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Dark, gray clouds stormed from up above. Inside his room, Pure Vanilla sat at his desk, frowning. A storm. That won’t end well in battle.
Sighing, he stood up and grabbed the scroll from off of his desk, rolling it up. Slowly, he walked out the door and down the hallways, heading out of the castle and towards the many tents stationed in the castle yard. Heading towards the tent in the middle of them all, he held back the door flap.
“Knock knock,” he said, laughing weakly. Entering inside the tent, he saw the Head Guard of the Vanilla Kingdom inside, eyebrows furrowed and hands folded, sitting at a desk. “Any update on the current battle?”
The Vanillian Guard shook her head. “The Dark Cacaoian warriors are still fighting, according to the last messenger report. They’ve yet to call for reinforcements, and the messenger led us to believe it was only a smaller army of cakehounds, led by one of her minions. Based on descriptions, this minion is not one of her closer allies, and seems to just be a random cookie who joined their group to remain protected.”
Pure Vanilla sighed. “I just wish we could do something about all of those civilians who were forced to fight for her. Many of those who we have tried to save ended up taking their own lives.”
The Vanillian Guard shook her head. “I’m sorry, my King, but there’s not much we can do right now. We have not much information on the capabilities of Dark Enchantress’s power, since she’s such a new threat.”
Pure Vanilla shook his head. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out soon enough.” Taking a deep breath, he handed over the scroll in his hand. “Here, I did some strategizing. I planned for two major situations, and it sounds like we’ll need this one. Tonight, after the battle, assuming we win it, the Dark Cacaoian warriors will return. Me and the healers will work quickly to heal all their wounds, while you and the rest of the Vanillian soldiers prepare to fight tomorrow. According to the latest letter from Hollyberry, her and Golden Cheese are winning on their side of things, so I think we can push forward significantly.”
“And where do you think we should attack?”
The Vanillian Guard unfurled the scroll and laid it flat on the desk, and Pure Vanilla pointed at the spot marked in red marker. “There. Intel has told us that significant amounts of supplies are being held there, and if we can beat them there, we can take their supplies.”
The guard cleared her throat. “Sir, there’s a nearby village that has been occupied by the enemy. Don’t you suppose they’ll use the villagers so we’re unable to do anything?”
Pure Vanilla nodded. “I’ve already thought about that. That’s why, only a mere twenty minutes before we attack, I’m sending in some of our best stealth fighters. They’ll quickly take anyone out on guard, and will be able to get everyone out of there safely.”
The guard laughed, impressed. “Wow, you’ve thought this plan through. Who knew that our peaceful King would be such a strategist?”
Pure Vanilla shook his head. “I’m merely doing my part. I had never expected to have to face an enemy such as this. As a healer, I’m not much help directly on the front lines, unless I’m providing my shield or healing those injured right there. But then, I become a liability. I’m much better back here healing and thinking through strategies.”
“Well then. What’s your strategy if we lose today?”
“Very simple. As soon as the Dark Cacaoian soldiers return, you will lead the Vanillian Squadron as close as you can to our captured land. There, you are to protect the land, not to engage in combat unless absolutely necessary. Us healers back here will make sure the Dark Cacaoian warriors are healed, and then, unfortunately, they’ll be back on the front lines. As much as I would recommend them to rest, we have no time to do so. Everyday we stall, her forces grow.”
The Vanillian Guard nodded, then stood up. “Right. Then I will go make sure everything is ready.” Dipping her head, she ran off, leaving Pure Vanilla alone in the tent.
Pure Vanilla, no longer having any business there, left the tent, and went off to his next stop. Near the tent he was just in, he entered the largest tent in the entire camp. Inside were soldiers stretched out on cots and healers all around.
“Pure Vanilla! You’re here!” one of the healers exclaimed.
“Yes, I just finished the next strategy,” he explained. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no,” the head healer said, sighing and shaking his head. “We’re just… glad you’re here, y’know?”
