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GingerBrave sat on the edge of castle stairs, legs swinging slowly back and forth as he looked down at the town below him. The moon cast a pale glow over the kingdom, illuminating the buildings he and his friends had built with their own hands. The wind carried the soft hum of Sugar Gnomes working late into the night, the occasional distant chatter of Cookies going about their lives.
Yet, the familiar warmth of home felt… different tonight.
His hands curled into fists on his lap. He was the founder of this kingdom… the one who had broken free from the Witch’s oven, the one who started it all. And yet, when he looked around the kingdom, he saw statues of others—Ancient Heroes, powerful Legendaries, Cookies with grand stories and untouchable strength.
Hollyberry Cookie, standing tall with an unwavering smile. Pure Vanilla Cookie, a symbol of kindness and leadership. Even Dark Cacao Cookie, despite his tragic past, was respected.
But where was he? Where was GingerBrave?
No statues bore his name. No tales were sung of his journey. In battles, he was easily outmatched by the stronger, rarer Cookies. Even in his own kingdom, others were chosen for teams over him. It wasn’t jealousy—he didn’t want fame. He just wanted to matter.
“GingerBrave?”
A small, hesitant voice broke through his thoughts. He turned slightly to see Strawberry Cookie standing there, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her hoodie. Her expression was soft, worried.
“…You’ve been quiet lately,” she murmured. “Are you okay?”
GingerBrave sighed, staring back at the kingdom. He debated lying, saying he was fine. But the weight in his chest had been there for too long, festering like an old wound.
“…Do you think I’m important?” he asked.
Strawberry Cookie blinked, caught off guard. “W-What? Of course, you are!”
“But why?” His voice wavered. “I wasn’t strong enough to stop Dark Enchantress Cookie... I can’t fight like Golden Cheese Cookie or White Lily Cookie. Even in our kingdom, I’m just… there. People favor the Beasts more. Anyone else could’ve done what I did.”
“That’s not true.”
GingerBrave flinched at the sudden firmness in her voice. Strawberry Cookie was timid, rarely raising her voice, but there was an undeniable certainty in the way she spoke now.
“If it weren’t for you, none of us would be here,” she said, stepping closer. “You were the first one to escape the Witch. The first to run. If you hadn’t, none of us would’ve followed.”
GingerBrave swallowed. “But no one remembers that.”
“I do,” she whispered. “And so does Wizard Cookie. And GingerBright. And every Cookie who calls this kingdom home.”
A lump formed in his throat. He wanted to believe her, but the ache in his chest didn’t fade so easily.
As if sensing his doubt, Strawberry Cookie hesitated before slowly, carefully, wrapping her arms around him. It was awkward—but it was warm.
“We see you, GingerBrave,” she said softly. “Even if the rest of the world forgets… we won’t.”
For the first time that night, the weight in his chest felt just a little lighter.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.