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it was a peaceful evening.
he was tired—understandably so—having worked all day, running around his spire, desperately trying not to trip over his bunnies, was harder than he anticipated. The headache, from the air and the noise, it all subsided when he finally got to his throne, a cookie kneeled right below his throne , nervously fidgeting with his hand as he peeked through his hair to stare up at him before lowering it once more.
he smoothed his robes, making sure he was as presentable as a virtue should be. The room was luxurious, polished floors, tapestries of his achievements,a good balance of blue’s and purple’s. A complete difference from his castle, the pristine rays of the moon’s glow luminate the room, kissing his skin gently as it leaves him with and angelic hue
founts gentle yet delicate hand caress his staff with the usual feel of recognition, then proceeding towards his long star kissed hair,brushing his bangs to the side to look down upon the cookie that seemed his presence.
“ you may speak”. He ushers gently, a warm practised smile on his face
“Oh, fount of knowledge , please grace us with your wisdom and knowledge, we seek answers for our over consuming questions” a cookie of adult age, peeks through the mess of his hair to catch a glimpse of his eminence’s soft pristine skin, and gorgeous yet blinding smile.
“ sweet child, don’t let trivial questions make a fool out of yourself, I’m all ears, what question keeps you up at night?” The fount answers, voice so soothing to the ear, that it felt like it was more of a whisper than an actual steady voice.
“ my dear fount, what I seek is the answer on why cookies were brought to life, why have the witches given us life , what’s our purpose?” The cookie asks in a frenetic manner.
“…why it’s to make us happy, to give us a chance at life and so our doughs remain crispy as we prosper “ fount answers , almost desperately hoping it would satisfy the cookie.
“ fount , forgive me but I do not believe that, I over heard a rumour, a rumour so vile and nauseating that it’s almost impossible to believe! And yet it makes sense..” the cookie says, a look of pure horror engraved on his face.
“ my dear child, what rumour made you so frightened? Please relay it to me to hear” fount sits up , almost hoping it wasn’t what he knew it would be.
“ oh fount of knowledge, is it true that the witches baked us for their consumption?” He asks, pleading the answer would be a confirmation.
“ I-i well, my dear , who told you such a thing, where have you heard that “ fount asks , almost breaking character
“ my fount, please answer my question, is it true?” The cookie persists, not backing down until his question earns its answer.
“ I’m sorry, that knowledge is beyond my own ability, only the witches have such power, and soo I can not give you a satisfactory response “ fount explains, hoping the cookie will back down with this response.
“ why are you the fount of knowledge if you can’t provide us with such a simple answer! “ the cookie exclaims in frustration .
“ oh fount! You don’t know anything do you! You’re not a real fount of knowledge, you’re a phoney!!” He yells in frustration, drawing in unnecessary attention.
“ please do not yell within my spire , if my answer is unsatisfactory then please ask another, you , yourself should know I am indeed fount of knowledge, if believing such a deceitful rumour is more satisfactory then my response then who am I to correct you “ fount retaliates in annoyance.
The cookie looks at him for a few minutes before turning around and walking away, his previous frustration remained , seemingly growing with every step the cookie took, fount couldn’t help the growing feeling of paranoia, eating away at his veins towards his heart. He places a delicate gentle hand above the staff within his had, placing it above his soul jam, seeking comfort at the encounter that had left him so paranoid.
The rest of the evening went by quite well, all to the extent he forgot all about the uncomfortable encounter he had experienced just a while ago. Most cookies asked simple questions while others asked things that had nothing to due with him and his knowledge. Like how would he know what a cookie had for breakfast this morning? Questions like those left him with an overwhelming headache all until the end of his last visit.
things moved by quite well , his bunnies assisted with cleaning up everything , and his blueberry cream sheep kept him company while he read through the lists of questions some cookies left him. Everything was well until it wasn’t .
Voices echoed outside his spire, voices engraved with burning hatred and deceitful words and laughter echoed through his corridors, gracefully emerging, he walked towards the doors his bunnies were peeking through, there he saw something he never wished to witness. The outside of his spire of knowledge was a mess , a crowd of cookies stood right below it , all yelling about a public execution, right by the middle was the very same cookie that had left his spire in anger.
Fear, for the first time since the day he was baked fount felt fear seeping through his dough , not at the fact the cookies he once held dear we’re calling out to his demise but at the fact a minor rumour led to all this, one word rumour was enough to have each and every cookie seeking his downfall. As the cookies chained him and dragged his dough to an already set up guillotine , a guillotine he had no idea about, as the position him towards the nook of the guillotine his eyes remain locked on to the same cookie that had worded his frustration that evening.