Pure Vanilla nodded. “Yeah. There hasn’t been a break for any of us ever since Dark Enchantress showed up.”
“Yeah. You and your friends have just barely begun ruling your kingdoms, and now you’re each forced into war. It’s very sad to see.”
Sighing, he muttered, “Yeah. Though the four of us are together now, none of us can get in contact with White Lily. Whether she’s not receiving our letters, or she’s not able to reply, I’m concerned as to where she is.” Inhaling deeply, he shook his head, and turned towards the head healer. “Alright. Show me where the most wounded soldiers are right now. I can-”
Suddenly, a bird came crashing into a tent. Hitting the ground with a thud, all of the healers, Pure Vanilla included, whipped around to see the blueberry bird collapsed on the ground, covered in strawberry jam and a note in its beak.
Rushing forward instinctively to help the bird, he picked its fragile body up in his hands. His hands emanated a warm glow that wrapped around the bird, his attempt in trying to heal it. But its tiny heartbeat had stopped, and the bird had died in Pure Vanilla’s hands.
“You poor thing…” he muttered, tears coming to his eyes. No matter how many times he had to experience it, a death will always cause him to feel guilty. As a healer, I’m supposed to make sure everyone is treated and stays well, so they never end up on the brink of death. For even I do not have the power to heal what has been lost forever.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, paying no mind to the fact that the bird might have had a disease that would only hurt Pure Vanilla’s already poor eyesight, he turned to the note in its beak. Gently laying the bird’s body down on a nearby table, his shaky hands unfurled the letter.
It only took him a few seconds to skim the message inside. The other healers watched in anticipation and concern, wondering what was so important that the bird had died flying this letter to him. But not even ten seconds after opening the letter, Pure Vanilla took off, running as fast as his legs would allow him to. The reaction left all of them shocked, for he didn’t even gasp at the message or even give some verbal context as to what it had said. The discarded note fluttered to the ground, and the head healer picked it up.
He gasped, seeing the inside of the note. It was similar to the blueberry bird’s appearance, covered in strawberry jam, and it only had two things scribbled in shaky handwriting.
Help
-DC
The head healer whipped his head up, and without hesitation, turned to the rest of the healers. “We need to get to the battlefield as soon as possible!” he exclaimed, rushing to grab his travel medical bag. “The Dark Cacaoian soldiers are in trouble!”
***************************************
Despite his poor eyesight, Pure Vanilla knew exactly where to run. It was not only a matter of he had grown used to the world being just slightly unfocused, unable to be corrected by glasses, but the fact that he had sent them to this battlefield. It was his plan that had taken the Dark Cacaoian soldiers to this fight, and now it seemed it was his plan that was going awry.
Why did he send a messenger bird? A bird would’ve taken forever to find on the battlefield, and he knows that the messenger cookie would’ve been much faster.
Several times something caught his foot, but he refused to let it trip him, stumbling before righting himself and continuing. The clouds grumbled above his head, and it was clear the storm was about to move in. I need to hurry before that storm comes in. It makes things much harder to find than it already is.
The Dark Cacaoian warriors had been fighting close to the castle that day. The nearby Cream Village had been claimed by the enemy almost a week prior, for reasons they assumed to be to create the cake hounds. Though cake hounds could be created without the rich frosting produced most commonly by the Cream Villagers, both Dark Enchantress and the resistance have found that cake hounds crumble much quicker than usual without the frosting to keep them all together.
It was only a random cookie leading them, according to the first message. What happened for a help message to be sent?
The answer hit him like a punch to the gut. The usual vibrant colors of beautifully styled frosting were stained with red, and bodies were scattered all about. Gasping, he rushed towards the nearest soldier, quickly falling to his knees and attempting to heal the wounded. But, it was far too late, and even though her wounds closed and only a scar remained, the soldier remained dead, having lost her life a while ago.
He crawled around on his hands and knees from soldier to soldier, attempting and failing to save a single one. “No, no no no!” he cried, another lifeless body in his arms. “What happened here? Am I too late to save anyone?!”
