Chapter Text
It dawns on Pure Vanilla that he might be high. At least in the sense of an endless euphoria that has clung to his dough since his last visit with Shadow Milk Cookie.
Perhaps the better term is ‘glowing', Or simply content in a way he's never felt before.
Regardless the entire week after his trist in the woods has Pure Vanilla floating on clouds of giddy bliss.
So of course it's got to be ruined by reality and moral obligations and White Lily Cookie.
They haven't really talked since the healing incident, Pure Vanilla doing his best to pop out of sight as soon as he hears her seeking voice.
It's clearly not for her lack of trying, but they might…fight, and she might yank his collar aside and if she sees the new marks-
Pure Vanilla cannot let her see all the new lovely marks that have turned the dough of his throat into a tender dark mess.
Especially when he's quickly developing a habit of reopening the wound to taste himself anew.
So he simply hides and she seeks and the world is stagnant for that one blissful week.
The ruining happens close to dusk, when the faire lights have begun to flicker on and chase away the birthing shadows as best they can.
Pure Vanilla had been feeling pretty proud of himself, ready to go back to his room to whisper to the looming wall of darkness near his bed when he'd rounded a corner and caught the crumbs of a conversation in a nearby room.
“-quite right with him lately. I tried to heal him and he smacked me away, I fear it might be the work of the Beast cookies.”
That's White Lily Cookie’s voice, her usual lilt is hardened with concern.
“I saw.”
Those two words send a shiver of fear clawing up the sages back. His hands reflexively gripping his staff tighter till the jam drains from his fingers and they tingle in static warning.
“I saw him with Shadow Milk Cookie, Out in the willows-”
No
No no no no no
Air sucks in sharply, an explosion of noise in the otherwise still hallway.
It makes White Lily Cookie stop and brings an acute awareness to the situation Pure Vanilla is currently in.
At the very least he still has the sense to scramble backwards, to turn and flee before the door can open and he's forced to see her EYES, her judgement. Her pity.
Phantom eyes of disgust chase Pure Vanilla further and further from the scene. His feet only slowing when his heart gives a painful little lurch from the sudden burst in exercise.
God's above and below he's out of shape….
With a weak little puff Pure Vanilla soaks in his new surroundings, having simply run the throat of the corridor until it spat him out… here.
Exhausted eyes note the doors to the great library not too far off and a small green cookie bouncing just next to them.
She seems eager, like she's waiting for something. All the more evident when her sparkling eyes focus on Pure Vanilla's winded form and she all but leaps at him.
“Excuse me!”
Her little voice is high and cheerful, she sort of reminds Pure Vanilla of a cake hound.
It makes him smile, even if it's still hard to breathe and he tries to reply, “ah, hello little one. What can I help you with?”
It comes out a bit raspy but the girl doesn't appear to notice. Instead her expression turns business like and from seemingly thin air she produces a scroll, offering it out like a prize.
“White Lily Cookie asked me to translate this scroll for her but I can't seem to find her anywhere,” the child's cheeks puff with indignation.
The unspoken question is obvious, ‘you're her best friend, can you get it to her?’
Pure Vanilla takes the scroll with a practically numb hand, not having had the chance to shake out the tingles.
“Oh uh, thank you! Can I ask what the scroll is about?”
He wants to burn it, to be childish and rip it to shreds but it could be important. Could be about the Beasts-
If possible the child looks entirely too smug, a sort of triumphant air coming off of her in waves as she declares “it's about the spire of knowledge! They say it's where all the most secret and important information in all of earthbread is held.
“They say,” the girl's voice is so light, too casual, “it was built by the scholar who held the virtue of knowledge, before he became corrupted.”
It takes a shocking amount of strength not to crush the scroll with his surprise. With the sudden flash of heat and happiness and delirium that all bark in his brain like rabid hounds.
“The um, ah,” Pure Vanilla's tongue drags rough and heavy over the roof of his mouth, desperate for relief. He finds nothing and can only wheeze quietly, “and it's here on Beast Yeast?”
