookie, your Mother. You are Light Choco Cookie. You have a brother, his name is Cloud Haetae Cookie. 'Tis the Ivory Pagoda, your home.”

“Mother?”

“Yes, my child?”

“Why don’t I desire or require sustenance? Or why am I not fatigued? I figure those are normal, human traits–yet I feel none.”

“Because that is the gift of Apathy and forgetting, my son. You needn’t any other worldly desires. You simply need your family is all.”

“I don’t think I have as much Apathy as you do, Mother. You are quite more calm than I.”

“That is alright, my child. You may not have as much Apathy as me, but you are still happy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but… I think peaceful or… tranquil is a better word.”

Mother chuckles again, “Indeed. You are peaceful, as you should be. No more worries or fears. Unlike previously… you’re calm.”

“‘Unlike previously’? What happened before?”

“You were lost, when I first found you… scarred and anxiety-ridden. Trauma’s too heavy to bear. I helped you, I took away that onus from you; look at you now. Calm and peaceful.”

“Mhm… I feel perfect. Thank you for helping me.”

“Of course. Good, good. I am relieved to hear that.”

“I like your hair. Like… the tassels.”

“Would you like me to put your hair up too?”

“Yes, please.”

She gently positions Light Choco’s hair towards her hands and starts to braid it. Her slim fingers running through his hair. She does the repeating pattern, one strand of hair over the next. Over and over again.

“What thin fingers you have, Mother.”

“All the better to make precise movements, my dear.”

“It feels quite soothing when you do that…”

Mother hums happily, her apathy fading for a moment in the silence between the two of them.

Eventually, the strands finish at the bottom. Mother takes a cloth and finishes the braid, then lifted it into a bun. Another cloth and a few pins longer, it was finished.

“Could I see myself somewhere? Do we have a mirror?”

“Of course, my son. Come along now.”

She takes his hands in hers and helps him out of bed, he almost trips, but Mother catches Light Choco.

“Thank you, Mother.”

“Always. Do not worry, my son. I will always catch you when you fall.”

She takes the stool beside her and places it back near the vanity. With careful steps, Mother places him on the stool. She takes an incense stick from a small bowl on the desk, and lights it from a candle on the nightstand. With that, she spreads the flame to the candles. Each flame casting a warmness around him. Once she was finished, she put the incense stick in its holder.

“Can you see yourself clearly?”

“Yes… oh wow…”

In the mirror seemed almost a friendly yet distance face, like one you would see in a dream. His skin was a dark brown, but his hair was a sharp, contrasting white with only a few black strains. Light Choco’s eyes were a dark black, his pupils bright yellow slits. Above his eyes and eyebrows was a small mark or scar in the shape of the diamond, it was a gray with small vein-like marks next to it. Light Choco’s fingertips to his elbows were a gray-white mixed with gold. It was the same for his legs, which the color went to his feet to his knees.

Speaking of scars, was a scar on his face, it went from right above his eyebrow, through his left eye, and down to his cheek. Yet, he could see just fine. 

“What’s this?”

“Hm?”

“The scar on my left eye, where did I get it from?”

“That was before I found you. I healed your eye, but I kept the scar as an homage to your past. Even though they severely mistreated you, without them, I wouldn’t of saved you otherwise.”

“How merciful of you… Do you know more of my past?”

“I know everything about it. Barbarians, you used to live with. More focused on training to be warriors than anything else. No love there. No peacefulness. Only training for wars and fights that they could not predict while locking themselves away from the rest of the world.”

“So… if there would are no wars or battles, everything would be for nothing?”

“Correct.”

“That’s… a bit absurd. I get preparing just in case or for tradition, but if it becomes excessive and nothing ever happens… I would get mad.”

“That is how you got your scar.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. You disagreed against their rule, argued with your father, who is the leader, and you fought. You got that scar, and then he banished you.”

“Hm… well, if that’s how they acted… I don’t want to go back.”

Mother smiles, “You don’t have you. You can live with me, forever in the Ivory Pagoda, where you belong.”

“I’d like that a lot, Mother.”

“Then so be it,” She puts her hands on his shoulder, leaning her head against head, “You shall live with me, for all of eternity.”

“Thank you. Also, thank you for putting my hair in this bun, Mother… I like it a lot. I think it suits me.”

“I agree. You look perfect, my son.”

“Thank you… wow, I am saying a lot of ‘thank yous’ today.”

“Agreed. Follow me, my child. Let me reintroduce you to your brother.”

Light Choco slowly stands from the stool, Mother putting her hand on his shoulder as she guided him out of his room. There were many murals on the wall with many pillars and railing next to them, with either candles or incense sticks next to or across from them. The halls were so large that you could probably stack ten beds on top of each other, and the ceiling would still not be reached.

An amused smile forms on Mother’s face, “You seem to be enjoying the view.”

“I do… it’s quite beautiful.”

“Everything must be new to you, isn’t it?”

“Mhm. That’s what makes everything so interesting to look at…”

“No wonder you gawk at everything, my son. You can ask me whatever questions you like. The world is your oyster.”

“Thank you, Mother. I appreciate it… was this building made all for you?”

“Yes, well, I made it.”

“How lovely… I love how gigantic it is, and all the murals makes it so… so…”

“Divine?”

“Yes, yes… that’s the word. Makes all those… holiness much bigger and beauteous then I… then anybody, for that matter….”

“Such the poet you are, my child.”

“That’s just my feelings, I suppose…”

“Well, I think your feelings are incredible.”

“Thank you, Mother…”

They walk down the hallway, and at the end is a small child. His paws resemble those of an animal, and he is half the size of Light Choco.

“Light Choco, ’tis your brother, Cloud Haetae,” She introduces him, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Cloud Haetae, ’tis your brother, Light Choco.”

“Hello!” The guardian greets.

“… Cute.” Light Choco puts a hand on his brother's head.

“Hey! I’m older than you, you know!”

The younger brother just laughs happily, rubbing his older’s head for a second. Mother smiles before he's let's go.

“Here, children,” She takes her hands, and clutches her hands together. Making a white powder. Molding this powder, she makes two kites. She handed one to each of them, “Go out and enjoy the sunshine, I’ll be here if you need anything.”

“Wow… That’s magnificent.”

“Thank you, Light Choco. Now you two go and have fun. Alright?”

“Okay, thank you, Mother.”

“Oh, and one last thing.”

“Yes?”

“Beyond the temple is a small garden with peach trees. Please be cautious of the man tending to the garden along with his fruit. He is very dangerous.”

“Mhm… got it. Thank you.”

Cloud Haetae smiles, “I know the best spots, follow me!”

The older brother rushes out of the temple, and the younger follows. Out they go, and the older one runs behind their home. The younger one, once again follows. There was a staircase that led downwards and towards a large pillar in the distance. The sun was high into the sky, shining yellow rays heat against the baby pink clouds in the sky. Mountains rose near that bright ball of light as if to shield it if any invaders dared to harm it. The wind blew just in the right direction, yet was a bit weak. He assumed they simply had to run down the stairs to get their kites in motion.

“You know how to fly a kite, right?” Cloud Haetae asks.

“You… uh…”

“Let me just show you!”

The older brother grabs his kite by the handle, and runs down the steps. The toy click-clacking as he ran down the stairs, and soon enough, it began to soar. A cheeky smile appeared on Cloud Haetae’s face as he stared up at it—

The older brother trips downstairs, and barrels into them face first. His hands released as he fell, thus he let go of his kite. One strong gust later, and up and away it goes.

Light Choco gasps and hurries down the stairs, “Brother! Brother are you alright?”

“Owie…” Cloud Haetae grumbles, rubbing his face as he glances up, “No! My kite!”

The toy floated down and towards the peach garden.

“She won’t be happy…”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll retrieve your kite.”

“But—“

“Tell Mother I’ll be there in a moment, or you can use my kite. She’s inside anyway,” Light Choco hands him his kite, “Please, take it.”

The older brother takes the kite, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ll be right back. Try tossing out the drachen, maybe then it’ll fly. I’ll be right back.”

The younger brother rushes down the stairs. Being careful to not trip or fall.

Who-knows-how many steps later. He realizes that there are even more stairs to get to the garden. With a sigh, he climbs back up the new stairs to get there. Each step seemed more challenging than the next, but he eventually gets to the top.

At the summit, there it was. The garden with its beautiful cherry blossom trees that gave a floral scent. It gave him a bit of déjà vu as he searched for the missing kite. Glancing around, he sees the dragon kite trapped in a tree.

“There you are,” He mutters, walking up to the large oak. Carefully, he climbs up the tree and pulls the toy out of the tree—it clacking to the ground as he climbed down.

Picking up the kite. He turned away.

He shouldn’t be here, Mother said so.

Walking away, a voice calls out:

“Dark Choco Cookie? Is that you?”

Light Choco turns around, it was the gardener. He hesitates before responding.

“I… uh… no, I am Light Choco Cookie. My Mother forbade coming here, I should really—”

“What happened to you? Did she—”

“Please. I need to go.”

“No— You promised you would return! I didn’t expect you to come back like this!”

“I did no such thing!”

The gardener reaches out for him, holding out a gem as orange-yellow as bronze. It touched him only for a moment, but the memory it sent shocked him like lightning.

***

He was a young boy, his skin entirely a dark, chocolate brown. His hair a void black with little white strains. A large man stood ways away, discussing with someone else. He held the same traits, but had much longer hair. His cloak a dark purple and silver. He stumbles almost helplessly, his vision blurring and his limbs feeling like noodles.

He mutters, “Appa… I don’t feel so good…”

The man turns around, his dark purple eyes boring into his soul. The man's face goes from one of neutrality to shock–maybe even fear as he gently puts two hands on his shoulders, getting down to his level.

“My son, what happened? Are you hurt?”

“I feel… dizzy…”

“MY SON!”

Everything goes black.

***

Light Choco immediately recoils, “What illusion have you bore onto me?!”

“It is no illusion! This is your past child! You must remember!”

He shakes his head, stepping back, his face turning into a scowl, “You do not know anything! I am Mystic Flour’s son! The Son of Apathy!”

Light Choco turns and runs, the gardener does not go after him.

As he bolts down and up the stairs again. A flash of doubt enters his mind. Who was that man? Why did he look like that before? Was that his father, or someone else?

Though, he decided one thing for certain: He had to tell his mother. Each step felt much heavier, if he were bearing the sky itself on his shoulders as he bolted.

She awaited him at the top of the steps, giving him a hung as he fell into her arms.

“You were very brave, going to get that kite,” Mother said.

“He showed me an illusion by placing this gem on me, a terrible one! I was with a man, and I called him father, and—”

“Shhh… shush, my child. Let me take this onus away from you.”

Mother guides him to the floor as she sits down, wrapping him in a cocoon of her embrace. She ghosts her hand on the kite and places it aside Light Choco leans against her chest.

Mother forms a similar, golden rock piece in her hand. Just rather tainted, and seemingly more heavy. He gasps.

She assures him, “Don’t worry, this one isn’t corrupted. Unlike the one he had, just close your eyes and relax.”

Mother places the stone on his forehead, and the cold fog fills into his mind, rolling around like clouds within the sky… his eyes roll back, then flutter shut.

Then silence.

—

He opens his eyes again with a yawn, “Mother…?”

“Yes, dear?”

“What happened…?”

“We were out kiting, and you got tired, so we decided to relax. Cloud Haetae wanted to go take a nap, so he went inside; you wanted to stay out here. So, I let you nap out here with me.”

“Ah… that’s right… my apologizes, Mother.”

She just chuckles, “That’s alright, my son. After all, you’ve never had the best memory.”

Chapter Text

Purple Yam Cookie wakes with a hum, he might as well get up for real this time—there was no point in rolling around for any longer. Rubbing his eyes, he sits up. It has been a… about a week since Choco left. 

He hasn’t returned yet. Maybe he had just gone to the citadel already? No, he wouldn’t do that. Not without warning, at least.

Yam doesn’t know what he’s expecting, just that he will show up. That the prince will shake him awake with that warm smile and his prize from his journey in tow. The one smile that didn’t ever feel like pity or something similar.

For now, though, he was gone.

… Well, not exactly.

The warrior pulls out the letter Choco had snuck into the cloak’s pocket before leaving a week ago. Both the letter and robe had the faint smell of chocolate still lingering.

Pulling out the card, he reads the letter to himself again—the words never feeling old. 

“My Dearest, Purple Yam Cookie,

I’m writing this while you’re asleep, and even then I can see your growth. From a scarred man set on destruction not to get hurt again, to a more dignified  man, starting learning to take control of what you can—similar to me.

Like a blooming flower, all it took was time, love, and no one to trample on your garden. It took me a long time, too, to make the best of my situation. I still haven’t truly gotten over it yet, but I hope one day I will.

I understand that Milk Cookie is a… lot at times. Rather fan-girly sometimes, if you will. Though, it is clear he means well—and I wrote him his own letter. He has to deal with his own issues, and so do you. Together, I’m sure you two will make a great team. I believe in you both, and I know you two can grow into much greater people.

If you need it, here’s a little about my family:

My Father, Dark Cacao, (you will probably address him as ‘King Dark Cacao’, though), may come off as cold and aloof, but underneath is a heart of gold. Compassionate and caring he is, but he tries to not wear his heart on his sleeve: but he will warm up to you eventually, fret not.

My brother, Crunchy Chip, has inherited that from my Father as well. He is wary of strangers, however, when he knows your heart is in the right place—you’ll be fine. My brother also has a wolf, he’s tamed and usually acts like a dog when he warms up to people.

My previous mentee, Caramel Arrow, will most likely be guiding you to bring the letters. She is the first watcher, and is never cold. Arrow is the warmest out of the guard, at least, openly. She can be serious when need-be, but mostly around friends she smiles.

That is everyone, but you will presumably meet more people. So have fun, and meet some new friends.

(P.S., please remember to hide that one letter for me, thank you. Also, please do not tell my Father about me going to Beast-Yeast, he deserves to find out himself).

Goodbye, I’ll be seeing you, 

Dark Choco Cookie.”

Milk Cookie must've gotten a letter, but didn’t speak of it. So neither did he tell him about his. He tucks the letter back in his pocket. 

Standing up, Yam walks out of camp, grabbing some tinder and kindling. Walking back to the site, the warrior takes a few pieces of actual wood fuel.

Yam puts a few pieces of tinder before building a teepee out of the tinder.

Choco, before leaving for Beast-Yeast, left a bag of goods. Inside, luckily, was a box of matches. Thus, the warrior grabs the bag and pulls out the box.

He fumbles with it, fire still makes him… uncomfortable. However, there was no other way to warm his breakfast, so it had to do.

Yam takes a match, lights it, and makes the fire. Once the match runs cold, he tosses it in. The warrior digs through the bag again, grabbing a pan as well as some bacon that he traded for a few days ago. The cold and some salt had luckily kept it from rotting. At least, it didn’t seem to be rotting. There were no signs of rot, so it was good enough for him.

He puts the pieces on the pan, and the pan on the fire. Soon, the bacon began to crackle to life. Yam placed his mace against his leg, just in case a wild animal came thinking that breakfast was for them.

The silence of morning is comforting based on what would happen later in the day. They would arrive in the kingdom approximately by noon, and have to explain their reason for entry. If everything went well, they would be able to deliver the letters–and explore the citadel. It would be a good guise to hide that one letter. Yam had never been inside the castle, so he had no clue where to hide it yet. The warrior just figured somewhere that the king would eventually look at would suffice.

Yam flips the bacon, shimming the pan a little. The meat sizzled, and it didn’t look burnt, thank god.

“Good morning…” Milk Cookie yawns.

“Morning.”

He sniffs, stumbling onto the log, “You got bacon? How?”

“I… traded with one of the villages coming towards the north before we left. Very kind people they are.”

“Oh, at the Wish Village?”

“Yes.”

“I talked to a few of them once! They were quite kind, they even offered shelter at their homes. I, sadly, had to turn them down because we’re on our journey here.”

“Hm. I didn’t know that,” Yam turns back to the bacon, “Could you get one of those a skewer for me?”

“Of course!” The guardian turns to the bag and gives it to him. The latter stares at him until it is done.

“Thank you. Please take that paper wrapping, too: That’ll be your plate.”

The warrior puts an even number of slices on the paper where it was originally wrapped. The ones for himself he left in the pan.

“Be careful, they just finished. Do you want the fire still on?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Alright… I’ll keep it on then, for your sake.”

Milk blows on his bacon a few times before grabbing a piece and eating it, “Thank you, it’s good. Just the right texture, not too chewy, not too burnt.”

“You're welcome, I think I’ve finally got it right…”

“You did! Try, try again.”

“Thanks.”

“Mhm. Are you going to eat your bacon or do you want me to eat it?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna eat it.”

He blows on his meat before eating it, and Milk was right. It did taste pretty good.

“Better than last time, that’s for sure,” Yam mumbles, “That… was a disaster…”

“Indeed… but, hey! Practice makes perfect.”

“True, I suppose… I didn’t almost burn down the forest this time.”

