Chapter Text
Another day passed by at the Spire of Truth. Its master, Blueberry Milk, seemed especially weary this evening, hazily gazing at the sun setting in the distance. In times like these, he.. she? No, he often went to a hidden place of his Spire. Why ? There were very few people who knew about that balcony, and the view there was nothing short of breathtaking.
Having a goal in mind, Blueberry Milk made his way to the hideout. However, halfway through the last bunch of stairs, he sensed someone's presence. In HIS spot, really ? And now of all times ? He really needed to blow off some smoke and find a reason to not start spewing nonsense in class given how all his students seemed to not question his words and looked nothing short of empty headed in class ! Just thinking about it made his brain boil in frustration. Was he raising dumb sheep ?
Wanting to escape his rising emotions, he exhaled sharply and climbed the last steps, mentally preparing himself to scold some ignorant who didn't get this was HIS place. Really, who could be stupid enough to not-
His train of thought was cut short. Before him was a woman, crouching somehow gracefully in front of his flowers. His whole body froze, eyes stuck on the beauty in front of him. Her heavenly white hair and robes, her light skin, her soft expression, her tender touch on the flower's petals.
Everything gave out an ethereal aura, like the God he never believed in just descended right here, before his mesmerized person. The unknown yet strangely, vaguely familiar, slightly turned her head to the side, attention still fully on the plants. She hummed before speaking in a hushed tone.
"How beautiful.. , she seemed to be talking to herself ? The enigmatic woman continued, Did you plant these ?"
Blueberry Milk's eyes widened in surprise. So he was caught huh ? Hopefully she wasn't offended by his hopeless staring..
"Yes, I also tend to them since this place is rather recluse. Can I, um. Help you ?"
The crouching figure finally raised her head and turned it as if to look at him, through closed eyes, expression clearly indicating confusion. He really needed to explain huh ? He cleared his throat before explaining
"You see, this place is actually my um." Gosh why did he keep staggering? Was her beauty dumbing him down ? He breathed deeply and continued. "It actually is my personal resting space. Those who come here are first of all well informed and second, they seek an audience with me."
The white haired woman, who's name he still wasn't aware of, gave him a light smile. "Well, am I not the same? Although a chat would be more suitable than an audition. But if you wish to present it that way, I don't mind."
Blueberry Milk was dumbfounded. The white haired gracefully stood up and made her way to the table behind her, accompanied by two matching chairs. Her demeanor completely captured Blueberry Milk who only came back to reality after she invited him to sit by a small arm gesture. Hiding his flushing face behind the large sleeves of his robes, Blueberry Milk sat as the mysterious lady requested.
They were now sitting face to face, with on one side Blueberry Milk who's face and ears were still reddened, and on the other, the pure white clothed stranger, silently giggling. The Fount of Knowledge, trying to burry his embarrassment, decided to start the conversation himself.
"How did you even know who I am ?"
The lady seemed mildly surprised. She opened her eyes and gave him a light smile. "Well, it isn't hard to recognize the Fount of Knowledge when he himself is there. Plus, you have the same sweet scent as this whole Spire."
Blueberry Milk didn't answer immediately ; his poor mind needed to process too many things. First, her eyes, white just like her hair, seemed so serene and perfectly completed her seraphic appearance. Second, the praise : sweet, him ? Is that what she thought of him ? That certainly was flattering, considering he already felt himself soften and become more vulnerable around her.
As Blueberry Milk wasn't answering and instead seemed completely out of the world, she continued speaking, closing her eyes again.
"Dear knowledgeable jester, your voice is also recognisable. I have heard it in one of your plays, which was very entertaining I must admit. And as a fellow Great Cookie, it is rather easy to identify my colleagues."
His voice? Oh, she watched theatre too ? Oh he'd just LOVE to take her to see his favourite- Wait. Fellow Great Cookie?