Tears began to stream down his face, but a small noise caught his attention. At first, he thought he had imagined it, before he heard it again. It was faint, a weak coughing, but it was still a sign. Someone’s still alive! I can save someone!
He stood up, rushing towards the noise. The sky boomed again, but the rain refused to fall, refusing to wash the village free of a horrid crimson red that would dry to become the color of rust. Tears blocked his vision more than usual, but he didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to see the dead bodies all around, the blacks and browns accented by purple and red of the soldiers. I don’t need to see. I just need to hear that voice. Once more, please! “Hello?! Where are you?!”
“Pure… Vanilla?”
The gravelly voice was nearby, and Pure Vanilla quickly found who the voice belonged to. Lying on his back with his sword strewn away from his body, Dark Cacao laid there bleeding out with his hands over his stomach. His hair was a tangled, bloodied mess, and his face was in pain.
“Dark Cacao!” Pure Vanilla cried out, running towards the fallen King. “What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do! What… what happened here?! All your soldiers are-”
“Dead. I know,” he muttered, drawing in a sharp breath from the pain. “We were… overpowered. I… don’t know how they did it, but their forces… there was a young priestess, barely old enough to be out of school… and a child. Oh Pure Vanilla, there was a poor child!” Pure Vanilla watched in shock as the usually stoic King began to cry, heaving for air while hissing in pain.
“Dark Cacao, what about a child? Where does it hurt?” he asked, urgency growing in his voice. I need to help him. I may not be able to save his soldiers, but I can save him!
“Dark Enchantress had a child fighting for her. He… he had a cake arm, and… he was scared. I… couldn’t bring myself to hurt him! He was so young!”
Pure Vanilla hushed Dark Cacao. “Cao, please, I know you’re scared, but where does it hurt?”
Dark Cacao lowered his gaze, not looking Pure Vanilla in the eye. “He reminds me… oh no… no no no,” tears began to fall again, and he cried, “I’m not going to see him ever again! Dark Choco…”
“Dark Choco?” Pure Vanilla asked, cocking his head. “Cao, don’t tell me… you have a child?”
“I couldn’t tell you guys,” he muttered. “You wouldn’t have let me fight if you had found out, but now… my son… I made him by myself, and I left him with the milk village while I came to fight, but now… I’ll never see him again!”
“Don’t say that!” Pure Vanilla exclaimed, shaking his head. “Look… we can discuss this later, just tell me where it hurts! I’ll heal it, and we’ll go back to the castle. We… we’ll plan a countermeasure, and we’ll be back and fighting. Together! And you’ll get to see your son again!”
Dark Cacao laughed lightly, as if the thought of it amused him. “I can’t… Vanilla… I’m going to die.”
“No! You can’t be certain!”
Dark Cacao sighed, and moved his hand. Normally, the wound on his stomach would’ve started gushing out strawberry jam, yet he had nothing more to lose. “Even if you were to heal this wound, there’s not nearly enough strawberry jam left in my body to keep me alive. It’s a miracle that I’m able to speak to you right now.”
“No!” he cried. “Cao, you can’t die here! I-i-i can do a jam transplant! We’ll figure something out! Why are you giving up so easily?”
“Vanilla…” he said softly, smiling. “Look.” He extended his other hand, and in it was a shattered soul jam, its purple glow already fading. “This is the only thing that has kept me alive. It’s broken, faded… there’s nothing we can do anymore.”
Pure Vanilla didn’t listen. The sky began to spit down rain on him as he put his hands over the wound, trying to heal the wound. But even as the wound closed, the soul jam didn’t repair itself, and Dark Cacao’s eyes only became foggier. “Cao! Please, don’t leave us! We… I need you!”
“Vanilla… will you take care of my son?” he asked, putting a shaking hand on top of Pure Vanilla’s hand. “I… I want him to at least be raised with a father. You don’t have to tell him about me, or the Dark Cacao Kingdom. Just… love him as if he was your own.”