“You didn’t; the bacon isn’t burnt, either.”

“Mhm.”

Eating his last piece of bacon, he stands, “Let me clean up the pan. I’ll be back.”

“Alright. I’ll pack everything up.”

“Thanks.”

The warrior stands, and walks west towards the small ravine a couple of minutes away. Once he reaches the river, he carefully walks down and rinses the pan out. The one bar of soap they used was for washing only, they couldn’t waste it on a clean pan. After all, the leftovers enhanced the flavor… kind of.

Once the grease was cleaned off the best Yam could muster, he climbed back up the slope and walked back through the trees and bushes to go back.

Moving a long branch out of the way, the warrior entered the camp again. Milk had already extinguished the fire, and held out their bag of goods.

“All done?”

“Yup.”

He puts the pan in the bag, “I can carry it if you want.”

“No, I—”

“You carry letters, I carry the bag. Give it.”

“Fine.”

The guardian passes the bag to him, Yam slings it over his shoulder.

“Speaking of the letters, you got them?”

He pulls the letters out of his armor, unsurprisingly in perfect condition.

“Right here! Do you have everything you need?”

Yam makes sure the secret letter is snug in his pocket, “Yeah. This is perfect. Let’s go.”

The duo start to walk south towards the Dark Cacao Kingdom. The thought making the warrior almost a little uneasy. Having the audience with the king was intimidating, and he had to be on his best behavior. For Choco’s sake, if anything. How would they deliver the letters if they seemed like no-good thieves?

Milk Cookie, however, was the exact opposite: he was practically jumping up and down from excitement. The guardian had always talked about—no, —dreamed about entering the citadel and talking to the king, or anybody for that matter.

“You seem excited.”

“I am! I can’t believe that we will get an audience with the great king!”

“It’s not guaranteed…”

“We got the letters with his word! Isn’t that enough?”

“We gotta be on our best behavior. It is the king after all, and he has to take our word for it.”

“It’s clearly Prince Choco’s handwriting!”

“Technically, it can be forged.”

“Hey!”

“It’s a possibility.”

“It’ll be fine. Be positive, Yam.”

“I’m being positively rational.”

The guardian chuckles, “I guess this is why we are a good duo, I’m positive, and you're rational.”

“Exactly.”

The two kept walking the faint smell of smoke coming from where they were walking to.

“That must be all the braziers and lanterns! That means we must be close.”

“Probably. Or maybe the wind is just spreading the scent.”

—

Eventually, they escaped out of the forest and arrived at the edge of the kingdom.

“Halt! Who goes there!” A woman yells from her post.

“I’m Purple Yam Cookie, this is Milk Cookie! We are delivering letters to the king!” Purple Yam yells as he takes off his hood, then motioning to the guardian for the letters. Milk let’s out a shy, “oh!” before giving the messages to him. He waves them around, “They say one is for Dark—I mean—King Dark Cacao Cookie, another is for Caramel Arrow Cookie, and the last one is for Crunchy Chip Cookie!”

She mutters something before walking down her watchtower. Once the woman reaches the bottom she repeats herself, saying:

“You aren’t the usual messengers.”

“This is from Prince Dark Choco Cookie. He asked if we could deliver them for him.”

“Truly?”

“Look at the writing for yourself. Also, this is his cloak. He let me borrow it.”

She takes the mail and glances at it, then back at them, “Why would he need you to deliver it?”

“He’s going on a journey… he said it was dangerous, and he wanted to go alone. We obliged that request…” The guardian mumbles.

“Yeah, what he said. Milk Cookie is a bit shy, don’t mind him.”

“Am not!”

The woman snorts, “It’s alright, don’t worry. Okay, I believe you. I’ll ask for an audience with the king on your behalf. I’m Caramel Arrow Cookie by the way.”

“Shouldn’t you take your letter?”

“Not yet… it’s uh… against our rules, I believe.”

“Why?”

“Probably because it’s mail.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, that’s why. We merely just deliver it to the king, if anything. Would you like to come with me?”

“Sure.”

Caramel Arrow gives a nod to another watcher before saying, “Follow me.”

Entering through the large doors, the pair realized just how large the citadel was. There was one, winding hallway that branched out like a large tree.

“Wow.”

“How do you not get lost in here?”

“Years of passing through.”

They begin to walk, and as they do, they see many servants, healers, and knights walking.”

One murmurs, just loud enough to hear, “Is that the cloaked figure that brought the bamboo shots?”

“It can’t be! He had much darker skin.”

Yam rubs his head awkwardly, “Sorry to burst your bubble… but I’m just borrowing this from him, have a good day, though.”

“See, I knew it!”

“…”

They keep walking until they reach the end of a corridor with another large pair of doors.

“Wait here.”

The two stayed standing there as she entered. Glancing around, he felt small. There were many banners, and two guardian statues on each end of the door respectively. Above the entryway were two metal dragons, one white and the other black.

Would the king even listen to what they had to say?

“He’s ready for you. I’ll be behind you if you stumble. Just keep walking forward until he tells you to stop, then he’ll take it from there.”

“We’ll be fine,” The warrior shrugs, but isn’t even sure if that’s true. The guardian didn’t say anything, as if already intimidated.

She opens one door, and another guard opens the other. The two begin walking inside, and Yam scanned the room.

Beside the throne on each side sat many guards in a line; the king, of course, on his throne. His face was firm and resolute, as if a mountain.

“Stop.” He commands when they reach about halfway towards him. They stop.

“Thank you,” The king begins, “I hear you’ve come to deliver letters from my son, is that true?”

Milk doesn’t speak, frozen from fear. Yam nods, “Yes, that is true, Your Majesty.” He holds out the letters.

“Now tell me, nomads,” King Dark Cacao initiates, “How did you retrieve these letters.”

“We have always traveled together, and about a week ago we stumbled upon Prince Dark Choco Cookie’s camp.”

“Proceed.”

“He was calm and invites us in. I didn’t talk too much while my friend did most of the chatting. I… have never been too fond of warmth, my past… wouldn’t allow it even if I wanted to be. So, let’s just say my attire… wasn’t too fitting for the weather. He offered me a blanket then, but then gave me one of his shirt and the cloak that I am wearing currently.”
His eyes soften for a moment, but it doesn’t reach his face. He nods.

“So, he offers us something to drink, which we both accept. While he made us tea, I noticed something in the bushes.”

“Which was?”

“A vessel. It wasn’t as great as the boats that you possess, but well enough to carry him along with his things. I, of course, ask why he possessed it. He stated that he made it himself and that he was going on a journey. Like I stated earlier, a dangerous journey that he said he wanted to go alone on. Milk still wanted to help, so he asked if we could deliver this letters to you. One for you, one for his brother Crunchy Chip, and one for his old mentee, Caramel Arrow. We accepted, and that is why we are here. He let us rest at his camp, and he was gone by the time we woke up.”

“Do you know anything of this journey? Where it is? Why he went?”

Yam remembered what Choco had stated in his letter,

“ Also, please do not tell my Father about me going to Beast-Yeast, he deserves to find out himself”.

“I’m afraid I do not, but I believe these letters will give you all the answers you need.”

“May I have these letters?”

“Of course.”

Yam closes the distance, and hands him the mail.

“Thank you… Is there anything you want to say, Milk Cookie? I notice you haven’t said anything.”

Milk blushes like a tomato, “I… I apologize, Your Majesty. I am… awed by your greatness.”

“No problem. I just noticed you didn’t speak…” The ghost of a smile quirks on his face, but only for a moment, “Also, I would like you two to stay the night in the guest bedrooms. Just in case there is something rather important inside these letters that I would like you all to stick around for.”

“Of course.”

“Caramel Arrow, please show them around. You three are dismissed.”

“Thank you.”

The three leave.

“That went great! You did fantastic.”

“I probably should’ve said more…”

“Nah, we got it in the bag!”

She began to show them around, training rooms, supply rooms, the dinning room…

They continue to walk down the hallway, and they passed one of the few rooms that was unopened.

“What’s that?”

“Ah… that’s Prince Dark Choco Cookie’s room. No one is allowed to go in there, even I. Servants dust everything off once every good while, but… that’s all I’m afraid.”

Yam had to get in there. For the letter.

“Sorry I mentioned it…”

“No, it’s alright.”

They continue walking, when they turn the corner and get around roughly halfway he mutters:

“Uh… Caramel Arrow?”

“Yes?”

“Where are the bathrooms?”

“Oh, down the hall, the fourth door on the right. Should we wait for you?”

“Nah… I gotta… go number two…”

She snickers, “Okay, but when you're done ask someone to bring you to me, and then we’ll continue.”

“Thank you…”

Yam stumbles to the bathroom and shuts the door. He waits a few minutes, making sure everyone was gone. Once the warrior was certain, he sneaks out of the bathroom and into Dark Choco Cookie’s room.

Everything was caked with dust, making him sneeze. Since people would come eventually clean, under anything would practically impossible. 

Yam opens the closet, and scoots in. Three loose floorboards tremble. 

None of the others had done that…

He kneels down and prys the floorboards out, revealing a small box. Taking it out and carefully opening it…

It was full of Dark Choco Cookie’s things or gifts. Photos, drawings, cards…

The warrior had heard of the prince’s banishment. Perhaps, so overcome with grief, the king hid what had son given him?

His gut told him it was the right spot, so he puts the letter in the box, shuts it up, and puts the floorboards back in the spot.

Yam shuts the closet and leaves the room.

—

Dark Cacao Cookie sighed, standing from his throne. 

Another thing done for the day.

Those letters had been haunting him all day.

His son going on a journey? Where? Why?
So many questions had swirled in his mind, making it impossible to focus, but he pushed through, as always, and now the king hopefully would get answers.

First, however, he had to give his younger son and Caramel Arrow their letters. Thus, Cacao left the throne room.

Luckily, Caramel Arrow along with the two others were walking down the hall.

“Ah, there you are,” The king says, giving the archer her letter, “I thank you for not making me go on a goose hunt…”

“We just finished our tour. Thank you, King Dark Cacao Cookie. Have a good night.”

“You too, and… do you know where Crunchy Chip is?”

“Probably his shift north.”

“Thank you. Farewell.”

“Goodbye.”

The three continue walking, and he marched out the castle and towards the snow dunes. It was colder than usual that night, but Cacao pushed through.

“CRUNCHY CHIP COOKIE!” He yells.

His son rides toward him, “Yeah?”

The father gives his son the letter, “It’s from your older brother.”

“I’m… almost afraid to find what is in here.”

“Don’t be. I’m here if you want to tell me anything,” He encourages, “Please, go inside. Someone else can pick up your shift for tonight.”

“But—”

“Please. I have it in order.”

“Very well…”

“I love you, Crunchy Chip Cookie.”

“I love you too, Appa.”

As his son rides down towards the citadel, he can’t help but frown. I love you. Such simple words, yet he couldn’t even say them to his firstborn. He only said it when he was desperate, like when Choco passed out when he was just a young boy. He was so pale when he stumbled towards him, calling for a father that was too busy for him…

Cacao commenced walking toward the castle, glancing towards his own letter often.

What could be so important that his son had to write to him, his younger brother, and his old mentee?

He would soon find out, he supposed.

Entering the castle, he tells a guard to take over the shift, then goes to his study. The winding halls now feeling dizzy. Soon, he reaches the room and sits in his chair.

With the most careful hands he could muster, he opens the letter and reads it:

“My Dearest, Father,

You’re probably wondering why I sent this letter, or why both my brother and mentee got one as well. To put it simply, this one only has the specifics of my journey.

But first off, happy birthday. I know by the time you get this it’s right around the corner. However, if I’m not home by then, I apologize. For you will see why further in the message.

I am going to Beast-Yeast to the Ivory Pagoda. I cannot bear that woman hurting you. Nothing will happen to you, Father. I will not let that woman cause your downfall.

But also, for myself. I suppose you could consider this my seppuku. I have lived a dishonorable life and dishonored our bloodline ever since my banishment; I should’ve done it the moment I had hurt you and gutted myself like the beast I am.

However, I have never truly been able to do it. Too much fear and guilt, I assume. I still have the wakizashi you gave me when I came of age, and I think of doing it from time to time. Yet, whenever I pick it up, I am unable to go through with slicing my stomach or throat.

Thus, I came up with a compromise. I go to Beast-Yeast, and fight Mystic Flour. If I win and gain her soul jam, I honor our family and return home—if not, I’ll die like I should’ve a long time ago.

If I do not return by the time you get this letter, please do not come save me. For I am long gone.

I’m so sorry, and I love you so much.

Your son,

Dark Choco Cookie.”

A hand goes to Cacao’s mouth, the lump in his throat breaking as a small cry breaks through his mouth.

His son… oh gods, Dark Choco Cookie…

Tears started to slip through his eyes before he could stop them. He wipes them away, but they just keep falling.

He had been too hard on the boy, of course he had… he had always stressed the importance of the warrior’s code. To embrace old traditions, to be ready to become king. He had worked his son to the brink. And look at where that got his son.

Ritualistic suicide.

The sound of footsteps breaks his thought. He deep breaths in order to calm himself.

Calm down… everything is fine… everything is fine…

A servant peaks through the door, “King Dark Cacao? Are you alright?”

“Yes…” He chokes out, “Just working… and, could you bring Crunchy Chip in here?”

“Of course.”

She shuts the door, and a couple of moments later, his son walks into the room.

“Appa?”

“Please, sit down my son. Thank you.”

He sits. Cacao wipes his eyes.

“Dark Choco… about his journey…”

“Yeah?”

“He went to the Beast-Yeast. Ivory Pagoda.”

“What?!”

“I’m going to go… to… save him. I want you—”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“But—”

“He’s my brother too, please, Appa. We've gone there before! We know her tricks!”

“… That is true. Very well. We leave… two days at dawn. Not tomorrow, but the day after that.”

“Okay… I’m guessing you’re announcing it tomorrow?”

“Yes…”

“Are you alright, Appa?”

“No… but I… we must remain resolute. For your older brother.”

“I can walk you to bed. We’re going the same way.”

“That would be nice… thank you, my son.”

“Always.”

They stand.

“Appa?”

“Yes, my boy…?

“Will my brother be alright?”

“I’m… not quite sure. But, by the gods, he will come home. No matter what.”

—

Caramel Arrow wakes with a yawn, getting out of bed, she quickly makes it before getting ready.

She had pretty much mastered getting dressed fast, in a couple of minutes she had left her rooms.

“Watcher Caramel Arrow?” A servant began.

“Yes?”

“King Dark Cacao requested you along with the two visitors to come to this morning's meeting.”

“Alright, thank you… I’ll get them.”

The woman nods and says, “Of course,” before leaving.

Weird, but… oh well. Maybe it was something about the letters? But her mail just said that he was going on a journey and that Prince Dark Choco was proud of her, which was nice, but not relevant kingdom wise.

She goes to Purple Yam Cookie’s door and knocks. He opens the door, already dressed.

“King Dark Cacao wants us to go to the morning meeting.”

“Why?”

She shrugs.

“Hm,” The warrior walks out of his room, shutting the door behind him. He goes to Milk Cookie’s room and knocks, no reply.

He peaks his head through the door, “Wakey-wakey eggs and bakey! We’re going to a meeting, so get dressed!”

A yelp comes from inside and he shuts the door.

“Don’t worry about him, Milk sleeps like a baby. Sometimes he needs a bit of persuasion.”

“‘Wakey-Wakey eggs and bakey’? That’s what you say?”

“Yeah? And?”

“That’s a bit hilarious, honestly…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The guardian walks out of his room, “Sorry…”

“No big deal, we just found out this morning. Let’s go.”

The three walked down the halls and towards the large doors, the trio quietly entered and stood along to the side—-waiting for the king to arrive. Through the quiet chatter, she surveyed the room to see if Crunchy Chip was there. It seemed he wasn’t, all she could see was her companions and colleagues. 

“What do we do when Cacao comes?” Yam asked.

“Once he sits down you sit on your knees.”

“That sounds uncomfortable…”

“You get used to it after a while.”

Soon, he arrives. Everyone stood at attention for him. There are bags under King Dark Cacao’s eyes, as if he didn’t sleep all night—like something was haunting him. He looked the same way after Prince Dark Choco Cookie had been banished. Tired, depressed; uneasy. As if he were to break into sobs any second. No one mentioned it.

The king sits down in his throne, and everyone follows suit onto the ground. He starts to speak, his voice hoarse and less commanding than yesterday.

“Before I start this meeting, I have an announcement to make.”

The room is dead silent, as if holding its breath.

“Remember those… letters our two… nomads sent kindly to the kingdom?”

There are murmurs of agreeing and noddings of heads, there are a few glances at the three of them.

“Well… after reading the papers, or at least, my letters… It was revealed that my son has gone to Beast-Yeast to Mystic Flour in an attempt to kill her.”

A mix of gasps and mumbles fill the room in discussion. Caramel Arrow’s head spins.

Beast-Yeast? Why?

“Silence,” He orders, “Please…”

The room dies down.

