Chapter Text
As the scholar left his sight he pulled down the bandages covering his eyes. He opened his eyes, one gold the other a blue so light it contended with the very sky itself in beauty. A dark blue hue covered the top half of his eyes with a sharp fade into their natural colour, he is thankful for the bandage and its use of covering his eyes, mostly he is thankful that he did not have to exert any more energy into using his magic to hide them from the scholar.
He returned to the hut as swiftly as a cake hound chasing its prey.
As he entered the small hut the illusion magic covering his body fades away. It reveals the original colour of the petals on the top of his staff to be dark blue in colour, while the center of it seemed to almost explode out in a shade so dark a blue it could almost be mistaken for black.
Three white eyes rapidly grew in the center, one on the top left, one in the center and one on the bottom right. The one in the center which remains closed twitches slightly when the light from the sun hits the flowers center, while the stem became a black so dark the light around it seemed to almost bend into it, almost like a black hole would. His robes changed from that of a shepherd, dirty and ragged, to a deep midnight blue; elegant and long, dragging behind him but never quite touching down onto the floor enough to disturb the settled dust. Gold accents circle along the hem of his sleeves and the bottom of the cloak reflecting the light of the afternoon sun in all sorts of different hues of gold and yellow.
Deep midnight blue wings on his back fluff out, no longer restrained by the bindings of the bandages needed to keep them hidden. A few feathers tumble out, sleek and shiny with grease obviously not being very well maintained. Shuffling them aside he decides he’ll deal with the feathers later.
Quickly looking around he rushes up to the second floor, his feet barely touching the ground, never mind long enough to make much of a sound at all. As he enters the room he sets his staff aside leaning against the wall, right by the door to the room before he starts to search for something. Hurrying over to “his” bed on the opposite side of the room he starts feeling around for something on the other side of the bed, the one opposite to where he’s standing.
As he searches he leans on the bed with his right hand, his hair slightly falling in front of his face, slightly obscuring his vision even more than it already was, having to use the staff and all to even see colours and basic shapes. When he finally feels the chest stashed on the ground, he hurriedly pulls it up and into the bed, standing taller no longer leaning on the bed, he grabs its contents in his hand. Continuing to the door he grabs his staff before he then rushes back down to the main floor of the hut he slams the lid of the chest closed.
When he arrives he waves his left hand, the one holding the staff, and the illusion magic covering the floor lifts up revealing some runes that are etched into the floor. Hurrying to the center he taps the bottom of his staff down on them, the thud echoing in a manner he still wasn't quite used to causing him to wince slightly, a light illuminates from the largest rune, seeping into the smaller ones that are attached lighting the entire place up in a flash of light that surely would have left him blind had he not already been.
He inhales, closing his eyes and as he exhales slightly opening them, the runes activate completely smoke billowing out of them, sending the smoke pouring out of the hut from the cracks under the doors and through the windows. In a final flash of light and smoke he is gone and as the smoke dissipates the runes disappear as well, leaving no trace he is or ever was here except for the small “baaa” of a baby cream sheep in the doorway, having witnessed it all.
~~~~~
When the scholar continues up the peak, he reminisces on his time spent with Healer. He doesn't know what to think of the shepherd in all honesty, he was kind in giving him the cloak sure, but it doesn't excuse the fact that he hadn’t had a single care when he had a… what’s the word the towns folk use..? ..a … a… panic attack? A breakdown? Something like that at the revelation that the dust covering the bottom of the peak were the crumbled bodies of his fellow cookies.
Healer felt so.. cold. Now that he thinks back on it. Almost as if he just doesn't care what happens beyond himself and his sheep. He almost seemed like he lacked any sort of empathy, almost.
But he pushed on vowing to make it at least halfway up by night, who knows how cold it could get up here, a stronger wind than the one from earlier but still not nearly cold enough, nor strong enough to warrant the cloak from Healer blew through his hair, as if reassuring him of his endeavors.
So he continued, climbing higher and higher, when he felt like his legs could barely hold him any longer he decided to pause, sitting down he decided that taking a short rest would be the best course of action at this point in time he closed his eyes thinking of the town, the sounds, the noises, the sights, how he’d give anything for someone to have been able to come with him. But alas only he can possibly survive the journey and even then he isn’t so sure.
After a short while he opens his eyes once more, noting that he must have nodded off at some point as well. Wipping the sleep from his eyes he decides he’s had more than enough of a break.
Standing once more he thinks about leaving right away but before he finally leaves this area of the peak for good, officially leaving Healer and any chance of returning by nightfall he decides to look back behind him, just to see how far he’s come.
The first thing he notices is the mountain range in the distanc, ascending to only half the peak's height at its highest still far above him but nowhere near the towering high of the intimidating peak he stands on. And even though he has been climbing for witch knows how long he still hasn’t even reached its halfway point. The next thing he notices is the sky, more so its colours, the vibrant blues and light purples swirling together to form a beautiful evening sky. Bluebirds and raisin birds flying home after the winter season came and went.
Looking far below him he realizes just how small the village is, the lights from the town barely even visible from up here. He wonders how the academy is doing without his support, probably well if his assistant is who is currently running it. The large building stands proud, his biggest accomplishment. Sighing he looks to the evening sky once more basking in its beauty.
Wait, evening? The scholar just realizes how late it's becoming, worried he won’t make it to even halfway before nightfall hits. He turns away from the scenery and starts rushing once more to make it to.. somewhere, probably a cave or…. something on the side of the peak. He quickly starts to realize he hadn’t thought this far ahead in his schedule he supposes. He had expected the journey to take quite a long time, sure, but he has magic, surely it won’t take that long… right?
