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It's calming out here.
To Truthless Recluse's credit, the sound of the rain pitter-pattering on his umbrella's a rather soothing sensation, even with how cautious he has to be when outside in the rain. His cape of light would drain if exposed, leaving him weak and unable to fly. So the Recluse always remembers to bring an umbrella on particular cloudy days, predicting when a downpour comes.
Other Cookies would already call him crazy, being the lone hermit who lives at the Peak of Truth, brooding and sauntering, lost in his thoughts all alone. If they knew he took leisurely strolls in the rain to dampen the rampaging thoughts that tormented day after day, night after night, he thinks they would lose their minds.
He'd flown out from his tower to visit this forest; it's more grander and taller than the others he's seen. Tall trees stretching up into the sky, rivers and outcrops of cliffs providing shelter from the rain. His tower's much, much more impossibly towering than any flora here, but the way the fog's settled over the treetops and casting a tranquil misty haze over the woods is another breathtaking sight of its own.
Truthless Recluse strolls down a familiar path; softly humming a tune under his breath. It's a song he's heard before, but he can't remember the name of it. Though, he recalls sneaking into the town square one day to watch a songstress who performed it - an elegant dancer using her magic to conjure ribbons of floating water.
He'd left that day with the song stuck in his head.
He continues humming, accidentally stepping into a puddle and splashing water all over his robes. He frowns, staring displeasingly at the tiny pool formed by a dip in the grass. A scoff - and Recluse rolls on.
There's no one but him in this forest from what he can tell, and he highly doubts anyone other than him would be out here.
But it isn't until he almost rounds a corner - and spots the Sage of Truth sitting at the base of a tree.
Hm. He didn’t think he would be here of all places.
Recluse pauses; he's still half-hidden by the tree that's near him. He waits, seeing if the Sage would move or do anything. But moments pass - and the Sage, Blueberry Milk Cookie, does not move from his spot.
He's huddled under his golden and white cape - a contrast to Truthless Recluse's dark navy - with a rather gloomy and downcast expression painting his features. He hugs his knees, the rolled-up starry blue ends of his tailcoat furling around him.
The Sage's alone, Recluse can concur. But then why is he here out in the rain?
Recluse shrank behind the tree a bit, debating on whether he should slip by and continue his peaceful stroll or go up to the Sage.
After that fated day in the square, the Sage wanted to meet him again, sending memory candles unbidden his way. At first, Recluse rejected them, for he and the Sage had clashing ideals, and the other did not pull away from his mission of spreading and encouraging the truthseekers. But eventually he'd meet the Sage again, accidentally stumbling upon his grand observatory - and he was invited inside.
Truthless Recluse could definitely see how passionate the Sage was - and not just about the truth, but about knowledge in general. He was brought to the observatory's grand library, with towering bookshelves and great lanterns, red-waxed candles scattered and softly illuminating the space. The Sage had given him some of his favorite scrolls to share - and claimed he wanted to get to know Recluse, finding him 'fascinating'.
Whatever that means, he supposes. But he had agreed, meeting up with the other more and more. Much of the Sage was still an utter mystery to Truthless Recluse, but he digresses.
The rain patters down around them, the only thing that's breaking the silence - other than the sound of running and dripping water off of Recluse's umbrella. A slow breath in, and he emerges out from behind the tree, stepping over to the lonesome Cookie.
"Sage."
Blueberry Milk doesn't move when his name's called, remaining silent even as Truthless Recluse stands right in front of him, casting a large shadow over where he's sitting.
"Sage," Recluse repeats, "what are you doing out here?"
He can see the Sage's eyes briefly shift up in his direction before redirecting to the ground again.
"Why are you out here in the rain, Sage of Truth?"
The other doesn't reply; he shudders and nestles deeper into his cloak.
"You look very troubled," Recluse says, gazing curiously down at him. "Did something happen?"
The Sage blinks, unresponsive.