“I am not having the full army come, as the kingdom is not in desperate emergency and things still need to be taken care of. However, since I will be leaving, I am leaving the kingdom in everyone in this room's care. As almost a… council if you will. Anyone who wants to come with me will stay after. That is all announcement wise… now onto the meeting.”

The rest of the meeting was basically just a blur of questions and answers that she didn’t even bother listening to. Soon enough,

“You are dismissed. If you want to come with me, stay.”

Everyone leaves except the trio of them, the king sighs:

“Tough crowd, it seems… the three of you, rest today. Tomorrow at dawn, we’re leaving.”

Chapter Text

Light Choco reads through the scroll, the faded text just dark enough to read:

“… Including granting wishes, the Virtue of Volition was a wise seer, capable to foretell events long before their arrival. Her trusty yet witty mutt, Cloud Haetae Cookie, always stood by her side to shield the mystic one.”

In the library, he could find out anything about his wonderful Mother or older brother. Oh, how many stories and legends, there were. From miracles to supernatural beings, the tales never seemed to end. Not to mention, he learned many new words and phrases. Everything felt so different and new, thanks to his Mother’s lovely guidance. Which was splendid; for the enlightened one wanted to absorb all he could like a cotton towel.

“Reading as usual, I see,” Mother gently quips, wrapping her arms around him in a behind-hug, “You just love reading about our history, don’t you, my son?”

“Of course, Mother,” Light Choco giggles.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that? You read like your life depends on it… and your powers are getting stronger. I can tell, with each time you need to get rid of a burden of your past… the length to when you realize it, and you let go is much shorter.”

“Thank you, Mother. I appreciate your teachings very much… but… I’m not as strong as you, I’m afraid… I still get vertiginous whenever I do it. It works, yet…”

“Fret not, my child. It shall come with time. Do not doubt yourself, letting go is much easier, is it not?”

“It is… I feel much freer now. More at peace when those pesky memories are not filling my mind and giving me inhibitions or worries.”

“Then let those thoughts that trouble you go, for they don’t serve you anymore. Let them go along with the wind, as they should.”

“Yes, Mother,” The enlightened one focuses on the thoughts, letting them fill the circumference of his mind.

I get dizzy when I pluck my memories, and I’m not strong as my Mother… I’m also unsure if I’m doing too much or too little; I’m frightened the most that my insecurities will get in the way of my journey.

His hand goes to his forehead, and the thoughts fuse to his figures like string held in the hand of its weaver. Light Choco’s head spins, but he pulls his hand away slowly; trying to keep the strings intact by keeping his hand steady: instead of yanking. If he yanked, he’d get a huge headache, and a jumble of mix-matched thoughts.

The strands, as usual, are cold and have a gray-blue tint. They feel like ice on the enlightened one’s fingers, but he keeps slowly pulling. The thread emptying from the spool of fear in his mind. Light Choco leans heavily onto Mother as he pulls farther, the last-minute uncertainties leaving his mind with his hand reaching half-way to his side.

Mother gently stops him by holding his arm, then takes the strands. His hand falls to his side, and she holds him close, sitting in a nearby chair.

“Thank you, my dear. How do you feel? Any doubts?”

“I am as right as rain… No doubts. Thank you, Mother. You truly are the Virtue of Volition…”

“Awe, thank you dear… truly, how sweet you are… Now, tell me about the history you’re reading.”

“Oh, right… is it true that you can predict the future?”

“That is correct.”

“Can you do foretell what will happen soon?”

“Yes. For you, my son, it shall be done.”

Mother shuts her eyes, holding the enlightened one close. She takes deep breaths, going silent. A few moments later, she hums. The sound neither out of happiness nor despair.

“What did you see, Mother? Was it good?”

“Sadly not. However, it is preventable.”

“That isprodigious. How so?”

“I don’t want you or your brother to go out for a while. It is for your own safety. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mother. I understand.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Mother rubs her hands on his shoulders, “I am beatific that you listen to me so well. I appreciate it copiously.”

“Always, you are my guardian after all. Both maternally and mentoring-wise.”

“Indeed. I have thought you many things, haven’t I?”

“Yes, you have.”

“How to sew, how to remove memories, how to turn things into flour and vice versa… what else…”

“Oh! You’ve taught me how to do calligraphy and to draw! Honestly, I really like my drawings… perhaps I’ve always had a knack for them.”

“That’s right… how smart you are, my child.”

“I’ve gotten it from you, Mother. Truly…”

She chuckles, and the two sit in silence for a moment.

“Mother?”

“Yes, my son?”

“I don’t mean it out of rejection or hate, I faithfully love you and the enlightenment you have so generously bestowed upon me; however… I want to learn more about my past, so I don’t make the same mistakes in the future.”

Light Choco cannot see his Mother’s face, but he can feel her frown. The room feeling a little colder as her face shifts. Mother holds him close, cradling him in her long sleeves like a cocoon of warmth that he never wanted to escape from, shielding him from prying eyes.

“I assure you, my son… mistakes help you learn and grow, however, under my careful watch; you will not have to worry about such things.”

“I suppose that is true… you have kept me safe, warm, and fulfilled. Yet, I… still want to know.”

“Very well… Those beasts focused nothing but tradition, especially your father. He trained you to the brink, focused on legacy and being the heir rather than love. He even worked you to the point of fainting.”

“Do you think he ever loved me?”

“No. You were simply a tool at his disposal; and when his tools were no longer useful… he replaced them. As soon as you were gone, your younger brother immediately took up the status of heir,” She explains, “He stole everything from you, my sweet. You’re fame, you’re pride… the love that you should’ve gotten. It seemed like you were just a spare to that savage, a training doll. When he finally learned how to interact and treat people normally, he had already thrown you away.”

“Really?”

“Yes. In fact, he began to treat everyone better. His son, his knights, his people… yet, he still abandoned you. Never reached out, even when you helped him stupendously. You continued to suffer, over and over, and when you came to me with your woes. Crying at my feet like a puppy that had been kicked too many times, I decided to give you the life you’ve never had.”

“Why would he do that? I though parents are supposed to care…” He sniffles, sounding on the verge of tears.

“They are, but that one didn’t.”

“I hate him… why did he have to be so cruel?”

“I do not know, and I sincerely apologize… Yet, I still hear that doubt in your voice… what is it that is troubling you, my sweet?”

“I just… I don’t know why I was made anymore… was my destiny just to suffer over and over…? I don’t… I don’t understand…”

“No, not at all, my child. You are perfect… would you like me to heal your pains?”

“If you are willing… I don’t want to speak of him or my old life ever again… I want to feel the apathy you speak of, Mother.”

“Of course, my son. It shall be done for you. You already have apathy in your heart… however, if it is the apathy I speak of… Let me simply give it to you.”

She pulls one of her hands away for a moment, clenching it into a fist. When Mother opened her hand again, on her palm was a bronze, closed-lotus that seemed to be used to spread incense. It was about the size of her whole palm. She murmurs an inaudible phrase, then blows gently on the brass, causing smoke to emerge from the small holes.

Mother guides it to the enlightened one’s face.

“Breathe it in, take deep breaths, my child… See my wondrous thoughts that I speak of.”

“Okay, Mother…”

He takes a deep whiff of the fumes, it smelt like breathing near many roses or daises. Light Choco takes another respire, and then another, and another. The enlightened one kept taking sniffs of the vapor as if it were the last thing he’d ever smell.

Eventually, Mother takes the lotus away. He tries to ask for it back, after all, the enlightened one was rather enjoying the smell; but his body failed him. Light Choco could barely raise his arms, let alone speak.

The moment they were raised— cold, it was so cold. He drops his arms again, flaccidly trying to snuggle up against his Mother as if she were his only heat source in a winter’s storm. He shivered.

His mind was swimming, his body limp in his Mother’s firm grip. She cuddles him close, kissing him on the forehead like a baby who had woken from a nightmare.

Warm—she was so warm… he needed warmth. Warmer. He needed to be warmer. Yes, that is what he was searching for…

He clings to her tight, his fists just strong enough to just barely clench her longs sleeves. She holds him closer.

Mother chuckles, “How do you feel?”

Light Choco felt warmer, and when he tried to think… there was nothing. No thoughts… just empty. Silence.

“Good?”

He gives a slight nod.

“Good, good… This is the piece I speak of when it comes to apathy. No thoughts, no emotions… just peace, and quiet…” She chuckles, cupping his cheek, “You just get to rest… no foolish doubts or anything like that. You can sleep without worry… I can guess you are fatigued, aren’t you?”

He closes his eyes in response.

“I understand, let me get you to bed…”

She lifts him up in his arms, taking the incense holder with her as she leaves the room and walks down the hallways towards his room. The soft swaying of his body with each step making it practically impossible to stay awake. He hums with the next bob, his eyes fluttering back open as he rolls over in her arms, closer towards her, Mother smiles.

“You love being in my arms, don’t you, child?” She laughs, “How quaint.”

She opens the door to his room, and enters. Mother sets the incense flower on his nightstand, then tucks him in. Taking an extra woolen blanket from his closet and putting it on top of his covers.

Everything was so warm, it felt like he was in a cocoon of warmth made of cotton. Like his mind—no, body was made of cotton. His body slack , only being able to be bent or molded by the nature of its creator. His mind empty, not being able to think other than to feel this fluffy and heat that filled the premises of who he was at the moment. The enlightened one’s breathing shallow, his vision a haze. Nothing mattered at this moment. Nothing.

She cups his cheeks, her slim thumbs running circles around them, “Relax, my son… you shan’t worry about a thing. Sleep… shut those eyes… Good, good…”

He shuts his eyes and falls asleep.

—

Cloud Haetae Cookie walks through the silent halls, the murals felt like they were staring at him—almost through him. The mutt kept walking, for once in a long time, feeling afraid. He never knew that his Master could take away memories, nor form a new son like she was molding clay. Haetae knew he should have nothing to fear, his Master would always be kind to him; he had done no wrong and had always protected her, but he feared anyway.

What if he was next? What would happen to him then?

The mutt didn’t know, and that was the most terrifying part. Haetae takes a breath before entering his brother’s room.

His Master sits at Light Choco’s beside like a hawk, one hand holding his. His brother, meanwhile, was in a cocoon of blankets: happily resting.

“Cloud Haetae Cookie,” She says, forming a chair beside her.

“Yes?” He shuts the door.

“I assume you have been outside?”

“I have,” The mutt sits down beside her. He doesn’t dare make eye-contact, staring down at his feet.

“Have you seen anyone out there recently?”

Cloud Haetae perks up, “No, of course not.”

“Hm. I suppose ‘soon’ is later than I thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“I made a prophecy about the future. It did not look bright for you, or your younger brother,” She explains, “Going forward, I do not want you to go outside under any circumstance. For it is too dangerous.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Yes.”

“...”

“Please, watch over your brother. I need to make plans for… their arrival.”

His Master stands, and walks out of the room. Shutting the door behind her.

Light Choco’s eyes flutter open, just for a moment.

“… Brother?” He mutters.

“Hi… How are you feeling?”

“Weary… I’m afraid…”

“How… did you become so drained? You were fine this morning.”

“She… gave me this little… lotus incense holder… it smelt like the… the finest flowers…”

He remembered that small bronze thing. Before she was trapped in that tree, she gave that to him “to protect him”. By the time she had returned, he had just awoken a month before.

“I wanna… go outside… I want to… see the sun.”

“Mother said we couldn’t but…” The mutt glances around, making sure not even the walls would listen, “We can sneak out when you're feeling better. I think I can find something to shorten your sleep.”

“Okay… thank you, brother… you’re very kind.”

“Yeah… You're welcome.”

His younger brother slightly squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back.

Light Choco falls asleep soon after, his hand falling limp once again.

“I’ll be right back,” Cloud Haetae whispers, letting go of his brother’s hand. Now, to find that spell.

The mutt creeps out the room, being as quiet as he could. He didn’t want his Master to find out that he was sneaking around, that is the last thing Cloud Haetae would want.

Because if Mystic Flour found out, she wouldn’t be happy. 

That was for certain.

Chapter Text

The ship rocks back and forth as they sail across the sea. King Dark Cacao, of course, steered the ship while the rest of them were able-bodied sailors. They often switched jobs to pass the time, after all, it was a couple of days at open water. Not much to do: clean the deck? Sure. Make meals, wash their clothing: but other than that? Nothing. Not much to see, either. Seagulls flying by, maybe a fish or shoal swimming along the water, the foam from the saltwater bubbling at the hull of the ship.

Luckily, nothing bad has happened thus far… other than Milk Cookie getting sea-sick and puking into the sea.

Their king has been quiet and seemingly grieving the entire ride. Only speaking when need-be. When someone mentioned Prince Dark Choco Cookie, his face scrunched; King Dark Cacao’s voice grew hoarse as if he were about to break into tears.

Caramel Arrow Cookie knew one thing for certain: this would not be an easy battle. You could tell even now, the air is tense and heavy with unspoken words, promises or apologies that everyone wished that they could say—yet the words would never escape their lips.

After all, the man—no, the prince that they wanted to apologize to was probably long gone. His corpse is somewhere near or in the Ivory Pagoda.

Without saying it, the king seemed to sense his son was dead, or gone, or something along those lines. King Dark Cacao was acting, or in better terms, mourning as if his son were already gone: which was not encouraging.

Even the whole crew could feel it. Purple Yam Cookie became more closed off than he already was, still wearing the cloak from the older prince. Milk Cookie tried to stay positive, but it was clear even he was wavering, and Crunchy Chip was in the same headspace as his father. She was in the same boat as Milk.

There was no way Prince Dark Choco, his loving mentor, could be dead. No formal goodbye, no hugs, nothing. Just a letter that seemed more soulless each time read. If Choco was alive, he must have been changed by Mystic Flour Cookie. There is no way that the beast would be merciful to the man.

Perhaps it was better if he was dead. Maybe Mystic Flour did something to him, something much worse than death. 

She pulls out his mentor’s letter and reads it again:

“My Dearest, Caramel Arrow Cookie,

It has been many years since we have truly spoken face to face. However, I still see you when you come into or near the forest. I can see how much you’ve grown. Why, when I think of you, I see that young girl who loved to train and learn, me as her mentor.

You’re much sharper. You steady your breath every time you shoot an arrow from your bow, you do not flinch: you are fluent in your weaponry as if it is the language we bear from our own tongues.

I am deeply proud of the woman, the warrior that you have become. You have become the First Watcher, one of the highest honors. What can you not do? You are an unstoppable force, and I see great things in your future.

The reason I am writing this letter to you is because I am going on a journey to a dangerous land. I’m not sure when I will return. Please, keep this in memory of me. I assure you we will meet again one day.

Your Mentor,

Dark Choco Cookie.”

Crunchy Chip walks beside her, putting one arm on the railing of the ship, the other on top of that; then rests his head.

“Feeling under the weather?” She asks.

He doesn’t make eye contact, “Who isn’t?”

“...”

They stand in silence. No one speaks. What is there to say? I’m sorry for our loss?

The younger prince turns his head towards her, mumbling something that she didn’t quite hear. She turns towards him.

“Pardon?”

“What did he write in your letter?” Crunchy Chip repeats, a little louder and slightly annoyed.

“Would… Would you like to read it?”

“Sure…”

The archer takes the letter out of her pocket, and extends the paper to him. He pulls out his own; they switch papers. She takes note and reads it:

“My Dearest, Younger Brother,

When I see you from a distance, in the crowds next to our father, I can only stare in awe. I remember when we first adopted you, when you were a little cub along with your little wolf friend. I cannot believe that you turned into the man you are now.

You have the perfect skill set of a warrior. You are honest, humble, determined, fluent, and much more. You, my brother, are everything that I could not be and more—and I am deeply proud. As an older brother and your mentor.

From a fearing child to the best tamer in the Dark Cacao Kingdom, I can feel nothing but respect and love for you. I apologize for not being there in your life because of my banishment, so let me state everything I can.

I love you so much, Crunchy Chip Cookie. You are a sight to behold, and I am so proud to be your brother and mentor. I see the brightest future for you. 

I’m going on a journey, and I don’t know when I will see you again. So please accept these few gifts of mine. I hope you all the best.

Your Brother; Always,

Dark Choco Cookie.”

“How heartfelt… If I may ask, what were the gifts that he gave you?”

“A couple drawings of us and a star flower. Those are the prettiest of plants back home…”

“He truly loves you a lot, doesn’t he?”

“Who did he not love? He was always kind to everyone.”

“True, true…”

They give their letters back to each other.

“I snuck a peek at Milk Cookie’s letter?”

“You did?”

“Yeah, so?”

“What did you find?”

“It was kinda like yours… talking about how proud he was. How he would go to great places…”

“Hm.”

“All of our letters roughly said the same thing, other than Purple Yam Cookie’s. He won’t let me look at anything,” He continues, “They all were heartfelt… but they were all hiding the fact that he went to Beast-Yeast. That was only in Father’s letter.”

“I wonder why he would hide something that important from us… we aren’t babies anymore so—”

“Maybe he still considers us as such. Like… he still sees us as the children that he mentored.”