“ soo .. notice how these idiotic cookies believe is the smallest of rumours, deceit can be a conniving endeavour, huh? “ a voice he had only heard
“ one deceitful rumour , was all it took for all you’ve worked so hard to protect to come trampling upon you. Not to mention it was all nothing but pure truth”. The light of deceit chuckles.
“shut up you insolent fool.. don’t you think I know that, who else has the patience to put up with these insolent fools .” Fount retaliates , voice still light as a feather , making sure non-of the cookies heard him speak.
“ now now, relax oh great and powerful fount of knowledge, don’t you believe that feeding into their febrile minds would make them realise that maybe deceit is better than the cold blooded truth?” light of deceit whispers in his ear.
“ you won’t have to slave yourself on that pedestal they placed you on~, after all once you give into deceit , anything you say would be a truth to these fools~” light of deceit cunningly says.
“He he…ha ha ha…oh yes, that’s right…gods..cookies..broken, skewed, all of them..for once your uselessness has a purpose, I abandon this mantle of fount of knowledge!” ??? says , voice clear, abandoning that once useless use of gentleness it held when speaking to cookie kind.
“ fine let this guillotine fall upon me, because fount is no more, from now one , I shall be known as shadow milk cookie! . When the foolish witches look at the world of their creation, perfected by yours truly..they’ll cry tears of pure astonishment at my work!!” shadow milk exclaims is pure bliss, once gentle voice completely abandoned.
“ he heh…Good, very good! That’s our wonderful beast of deceit! ” light of deceit chuckles in pride.
“Oh, but you, on the other hand! I’d prefer you remain silent, your voice is annoying, no offence of course!.” Shadow milk giggles at the look the snake form of deceit stared at him with, his very words had silenced the one who corrupted him.
“Well my pal! Light of deceit! Come on! Don’t look at me like that! You had it coming! There can only be one star on this show!! And that star is me!” A conniving smile blooms on his face as he returns back to reality, a minute passed before the sound of cut rope echoed through the area.
If he shall die as fount then these abominations of cookies better be grateful to their new star, the world’s best playwright! shadow milk cookie
——-
Jointing back to reality, pain explodes throughout his body, looking around his current environment, a sense of remembrance rushes through his head.
That’s right…silent salt cookie had betrayed them , deceived them beyond any reasonable expectation and ruined their lives, heh.. it’s funny in a way.
Powerful beasts get betrayed by an ally who they thought understood them.
And what did that lead too? The end of the beast and a broken soul jam , which’s shattered fragments dug into his dough, piercing through his dough some going in further.
“Dammit , dammit all,” he exclaims in pain, he tries desperately to pick himself up, to at least check on the life of his comrades, but each movement felt like hell on earthbread.
ha! Who was he kidding!? This was worse than hell!.
Sneering, he desperately tries to push away the pain, his hand instinctively reaching out to burning spice’s own. He felt and felt but the dough still remained lifeless
Truth is, he was hoping for him to joint back up and swat his hand away in disgust, yet nothing, None of that happened, instead he remained on his knees, head bowed and breathless.
“Shit, I don’t have time…by the witches it hurts.. I hate this feeling of vulnerability” he mummers to himself.
How Annoying.
He raises his one unoccupied hand, placing it on the shattered remains of his soul jam and almost instantly, an unforgiving sheer amount of pain rushes through his dough.
“ shit! Ugh!!.” He hisses out, urgently removing his hand from the area.
He rapidly blinks away the tears that threatened to spill from his eye-cings, he couldn’t afford to cry at this situation, not when the ancients are still stood nearby .
He would rather crumble than be seen as weak and vulnerable, but the pain was unrelenting
Letting go of burning spice’s hand , he tried to master up the remaining strength he had to escape as silently as he could.
Minions…where were his minions, it would’ve been better to have them around to assist with this problem.
yet they’re nowhere to be seen.
As he moved, silently and in slow gentle fashion he saw a rather pleasant sight, white lily crumbling away.
Perfect.
With the ancients distracted, moving should be easy, though his strength was replenishing with every moment he spent there.
His ability to float was deteriorating by the minutes that passed, soon his feet began to scrape upon the ruins of the battlefield and finally his face came in contact with the earths green burnt grounds.
The contact of his soul jam connecting with the earths was the final straw, the last thing he heard was an echo of his voice, echoing throughout the forest he was in, loud enough to draw in attention.
An uninvited presence made its self known, all he could see with his blurred vision was the undeniable silhouette of the ancient that barred his other half.
“Don’t…seal..me…away” he gasps out as his vision blackened.
please