“I… can’t!” Pure Vanilla exclaimed. “Won’t he become the King, based on the hierarchy?”
“Vanilla… he’s only a newborn, and what will he rule over? The only thing left in the blizzard is the Milk Tribe. The coffee tribe has moved on, their research unable to be conducted in such harsh environments near the licorice sea, and the Licorice Village’s last student just went on to attend school somewhere else. The citadel will be completely empty, with no one to keep the sea at bay it will quickly be destroyed. I… please. I trust that he’ll be safe in your palace.”
Pure Vanilla swallowed, tears in his eyes and nodding. “I’ll… I will.”
Dark Cacao sighed, then smiled towards the sky, letting the rain that was picking up wash the strawberry jam from his wounds. “That’s good. With that taken care of, I only have one thing to worry about.”
“What’s that?”
He lifted up a shaky hand, and touched Pure Vanilla lightly on the face. “You.”
Pure Vanilla began sobbing, his tears falling onto Dark Cacao alongside the rain. Tears began streaming down Dark Cacao’s face, yet he kept smiling. Extending his hand, he dropped the shattered pieces of his soul jam into Pure Vanilla’s hand. “Here, I want you to have this. I know you’ll find a purpose for it.” He paused, his eyes growing more unfocused. But looking back up at Pure Vanilla, he muttered, “Will you sing something for me? One more time?”
Pure Vanilla nodded, clearing his throat. His voice shaky, he sang.
"You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy…
When skies are grey"
He heaved, his sadness overwhelming him. He would’ve started sobbing, if Dark Cacao hadn’t reached up and weakly stroked his cheek. “Please… finish the song.”
Pure Vanilla nodded, taking a deep breath. Dark Cacao dropped his hand and smiled, closing his eyes as he listened to the final part of the tune.
"You’ll never know…dear
H-how much I-I… love you
Please don’t take…
My sunshine… away"
Leaning over, he ended his song with a tentative, soft kiss. But Dark Cacao’s lips were lifeless, and didn’t react at all. Despite his peaceful face, the solemn King had died.
A loud, guttural cry came from Pure Vanilla. Grabbing the dead body, he held him in for a hug, burying his face in the quickly evaporating warmth of his body. The rain was pouring, slowly soggying his dough, but he couldn’t care less. The soul jam had lost all of its glow, taking a very dull purple color.
The healers hadn’t expected to find their mostly calm, patient, and peaceful King sobbing and drenched. Yet they watched as he was surrounded by dead bodies, holding them in for a hug. The head healer approached him slowly, and shook his shoulder to get his attention. “My King, you’re getting all wet. You don’t want to crumble.”
Pure Vanilla didn’t reply, just kept sobbing. So the healer didn’t say anything more, just offered his umbrella to the mourning King.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry…”
***************************************
“Father!”
Pure Vanilla woke up gasping for air. Sitting up quickly, he was covered in a cold sweat, and it was pouring rain outside. Looking over at what had woke him up, he saw Dark Choco towering over his bed.
“Father, are you alright?” he asked, cocking his head. His face was concerned, and he said, “You were crying out in your sleep again.”
Pure Vanilla nodded. “I’m fine, just… go back to bed. It’s still nighttime.”
“Are you sure? These… nightmares… keep occurring. Is there anything I can do?”
He shook his head. “No, please, just go back to sleep.”
Sensing that there was nothing he could do, Dark Choco turned and left Pure Vanilla’s sleeping chambers, closing the door quietly behind him. Pure Vanilla watched quietly as the not-so-young cookie left, then turned his head towards the window. The rain tapped against it, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
With a sigh, he reached over and grabbed the shards from off of his bedside table. That’s right. He’s been gone for years now.