“Probably… he stated that in the letters, didn’t he?”

“If I read it right, yes.”

A small gasp comes from the front ship, with King Dark Cacao leaning over the wheel to see more clearly. The duo lean over the railing to try and see what their captain was gasping about.
They had reached Beast-Yeast, the peninsula not too far away. Perched to the left was a small sailboat, anchored and left there. The land, other than the tip, was covered in fog.

“Crunchy Chip Cookie, Caramel Arrow Cookie,” The king commands, his voice less booming than before, “Go get the others.”

“Right… I’ll get them, stay here, Crunchy Chip.”

Caramel Arrow goes to the inside the ship, Milk was staring out the window and Yam was testing his dagger on a piece of wood. The ship stops, anchoring.

“You two, we’ve arrived. C’mon, hurry up.”

The former immediately perks up and walks up to the deck, while the latter gets up slowly and follows her up.

Their king, younger prince, and his wolf were already gone, searching the abandoned sailboat. The three disembark the ship, following their leader onto the other.

“There has to be at least something in here!” The prince says, looking under a seat.

His wolf has his snout pressed to the floor, eventually beginning to growl at a small compartment at the rear of the vessel.

“Good boy! Thank you.”

He opens the latch and pulls up a large bag. The prince starts to pull things out one at a time, “Food and water… food… more food and water… a change of clothes… a hatchet… First aid kit… two blankets… some matches… a map… a compass… and a…”

“... And a what?” His father questions.

The prince gently gives it to his father, as if one wrong breath would rip it into tiny pieces. She peaks over the King’s shoulder to glance at it.

The photo was faded, with her, Crunchy Chip, King Dark Cacao, and Dark Choco Cookie. They were all young back then, all more naive. In the snapshot, a hand was on the older prince’s shoulder. A silent sign of pride, of love .

“Please, my son… Keep it.”

“Okay, Appa…”

Crunchy Chip takes the photograph and puts it in his pocket.

“Anything else in there?”

He digs through the bag, finding another piece of looseleaf. He holds it out to his father, “You keep this one. I suppose there is more… love put into it.”

King Dark Cacao takes the papers, and for a moment, a flash of it is shown to them: the same photo, but drawn. Each pencil stroke was made with purpose. Milk and Yam had separate, mini-drawings on looseleaf.

Crunchy Chip begins to pack away the belongings. Once he finishes and puts it away, their king turns to them: “Let’s go. Stay close, the fog is heavy.”

The group clusters together, and enters into the woods. King Dark Cacao’s soul jam glistens in the white, making a perfect marker.

Luckily, no one trips over anything nor animals attack them; a few uneventful minutes later, they reach the entryway of the Pagoda. The dumpling guardians sit at the top of the entrance, chatting away without care.

The king frowns, “Stay here. I’ll tell you when it’s safe,” 

“But—” Crunchy Chip argues.

“Stay.” 

He unsheathes his sword, and starts to walk up the stone stairs. The guardians turn towards him, and King Dark Cacao starts to fight with them. With a few slashes, one was gone, then another; and soon enough they had all scurried away like mice. 

“It is safe now. Let us travel onward.”

The four of them climb the stairs, and with a nod of their leader, they enter the beast’s home once more.

It was almost surreal, and rather eerie walking through these pathways with ease. Last time, it felt like a fight to the death, each monster or guardian in their way more dangerous than the last, but now… the threats were already gone. They kept their weapons clenched close.

King Dark Cacao stops in his tracks, one of them almost bumping into him. Caramel Arrow follows his eyes, and sees what he is staring at:

A few staircases away, two people leaning over the railing, staring at the view. One of them was Cloud Haetae Cookie and the other they didn’t quite recognize yet. They had long, white hair with black accents—their hair in a loose bun. 

Their leader’s hands tremble, but only just for a moment. He sighs, clutching his weapon, “I want to see who the new person is. I need to know if my mind is playing tricks on me.”

There are nods and mumbles of agreement for the former. They start walking again.

Once they reach the walkway that the two are on, they can hear a snip-it of conversation between the two, which have traveled to a nearby fountain. 

“These are my Master’s favorite,” Cloud Haetae explains.

The man chuckles, the sound sending a chill down her spine. He plucks two white tulips from the bunch.

“Here then,” He says, putting one into the guardian’s mane before putting the other in his own hair, “One for you, and one for me.”

“Dark Choco Cookie?” King Dark Cacao whispers.

The man turns to them, having that same sly smile that only Mystic Flour bore, “No, I am not.”

He, however, looked almost the same as the older prince. Yes, he had inverted hair from the prince, the same eyes as the beast who resided here, and white fingertips—The man had the same figure, face shape, the way he held himself… his scar on his eye. This was definitely Prince Dark Choco Cookie. Yet he had no recollection of who he previously was.

How was this happening? Was this truly the prince that they knew?

Caramel Arrow didn’t make eye contact, trying to steady her emotions hand shaking hands. While the king and his younger son simply stared.

“Do I look like your old friend?” The man quips.

Their leader stutters, “No, no… my son. You could be his twin… You look exactly the same, just your hair and eyes are—”

“My name is Light Choco Cookie. I don’t look like a… ghoul, do I?”

“No… you look just… uhm… uncanny is all.”

“How intriguing, you have piqued my interest,” Light Choco’s smile doesn’t drop, “What has brought such weary and afraid travelers to this abode?”

“My son, Dark Choco Cookie traveled to these lands around a week ago. He hasn’t returned… So we have come looking for you—I mean, him.”

“Name sounds familiar… Don’t think I know him though. I figure you are his father, but what about the rest of you? Swains and lemans?”

“No, they are not suitors,” He replies,  “This is Crunchy Chip Cookie, his brother; this is Caramel Arrow, his old mentee; and Milk and Purple Yam are his friends.”

“How quaint. This Dark Choco must be loved dearly for all of you to come.”

“Indeed, we… all love him dearly.”

He chuckles again, sounding the same way that it used before he got turned into… this, “I believe I do not know this fellow, however, I can guide you to my Mother. She might know.”

“And who is she?” Crunchy Chip asked. He knew the answer—they all knew, but he questioned anyway.

“Why, Mystic Flour Cookie, of course. The soothsayer of these lands! Actually, we aren’t supposed to be out here at the moment… but hey! What’s the problem of having some fun? Anywho, Mr. Stalwart, what’s your name?”

“Dark Cacao Cookie. King Dark Cacao Cookie.”

“I didn’t know I was dealing with a royal, my sincerest apologies… Also, behind me is Cloud Haetae Cookie. He’s weary of travelers, so don’t mind him. Let us thither to my Mother’s home!”

The two start to walk, and Cloud Haetae doesn’t say anything. Commared to the first time that they arrived, the mutt seemed like two different people. Perhaps he, too, dislikes the change in their old prince.

The group starts to walk again, with the two residents in front, their king behind them, her and crunchy chip, and Yam and Milk in the back.

Caramel Arrow glances at Crunchy Chip, his lips trembled as his eyes looked as heavy as boulders. She was about to ask if he was alright, but figured it was a dumb question.

King Dark Cacao truly was rightfully grieving this entire time. However, he, too, didn't seem to expect this outcome. Now being much more rigid then before, his face a deep scowl. Maybe he was already plotting his revenge against Mystic Flour Cookie. Crunchy Chip, meanwhile, was greiving the loss like her. 

“We’ll… figure something out. We always do.” She mumbles, putting a hand on his shoulder. The archer, too, had fitful breath--tears threatening to spill.

He glances at her, only for a moment, “But what if we don’t?” the tamer whispers.

“I don’t know…”

“We’ll beat up Mystic Flour until we get answers,” Purple Yam suggests. He seemingly was trying to block it out like their leader, while Milk beside him was in the same boat as her.

Crunchy Chip lets out a small snicker, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. Caramel Arrow sucks back her tears, nodding in agreement.

As they pass a small tree, Milk Cookie quirks an eyebrow, “What’s that?”

They pause.

“Hm?”

“What’s that?” He repeats, pointing at the soil. A small patch was shinning.

“Huh,” Light Choco mutters, glancing at the dirt, “I don’t know.”

“I can dig it out,” Cloud Haetae volunteers, raising his hand.

“Go right ahead.”

They all gather ‘round, and the mutt digs at the dirt.

Chapter Text

Cloud Haetae Cookie digs through the dirt, throwing the grime aside; making everyone take a small step back.

Light Choco Cookie, grumbles, wiping off the excess soot from his white robe, “You’re going to get my clothes all dirty.”

Caramel Arrow glances to him. Should she still call him Prince Dark Choco Cookie? Or was Light Choco more fitting in this new identity of his? It’s hard to say. She’s still reeling from the fact that this isn’t the man that mentored her. Yet, it was. He was just… different.

“Sorry…” He mutters, still digging. Once he turns back, he cheers, “Aha! There it is!” the mutt blows the loose dust aside. He brushes his hands and takes a step back, admiring his work.

A small piece of what looked like a piece of yellow topaz, a circular piece of topaz, broken off from its original link sticks out of the ground. It surely radiated something , but they weren’t entirely sure what.

“Déjà vu…” Prince Choco mumbles, “Seems familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Crunchy Chip brushes his fingers against the jam, then freezes. Not a pause of hesitation or doubt: just completely stopped. Mid-motion, still sweeping away dirt.

“Crunchy Chip Cookie?” She mutters.

No answer.

“Crunchy Chip Cookie.”

His chest did not rise or fall. His eyes staring into that golden section of jam. The younger prince did not move, like a machine that has been turned off. He was looking at it, yes, but almost into it. Its… contents.

Everyone else stood uneasily behind. King Dark Cacao Cookie seemed in a tug of war battle between stepping in or letting her handle it.

The archer walks closer, tugging his shoulder away. A surge of warmth comes up her arm—just for a moment.

***

She was in the shoes of what seemed to be… a young Prince Dark Choco Cookie? Around two or three. The archer could not move on her own, rather observing what occurred rather than controlling the young prince’s body.

She, (or he?), stumbled—flailing his arms around like a chicken. He trips, but gets back up with a grunt. He keeps walking down the hallway, towards her sire’s study. The door is slightly ajar, and he wattles inside.

Her monarch seems much taller when she is this small. The father takes a book from its shelf, glancing at the title.

“Abba!” He calls, raising his hands.

King Dark Cacao glances to him, dropping the book. The young boy flinches, falling backwards. His father catches him, picking him up and cradling him in his arms.

“You walked all this way… just for me,” His father smiles, “Oh, my son… I love you so much. You will become a great knight.”

“Ba!” He raises his hands again.

King Dark Cacao starts to chuckle.

***

It hit her all at once, but that is what stuck out the most. The rest soon went away, the laughter, the warmth, the love. Replaced with the cold, howling wind of the Ivory Pagoda; along with the worried stares of everyone else.

Crunchy Chip coughs and wheezes, as if he was held in under Licorice Sea—leaning against the archer.

Caramel Arrow holds him, “Hey, hey! Are you alright?”

“Yeah—” He coughs again, “Just… need a minute… Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

She guides him to the ground. His wolf whines, rubbing up against his leg. The tamer rubs the animal’s head.

“Are you sure you’re alright, my son?” King Dark Cacao questions, walking towards him.

“I think so… Dad, that gem it…”

“I figured as such…”

Her sire takes the gem, holding it tightly if it were the most prized thing in the world before placing in the container in his shoulder pads.

“Well, what is it?” Purple Yam asks.

“I don’t mean to offend; however, my son’s memories seemed to be have turned into a soul jam and split it apart. Only someone powerful could do this, a powerful person can create a powerful object. When it is split into pieces, it can become unstable. That is why you froze, my son.”

“Ah…”

“Let us continue onwards, I’m sure there are many more pieces northbound.”

They start to walk again, and the two fill the distance.

“Why would Mystic Flour hide these? This isn’t an Easter egg hunt… Wouldn’t she just keep them to herself?” Milk wonders aloud.

The warrior shrugs, “Who knows… maybe she got so paranoid that she thought that if she kept them–she’d lose them!”

“Still… that is strange, especially for her, of all people,” The tamer chimes in, “I thought she was much wiser…”

“At this point I don’t even know anymore… all this is making my head spin…” Caramel Arrow mutters.

They continue walking down the winding paths, no one speaks—not much to say. The view is quite beautiful, with cherry blossom trees and scatterings of flowers here and there; no monsters come to attack—which almost makes it creepy. Like even the critters that called this domain home abandoned it. Eventually they cross a bridge; the Ivory Pagoda soon becoming visible. A shiver goes down her spine at the thought.

As they pass a small pond, King Dark Cacao pauses, leaning down and taking a closer look.

The group gathers, and he pulls out another link from the soul gem. The king closes his eyes, feeling the memory. Sighing as he puts it in his armor shoulder. He nods, and they keep walking.

“Father?”

“Yes, my son?”

“What… what was in that piece?”

“Dark Choco most recently… from when he abandoned his curse until now… I saw… everything.”

“...”

No one wanted him to continue further. His father falling back to put a hand on his shoulder as they walk, rubbing his thumb in circles. Crunchy Chip leans into it, only slightly.

Soon enough, they reach the entrance. Only Light Choco seemed happy about their arrival.

“Here we are!” He announces, opening the doors, “The Ivory Pagoda! My home!”

“Thank you my—I mean—Light Choco Cookie. You have been a wonderful guide.”

“Why, thank you!”

They enter, and they continue further inside. Dark Cacao let go of his son’s shoulder and went in front, leading the group. They had already been there once, so the two residents stayed behind him.

Caramel Arrow fidgets with her fingers, not even being able to look at the back of Prince Dark Choco Cookie’s head. She had failed him, they all had. Now he was… this. 

Was she even ready to fight that beast at all?

She shakes her fears away, clenching her hands into fists. Yes, yes she was. Her mentor needed her, and she had to save him, they had too—together.

The party entered the large hall where the cocoon was when they first came; there was Mystic Flour Cookie, she wasn’t facing them. Rather seemingly looking at something, maybe a scroll.

“MYSTIC FLOUR COOKIE!” Their king announces, “I DEMAND TO SPEAK WITH YOU AT ONCE!”

She turns to them, and she was holding a scroll. Mystic Flour glances to Light Choco, then at Cloud Haetae, “There you are… my children.”

“Mother… ah… We have made some new friends.”

“Those friends… and that man, King Dark Cacao Cookie, is—or was, your father,” Mystic Flour Cookie explains, “Those cookies are the barbarians I warned you of.”

Light Choco glances to them, horror in his eyes, “No… they can’t be. They have been kind, respectful and—”

“Tricks, my child. Tricks to fool you.”

“It is nothing of the sort. What have you done to him? Why cannot he remember anything of us, anything about his true home?” King Dark Cacao’s face tightens.

“I fixed him, made him better. The son you speak of, Dark Choco Cookie, was scarred because of you. You never gave him true love, only taught him how to become strong. I must thank you, my other half… truly… I never thought I’d have an heir, but you have made it simply too easy. So, thank you.”

“What are you speaking about? I don’t believe you!”

“You taught him to be apathetic to his emotions, to his pains and ills… how do you think he survived his banishment, hm? It was one of the coldest nights of the year, blood seeping from his eye and chest. His eye never healed, doomed to be almost blind, his body constantly in pain. That curse… it didn’t help either. When he tried to fight me, it was painfully clear that he was weak. Like a dying flower… but look at him now,” She motions to his son, “His injured eye is opened; healed. He is no longer in pain, memories nor previous wounds hurt him no more. So, do you see? You make everything worse, I mend it, make it better.”

“I didn’t—”

“You didn’t ‘mean to’? Because you surely made an impact… He called your name, before he went. Before I saved him. I suppose you weren’t listening.”

“He did?”

“Yes. He said you loved him, however, being the holder of his thoughts, memories… I doubt even he believed his own words.”

“He did love me! He loved all of us and our kingdom!”

“Looking through my son’s recollection, and it seems you treated everyone else better than your own son. Crunchy Chip, your adopted son… giving him so much love… Also, your own son’s mentee you treated better than he. That boy always yearned for attention, but got none. Other than being called a monster by the masses because of that curse that you allowed to control him…” Mystic Flour continues, “I suppose Dark Choco Cookie was never the heir of your heart, just a spare.”

“Don’t you dare say that!”

“That is why I took him. He deserves the happiness that you never gave him, and I delivered, didn’t I?”

“He is my son! He went to defeat you, and I am retrieving him! That is final!”

“Well, let us see who he chooses,” The prophet states, “Come to me, my son. Let me heal your pains like I always have… or stay with them. Those… savages that mistreated you so.”

“Don’t listen to her lies! Please, Dark—Light Choco Cookie—whatever you would like to be called by—please, my son! I’m so sorry—don’t go to that beast!”

Light Choco hesitates, taking a few steps forward, glancing at them both.

“That’s it… come to Mother.”

“NO! DON’T! PLEASE, MY SON!” He reaches out for him, but their prince keeps walking away.