With a weary sigh, Recluse shuffles over and sits down beside Blueberry Milk, propping his umbrella against the tree trunk. As he sits criss-cross on the grass he leaves a bit of space between them as a sort of courtesy; he isn't one for invading personal space as he doesn't want his own invaded. And if he was the Sage, he wouldn't want someone sitting close to him. They weren't strangers, but they weren't extremely close, either. Somewhere… in between.
Recluse stares out into the rain, merely watching the downpour until a rustling noise jostled him out of his thoughts - and he finds the Sage staring at him with wide, golden-indigo eyes.
"…Did you need something?" Recluse perks a brow. "If you want me to leave, just say so."
Blueberry Milk blinks, mouth slightly parted - before averting his gaze.
"…Sorry."
"What…?"
"N-nevermind," the Sage says quickly, shaking his head. "I… it's nothing."
"This isn't like you," Recluse frowns, "you look miserable."
Blueberry Milk shuffles uncomfortably, shrinking a bit more into his own cape. "My apologies, Recluse… I've just been thinking. About a lot of things, actually. And I… well… I needed to clear my head."
"You must have a lot of things that are worrying you if you've become this disheartened," Recluse says.
"You could put it that way," he mumbles.
"Care to explain?"
The Sage turns to him, weariness and exhaustion half-lidding the usual bright curiosity in his eyes.
"I… I guess this is what you meant by I will never understand your motives."
"What? My motives…?" Recluse squints. "What's made you ruminate over my motives all of a sudden?"
"I remember, you told me at first that we couldn't be friends because I didn't get your reasoning behind why you'd confronted me in the square," he says, staring out into the rain again. "And there, at the square… you called me out for pushing others to find the Truth, even though I knew all too well the Truth is imperfection incarnate."
"It is," Recluse replies. "Do you understand now why I told you off that time…?"
Blueberry Milk shrugs. "I knew you were one to push others away from the truth to protect them from anguish," he murmurs, "But… thinking about it… there was something about that fact that's been bothering me. Even more so now that I'm familiar with you."
"How?"
"Because…" his breath hitches, inhaling deeply, "I realized how far I've fallen more from the truth than you."
His weary tone holds no condescension, no anger; only something akin to longing.
"You truly care about others," he says. "And I don't know why you care so much to go as far as protecting them, even in your despair."
Truthless Recluse blinks, stupefied. "Is this really… what this is all about?"
"Yes?!" the Sage exclaims, sitting up and frowning at him, his exhaustion seeming to dissipate. "Yes, this is what this is about. It's been bothering me for ages. It's always been lingering there in the back of my mind. It's a nagging question that refuses to leave me, trailing behind me like some ghost."
He slumps, voice growing quiet again. "And… well. I just… don't know anymore. Maybe… perhaps I need more time to think on this."
Recluse stares at him for a long moment. Is the Sage jealous of him? Despite Blueberry Milk's rather ridiculous and whimsical nature, he'd always been earnest in his ideals. Even if those ideals, in Truthless Recluse's eyes, were not… the most ideal.
The Truth is cruel, after all. A double-edged sword.
And the Sage knows that too.
"Well," he begins, "You know that I was once a truthseeker like you."
Blueberry Milk turns to him, slowly. "You did say you witnessed despair at the Peak of Truth…"
Recluse nods.
"Once I sought to find the truth to help others. But upon discovering what lies up there," he grips the fabric of his robes, "…I saw… I saw how grave it was. And… I've cursed myself countless times for making that mistake."
He closes his eyes.
"I can't bear to let others see what I've seen. They're better off living their lives in blissful happiness rather than knowing what darkness lies at the end of their path. It's… better that way."
The Sage's eyes widen. "What…? Happiness…?"
Recluse stares at him. "Do you not know what happiness is, Sage?"
"I do, but…" Blueberry Milk tilts his head, uncertainty crossing his face. "What value does happiness possibly have in the discovery of truth?"
The value of happiness…?