Over 20 years, to be exact. The Dark Flour War ended about 10 years ago, despite a good portion of their forces being picked off. For what he could remember, many cookies had banded together to join the forces of the good side, defying even the Great Dark Enchantress. Between the Vanilla, Hollyberry, and Golden Cheese forces working on the outside to defeat her, and rallies of captured cookies working on the inside to cause a riot, their forces began to crumble. In one fateful battle, they had managed to take all of her closest allies hostage, including the Pomegranate Priestess who looked barely old enough to be a priestess, and a child who had the ability to communicate with the cake monsters, due to his arm being part cake monster itself. After her forces were destroyed, Dark Enchantress simply disappeared. She hadn’t been caught that day, but she never returned. Even to this day, they were still looking for her, alongside their friend White Lily, who had been missing ever since the war.
He couldn’t remember the exact details. Though he had a general idea, his memory was always fuzzy. All he could remember vividly was the day he had lost him, and the day he met Dark Choco.
He had taken a visit to the milk village, to tell them what had happened, and to pick up the son of the one he had lost. Dressed in usual robe with a warmer cloak than usual to keep warm, it was hard to hide his true emotions, knowing that he had to tell the pure villagers that they no longer had a kingdom. In his pocket, he fiddled with the broken shards of the soul jam, hoping that it would bring him some sort of comfort.
“I’m sorry,” he had choked out, tears coming to his eyes. “Dark Cacao… his soldiers… they’re all…” But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He shook his head, and muttered, “Dark Cacao wanted me to… look after…”
“Dark Choco?” The Village Chief has finished. “He’s just over in one of our homes, but… I can’t believe it.”
“You guys can… come to the Vanilla Kingdom,” he offered, wiping the tears from his face. “Out here, it’ll be only you.”
The Chief shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I have to decline. We need a cold environment for our milk to be produced right, and we’ve always grown up secluded from the Kingdom itself. If we need help, we’ll reach out to you though. Just… let me go get Dark Choco.”
The Chief had walked off, leaving Pure Vanilla alone for merely a minute. But before long, he came back with a bundle in his arms. Inside, a resting newborn laid peacefully. He had the same hair and dough as his father, and was practically a spitting image, except for one, tiny detail. On his forehead, he had a small, star shaped birthmark, similar to Pure Vanilla’s. Seeing the tiny feature, he felt his stomach drop. Did Dark Cacao… purposely do this… after mine? He brought his fingers up to his head instinctively, but then dropped his hands to take Dark Choco in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” Pure Vanilla muttered to the sleeping baby. “You’ll never get to meet your true father.”
“I’m sure you’ll do perfectly fine,” the Chief reassured him. “I can be assured Dark Choco will be safe with you.”
Pure Vanilla had left that day with Dark Choco held tightly against his chest, the last reminder of his lost one in his arms. From that day on, he raised Dark Choco without letting him ever know that he wasn’t his biological father, that he was in fact a King of a Fallen Kingdom. In fact, he was never even taught about the Dark Cacao Kingdom. All he knows that region as is the Frost-Covered North.
Dark Choco was no longer small anymore. After 20-ish years, he now works as a Vanillian guard. He too, protected the Kingdom from anything that might ever harm it. He helped old cookies cross the road, and he fought monsters that tried to advance onto their territory. He did grow up to be a respectable cookie. But… I’m not his true father.
Whether Dark Choco has disbeliefs about Pure Vanilla’s parent status to him, he never said anything. Though they were polar opposites, one of sweet dough and a sorrowful personality, and one of bitter dough and an outgoing personality, he seemed to believe wholeheartedly that Pure Vanilla was his true father. Perhaps it was the star-shaped birthmark, reminder that Pure Vanilla was always in Dark Cacao’s heart, was the thing that convinced him.
It had been raining that day. The doctors say that’s why he wakes up in terror when it’s raining, or he barely feels like leaving his room when the rain picks back up again. With the rain pitter pattering against his window, he reached for the broken shards and held them to his heart, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
If he ever asks, I’ll tell him. But until then, I’ll be his father. I’ll be his father because…
“He’s gone.”
He’s gone.
He’s gone.