Crunchy Chip bursts through the crowd on his wolf, trying to pull Dark Choco back. One hand was holding Mystic Flour’s the other was holding the younger prince’s in a twisted game of tug of war.

“Don’t touch me!” Light Choco yelps, but Crunchy Chip doesn’t let go.

He continues to hold on, his wolf following, despite being only a few feet away from Mystic Flour. 

“You have to remember!” The tamer yells, “You must!”

She opens her eyes, only for a moment, staring at the two.

“Such a brave and loyal knight… you would make the perfect guard. Let us go. I have what I need.”

The three begin to turn into flour as they escape, along with Cloud Haetae. Crunchy Chip tries to turn away and run—but is pulled back by Light Choco.

“Appa!!”

“CRUNCHY CHIP COOKIE!!” King Dark Cacao sprints forward reaching for his son—but their hands pass through each other, like the latter was a ghost or spirit.

They disappear. The Pagoda begins to fade away as well, and the king crumbles to his feet. 

—

Light Choco rubs his head as he regains his barrings, his Mother peering over him.

“I need to show you something,” Mother says, putting a hand on his forehead with the once golden gem on it, the memory forming in his mind.”

***

Light Choco seemed to be back with his father, but much younger and lying in a medical bed.

“My son? You’re awake—oh, thank the gods,” Dark Cacao mumbles, holding his son’s hands. He sounded on the verge of tears.

“Appa?” Dark Choco mutters, his voice hoarse.

“Yes, it is I… tell me, who are you?”

“Dark Choco Cookie…”

“Who am I? What’s my name?”

“Dark Cacao Cookie… you are my father.”

“Good. Who is your younger brother?”

“Crunchy Chip Cookie.”

“Where is your birth land?”

“The Dark Cacao Kingdom…”

“Good… at least your memory is in tack after that nasty fall… scared the daylights out of me, busting your head open like that.”

“Sorry Appa…”

The king’s voice fades as the memory leaves him, “It’s okay my son… I love you, and that’s why I care…”

***

“That memory was… strange. So I was truly Dark Choco before? Dark Cacao was my father? Crunchy Chip was my brother? The… Dark Cacao Kingdom was my home?”

“Indeed… I wanted to show you so you wouldn’t be confused by all that savage talk that they exchanged as we escaped... Do it for Mother, would you darling? After all, you do know how to do it, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Remember, those barbarians are full of lies. We shan’t listen to a word they say, nor a memory they hold, understood?”

“Yes, Mother… I love you.”

“I love you too, darling. Call for me when you’re done.”

She leaves, going up the stairs, and Light Choco wasn’t sure if he was being truthful anymore. The man’s wolf growls at him.

“Sit, please. I’ll be right back.”

The wolf carefully sits, still staring at him. The prince walks forward.

Inside, planted up against the wall, lay the ‘Crunchy Chip Cookie’, if he remembered correctly. He was awake, but bound. The man looked like he had been crying. He did not say anything.

“I’m sorry,” Light Choco begins softly.

The man looks up, “Is it true that you don’t remember anything about who you used to be? Nothing at all?”

“I remember I was your leader’s son, you were my brother, my name was Dark Choco Cookie, and I was from your land because of that memory given, but… that is all. I’m sorry.”

“His name is Dark Cacao Cookie, or in our case, “Father” or… “Appa”,” He corrects, “And the memory ‘given’?”

“Oh… uhm… my Mother stores the memories she deems obscene. She says it’s to protect me.”

“Mystic Flour Cookie, right? She’s your ‘Mother’.”

“Yes. You wouldn’t really call my—I mean— you wouldn’t really call your father his full name. Would you?”

“I wouldn’t… but, doesn’t that seem a little… strange? To hold someone’s memories and only use them to prove a point?”

“It’s to protect me. She says I’m much happier without those memories.”

“Well, are you?”

“What?”

“Are you happy?”

He pauses for a moment before responding, “… I guess?”

“That doesn’t seem too confident…” He stops himself before asking, “Do you want to reep me of my memories? My life before this?”

“No, not at all. You deserve to be with your family that we took you away from, even if we consider you barbarians.”

“Do you consider us that? Or is that just what your Mother told you?”

“I… I’m not sure… but when you were taken from your group, Dark Cacao Cookie charged towards you, trying to pull you away. It was futile, but he tried anyway. I saw such a… a…”

“Love?”

“Mhm. Such love in his eyes, that he needed you to not go. I’ve… never seen that love in Mother’s eyes before.”

“So… Do you think we are barbarians?”

“No. Not even a little.”

“Then why do all this?”

“It’s not my will, it’s my Mother’s.”

“… Promise me one day you will grow a backbone?”

“Promise.”

“Also, can my wolf be here for this?”

“Sure.”

Light Choco motioned for the pet, and the wolf leapt into the room and scrambled to his owner’s side. Sitting on his lap, Crunchy Chip smiles.

“Thank you. I have two more requests, please.”

“Go right ahead.”

“Don’t take Bubby’s memories, he’s too good for that,” He begins, half-pointing to his wolf.

“I’m not a monster, don’t worry.”

“And, uh… keep my memories safe for me, alright brother?”

“Okay.”

“Thanks… and one last thing. If your Mother is going to take all my stuff… you can take my weapon.”

Light Choco takes off one of his chains and receives the clawed weapon, “I’ll keep it safe for you.”

“Thanks, and… can you tell everyone that I love them when they come around?”

“Of course… I’m sorry I have to do this.”

“It’s fine. Just, again, promise to grow a backbone sometime for me, alright?”

“Alright, I promise… and a prince isn’t in the deal of breaking promises, if you’re not aware… are you ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

The son gently places the gift on the ground:  putting one hand on the back of his head for support, the other hand on his forehead.

Light Choco puts his fingers together and pulls— the strands of memories following with a warm glow. Good memories, a good life, a happy life… A small gasp comes from Crunchy Chip, tears streaming out of his eyes. Gods, why did he have to do this?

“It’s going to be alright, don’t worry…” The lies felt bitter on his lips, yet he continued, plucking more remembrances from his head that glowed a warm yellow-orange, like the light emitted from fire. Each time his fingers returned, the man became even more cold. He closed his eyes as the recollection took a peek into his own mind for just a couple of moments.

***

He in the perspective was a small boy, and looked like Crunchy Chip, just younger. He was hiding behind a wall while what looked like his previous self was arguing with Dark Cacao Cookie.

“He cannot keep that wolf, Dark Choco Cookie! It’s dangerous!” His father says.

Choco argues, “It can be tamed like any cakehound!”

“It is a wild beast! It was found in the forest!”

“And? Cakehounds can be found in the forest, and they’re tamed!”

“A cakehound cannot reach the size that a wolf can!”

“I’ll tame it! If I can do it, that proves anyone can!”

“And if you fail?”

“I’ll become as loyal as those cakehounds.”

“… Very well.”

“Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

Choco walks towards Crunchy Chip, who tries to run away, but is caught.

“Ah, Crunchy Chip… there you are.”

The young boy sniffles, holding his wolf cub close, “Did I cause you two to fight?”

“No, nononono! Not at all!”

Dark Cacao walks into view, “I apologize, my son. I didn’t mean—“

“Appa!”

He runs to Cacao, hugging his leg. Dark Choco gives a sad look as he is picked up.

***

Light Choco continues pulling, Crunchy Chip’s yellow eyes boring into his soul. He doesn’t make eye contact, pulling the remaining stands before forming them into a square. The prince gives the strands of soft blow, and it turns into a square bloodstone.

The tamer lets out a small wine, his body too slack to form coherent words.

“Go to sleep, please…” Choco mumbles, rubbing his head. Crunchy Chip falls asleep.

“Good… very good, Light Choco,” Mystic Flour coos, appearing behind him, “You did it. On another barbarian, no less… I’ll make sure he keeps his warrior repertoire, other than that you did beautifully. I’m so proud.”

She gives him a hug, and he accepts it, but doesn’t embrace her fully. His Mother holds out a hand for the soul gem, and he willingly gives it to her. He takes the gift, holding it close.

“You can stay down here if you would like.”

“No, thank you…”

“Very well, go upstairs and rest then.”

Light Choco wanders upstairs. Cloud Haetae is sleeping on the ground in his mutt form. He huddles up beside him. Tears beginning to flow from his eyes.

He had never felt this emotion before, but he didn’t like it. His nose became stuffy, his body shook with each little sob, a small headache forming as his face scrunched.

Was this how his father felt when he and Crunchy Chip were stolen away? Was this grief that those stories and legends spoke of?

Light Choco didn’t know: but it hurt, and he felt like he could fall apart into a million pieces—which was not a good feeling. He hated this feeling, a lot. He craddled the gift close, as if it were made out of the most glittering gold.

He figured had to heal Crunchy Chip Cookie… that’s the only way the prince could forgive himself…

Light Choco started to form a plan.

Chapter Text

Gone. Just like that. Blown away like leaves in the wind.

The Ivory Pagoda begins to turn into dust around them.

“My King…” Caramel Arrow mumbles, “I think…”

Again. His subjects turning into flour. He couldn’t prevent it again.

A thought crosses his mind.

What if they were just illusions? Things to make him crumble to the ground like Mystic Flour wanted? Just like before?

“Hold still, my First Watcher. I need to test something.”

“Yes, My King…”

He walks closer to her, unsheathing his sword. His mind battling with his body.

Do it. Do it now. They are just in your way. You need to save your sons, they need you.

No. Don’t do it. They are your comrades, you are their leader. They need you.

They are going to die anyway. End the suffering early.

But what if they aren’t illusions?

Do it.

No. Do not.

He swings, right towards the head. With a puff of flour, she disappears.

“...”

He sits in silence for a moment. Illusions. All of them. 

That wasn’t her.

It couldn’t of.

He had to do it.

She trusted him.

It wasn’t real.

But what if it was?

The king’s head was swimming. His thoughts fighting each other as if in a deadly battle, so he squats—eventually getting on his knees.

You’re falling apart—just like last time.

Why did he allow her to take them both?

Why didn’t he stop her?

If only he were faster, he could’ve…

The fog moves, the figures of Milk and Purple Yam fading away. Shifting into something else.

“You cannot trick me, not this easily…”

He doesn’t know how long he sits there. A few seconds, minutes… but then, from behind.

Crunch… Crunch…

It pauses, only for a moment, before continuing:

Crunch… Crunch…

“Appa?” A young voice calls, Dark Choco’s voice.

Cacao can’t bear to turn his head, only glancing behind.

There he was, no older than five. His chubby cheeks untouched by the scars that littered them now, both of his unscarred fine eyes open. He carried that wooden sword that was always a little too big that he trained with. He turns for a moment, motioning for someone else to arrive.

A little Crunchy Chip emerges from the fog, even younger—about four. He looked the same way when he was presented to him. Wrapped in a purple robe that was far too big, clutching a whimpering wolf pup, fear and distrust in his eyes.

Choco asks, “Appa… are you mad?”

“I…”

“It’s okay, Appa… you can cry if, you want,” Chip says.

“We’re here for you…”

The king chokes on a breath. Not a sob— not yet— just a sound like the air has betrayed him.

They are too young, too loving. They weren’t even children at the same time, yet there they were. Versions of his sons from the years he can’t undo. Before The Dark Flour War. Before Mystic Flour, even before Dark Enchantress. Before he vilified his eldest.

“Stop…” He whimpers.

The children tilt their heads.

“Leave me,” he says, “This isn’t real… None of this is real…”

But the illusions don’t vanish. They take a step closer. His younger son hugs the pup tighter. His eldest lifts his tiny wooden sword, proudly, like he’s ready to fight the sadness for his father.

His children were gone because of him. Stolen. Forced to bear new identities and have no semblance to who they were before.

What kind of father was he? Leading his children to such a cruel fate?

Memories… previous life gone.

Too late, too late, he was too late—

“LEAVE ME ALONE!!” The sound comes out raw, like a dying animal. The two stare at him.

Tears slide down his face, and he covers them with his hands, “Please… please just go…”

They disappear. Leaving the king alone as he wept. The cool wind blowing up a memory in his mind:

***

Dark Choco had just turned ten, and was ill. Nothing too threatening, just a fever. Yet, his forehead grew hot, eyes bleary—and the young boy refused to go back to sleep.

How could he let it get this far? The king internally scolded himself, sitting by his son’s side. His son had passed out in his arms, he could've passed out in the snow and frozen to death if he wasn’t careful.

“One… one more time,” His son begs wearily, “Let… let me get in the stance one more time…”

“You will do no such thing,” Cacao says, “That is final.”

It took another hour and two ounces of bitter medicine until he started to fall asleep.

Before he did, Choco mumbles, “Even if I’m not strong yet… will you still wait for me to be?”

The father never answered. He, rather, watched his son breathe—to make sure he was alright as he slipped into slumber.

He should’ve answered, but he didn’t. 

Of course he’d wait.

Now, the king didn’t know if he would ever answer his son.

***

Another comes along with it, later in life, but just as bitter. Another shaking breath, another sob:

***

The night of his eldest son’s banishment.

The king had lived the attack with a wound across his chest, wrapped in linen—blood still seeped through. Each breath stabbed him even further. His eyes were shut.

The door creaks open, then shuts. 

A young Crunchy Chip sits in the unclaimed nurse's chair beside the bed, barely four. His face was scrunched up. Cacao opens his eyes, just for a moment.

The boy’s hands were clenching his knees, every breath a sniffle. Knights do not weep. That line repeated in the king’s head as he stared at the boy. Chip swallows bitterly, like the lump in his throat were poison.

The king should’ve said something. Let his son sob into his aching body.

But he didn’t.

Cacao just closed his eyes again, and sighed.

***

Knights do not weep, yet this one did. Not just cried, but sobbed.

“I should’ve held you both… I should’ve told you it was okay to be weak … I’m so sorry…” The king whispers, as if they were there, if they would hear.

The silence did not help. He yearned to hug his children, to comfort their ills, to apologize—profusely for all that he has done.

But he couldn’t. Not anymore.

Crunch… Crunch… Crunch… Crunch…

There’s a wound on Caramel Arrow’s right shoulder that she wrapped in cloth. Milk leans on his shield slightly, a long gash on his left leg–in a makeshift splint. Purple Yam has a bunch of bruises and slight scratches, he’s scowling—as usual.

“Ah! My king! There he is,” The archer exclaims, running forward, “King Dark Cacao, we…—Sire? Are you alright?”

“Don’t come any closer! You aren’t real... None of you are… A trick, you’ll vanish, you all do…”

“Oh god, here it comes…” The warrior mumbles, “We literally fought a bunch of spiders and big, scary monsters in the forest trying to find you, and now we're not real?!”

“Purple Yam, please. Alright… let’s say we're fake. Since Mystic Flour doesn’t have our memories, she would only have our appearance.”

“And?”

“And… That means we would not know of anything of our past. If you ask us questions that only we know, then we must be real.”

“Oh… makes sense.”

“So, what do you say, King Dark Cacao?”

She mentions, “That’s actually pretty smart, Milk Cookie.”

“Thanks.”

“Very well,” The king nods, then pulls out his sword. He points it at the guardian first, “Milk Cookie. Why did you not say a thing when you first arrived at my court with Purple Yam?”

‘I… froze up,” He confesses, blushing a little, “I had this whole speech planned and everything… but as soon as I saw you I froze up. I think what I told you was, ‘I am… awed by your greatness’, or something along those lines.”

Cacao doesn’t smile, not yet. He points his blade at Purple Yam, “Purple Yam Cookie. How many letters did you give to me?”

“Three.”

“For whom?”

“One for you, one for Crunchy Chip, and one for Caramel Arrow… Funny story, I suggested when we were walking we take a peak at the letters. Milk refused, saying he’d bite my fingers off if I did—he got so paranoid I let him keep the letters for the rest of the way.”

“I would’ve bitten your fingers! Those are private!”

Yam laughs. The king’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t laugh along. Finally, he points his weapon to the archer, “Caramel Arrow Cookie, why did I name you First Watcher?”

“There were some licorice monsters terrorizing civilians up north. I… went there on my own and defeated them.”

“Did you defy the orders of your General?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did you go alone?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did you come with any back up plan or measure?”

“No… I did not. It was risky, and you announced to the kingdom as you took my hand that I had the traits that only the best warriors could possess.”

Cacao sighs, a breath of relief. He lowers his sword.

“You’re real…”

The guardian nods, “Of course we are! We wouldn’t leave you behind.”

“Thank the gods, I thought I had killed you all, again…”

“I assure you, we are not going anywhere.”

“Well, I’m glad we fought your delusions, but, we still got work to do,” The warrior shrugs simply, “Are you going to gloom around and give up? Because Mystic Flour wins if you do, and what’s the fun and not beating her up after torturing us for gods knows long?”

The king chuckles, only a little, and reaches up for them, they slowly help him stand to his feet. He sways a little, but regains his footing.

“Thank you, all of you.”

“See, Milk Cookie? I knew my need for violence was encouraging.”

“Sure, truly inspiring, Yam. I am awed by your intention to do harm.”