“Questions like that… will only burden you more, Sage," Recluse sighs. "Happiness is everything. Love is built into our existence. It doesn’t go any more beyond that.”
He glances at the other with a quiet apprehension. "Do you not want to be happy?"
The Sage is quiet. A beat of silence passes through them, save for the downpour. He remains staring at Recluse for what seems like an eternity before letting out a sigh, looking at the ground.
"It's just… I cannot find a reason to care about others like you do," he whispers, almost inaudible under the rain.
Truthless Recluse freezes.
"You… cannot find a reason to care," he repeats.
The Sage shakes his head again. "I just can't. I don't know why so. Spending time with you, Recluse, has made me realize how selfless you are."
Selfless. The word echoes in his mind, turning it over and over like rolling up a scroll.
"Looking back at that now," Blueberry Milk continues, "I'm not like you at all. I'm… I'm insensitive. Obsessed, even. All for the truth. It's what I live for, after all.
"I've been pushing others to find the truth, even though it'll hurt them. My lectures, my shows… I believe that through true enlightenment, there would be nothing to fear besides deceit otherwise.
"But you've shown me. True fear… it's something that can break you entirely. Embracing the cruel truth… it's a corruption. And yet I just… I still don't understand. Why do I persist, even if it only leads to hurt?"
The Sage turns to Recluse, a yearning curiosity shining in his mismatched eyes. "What is the reason why I don't care?"
Silence falls. Truthless Recluse can only stare back in disbelief - until a thought dawns on him.
Does he not care because he's never learned to? Is that why he doesn't seem to see the value in happiness?
He lingers on that thought for a while.
Perhaps the Sage's been misguided this whole time, bringing to what he sorely believes to be the glorious truth: enlightenment, regardless of what the outcome is - good or bad.
Recluse had seen it countless times - encouraging others through his lectures, spreading his knowledge wherever he went - and the others would blindly follow, not knowing what pain lied at the end of their flight: their fall.
For Recluse was one of them. A fallen truthseeker.
And even though he'd cursed himself thousands of times, in a perpetual guilt that'd haunted him for years and years, he'd been able to ease his burden a little in knowing his duty to protect others.
The Sage… was he just as burdened as he was?
He'd rarely talked about himself, after all. Even when the Recluse asked him questions about him specifically, the Sage would always divert it with another question, or, worse, complimenting him earnestly.
He realizes now, how little he actually knows the Sage for who he is.
Ah.
"Then… I'll be a reason," he offers, holding out his hand.
Blueberry Milk blinks, surprised. "What…?"
"I'll be the reason you care, if you let me," Recluse says. "I’ll show you what it means to care, if you're willing to understand… I can be a truth that you seek.”
He locks his gaze with the Sage's. "Will you welcome my perspective?"
"I… Your perspective…" Blueberry Milk says, glancing wide-eyed at the hand that's being held out to him.
A beat of silence - before he reaches forward, and takes Recluse’s hand.
He gives a demure smile, his weary eyes brightening. "If you're the answer to my question, then… I will welcome it warmly."
Truthless Recluse nods, a small smirk creeping on the corner of his lips.
And then, unbidden, he holds out his other arm, gesturing for Blueberry Milk to come closer.
The other veers back slightly in surprise, but he, too, only smiles wider; he shuffles over and lets Recluse wrap his arms around him. The Sage shudders in Recluse’s hold, leaning against the hermit's shoulder.
Despite being out here in the cold rain, Recluse can feel the warmth radiating off of him - his light. It's chased away the damp, chilly air, like a warm lantern illuminating the icy darkness.
And in turn, Recluse’s also sharing his own warmth, a sort of bondage that naturally comes with sharing the light from their capes; for whenever capes of light came near or in contact with each other they restored each other’s energy.
If he's being honest, Truthless Recluse cannot remember why he even has this cape. Many, many other Cookies had capes like him, including the Sage, and they were the wings that carried them to and fro across the earth. Some say that their capes were blessings from the stars - the gods - but Recluse is more than less inclined to agree. Way, way less, in fact.
