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In Hometown, it was a morning like any other: birds were chattering their pretty little songs, flowers were adorning the scenery with their beautiful colors, and the early sun blessed it all with its meek light. Denizens of this cozy little community, populated exclusively by monsters, were leaving their houses either for school or for work, politely greeting every single person met on their way – there were no strangers here, only distant friends. Kris sat on the windowsill to witness such a wondrous picture, and, if any thought could visit them even for a moment, they would probably frown at the sight. However, such course of actions was impossible for a good reason: Kris was not a monster, and neither they were a human capable of thought. Rather, they were a tasty cake.
Right now, their beige base was slowly cooling down after a particularly challenging cooking session: their dough refused to keep its form, at least until it got complimented by a few more spoons of sugar. The art of baking was a peculiar one indeed, and even that minor deviation from the recipe led to the base ending up a little bit smaller and rougher over the edges; perhaps a good frosting could mask it, at least partially. At last, their leisure time came to its end, and thus Kris found themselves in the kitchen again.
It was supposed to be a fairy simple pattern, with a single yellow line intercepting solid green, but there were difficulties as well: Kris wasn’t cooled off properly, and so different colors of the glaze melted against each other before they could be solidified. Oh well, there was definitely a certain beauty in such imperfections. Adorned with marzipan red hearts (some of them looking like creepy eyes), Kris was shelved to the fridge to enjoy a few hours of their most exiting adventure. After all, they were merely a cake, even if a tasty one.
Castle Town was so morbidly quiet, even a casual whisper would have broken the silence that settled upon it. Prince Ralsei was in a state that might have been called agitation – his dark chocolate frosting was so dangerously close to reveal milky texture of a cheesecake, and his pink candy horns were peeking from under his decorative hat.
Most people would reject such a confusing mixture of sweets outright, and, be he capable of it, he would have nodded meekly to their many objections. What was he supposed to be, exactly? A creation of an especially talented baker, carefully engineered to please everyone yet no one? Or a figment of a child’s fantasy, combining together everything they would rather savor for a breakfast?
He would have felt so very lonely if he was not a tasty cake, but calling him one would not be exactly correct either: pastries of the Dark World were slightly different after all. Inside his very core, there was a hollow heart waiting to be filled with a purpose and love – or with sweet syrup to make his taste even more otherworldly! If Ralsei could think, he’d probably picked the second option himself, as someone quite special for him would appreciate that indeed.
It was, however, a story for another time. For now, Ralsei would continue to stand in the courtyard of his desolated castle. Because he was a tasty cake, and cakes weren’t exactly famous for their ability to move around.
This was it. Their final struggle, their most important battle to date. King of Spades was looming over them in his dangerous glory: not on every day you’d see a kransekage cake of such an intimidating size, easily approaching the height of a shortish monster. Cape of marzipan was hiding his body covered in pieces of almond cookies and hazelnuts, and his overall stature resembled a spire aiming for the skies. If anyone was there to try it however, they would have argued that his texture bore a sour, unpleasant taste, and the coloring used for the dough definitely had its own undertones.
Lancer, a tiny cupcake with blue cream serving as his little hat, would have looked at his father in utter horror if he had any eyes – once a sweet and wonderful dessert worthy of a royal, he turned into a bitter former shell of himself, taking pleasure in commanding sweets and destroying any cakes who would dare to stand in his way. And three of them did just that.
Ralsei, if he could experience any emotion, would be so determined in this moment. He would have looked at his right to see a beefy cake covered in cream of grape purple and lemon gold, with jam so different yet so similar serving as a glue that held her layers together. So contradictory and rich in her taste, Susie would have been the first one to attack the fallen King. If only she herself was not a tasty cake!
To his left, there was also a different cake proudly standing their ground; some skeptics would have argued that it was their only ability, but, as we established by now, there were only cakes in sight. Kris would have probably enjoyed their new appearance if they were capable of doing so: crowned by powdered sugar and a circle of blueberries, they were the most charming chocolate cake around here no doubt. Their sides slowly crumbled with cocoa and milky chips alike, hiding soft base filled with melting chocolate; if one could cut a piece of them, it would flow not unlike lava, and Kris would be the first one to devour such a treat. They could not, of course, because they were a cake themselves.
If legendary heroes were capable of thought, they would have realized that their struggle against King was futile. And yet, three of them could never concede any ground – because they were tasty, tasty cakes, and they would never flee in fear and surrender the fate of the world.
Susie would have proposed their celebration to be uncompromisingly loud, drowning the entire Castle Town in the roaring cacophony of music. As a cake, of course, she was unable to express or even come up with such an idea, and thus King’s defeat was a rather homely occasion with only modest entertainments. The castle had an ancient record player that could have came in handy today, but, obviously, cakes possessed no hands to efficiently operate it.
By now, Ralsei mustered enough courage to reveal his true self to his friends; that would be a poetic way to describe it, at least. To be a bit more realistic, his true texture was revealed during the battle, and there was no more reason to hide it: he was indeed a milky cheesecake, incredibly soft and indescribably delicious. Pink cookies shaped like tiny stars hugged his form and leisurely floated in it, and two green circles, somewhat resembling glasses, were put against his candy horns. Curiously, one could also notice two large pieces of marzipan that, from a certain angle, were shaped not unlike monster ears.
Kris, if they ever could feel such an emotion, would have fallen at the first sight: so toothsome and luscious, he was noticeably bigger than them and definitely much more firm than he appeared at the first glance. They, however, were a cake, and thus could only fall from their plate.
But, just to entertain this idea a little, perhaps Ralsei himself would have shared similar feelings: were not Kris a cake, they would have shown an admirable courage during their adventures by leading the way. Even among cakes, they stood as an undisputed leader – not last because cakes could neither choose nor depose any authority figures, though Kris’ sugary charisma definitely wasn't something to completely disregard.
In a different and less sweet world, two of them could dream about their future in this magnificent yet lonely Castle Town, and Susie would have absolutely thought about eating a few cupcakes during her frequent visits. Such fantasies that they could never come up with by themselves were truly, truly wonderful.
Alas, they were just cakes, and their tasty adventures for today came to a close.