“We… couldn’t save them, not this time,” The king says, glancing ahead, “I swear by my sword we’ll get them back. We just need to press onward.”

“I figure you have been through these lands before, yes?” Caramel Arrow questions.

“I have… there is a man that I would like to visit again. He was rather wise, maybe… he’ll know something to help us.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? Full speed ahead, captain!”

“Yes, you’re right. We have no time to waste. Let’s go.”

The fog is dense, but together they go through with ease. Yam stayed towards the rear, while Milk and Caramel Arrow stayed on one of his sides.

The archer mumbles, smiling, “Fall seven times… get up eight. That’s what Prince Dark Choco told me once.”

Cacao glances to her as she continues, “It was my first time trying out a bow. It was far too heavy, and I was in the worst stance you could think of… As soon as I shot an arrow I fell over into the snow. He only chuckled, helped me up, brushed the snow off my clothing, and told me that… I still think of it time to time.”

Fall up seven times, get up eight.

His son truly was a mentor, despite being wacky at times…

The guardian hums a merry tune as they arrive at the withering cobblestone stairs and begin to slowly walk up them.

“Someone kill me now…” The warrior wines, but doesn’t tell him to stop.

“We’re… a third of the way there. Trust me, if my back can handle this so can you.”

“Yeah… aren’t you like a million years old or something?”

“Feels like it.”

The warrior snickers, “Fair enough.”

They keep walking up the stairs until they reach the small garden. It looked the same way when he left.

Cherry blossoms on every corner, with small ponds here and there.

“Oh wow… it’s beautiful,” The archer whispers.

“It is. We can relax here, as far as I’m concerned. The man who tends to these gardens is quite the generous fellow. I don’t think he’s associated with Mystic Flour.”

They walk into the shade, the three taking a seat beneath a tree.

“Ah, Dark Cacao Cookie. We meet again,” Peach Blossom says from behind, he turns towards them.

The king nods, going up to him to shake his hand, “Indeed. We have come for both refuge and guidance.”

“I figured as much… you three can take some peaches from the tree if you—”

“AWE HECK YEAH!” Yam springs up and starts picking them from the tree. Giving one for Milk, one for Caramel Arrow, and then one for himself. He immediately takes a bite out of his own before taking a seat, “I was eyeing them up as soon as we got here!”

“I thought you would just steal them honestly…”

“Hey, I might be wild—but I have standards, alright?”

The three laugh as the gardener turns to him, “What the bunch you have.”

“They’re a bit crazy at times, but… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Anywho…” He picks a peach from the tree, handing it to Cacao who accepts it. They both take a seat, “Let’s discuss. What would you like to know?”

“Everything. Please.”

“If that is what you wish. Where would you like to begin?”

“Anywhere… just… I need to have answers.”

“I understand… it seems you have suffered greatly thus far, but you continue onward.”

“Well… what can you do? Fall seven times, get up eight.”

“Very wise of you to think that way.”

“My son made that up, honestly…”

“Well then he gets it from you. Anywho… back to the topic at hand.”

“Right, right. Tell me everything you know. Even if it’s just theories.”

“Very well… The first time I had a glimpse of what had happened… I was in my garden.”

Chapter Text

“In your garden?”

“Yes. It was… mid-morning. I was tending to the blossoms when I saw this,” He says, pulling out a piece of Dark Choco Cookie’s soul jam, “In the bushes. I figure Mystic Flour Cookie the piece that has all of his… unpleasant memories.”

“And that one… that one contains his younger years, I assume?”

“Yes. It does. Before you came along… Light Choco came to my garden because a kite got stuck in a tree. I tried to show him the gem, but he got upset and ran off. I’ve been searching for other pieces since… but haven’t had much luck.”

Dark Cacao Cookie opens his shoulder plate taking out the two pieces. He places them on the floor, taking the gardener’s piece, he puts the parts next to each other.

The oval topaz was almost finished; except a single void at the top right of the gem.

“I think you’re right about Mystic Flour holding that missing piece… but why would she hide them?”

“I have a theory… far before she became a beast, Mystic Flour was a prophet. If she still has that power, she might have predicted that she would lose, and that is why she hid them all.”

“So you think she hid them to keep us from finding them all?”

“Yes.”

A small rustle comes from a tree a few feet away, the group glances at the noise. 

Cloud Haetae Cookie peeks from behind a tree, Light Choco right next to him. 

“Dark Choco Cookie?” Cacao rises. 

The mutt yelps, “RUN! NOW!!”

His son bolts, Cloud Haetae following soon after.

“DARK CHOCO COOKIE!! WAIT!!!”

The king bolts, running after the the two. The knights, muddling in shock, start to follow. He doesn’t wait for them.

Cacao sprints down the stone walkway, the fallen blossoms blowing at his feet. Cloud Haetae stops abruptly, raising his hands.

The king crashes into him, sending both of them tumbling to the hard ground. He grunts then stands, wheezing from the fall, as he starts running—

“CHOCO! STOP! PLEASE!”

The prince doesn’t stop, jumping over a small stream before zigzagging behind a tree–then another. They keep running as the pink garden spins around them. Cacao follows right behind, just out of reach. 

“I’M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU! PLEASE STOP!”

Faster, he told himself— his son was right there!

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO RUN ANYMORE, PLEASE!” The father begs, “I UNDERSTAND! YOU CHOSE HER BECAUSE I WAS NEVER THERE! BUT I’M HERE NOW!” 

A gust of wind blows in their face, blossoms showering overhead. The boy swerves, a slope around the bend.

“PLEASE LET ME MAKE THINGS RIGHT! LET ME FIX THIS! LET ME TELL YOU I’M SORRY—BECAUSE I AM! I’M SO—”

A scream, a slip—Choco barreling off the garden’s edge. A long way down.

“NO!”

Cacao reaches out, trying to grab his skin, hair—anything. 

He gets his sleeve.

For a moment, his son dangles over the edge. His father not far behind. Barely on the cliff.

“Stay still… I got you.”

Cacao hauls Choco over the edge, it takes a couple–good pulls before he reaches his father’s arms. The two falling onto each other. The former holds the latter loosely. His son is still panting, the king rubbing a strained muscle. Neither speak, rather sit.

After a few moments, Cacao puts a hand on Choco’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry, my son… I understand why you would want to run away, and I am sorry I’m the root of that cause, but please; don’t run anymore…”

“Crunchy Chip Cookie… he… he told me to ‘grow a backbone’ before she… before I took his memories.” Choco confesses, “I’m sure… Mystic Flour wouldn’t have gotten mad if I refused… but I did it anyway. I don’t know why. I just… I wanted to help, and I thought that’s how I help… but it wasn’t. That’s not how you help people… so I want to help.” The prince reaches into his robe’s pocket, taking out Crunchy Chip’s weapon along with a square bloodstone, wrapped in cloth, “He this, his weapon, to me as a gift… but I think you should have it. I… stole his soul jam, too. Please, let me help him.”

The father unwrapped the weapon. It used to be scuffed, the blades dull, but now it was polished—good as new, “Thank you… you’ve given me more than I deserve. If you truly want to help… let’s go save him together. Alright?”

“Okay… Thank you.”

“Your welcome. Thank you for… willing do all this.”

“Ah! There you all are,” Peach Blossom sighs, Caramel Arrow and Milk Cookie arriving behind him, “I haven’t run that fast in ages…”

“Is everyone okay?” The guardian asks.

“Yes, we're all fine. Thank you, Milk Cookie,” The father takes the weapon and stands, reaching his hand out for his son. He picks up his brother’s soul jam before standing.

His son quirks an eyebrow before saying, “I… Isn’t there supposed to be more of you?”

The archer glances at the group, then sighs, “... Purple Yam Cookie isn’t here. Nor Cloud Haetae.”

“That… doesn’t sound like a good combination…”

“It isn’t, let’s go find them before Yam does something stupid…”

They start walking back, and Cacao glances at Choco. He’s staring into the distance, not really paying attention.

“Are… are you alright, Choco?” The father asks

“Yes! Yeah… I’m just… uh… thinking.”

“About what?”

“My plan… I… want to make sure I got it right in my head.”

“You can talk to me if you want to. I’m… not going to critique you or your plan.”

“It’s not needed… I have everything under control.”

Even though his son did not remember who he was, he acted the same way his father did. Word for word, beat for beat.

“If you insist… but I’m always here if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

Looking around, a blossom fell on Peach Blossom’s head, and he picked it off.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for housing us, it was quite kind of you.”

“Of course. It is my pleasure. Anyone is welcome in my garden.”

The rest of the walk was in silence, there wasn’t anything really to say. Until they arrived back to where they began, that is.

Cloud Haetae was hanging on a high branch of one of the trees, suspended by his shirt. 

He flailed his limps helplessly, “I told you already—I don’t know anything! I swear!”

“Yeah? That’s what they all say until I start swinging,” Purple Yam chuckles, putting his mace up against his shoulders as if he were about to hit a piñata—determined to steal all the candy for himself.

“STOP!” Choco yelps, running in front of him.

The warrior groans, “I didn’t even hit him yet!”

“Yet.” The mutt repeats.

“Yeah, ‘yet’! I didn’t do anything!”

The king shakes his head, “Purple Yam, why on Earthbread did you do this?”

“I was trying to get answers!”

“And this was the most effective way you could think of?”

“No, but this mutt kept squirming and running away from me! I had to think of something on the spot!”

“Because you were going to hit me!”

Choco takes Cloud Haetae off the tree, and he lands on his feet on the ground—grumbling, “You’re so weird…”

“Thank you. I see that as a compliment.”

“Are you finished bickering? We have things to discuss.” The king asks.

“Yeah…” 

“Okay… Thank you. You all can sit, you know.”

There were a couple oh’s as everyone took a seat.

“Choco?”

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions?” The king asks, putting the pieces of soul jam back in his shoulder plate.

“Not at all.”

“Good… okay. Firstly, what did she do to Crunchy Chip Cookie?

“Nothing physically, just changed his name to ‘Chip Choco Cookie’ and gave him some armor and a sword. I think she has turned him into a guard rather than a son… that’s the best way I could put it.”

“Hm… do you know where he is?”

“I think he is near the mountain; the one you have to climb to… uh…”

“Get to Mystic Flour’s lair, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think your plan will work?”

“Do you think you could hold my brother down for at least thirty seconds?”

“Yes? Why is this relevant?”

“Because if you can, then you’re all fine.”

“Is this a part of your plan?”

“Yes.”

“Well… what is it?”

“Same thing I did to take away his memories, just in reverse… and with the soul jam.”

“And that’s it?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Alright… let’s go then. Everybody up.”

Everyone stands, the king reaches to shake the gardener’s hand.

“Thank you, again, Peach Blossom Cookie. I appreciate it greatly.”

“Of course. I wish you the best.”

After a few more goodbyes, the group walks away and begins going up the stairs again. The cobblestone stairs getting more damaged and falling apart.

Yam grumbles, “How many more stairs are there?”

“Peach Blossom’s garden is about the halfway mark. About… five-ish more minutes?”

“Alright…”

As they continue onward, they can see two shadows above. One a wolf, another a person. It is clear who it is.

“You just hold him down, and I do the rest, alright?”

The king nods. 

“It shouldn’t be too difficult to keep him at bay; your weaponry compared to ours… ours seems rather old-fashioned…” 

No one says anything else, but Caramel Arrow lets out a small snicker along with Yam. They keep climbing up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, there stood Crunchy Chip near the mountain. He wore lamellar armor, and wielded a long sword—a dao. His wolf beside him, it looked fearful to attack. Whimpering as he tried to nudge it forward.

“Stupid dog…” He grumbles, before turning to his brother, “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the… You’re with them , aren’t you?”

“Chip Choco Cookie, please understand—”

“I don’t have to understand a thing! You’re a traitor!”

“My brother, Mystic Flour is your master, however—her methods are rather malicious. I need to confront her.”

“By what? Fighting me?”

His eldest son gives a small shrug, “Whatever gets her attention, I suppose.” 

“Very well, then! We have no room for traitors in these lands!”

He charges towards them, and Cacao draws his blade. The king closes the distance, perries the attack, and kicks his youngest’s son’s ankle, sweeping him and sending him barreling to the ground. He holds him down with his foot, but begins to squirm:

“LET ME GO!” Chip Choco hollers, squirming around under his father’s grasp. Cacao gets down on a knee to hold him more tightly.

Light Choco chuckles, “Thank you… I’m afraid I don’t have a weapon myself.”

His eldest son gets down beside him, and puts the soul gem on Chip Choco’s forehead; the other hand holding his face so he wouldn’t writhe.

“Now what?”

“We wait. It only takes a spell to take memories, not to put them back in.”

“Then… shouldn’t I do the same to you? I have the pieces of your memory and—”

“No… Mystic Flour will be coming soon. She’ll… uh… probably take me again. There’s no point.”

His youngest’s wriggling slows, eventually coming to a stop; with a few blinks–he falls asleep.

“No! This wasn’t part of the plan! You…”

“An eye for an eye. A son for a son… that’s how it goes. I’m sorry, Father. Cloud Haetae, hide behind the others, now.”

“But—”

“Do it.”

“Choco, don’t—”

With a puff of smoke, Mystic Flour appears—and Crunchy Chip’s wolf scurries away. His eldest rises, facing his mother.

“Light Choco Cookie, you have betrayed me. Why?” She asks, her face firm.

“Mother, I love you with all my heart… but these actions of yours are inhumane! Stealing someone's memories and stripping them of their homeland is just… cruel!”

“Come to me, my son.”

“... No.”

“No?”

“No! I want to know why you did this! You say these people are cruel, but they’re the kindest people I’ve ever known! Why did you lie to me? Why did you take away Crunchy Chip Cookie’s memories? My memories?”

“...”

“Say something! Answer me!”

“...” Mystic Flour yanks Light Choco forward, taking a piece of his soul jam and slamming it into his forehead. She holds him as he crumbles to the floor like a decaying flower, “My son, they have corrupted your mind. Filled you with hate and loathing… Fret not. I will save you.”

Cacao darts forward swinging his sword towards the beast’s jugular. She disappears again before he can swing through.

He wasn’t fast enough. Again.

The king curses, gripping his sword tight.

His son pets his wolf’s head, “You were never a stupid companion… never. I’m so sorry I called you that…”

He turns around, and walks back to his son, cradling him in his arms. His son’s wolf curls up beside them.

“I’m here, I’m here…”

“Brother… he…”

“Yes. He did.”

“He must be nearby…” Crunchy Chip’s head motions to the imposing mountain beside them. Mystic Flour’s lair was in that peak.

There was nowhere else she could run.

Chapter Text

The old bloodstone broke, turning gray. He brushes it off his son before turning back towards the mountain.

“I have to go up there, I have to save him…” Dark Cacao mumbles.

Caramel Arrow objected, “Your Majesty, I… I think we should accompany you.”

“No.”

“But—”

“Caramel Arrow… please. Crunchy Chip is still recovering, you and Milk Cookie both have wounds of your own and…”

Milk adds, “We can’t just abandon you! We promised we would stick together!”

“... Fine. Let’s go.” Purple Yam grumbles.

“Fine? But—”

“Listen, I don’t agree about the wounds' thing, I could survive with my injuries and whatever; saving your son, however, is more private… and anyway, he’s immortal and were… not immortal. He could survive Mystic Flour’s antics, but we sure can’t. King Dark Cacao, didn’t you fall off this mountain anyway?”

“Yeah… I did.”

“That’s what I mean! Sure, he can survive a few broken bones; I can’t. I’m not risking it!”

“Your Majesty…” The archer sighs, “If that’s truly what you want, we won’t stop you.”

“That’s what I want.” He turns to his son, giving him a kiss on the forehead before standing. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you, my boy…”

He hands him off to Yam, his wolf following behind.

“Oh, thanks. I guess…” The warrior mumbles.

“I suggest you head back to Peach Blossom Cookie’s garden. He’ll take good care of you there… Take good care of Crunchy Chip, alright?”

“Alright… Just don’t die or anything, because you’re our chauffeur home.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Best of luck then. Bye.”

With a nod, he picks up the wolf and carefully starts walking down the steps. Everyone begins to follow… except Cloud Haetae.

“Yes?”

“Do you want help climbing the mountain?”

“Yes, please… Despite my immortality, I’m not immune to wounds. I don’t want to break anything again, that was a horrible feeling…”

“Alright, follow me!”

The mutt starts to ascend the steep slope, and the king follows. The climb is mostly silent other than the howling wind in the distance.

“Can I confess something?” Cloud Haetae requests.

“Sure…”

“I… didn’t come with your son to Peach Blossom’s garden out of my own volition. Light Choco… he wanted me to come because he wanted to protect me. He said that Mystic Flour isn’t the same woman I protected all those eons ago, and he was right. She’s just… different now.”

“My son… he’s always been compassionate for others.”

“I guess he gets it from you, from being a king and all that…”

“... You must be far older than me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. If I was roughly born the same years when Mystic Flour wasn’t corrupted that makes me far older than you.”