"My apologies, Truthless Recluse," the Sage murmurs after a long beat of silence. "I… thank you for sitting with me."
Recluse blinks. "Your light would drain out here, you know…"
"I knew that," the other says with a sigh. "But being in my observatory didn't let me think properly, and I needed to clear my head. It started raining after I came out here."
"Didn't you see the sky was getting dark?"
A shrug. "It overcame me, I suppose."
Recluse rolls his eyes. "You can be so ridiculous sometimes."
He laughs, face crinkling with mirth. "I’m part comedian, you know. Being whimsy is in my nature. Just like seeking the truth!"
Recluse ruffles his cape around him, giving the other a gentle squeeze. "And it's in my nature to keep that in check. I can't have you losing your light and crumble without my supervision."
"Oh boohoo, you're no fun," the Sage reaches up and pokes the side of Recluse's face, who perks a brow at his friskiness, but does nothing to stop him. “Anyway, why were you out here?”
“Leisurely stroll.”
“In the rain?”
“It’s more calming than you think,” the hermit says.
The Sage pokes him again. “I guess the pitter patter dampened my nerves while I sat here. I was in a bit of a fickle earlier.”
“Mm.”
A giggle, and he’s poked again, before Blueberry Milk pulls his hand away.
They’re seated there for awhile, softly embracing each other in the rain; it isn’t long before Truthless Recluse feels his eyelids start drooping. He senses the Sage gripping on his cape and leaning into him, breathing lightly.
Soon enough, they both drift off into sleep, under the shelter of the tree, the rain pouring down around them in a monotone yet comforting rhythm.
Truthless Recluse’s jostled awake with a yelp when a large branch crashes down somewhere nearby, chasing away the drowsiness.
“Wh- What was that?” Blueberry Milk whispers, blinking owlishly.
“A branch crashed down somewhere,” Recluse sighs.
“Oh.”
“You okay?”
“Yes. I-I didn’t even realize I fell asleep,” the Sage says, looking away. “My apologies.”
“It’s fine. I feel asleep too.”
“It’s still raining,” the Sage murmurs. “We’ve been out here for ages now.”
"Shall… we get going then?" Recluse says, looking out at the rain. "We should had back before things get… worse."
"Ah," Blueberry Milk says. "But you're warm."
"Wh-What?" Recluse swivels his head to the Sage, who's innocently staring with a pout. "What did you say?"
"You're warm," he repeats, burying his face into the hermit's shoulder. "It’s been cold out here. But your light's so cozy. And warm. Like the sun."
"We… we can do this back at your observatory," Recluse huffs, blatantly ignoring the heat rising to his face.
The Sage looks up. "Oh! Huh. I guess you're right."
Recluse pulls away from him, getting to his feet. The Sage reaches for the umbrella and hands it to him, scrambling up after - whilst still holding Recluse's free hand. They redirect their gazes to the murky grey sky.
"Can you fly in this weather? It seems a bit rough this time around," Blueberry Milk says.
"Don't worry, I've flown through worse before," Recluse reassures, opening his umbrella. It's lightweight and sturdy, and it could handle being carried in the air. "Storms aren’t too bad once you get used to them. Just hold onto me.”
“Heard ya loud and clear.”
Recluse turns to him. “Ready?”
The Sage nods, smiling.
Feeling the light coalesce in his cape, Recluse spreads his wings, and leaps into the air, the Sage taking off with him. They ascended higher and higher, swerving across the treetops and narrowly avoiding stray branches. Blueberry Milk pulled out a restorative candle to recharge Recluse’s light as they flew. The hermit glances at him, and gives him a cheery grin.
Recluse crinkles his face in reply, and turns back to look ahead - but a smile begins growing on his lips as they ascend out of the forest.
Together, they flew out of the rain - and towards another light.
