Chapter Text
The expeditions weren't the worst thing in the world. The Golden Cheese Kingdom was beautiful, after all, and it was nice to put it to memory. Olive’s rambling had been grating at first, but steadily she had grown on him, until he one day found himself looking forward to wandering about with their little team.
As such, Burning Spice decided not to dwell on his moment of panic when he arrived at the meeting spot, only to find his usual companions nowhere to be found. Golden Cheese herself stood in their place, looking up from where she sat preening her wings as he approached. She did not rise immediately, still sitting cross legged in the sand as she sorted her feathers.
“Where-” Burning Spice cleared his throat, tearing the worry from his tone before starting again. “Where are the usual two?”
“They're running correspondence for me about guests we’ll be receiving soon.” She responded, fussing with another feather. “Besides, there's something else we're doing today. I promised I’d show you the gallery, didn't I?”
Though he felt a tug at the idea of missing a day with his new friends, Burning Spice turned to his excitement at the break in routine. “Right, the gallery! You said the paintings really lasted thousands of years?”
“Of course they did. I always preserve my treasures.” Golden Cheese finally stood, stretching her arms above her head before nodding towards the main pyramid. “This way.”
The gallery was impressive, paintings adorned with elaborate frames and woven tapestries spelling tales of valor, statues carved of gold and hand-sewn garments on display- all lovingly preserved in the fanciful room.
“Woah.” Though the riches glittered nicely, Burning Spice found himself most taken with the age of the techniques. Perhaps it was his own affection for the arts that leant him the ability to date some of the paintings by brush stroke alone, or maybe it was conjecture. Either way, he was impressed by the longevity of the artifacts.
“Beautiful, isn't it? After everything fell apart in the war, the gallery was the only room completely untouched. It's lucky, I think.” Golden Cheese smiled as she delicately thumbed one of the silken dresses. “As long as it's here, nothing will be forgotten.”
Burning Spice barely heard her, browsing from one artwork to the next. Tapestries of heroic battles and tragic romances displayed next to paintings of daily life and the beautifully mundane, each one grabbed his attention with fervor.
Golden Cheese watched him with a raised brow and a fond smile creeping upon her lips. He really meant it when he said he enjoyed the arts, as it seemed.
“You're like a kid in a candy shop.” She teased, approaching him as he observed the fine sculpting of one of the statues. “I’ve never seen you this excited.”
“This technique fell out of use almost ten-thousand years ago, did you know that?” He pointed at various locations on the statue. “In most cases, not even gold can hold up that long. How is it still intact?”
“That statue is one of the ones that have been here the longest.” Golden Cheese offered. “It was one of the first ones I moved to the gallery.”
“Chemically, this shouldn't still be here.” Despite the suspicious notion, Burning Spice only sounded excited. “It's incredible!”
Bouncing on his heels in excitement, one wrong step backwards was all Burning Spice needed to lose his balance. In the moment of panic that he was falling, Burning Spice tossed himself to the side to avoid the painting behind him at the cost of crashing into the wall instead- or rather, crashing through the wall.
It was too sudden to feel logical, but the bricks that hit his chest transported him elsewhere in an instant, first the sensation of being crushed, then the panic. ‘Not like this’ was all that ran through his mind. The sentiment felt familiar, like deja vu, but his racing heart and ringing ears drowned out everything else. The terror was suffocating, he couldn't see. He couldn't move. He could barely even breathe. For all the time he spent waiting to be released, he was still gripped with fear at the thought of dying here- alone, everyone cast aside in a futile pursuit, crushed by his own hubris.
And then there was warmth. Barely noticeable against the sea of ice cold panic, but it was there. It was warm, it wrapped around him and it was soft when it tickled his face. A sensation he didn't know was missing returned to him, something wet running down his cheeks. The lump in his throat hurt when he pushed out a hoarse, foreign sound, and the warmth tightened around him comfortably. The ringing in his ears had died down- maybe it was never there at all. He could hear his own voice, but he wasn't sure what he was saying. The clawing darkness vanished when he finally opened his eyes. His heart was still pounding, but he could finally breathe.
He was no longer beneath the rubble of the devastated temple, back in the gallery as if he had never left. His chest still ached, but amidst his blurry vision he found the culprit to be a stray cluster of bricks from when he had crashed through the wall.
When his chest settled and his limbs released their tension, the warmth on his chest lifted, and Golden Cheese appeared in his view. She frowned with concern and sympathy, lit from behind like an angel.
“Are you with me now?” She asked, as much gentleness in her tone as she could muster.
Burning Spice opened his mouth to answer, but no sound left him. He settled for a weak nod instead.
“That looked like it hurt.” It wasn't lost on him that she was floundering for something to say. “It looked like it… More than hurt, actually.”
When he finally sat up, Burning Spice could first feel the cold wetness on his face. He carefully reached for the tear- his limbs all ached and it felt difficult to move.
“… I didn't know the collapse affected you that much.” Golden Cheese looked sad when he met her eye.
“You didn't know you'd ever worry about it again.” His voice was hoarse and dry, and his whole body felt heavy and exhausted.
“Are you alright now?” She hesitantly wiped his other cheek, and Burning Spice didn't mention the way his heart rate picked up again.
“Mm. Tired.” He leaned into her hand as it lingered on his cheek, pressing into her palm as if he could memorize her touch.
The sound of a mechanical whir tore them from the moment, finally bringing the pair to acknowledge their surroundings. Behind the now crumbled wall was a small, dim room, a softly glowing machine sitting in its center.
“What's this place for? It was all sealed up.” Burning Spice opted to change the subject, the sound of his own heartbeat overwhelming him for a new reason.
“I don't know.” Golden Cheese answered simply.
“What do you mean you don't know? This is your kingdom!”
“It wasn't always mine. I was a treasure hunter when I was young. It had already been abandoned when I found it, anyway, so I took it for myself.” She shrugged. “I guess it shouldn't be that surprising there are rooms here even I don't know about.”
Burning Spice approached the machine cautiously. “The mechanism is connected to the gallery.” He observed. “It looks like…”
Golden Cheese blinked. “Do you know what this thing is?”
“I’ve never seen the thing put together, but a long time ago, during the virtue era, Milk had shown me a blueprint that looked like this. He never ended up making the machine himself, but he talked about it a lot. It was supposed to pause time in a small area.”
“I guess that explains why everything in the gallery is intact. But if he never made the machine, how is it here?”
“Mm, I was getting to that. After the fall, a group of his former students broke into the spire and stole a ton of his work. He complained about it to the rest of us for months.” Burning Spice recalled. “The blueprint was probably one of them- it must have gotten sold off at some point and ended up here.”
“Well, I guess it really is a small world. How interesting.” A part of Golden Cheese wanted to investigate further, but she saw the taxing exhaustion in the former beast beside her and decided to save it for another day.
“Let's head back.” She began to lead him out of the small room, careful of the bricks still lying on the ground. Before they had exited the gallery, however, Burning Spice stopped in his tracks.
“Hold on- There's something I wanted to do before we go.” He held up the sketch pad he brought with him, grinning at her confused expression. “Can I draw you?”
Golden Cheese was surprised as she looked over the finished sketch, not expecting the depiction to be so… flattering. A part of her still believed he hated her, but it was becoming harder to reconcile that notion with the angelic drawing of herself in her hands.
Wordlessly, she had walked the drawing to a spare frame, and hung it on the wall near the door.
Art should always be preserved- Golden Cheese had lived by this notion. If this room, this gallery, is truly a snapshot in time, then she felt she should do whatever she can to preserve everything in it. They were her treasures, after all, from the grandest sculpture down to the smallest sketch.