“If I may ask, how did you come to be her guard?”

“Gods… before I was Cloud Haetae Cookie, I was merely a Haetae… and before my master got corrupted, she was able to grant wishes and was a soothsayer. I wished to be the greatest guardian of all, and now I’m the man you see now… I think that’s how most servants of the beasts came to be. Nutmeg Tiger was always Burning Spice Cookie’s servant, I know Black Sapphire was a professor and Candy Apple a person of the faerie kingdom, Pavlova was the same as me… and for Silent Salt, I’m not quite sure. I know he has a son though…”

“How intriguing…”

“Indeed.”

“... Do you think my son will forgive me for all I’ve done?”

“That’s for you to find out… but if I were to guess, my answer would be yes.”

A few more stones later, they reached the top of the mountain.

“Best of luck! We’ll be in Peach Blossom’s garden!”

“Thank you, for everything… I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

“You welcome! Bye now!” Cloud Haetae commences going back down the mountain again, and Dark Cacao Cookie stares at the large crack, leading into Mystic Flour’s lair. A stream of exhaust leaving the area.

He had to be prepared for anything. Anything could be in those walls below.

The king takes a deep breath, holding his sword tight. He had everything under control. He would save his son and banish his other half into the darkness. Forever.

He slides down the large crack, eventually landing into the vestibule. It was filled with a flowery incense, he coughs—swatting the smoke away while looking into the large dome.

His eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, he rubs them and walks a step closer.

Once his eyes adjust, he freezes; the father’s whole body feeling like jelly, his jaw dropping. 

One wrong breath and he would burst.

Nonononono. No, no, no.

This wasn’t meant to happen. This can’t be happening. It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t.

He was supposed to save him, bring him home.

Please, please; let this be a dream. Please. Not him, anyone but him.

Anyone but my son.

Rather than Mystic Flour sitting there, there was a cherry wood casket. Surrounding it were star flowers in neat little pots, and a single lotus placed atop the coffer.

This wasn’t a place of respite and enlightenment;

This was a funeral.

Cacao walks closer, almost tripping on himself as he continues—mind reeling. Every word he shouldn’t of said, every argument, his son’s banishment, the curse.

“You never cease to disappoint me, Dark Choco Cookie. Malicious creature, your name will never be engraved onto the Altar of the Fallen…”

He never did listen to his son; did he?

“You whelp! Your wicked arrogance knows no bounds! So be it! It is my life's greatest regret to have called you my son!”

He never meant that. Never. Not a single word. 

I’m so sorry, Dark Choco Cookie. You were always my son. Please, please forgive me. Please .

The father reverently puts his hands on the top lid, pushing the lotus aside before carefully opening the casket.

Inside lied his son; pale, clammy, frail—his body gasped with every breath as if even the air abandoned him, like he was rotting away.

Again, helpless. Again, too late . 

Had he not learned a thing since then?

“Dark Choco Cookie—!! Oh, my Dark Choco Cookie… I’m here, I’m here…” Cacao gently erects him from his tomb and holds his body in his lap, cradling him close; his son’s right temple up against his lips. The floor was cold, his son’s body even colder.

Choco’s eyes flutter open, his voice croaking, “Appa… is that you…?”

“Yes, yes… it’s me, I’m here…”

“Is… is brother alright?”

“He’s fine, everything is fine…” His Father squeezes him tighter, “What did she do to you?”

“But, brother…”

“He doesn’t matter right now, how are you doing? Please Choco… he’s going to be alright, just answer me.”

“She… fixed me…  said that she would make me better…”

“Again, how are you feeling…?”

“Tired… like I could fall back asleep…”

“DON’T! Just don’t… please, try to stay awake for me… okay? Don’t fall asleep…”

“Okay… I’ll try…”

“Thank you… I just want you here, my son… please…”

Everything goes quiet for a moment. His father takes his son’s hand. Cacao squeezes it tightly, Choco barely has the will to squeeze back.

A gentle memory enters his mind as he holds his son close.

A young Choco sitting in the garden alone on a bench, holding up a small star flower that just bloomed. Cacao didn’t dare to invade. Just watched from afar.

He plucked one of the petals, “Appa loves me…”

His son looks at him with wide eyes—like he was a child again, “Appa?”

“Yes, my son?”

“Appa loves me not…” His son plucks another.

“Was… was I good…? Did I… make you proud…?”

His Father chuckles, tears pricking his eyes, “Yes… you were perfect. You saved your brother… you helped Cloud Haetae flee… I’m so proud of you…”

“Appa loves me…” Another.

“Did… do you forgive me for—”

“Yes, of course…”

“Appa loves me not…” And another. 

“Even my—”

“ Especially that… it wasn’t your fault… it never was…”

“... Really?”

“Of course…”

There was one petal left.

Choco blinks again, slower this time, curling up against his father, “Please… don’t go…”

“Dark Choco Cookie… you’re my son, I’d never forsake you; never.” His father holds him even tighter.

His son smiles, a small sigh of relief coming from him, “Thank you…”

His son’s grip loosens.

“Appa loves me.”

His eyes close. 

The last petal falls.

Cacao freezes.

“Choco…?”

“...”

“No… No… Nononono—no, NO! DARK CHOCO COOKIE, WAKE UP! WAKE UP, PLEASE! I’m here—I’m right here for you, my son—just come back to me… please… please… I’m so sorry… for everything… just don’t go…”

Choco didn’t reply, a smile fading on his face. 

His father holds him closer, afraid that if he let go—he would be gone for good. A sob escapes from his lips, tears once held in now bursting out of him in a disorienting display.

“You were never a whelp… never a monster… never, never a regret… you were my son… my son… I’m so sorry, Dark Choco Cookie… I’m so sorry… please… please come back…”

His son doesn’t reply, the smile now gone; replaced by the blank expression that was on his face when he was first found. His father continued to weep, mumbling begs and apologies that none would hear.

Cacao didn’t know how much he wept, just eventually, it slowed—then stopped. Eventually, he just sniffled while cradling his son close. 

Everything hurt, ached. Worse than when he fell off the mountain he just climbed months ago. It felt like he had been ripped in twain. A pulsing ache, something that begged to be torn free.

Steps. 

Careful, soft—deferential. She walks through the vestibule mournfully:

“It seems you have found my son,” Mystic Flour Cookie murmurs; as if afraid that if she were too loud his son would wake. 

HIS SON. She took him away, SHE DID THIS TO HIM.

“WHY?!” He demands, his body going rigid—his eyes glaring daggers into hers, “WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO HIM?! WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME?!”

She replies, uncaring of his rage, “I couldn’t bear turn him into flour, yet I couldn’t bear to see him suffer anymore; I saw how he wept, how much agony he was in. Suffered too much, received too little. So, I came up with a compromise.”

“SO YOU KILLED HIM? IS THAT WHAT YOU CONSIDER MERCY?!”

“I didn’t kill him. He is alive. Sleeping, but alive. He can be at peace for all eternity. I took away any threat from his memories… that includes his short… excursion with you—but I suppose some of it lingered. Enough for a farewell… at least you gave him closure.”

“HOW DARE YOU,” He bellows, his soul jam gradually darkening. His jaw tightens, “YOU STEAL MY SON, REMOVE HIS MEMORIES, AND CURSE HIM TO INDEFINITE SLUMBER! YOU ARE NO PARENT; YOU ARE MERELY A GUARD TO A PRISONER!”

“I did what was best for him. Now, he won’t be disturbed by your puny attempts at corruption—unlike before.”

“CORRUPTION? YOU CONSIDER LOVE AND CARE CORRUPTION?!”

“You indoctrinated him with your lies. You traumatized him, took everything away—his life, his community, his titles; now you return? Greeting him with open arms? Promising stability and reconciliation? That is simply a ruse, and I will not let him be tricked again.”

“He is my son, and I will not lose him again to a BEAST.”

“I am simply offering him peace, unlike you. You shan’t disturb him. Not under my watch. You will not leave.”

“I WILL NOT LET YOU STEAL HIM AWAY FROM ME! THAT IS FINAL!”

She was only a few feet away. He could attack.

He had to attack her. For his son.

She would take him if he didn’t end her first.

She wouldn’t leave.

Attack her.

Attack.

“You cannot even control your own emotions. Even something as simple as my incense will throw you off the rails,” She shakes her head, “You are not meant—”

ATTACKATTACKATTACKATTACKATTACKATTACK

He lunges forward, clawing at her face. She takes a step back.

Crumble… Crack…

The mountain was crumbling in on itself. Again.

HE WOULD NOT LET HER ESCAPE.

The monster swings his sword, she tries to seize it—but slices against her before she even gets the chance. A coppery smell joining the incense.

He slashes. She blocks.

Before Mystic Flour can counter, Cacao strikes at her soul jam. It falls off her head. She toddles back—falling out of the side of the mountain. 

He pounces out of the collapsing edge.

Falling down was a dizzying blur, but he did see something out of the corner of his eye.

The final golden piece. It was darkened, but still glowed.

He paws the part into his hands. Just in time for them to land in Peach Blossom’s garden.

He places his son’s body and the soul gem off to the side before turning towards the beast. Sneaking closer like a lion to his prey.

“YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW LONG I’VE WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT…”

Mystic Flour was on her knees now. She took her soul gem—

—And ran into the garden.

“YOU CANNOT ESCAPE ME!” He roars, the sound so loud it could’ve woken the dead.

The monster pounces, bursting towards the beast.

She veers, running in and out of trees. Cacao crashes into one, toppling over a few as he scampers.

Faster, FASTER, FASTER.

Mystic Flour sprints faster. The edge of the garden is getting closer, CLOSER.

She lurches at the end of the cliff, and a claw crushes her to the ground—a grunt coming from Mystic Flour. 

The monster rolls her over, seeing her face making him even more enraged as he pulls out his sword.

“YOU WILL NOT LEAVE!” Cacao bellows.

“Pathetic…”

The soothsayer punches her soul jam, a beam of light shining through the white gem–causing him to rear up and roar.

As it fades, and his eyes adjust; the monster looks at his claw.

Mystic Flour had disappeared. Nothing was left other than the shards of gem scattered about.

He huffs for a moment, still swaying from dizziness.

Painfully, the darkness withdrawals. The shadows retract, the dragons loosen their grip on the man—fleeing back into the sword.

Leaving something much, much smaller. A man of flesh and bone.

Cacao groans, his body burning in pain. The dragons had left, but the pain still stayed—the marks, too. Purple stains like blood everywhere. 

Too sore to move, too resolute to not try. His body throbs as Cacao tries to move from lying down to kneeling. He only gets halfway before laying back down.

A small croak comes from him, and then—

Not a mighty roar, but a sob .

He covers his face.

He couldn’t finish it off; he couldn’t protect his children. Again. Pathetic.

“Dark Cacao Cookie?” A familiar voice says, taking a step closer.

He turns his head. Peach Blossom Cookie was there. The older man walks over, picking the former up.

“Everything’s alright… you look terrible, though.”

“Thanks…”

“Go to bed, Cacao. Please…”

—

“Eat Cacao, I know you’re at least half conscious…” The gardeners voice sound fuzzy as he offers a piece of a peach up to his lips.

The king groans, “Mm…”

“Please. It’ll help heal you… if only a little.”

He eats the piece, “That is good…”

“I told you, silly…” Peach Blossom chuckles.

The fuzziness fades, and he rubs his eyes.

“What… happened?” 

“You… turned into a monster and knocked down a few trees.”

“I did?”

“Yeah… we cleaned up though. It took a bit of team work, but with Purple Yam, Milk Cookie, Caramel Arrow, and everyone else we were able to lift them up and get the trees in a pile.”

“Did I capture her?”

“No… I’m afraid not.”

“Though… you did have all the pieces of his soul gem,” He offers him the oval topaz, now completed. He takes it

The gardener continues, “I didn’t want to do anything reckless… so I left it for you to do it.”

Peach Blossom motions to his son, who is laying beside him.

Cacao shuffles towards Choco, holding him close. He gently places the gem on his head.

After a few moments, the color fades–and it breaks.

His son doesn’t wake. It worked, but he didn’t wake.

The father shakes his head, pushing the pieces of the gem away.

“No good, hm… we tried waking him while you were sleeping. It didn’t work either.”

“Mystic Flour… she… placed him under some curse or something along those lines.”

“I see…”

“Cloud Haetae said he’ll decide if he stays or goes with you in the morning.”

“Alright…”

“You should go back to bed… the sun set a couple of hours ago.”

“Wait—before you leave…”

“Yes?”

“Do… do you think my son will be alright?”

“He’ll be just fine. With you cradling him close like that, he’ll be safe and sound.”

“... Thank you. Goodnight, Peach Blossom Cookie. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. Goodnight, my friend.”

Cacao shuts his eyes, cradling his son tighter.

It would be a long journey home.

—

Dark Cacao stumbles inside Dark Choco’s room.

He hadn’t entered since his son’s banishment.

Everything was in its same place, the music box from his fifth birthday perched upon his dresser, the picture frame with his father on his nightstand—another one mentoring Crunchy Chip and Caramel Arrow to the left. Every surface was caked with dust.

The father places his son in his bed, looking at him felt like looking into that open casket back in Beast-Yeast. He turns and opens the window.

He stares at the snowflakes falling for a moment. Oh, how his young Choco loved to play in the snow. Making snow angels and snowmen alike. He would always give his snow-friends the silliest of names…

Cacao frowns, the heavy situation returning to his mind.

His son was in a coma, (or cursed into one), because of him; they wouldn’t be able to play, even if he wanted them to.

The father walks to his son’s closet, his son deserved clothes that belong to him. Opening the wardrobe, his robe’s and clothes were neatly hung and organized–as always. He turns to Choco’s purple robe, but something out of the corner of his eye makes him freeze mid-way.

The loose floorboards, underneath is the large box that looms like storm clouds beginning to cover the sun. When he recovered after his son being exiled, the king couldn’t bear to look at his son’s things. 

Thus, he packed them away in that large box—suppressing those memories.

Should he retrieve the box?

His mind began to play tug of war, one side begging to retrieve the box—the other retorting that he should care for his son first.

The latter, eventually, wins. Cacao quickly plucks the robe from its hanger; dressing his son. With the gentlest hands the father could muster, he tucks him in. Draping an extra blanket over him.

With a kiss on the forehead, Cacao turns back to the floorboards, taking them out and pulling out the box.

Opening the container felt like being transported back when life was good and fair. When his son was awake. Inside were many mementos. However, they were touched–moved. 

At the top of the pile however, was something that made the father’s stomach churn.

It was a letter with a slight bulge, it must have housed an object inside. Again, written with the fanciest cursive that only his son could muster. He holds it with shaking hands, his breath hitching.

Cacao carefully opens the letter, his hands sweating—tears already pricking his eyes before he could begin to read. He swallows the lump in his throat. The father knows he should put it down, there were dried tears at the end of the page. But he reads it anyway:

“My Dearest, Father,

It is currently almost the dead of night, and I can’t sleep. My mind is filled with memories of you. Both good, bad, and ugly. 

I don’t feel as if what I wrote in my first letter is adequate for what I want to say, yet it is already put away by my friends, (Purple Yam Cookie’s and Milk Cookie’s), care. I also feel as if this letter is too heavy—too filled with grief. I imagine you weeping at the sight of it, and I cannot bear it. 

Thus, I am going against my previous plan and having one of them hide this from you. So, if you do one day find it, you can read it. If you don’t then your ignorance shall be your bliss.

I don’t know when you're reading this letter or when you found it. Perhaps I have successfully killed Mystic Flour Cookie, and I’m home safe, or I’m long gone. Nonetheless, I must write this to you.

My father. I can see it in your eyes when I’m hiding in the crowds—the way you speak in fiery, determined speeches to the knights and people. You have never truly changed, and that’s a good thing. You are still compassionate and resolute, the same man that taught me how to become a warrior.

Despite my constant nightmares, I can rest easy knowing that the kingdom is in safe hands. That my father is in safe hands. Surrounded by knights and servants that care deeply about your wellbeing. 

No matter how hard I try, I know we are doomed to part. Like parallel trees that roots and branches that will never reach each other. I love you, I love you with all my heart —and I miss you. I cry at just the thought of when I was a child and was cradled in your arms. I yearn to be that young boy again, but I know I never will be.

I have become a monster. A monster forced to deal with his crimes for all eternity. Doomed to rot in hell once my time has been fully spent. I cannot bear seeing you again, about hurting you again. I am dangerous and unstable, a ticking time-bomb bound to explode one day. I have lost all hope to live, condemned to suffer every day of my disgusting existence. 

I love you as much as the sea loves the moon, and I forgive you. And maybe, in that land far, far away from here, I can learn to love myself as much as I love you. I hope that one day you can forgive me.

Please, do not weep for me or do anything rash, father. Continue your steadfast ways. If not for the kingdom, for me. You are truly the best and smartest man I’ve ever known. You taught me everything I know. I don’t want you to ruin yourself because of me.

I’ll see you again, one day,

Dark Choco Cookie.”