A grumble in his stomach reminded him of the pastries he would eat while grading students' homework. Reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything yet today.
Sure he may be immortal, but even so he can’t go more than a couple weeks without some form of sustenance, whether that be food or water, he needs something to keep his body going. He remembered the last time he hadn’t eaten anything for weeks, when he was still the…who was he again?
He knows he hadn’t been what he is now, not the scholar he is beloved for. It wasn’t when he had been the Fount that he knew. For when he was the Fount he needed nothing.
There was a sizable gap in his memory, but what he remembers wasn't pleasant at all, especially the spells of dizziness that would overtake his vision constantly causing him to stumble, the constant shaking and slight tremble in his hands barely even being able to hold a quill. The mysterious figure that had come and laid him on his bed, slipping a bowl of stew into his shaking hands, he never got the chance to thank them, not even their name. He was ashamed to say none the less. Shivering he pushed the memory to the back of his mind dwelling on it now would only cause him panic and confusion. Maybe later he could try to figure it out but not right now.
He tries to recall if he had eaten anything the night before, but to no fault of his own, he hadn’t. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been so excited to prepare for the trip he had forgotten to eat. These things tended to slip his mind, rather often if you were to ask the townsfolk, but he would never admit it to himself. He never really did completely rid himself of his habits as the Fount despite what he might claim, but he was working on it.
By the time night fell he had barely made it a quarter up the mountain. Pulling himself up and over the ledge he spotted the large mouth of a cave as it curved inward, scrambling towards it on weak legs he stood in the opening noting how sharply it curved in, barely leaving enough space for him to stand back to back with another cookie.
Gasping for breath he put his hand on the wall of the cave nearly doubling over. Sharply hissing through his teeth he pulled his arm back, shocked at the sheer sub-zero temperatures on the wall. He hadn't been expecting it as he had thought he was at a much lower altitude then he seemed to actually reside at.
Looking up he mentally noted that from the walls up to the top of the cave seemed to be mostly made of rock. Thankfully the floor of the cave was still mostly grass even though it may be dry it was at least not as shockingly cold as the walls of the cave.
Entering the cave he noticed how far back it truly went, the curves and angles of the walls having obscured most of his view of the back from the mouth of it, but it still went fairly far back, definitely at least a couple hundred meters back. He hoped no other creatures had made their residence here. Although he did hope it would be long enough keep the cold out, the sub-zero temperatures could be even more deadly than even a wild cake hound, more so he hoped it would stay warm as there was no way he was going to start a fire, the smoke would most definitely choke him out and the fire would spread along the dry grass, potentially even blocking his exit.
Deciding not to risk making a fire he started into the darkness.
This would have to do.
~~~~~
As he sat down, as far back as he was comfortable going, as there was no way in the witch's oven would he ever go far into the cave enough where he couldn't even see the exit. As he sits down he pulls out one of the many, many tomes on the behaviours and capabilities of cake hounds from his other realm, the eyes stare at him judging his every move.
Sighing he opens the tome to the page he has marked, pieces of papers filled with notes cover the page, the words neat and compact. A few of the notes detail the dietary options of blueberry cake hounds, their appearances and even where they can be found.
Another few notes detail the dietary options of vanilla cake hounds, it can be dutifully noted that a lot less has been written on them. He grabs a pen from his other realm before closing it, and begins writing even more notes on the very little info surrounding the potentially extinct species. He writes for a long while, he supposes he should get some rest when the pen slips from his fingers a third time, and his words blur together, his neat and pristine writing starting to look sloppy.
He returns the book to his other realm, feeling somewhat satisfied when a small breeze blows into the cave, sending a shiver down the scholar's spine. The scholar pulls out the cloak Healer made him, wrapping himself in it, as a sort of blanket. And as he starts to nod off he wonders how everyone in town back at the base of the peak is doing, he hopes they are doing well. And when he finally drifts off, he dreams, dreams of a kind face, cream sheep and undeniable dread at what is to come.
~~~~~
That is where his memory starts to go blurry, he knows something went wrong when he was out, but he still hasn't exactly found out what. Maybe the “trials” as that… cookie had called them took much more of a toll on him then he thought, but he might as well continue to try to understand why he did what he did and so he continues to try and recall what went wrong.
~~~~~
When he wakes up, he notes that there's a cookie sitting in the mouth of the cave, or maybe a cake hound? He isn't entirely sure but is definitely put on edge. Quickly and quietly he unwraps himself from the cloak and shoves it into his other realm. Slowly making his way towards the… thing, whatever it is, in the mouth of the cave.
As he approaches he must have made some sort of noise as the thing stands, all the scholar can glimpse is the flash of the striking blue and yellow colour of its eyes.
“Wait!” He calls out, abandoning the notion to be silent. Running out into the open he notes how there is literally no one else there. But he does notice the prints in the… snow? It snowed. Great, he is unprepared and definitely going to catch a cold now. That is until he remembered about the cloak, having forgotten about it somehow.
He removes it from his other realm once more, putting it on he notes just how warm and comfortable it is. Boy is he glad Healer gave it to him.
He sighs before bending down to check out the prints in the snow, double checking they aren't cake hound prints before following them.
As he follows the tracks in the snow he notices he’s going higher up the peak, weirdly enough he couldn’t hear a single thing other than the shuffle of his feet on the ground and the whistle of the wind blowing around him. It was disturbing, that's for sure.
But he must find out who it was that he saw, so he persists.
As it reaches midday he finally comes to the end of the tracks, the problem is that they just end. He has no clue how far he has come and because of the wind blowing the snow over top of his steps he can’t even retrace his steps back to the cave.