Chapter Text
Elder Faerie POV: (sorry y'all no more ssc pov for now- Idk how to write it)
I feel the sharp, cold pain overpower me.
The agony is excruciating, blinding.
Unforgiving silver sinks deep into the membrane of the wings on my back, the pain echoing through my body.
Piercing, awful, powerful, and almost-‘holy’ silver…
Oh Witches. No. No. No- Not now. Not this.
A strangled cry involuntarily leaves my throat.
.
.
.
This Fount-looking amalgamation… was able to turn the blessed forks against us.
I hear a startled Grunt come from just below me.
This- this cannot be the end-! I refuse to allow Earthbread to have to endure such tragedy once more. The ritual was supposed to be the end of that suffering, it was supposed to be the beginning of an era of peace! Of solidarity-!
I will myself to move. I use every last bit of my strength I can spare. Yet- No use, the attempt only results in an excruciating tear through my left wing. I grit my teeth in an attempt to distract myself from the pain. I look around to try and spot the Salt of Solidarity, or *ahem*Silent Salt. Maybe-just maybe he was free,maybe he avoided the forks... maybe. For the only chance at peace for Cookiekind I can only hope-
…And that hope was a delusion. I silently whisper a prayer to our creators beneath my breath as I see the struggling virtue. There will be no easy way out of this.
Today… is not going well, to say the least. I have a sinking feeling in my bones that today won't end particularly well either…
Salt is actively fighting to escape the fork pinning him to the ground. Thankfully, his dough did not get pierced, instead he only had a holy fork using his cape to keep him trapped on the ground. Unfortunately…It was still doing a splendid job in keeping him down. He grunted and fought for his life to get out of the hold of the now-forsaken forks. I attempted to slightly push the fork holding me to the tree away… unfortunately my efforts ,and his, were for naught. This fork is firmly placed in the tree, and any chance of using magic to escape was extinguished by the sheer amount of dark moon magic, pure souljam, and just-power radiating off of anything related to the fount-looking clown above us.
How did a cookie even get their hands on such abilities?? I pondered. After all, having a souljam user with such powerful sorcery is already insanely dangerous… but multiple souljams? And sorcery?? And - whatever else is going on?? I know of countless magic types from my studies -and yet I can guess without a doubt that this cookie is not only able to handle souljams and sorcery, but also other powers that have never been recorded or studied, even by the great witches. Power that seem strong enough to be in control of fate itself…Which all in all means one, horrifying thing,
We are at his mercy. We... are effectively powerless.
I gulp at the thought alone, I am not a cookie to get scared and yet- this cookie seems much more unstable than any foe I have faced or even have ever come to imagine. And with how much disdain he clearly holds for Salt and I, We are more than likely not going to make it out of here unscathed. If he truly wished to just kill us, he would’ve just done so with the forks. But no, he does want to just make us suffer and kill us- he wants to get some sick joy out of it. The brutal truth lingers in my head. It feels as if my own mind is being suffocated by the very fabrics of reality.
For the first time I looked up to see the floating clown’s face. He had floated closer to us.
.
.
.
The look of pure bloodlust and endless thirst for revenge has never been hidden worse.