Blueberry Milk's face decomposed itself again. This mysterious lady just wouldn't stop surprising him huh ? Well, that explained the familiarity. The Great Cookies Assembly only took place in dreams, and they never really saw eachothers before, and remembering their voices was tricky since memories of dreams tend to be forgotten easily.
"You're... A Great Cookie too ?"
The question slipped through his teeth without much thinking, which he immediately regretted. Why was he acting like an idiot? She just said she was ! Ahh, stupid stupid-
"Yes, I am. The bearer of the Soul Jam of Volition, Wheat Flour. It is a pleasure to meet you properly Blueberry Milk."
Her smooth and quiet, yet reassuring voice stuck him out of his self loathing. Deep down, he felt relieved she didn't seem care about him being the Sage of the Spire. This was his first time being seen as Blueberry Milk, and nothing else.
"Pleasure to meet you too. Do I need to use any specific appellations? Or are there any rules I should know ? I heard the Pagoda is strict about interactions with its High Priest."
Mystic Flour laughed at his singsongish tone mocking the Pagoda's harsh regulations. She simply reassured him that as a fellow Great Cookie, no mortal rules should apply and that he was free to address to her as Wheat Flour.
Blueberry Milk was curious about how familiar he could get. That feeling of freedom was making his brain go crazy, crave for more. Yes, he wanted something special with her. Take her around the Spire, visit libraries, read together, hang out in his room and maybe-
"I actually came here to seek advice.." Wheat Flour's voice interrupted his spiraling down yet again. Maybe was it for the better?
"Advice ? For what ? I only heard good things from the Pagoda and the wishes it grants."
Wheat Flour laughed, a hit of bitterness transpiring through her fading formal mask.
"Although my love for the people is unwavering, I couldn't help but realize how greed seems to grow each wish I grant. I fear that on day, that boundless greed will take over them, that these wordly desires will shackle them to their mortal condition, preventing them from achieving enlightenment."
So that was what's bothering the almighty Great Wheat Flour. Her gentleness really was something else. However, when it came to handling pesky little gnats, his students had already given him enough experience to share some light with a fellow harassed soul.
"Well... In terms of being stuck with, oh don't get me wrong it starts with a good intention but still, PESKY little ants who won't leave until you cave in for their little shenanigans, I had my share of situations ! All I can do is well, share my stories with you. Hope that satisfies you ? Sorry that this O grand and 'all knowing' Sage lacks guidance.."
The priest before him finally loosened and broke into unstoppable laughter. Still smiling through teary eyes, she answered. "Oh Great Sage, it is quite fine, really ! It has been eons since I last had a heart to heart conversation with anyone. If you don't mind, I will also share my experiences so please, let us not mock each other and simply laugh heartily"
The both of them talked and talked until the Moon was high in the sky. Laughing, making conjectures, discussing 'what-if's, somehow ending shoulder to shoulder. As much as Blueberry Milk would have loved to brush their encounter as one between many, his whole being was telling him otherwise. All throughout their chatter, he could feel his blood pumping aggressively in his veins, his poor heart eagerly skipping a beat at every laugh his not-so-mysterious-anymore lady -who he nicknamed Mystie due to her mysterious attitude, or maybe the mysterious attraction he felt for her- thoughtlessly let resonate against his blushing shoulder.
Just like that, deep in the night, they reluctantly parted ways, walking hand in hand to the Spire's entrance. Blueberry Milk felt horrible, like some part of him was being torn away from him, letting the cold midnight wind freeze his hands. Wheat Flour gave him one last smile, so obviously filled with regret and sorrow. But they did not have a choice ; tomorrow, the Sage would be back to teaching his insufferable classes while the Priest would grant wishes to her greedy people. This was how their fate was.
"I'll come back soon !" Were her last words before slowly being swallowed by the darkness. Blueberry Milk was left there, miserable, craving her presence. He needed to see her, and soon. Otherwise he couldn't stay sane and focused, his mind despairingly wandering to her. He even already hand a plan : this time, he would visit her.