And inside the letter was… the wakizashi he was given when he became a knight.

A small whimper escapes his lips, tears streaming down his face. He covers his eyes with his hands as he drops the letter, his cries turning into inconsolable sobs.

The king sobbed himself to sleep that night; the loss heavier than the sky itself. 

His son was gone.

And he didn’t know if he would ever come back.

Chapter Text

It has been roughly one month, four days, and three hours since the incident—(yes, Dark Cacao Cookie was counting). Each day felt more excruciating than the last. 

A debt unpaid is not easily forgotten, the king knew that all too well. 

He was in debt to his son, oh, his son... He had been owed the gift of a loving home, a loving father since he was brought into this world—but never received his due. 

Choco reached to his father, to the heavens for some grace, but it never came.

Until now, if you can even consider it that…

After all that he has been through; all his trauma, all his hurt, he can finally rest. Not dead, but certainly not alive—in-between worlds.

A living person could move, talk, feel. A person in a coma could not. 

Yet, his son’s heart still beat, he breathed, he had to be bathed and went to the bathroom like any living man. Nonetheless, Choco could not live. He could not chatter with his brother, his old mentee, the knights and servants and citizens and everyone else who waited for the prince to awake from his slumber.

The thought made the father’s eyes water. Oh, his son deserved to chat, to play, to enjoy life—to live; he never received that liberty. 

Who was he? To deny the gift that he did not even get as a child?

Gifts and letters littered his son’s nightstand. From both people from this land and friends far away. Glancing at the desk made him think about when Pure Vanilla had visited. To both heal their wounds and to chat about the matter. He said that the changes that Mystic Flour brought were healable... at least, some of it. Time and medicine would most likely return his hair color. The scars and his eye color, however, would remain. Vanilla said if it brought any hope, nothing was set in clear yet.

The healer, too, had brought a woolen blanket; one that he made himself. He wrapped the prince in the warm covering, saying:

“ No child deserves to rest without their favorite blankie or stuffed-animal.”

Cacao thinks of that scene from time to time. He was right. His son, trapped in his own mind, did not deserve to rest without being tenderly cocooned in love and warmth. 

Did his son dream in his slumber? If so, what of? 

Warm breakfasts with his family? 

Being rocked to sleep by a lullaby from his father? Playing with his brother’s wolf? 

Guiding his old mentee? 

Chatting with knights?

 He could only wonder. Perhaps, when his son awoke, he’d ask.

Choco looked the most peaceful his father has ever seen him in his sleep. He hadn’t looked that way since he was a child. When the world was good and fair. 

A beam of light from the moon shines upon his face, like a strand of spider-web. He was covered in blankets, his breaths barely being visible under all of them.

Since he was in a coma, his body hasn’t changed since he had fallen asleep.

The king glances out the window, it was the earliest hours of the day, it seemed. The nights and days moved in a dizzying blur since his son had gone into that deep slumber; and in these dark hours, Cacao couldn’t sleep, so he sat beside his son, clutching his hand like a lifeline. Cloud Haetae snores on the other side of Choco’s bedside, out like a light.

When his son had passed out when he was ten, the father wept beside the bed, waiting for his son to eventually wake. He thought his son might die, and couldn’t bear leaving his side. Cacao fell asleep, and was only awoken by a feeble, “Appa…” from his son.

Now the father waited, again, for his son to call for him. Sleep calling for him like a sirens' song. The father kisses his son on the forehead.

“Goodnight, my son. If you need anything, I’ll be in my room. Don’t be afraid to come in.”

Cacao stands wearily, and stumbles out of the room; shutting the door behind him. Down one hall later, he reaches his bedroom. The father shuts the door and crawls under the covers.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he never did since his son fell into his curse. Cacao would wake from the tiniest sound, thinking it was his son—it never was: but the father awoke anyway, quickly sitting up as if he had a nightmare.

Cacao rolls over, cuddling a pillow in his arms. 

His son had to wake up eventually… maybe today or tomorrow he’d wake… and his son would return…

The father falls asleep.

***

Cacao opens his eyes again. He’s outside; in the garden to be specific.

His son sits on the same bench as he did when he was young. Holding a young star flower as the sun goes down the horizon for the single time that year.

“DARK CHOCO COOKIE!!” His father hollers, waving as he runs over.

His son glances at him, chuckling, “I’m not going anywhere… please, sit.”

“... Ah, right,” Cacao mumbles, sitting beside his son.

They sit in silence for a moment, Choco playing with the stem of the flower in his hands.

“... Don’t forget me, okay?”

“What?”

***

The father’s eyes flick open, he sits up and rubs his eyes. The dream still fuzzy yet clearer than day. He sweats, despite the fire being nothing but embers.

“Don’t forget me, okay?”

Cacao rises; rather informally, he leaves his cambers barefoot and only in a robe.

The father pads down the silent hallway, only illuminated by the dying lanterns.

He stops at Crunchy Chip Cookie’s room, the door was filled with scratches from the wolves he trained.

He hesitates, unsure if he should go back to his eldest’s. His younger son needs him just as much as oldest. His son was asleep, anyhow…

Cacao gently opens the door, peaking in.

Inside was Crunchy Chip, cuddled up against… his brother. Choco was staring out the window, running a hand through his brother’s hair.

Cacao lurches forward, waiting to sprint in to see his awake son—but stops. 

His son was probably still tired. He’d get frightened.

The father, rather, creeps into the room. 

The floorboards creak.

His son turns towards him, he goes silent for a moment before mumbling: “I needed to make sure my brother was okay…”

He nods, silently climbing in the bed and holding the two close.

“He’s okay because of you, my son… I’m so proud.”

Cacao smiles, Choco leans up against him. The latter runs his hands through his hair.

His younger brother stirs, humming awake.

“Appa?”

“Yes, my son?”

“Do I look like a monster…?”

“No, not at all,” He holds his son closer, “You look like my son. You were reshaped, changed… you had your memories stripped away from you— yet you still wanted to protect your brother. That doesn’t make you a monster, that makes you the strongest soul.”

“... Thank you.”

“Of course… Go to sleep, Choco. I’ll be here for you.”

He nods, and after a few blinks—he falls asleep. 

The door creaks open, and Cloud Haetae walks in.

“You could’ve told me you were having a slumber party before you came in here,” The mutt says, shutting the door.

“Sorry, I was going to check on my youngest since I couldn’t sleep… but yes, now it turned into a slumber party, I suppose. Is… anyone else coming?”

“No, far as I know at least.”

He plops on the bed, turning into his Haetae form, “You’re a good father, you know that?”

“I try my best… that’s all I can do.”

“That’s for certain…” Cloud Haetae chuckles, “That’s all I got to say. Night, King Cacao.”

“Goodnight.”

—

Cacao yawns as he opens his eyes, glancing around.

Cloud Haetae jumps on him, “CACAO! WAKE UP!”

“What…? It’s like… five thirty in the morning…”

“Actually it’s eleven, anyway—Dark—Light Choco—whatever is gone!”

“He is?” The king glances into his lap, and indeed, both his sons weren’t there.

“Crunchy Chip was trying to find him and—”

A scream comes from the infirmary; without another word, the father grabs his sword and runs.

Down a couple hallways later, they skid into the infirmary.

“ARROW, BE MY MEAT SHIELD!!”

“Crunchy Chip… that’s your brother.”

There Choco was, hanging on the while reaching for one of the cabinets; grabbing a jar of supplies. 

“This is the right one, right?”

A healer nods, “Yes, but this isn’t necessary…”

“What isn’t necessary is that these cabinets are so high! Someone’s going to fall one day and break their head open!” He says, shutting the cupboard and sliding down. The prince chuckles, handing the jar over to her, “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Prince Dark Choco.”

“Your welcome.”

The healer bows and walks away, and he turns to everyone else.

“Do you have any other superpowers do we need to know of?” His brother asks.

“Not really… just that.”

“How… how did you even get in this situation, might I ask?” Caramel Arrow says.

“Oh, well… after falling asleep I woke up again, and I wasn’t able to go back to sleep… So I went to eat breakfast, and then I was walking around, and I saw one of the healers reaching for a cabinet. I asked if she needed help, she said yes. So I climbed up the wall…”

“And your brother started screaming like a manic, and now we’re all here?”

“Seems like it…”

“... Well, you’re alive, and clearly not injured. That’s all that matters, my son.”

Choco hugs his father, and the latter picks him up.

“Father?”

“Yes?”

“Can we go outside?”

“Hm… yes, we can. I want you to wear something more appropriate for the weather though, I don’t want you all getting sick. Everyone go to the garden.”

“Yes!” Yam chuckles, running out while dragging Milk along.

She chuckles, “We’ll be outside…”

The father turns to his younger son, “You can go outside, Chip. You look fine.”

“No, I want to wait.”

“Alright, then. Follow me.”

The two walk into the eldest son’s room. He places Choco on the bed, Crunchy Chip sitting beside him.

Cacao gives the former a jacket, and turns to the other, “Do you think you need one?”

“No… I think I’m alright.”

His eldest stands, and so does himself. His youngest, however, stays sitting.

“Dad… can I talk to you? Alone?” Crunchy Chip asks.

The father agrees, “Yeah, of course. You can wait outside, Choco.”

He nods, and leaves. Cacao sits beside him, the bed creaking under the shared weight.

“You… you won’t forsake me now that brother is home… will you?”

“What? No, I… I would never! I…” He pauses for a moment, taking a breath to think, “I… I see where you’re coming from now. When… we were in Beast-Yeast. I thought I’d never see your brother again. That’s why I fought for valiantly for him. You… you think that I’ll forget you that now your brother is home, right?”

His son nods, his face scrunched like the night his eldest was banished. 

“I… I know it… it sounds selfish… but—”

“No, nononono. I… I never gave him enough love. Neither did I give enough love to you. I thought… that if I showed how sorry I was to Choco… he’d come back to me. That was… extremely selfish… I didn’t even think about how that affected you. I… I should’ve done more in the first place. I’m sorry, I should’ve raised you better… been better,” Cacao places a hand on Crunchy Chip’s shoulder, gently pulling him closer, “I love you both… I love you two so much, and I can’t bear loosing either of you. Please, tell me if I do that again; I want to get better–for the both of you.”
He sniffles, shaking his head.

“My son… you can cry. It’s okay.”

Crunchy Chip buries his head into his father’s shoulder, starting to sob. His father holds him close, rubbing his back.

“I’m here for you, Chip… I’m here…”

His son continues to weep, and they just sit there for a little. Holding each other.

Eventually, he stops crying, wiping his eyes.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay, good. You ready to play in the snow?”

“Yeah.”

Cacao rises, and offers his hands; his son takes them, standing up. The two walk out together.

Outside the room, Crunchy Chip’s wolf jumps up on him; making him chuckle and pet his companion.

Choco turns to his father, “Everything went well?”

“Just perfectly,” He smiles, “You both ready to go outside?”

The duo agree, and they start to make the walk outside. It doesn’t take too long until they're outside. Purple Yam and Milk Cookie are having a snowball fight, Cloud Haetae is in his animal form and just jumping around, and Caramel Arrow is sitting on a bench.

She turns towards them and stands, “Seems you’ve arrived!”

“We have.”

“Chip… Do you want to make a snowman? Like when we were younger?”

“Do I ever! C’mon, we’re going to make the best snowmen Crispia has ever seen!”

The two walk away, and Cacao watches them go.

“Do you want to play in the snow, Caramel Arrow?”

“Sure… but I haven’t really done it in a while. Only a few times I was younger… I usually focused on archery.”

“Lay with me, then. Make a snow angel.”

The king lays down on the snow, and the archer follows suit. They lay for a little before she mumbles:

“This is… kinda nice.”

“I agree; I could take a nap here.”

“I assume you didn’t sleep well last night, then?”

“I didn’t…” He answers, mentioning, “Sometimes… when I don’t want to do anything, or I’m just tired or want to think… I’ll just lay on the floor.”

“Really?” She quirks an eyebrow, turning her heads towards her sire.

“Really. Snow is one of the more… preferred surfaces. Everything else is very hard as a rock. The softness is worth it, even if I get all wet.”

“I assume, how long do you normally lay down for?”

“As long as a need.”

“Of course,” Arrow huffs, “What was the longest you lied down for?”

“A couple of hours. My back felt awful afterward…”

“A couple of hours? You must have a back of steel.”

“I wish I did… my body still gets sore like everyone else.”

“Huh. I thought that soul jam just vetoed all the pain from your body.”

“No… not really. I wish, tough. I wish.”

“That would be lovely. I would pay anything for one of those.”

“Me too.”

Crunchy Chip walks over his father, “We made a new friend! Do you want to see her?”

“Sure.”

Cacao stands, and glances at the snowman—or rather, snow-woman. It had a small star flower on it’s head.

“Her name is… hm. I don’t know yet,” Choco says, “What do you think, Chip?”

“Hm… Lily? Because that’s a type of flower?”

“Sure! Lily it is.”

Yam exclaims, “We made one, too,” he motions to his snowman–that has sticks that make angry eyebrows.

“Not bad… wait a minute. Where’s—”

Cloud Haetae’s head pops out of the snowman’s, causing snow to fly out.

“NOO!! JEREMY!!” The warrior falls to his knees, “NOT JEREMY!”

Milk laughs, taking a step back while the mutt flails in the snow, “Are you insane?! You almost suffocated me!!”

The king plucks him out of the snowman, putting him on the ground, “I think you got caught in the snow while they were making Jeremy.”

“Yeah… I was napping in the snow.”

“We can always make a Jeremy II…” The guardian suggests.

“Nooo… Jeremy… We need to make a funeral for him.”

“Are you this attached to a snowman?” The archer questions.

“YES! I AM!” Yam stands, “I challenge you, mutt to a snowball war! For Jeremy!!”

“A snowball… war? It’s a snowball fight.”

“I don’t care! I demand a fight at once!”

“Alrighty then…”

The king chuckles, walking to the garden to be safe from the snowballs. Also, it allowed equal pairs of two. His son’s paired up, Caramel Arrow and Cloud Haetae, and the final group was Milk and Yam.

It was rather fun to watch, yells and cheers coming from the fighters. Yam seemed to be getting hit the most, but he didn’t care. He just kept throwing (though his aim was not the best)...

An advisor walks outside, “Your Majesty?”

“Ah—yes?” Cacao stumbles up, bowing. The advisor bows back, “Is something the matter?”

“No we just were wondering where you were… Nothing really important is happening. I see that you’re playing referee?”

“I suppose I am. It was my older son’s idea to play outside. He… hasn’t been home in a while. I guess it’s a present.”

He says, “Prince Dark Choco has been through a lot.”

“Yes, he has. I’m overjoyed that he’s home safe once more.”

“We’ll be inside, Your Majesty. We’ll tell you if anything changes.”

“Thank you.”

The advisor leaves, and the king continues to observe the fight as it rages on. The archer throws a fast one at the mutt, making him fall over. Cacao can’t help but laugh.

—

The group walks over to the bench.

“You tired yourselves out?”

“Yeah…”

“Alright… everyone in. Get your blankets and pillows or what-have-you, my bedroom as a fireplace.”

Yam raises an eyebrow, “We’re having a mandatory slumber party? In the afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“Hm, fine. I could go for a nap…”

As they reach the beginning of a hallway, they disperse to get their bedding. The king goes into his room and starts the fire, adding wood to the hearth. He takes two blankets and a pillow from his bed.

The group starts to waddle in, setting up their blankets near the fireplace. First Choco and Crunchy Chip, then Cloud Haetae, Caramel Arrow, Milk Cookie, and finally Purple Yam.

As they all settle in, the warrior turns to his eldest, “Do you want your cape back?”

“No, like I said–it’s yours now. Thanks for asking, though.”

“Okay… it is good at keeping me warm.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

His two son’s sit beside him, huddling together for warmth. Everyone huddles around the fire. The wolf and the mutt lay side by side; while the archer, guardian, and warrior lie close to the fire.

“Do you mind if I lie down? My… uh… derrière is sore from all the sitting…” Cacao whispers, the two snicker.

“Yeah… it’s okay.”

The three lie down, starting to laugh but still trying to hold it in.

“Okay… that’s better. Thank you.”

Choco nods, “You’re welcome… derrière.”

The two boys start giggling again.

“You could’ve just said butt, Dad.” Crunchy Chip whispers.

“It’s not proper… It just came out naturally,” He chuckles, wrapping the duo closer to him, “Okay, okay… no more giggles. We didn’t sleep well last night, so this is our nap.”

“Okay… Okay… goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my sons. I love you both.”

“Love you too.”

“Love you.”

It goes silent.

His youngest snickers again, “Derrière…”

The two start laughing, and the father sighs.

“Oh… can it you two, it’s time for bed,” He banters, whisper speaking, “Because if you don’t… the big, scary king-man will get you!”

The pair giggle a little more before calming down.

“Okay… for real this time, Goodnight Dad.”

“Goodnight, giggle-monsters. I love you both.”

“Love you, too Dad.”

“Love you too!”