The thought that White Lily cookie came so close to getting this information is terrifying. Clearly a place where all knowledge is held would have the binding spell to seal the beasts back up.
It would rip Shadow Milk cookie right from the sage's needy grasp and that thought alone is unfathomable.
If the little fairy cookie thinks his questions are strange, she does a very good job of not showing it. Instead she simply nods, waving a hand off in a random direction.
“Oh yeah, it's really not too far from here actually. I was gonna offer to guide White Lily cookie there-”
A sharp peel of laughter drowns out the rest of the girl's sentence, Pure Vanilla's shoulders shaking with the noise to hide the way he'd almost lashed out and shook the girl instead.
“As the sage of truth, I think I should be the one to take a look actually. I know White Lily has so much on her plate as the new guardian since she fell into the roll so quickly, it's no trouble at all.”
He doesn't mean to subtly bring up Elder Faire cookies death, it feels too nasty but he plows on nonetheless. “Would you mind escorting me there? We can head out first thing in the morning, bright and early.”
Perhaps Pure Vanilla should have been looking closer at the gleam in the smaller cookies' eyes. The way the green of her apple ornaments shimmers red in just the wrong light.
Instead he sees nothing but a fanged smile and pretty silver-blue hair and wonders if just maybe Shadow Milk cookie will be waiting for him.
Surely he has to be there right?
Little hands clap, effectively startling Pure Vanilla away from thoughts of blue within blue eyes. “That's so nice of you, Pure Vanilla cookie! I'll meet you right here super duper early okay? Just leave it to Apple Faire Cookie!”
It takes an embarrassingly long moment for Pure Vanilla to realize that she's talking about herself and that he definitely didn't ask for her name.
He subtly paws strands Of hair over ears burning with shame and tries to offer back a smile to match Apple Faire's.
“Thank you, Apple Faire Cookie, I'll see you in the morning.”
With far more grace than his arrival, the sage of truth skitters back down the winding halls in a different direction.
There's no way he can backtrack, so he takes a far more complicated route, his form illuminated by the barest of glittery flames.
It's well and truly night now, the interior of his room is a pit of darkness as he hurries inside and barricades the door.
Perhaps it's a touch too paranoid, but with White Lily cookie one couldn't take any chances.
That thought alone soothes some of the guilt away as Pure Vanilla draws more and more complex locking runes across his door in his own jam.
It's all for a good cause, it's all so he can show them that Shadow Milk cookie isn't such a threat that he needs to be sealed away forever.
As if summoned, phantom heat tickles at the base of the sage's spine, sending little sparks of pleasure spiraling along it.
“Oh,” It's a sigh of warmth, of gratitude, and only a sliver of disappointment that his Jester isn't floating behind him when he turns around.
Instead the shadows swell with weight and depth, little eyes peeking from between the folds of curtains and the sharp angles of the walls.
They're as much a comfort as the faint heat and Pure Vanilla finds himself slowing down with the remainder of his routine.
His movements are languid, voice a hum of delight in the stillness of the threshold to the dark side of the moon.
“I'm coming to see you,” Pure Vanilla figures Shadow Milk cookie already knows. But he enjoys the way the eyes brighten and crinkle in joy as if it's their first time hearing this.
Fingers idly pluck apart a heavy cloak, carefully laying down both the orchid staff and hat just when the ghost of fingers tug at the edges of his curls.
It feels affectionate and a surge of joy makes Pure Vanilla's soul jam positively sing.
“The girl at the library said you might have something there that can seal you back up. So…” teeth worry a lower lip, “we need to hide it or, or get rid of it perhaps.”
Destroying history feels vile, it stains a part of Pure Vanilla that he's not sure he can reach right now.
But it's worth it.
He tells himself this as the fingers become a bit more tangible, carding through his hair with a lover's touch.
It's going to be worth it.
It has to be.