Chapter Text
“Let me be your… Friend.”
Everything happened so quickly after that. The yelling, the fighting, the light, and then… Nothing. Complete darkness.
Pure Vanilla awoke in a room that'd be much darker if there were not a lamp above him. Behind him? He couldn't quite place where the light was coming from, and it took until he stood to realize it had been himself emitting the warm golden glow.
He did not recognize the location. It was a damp, concrete room- or rather, a hallway. With a dead end behind him and no cookie in sight, Pure Vanilla centered himself to avoid worry before setting off down the hall, turning various corners as he traversed the pitch black locale.
His footsteps echoed as he walked, and had he not stopped at the fork in the path, he would not have noticed the second pair echoing down the left hall.
As Pure Vanilla turned his attention to the sound, a single blue eye opened up amidst the darkness, followed by a second, then a third, until several eyes were all trained on him menacingly.
Hesitantly, he took a step forward, the eyes vanishing as he illuminated the path- revealing a lone Shadow Milk glaring at him.
“You're a major buzzkill, do you know that?” He frowned, not acknowledging his scuffed and bruised body.
“You're injured.” Was Pure Vanilla’s response.
“I’m fine. I can see in the dark on my own, by the way. I don't need your help getting out of here.”
“Ah, speaking of- Where is… Here?” It felt strange, the soft and calm conversation between them. No heightened emotions, no astronomical stakes, just the quiet echo of their voices in the stone maze.
“For once, I have no idea. I didn't know this place even existed. I can still feel the Spire above us, though. We have to be somewhere underground.” There was almost shame in his voice at the admission, and Shadow Milk crossed his arms accordingly.
“Underneath the Spire…?” Pure Vanilla echoed. “How curious.”
“Uh-huh. Can you move? I want to get out of here.” Shadow Milk griped impatiently.
“Ah, right! If you can see in the dark, and I can create light, it only seems logical that we work together to escape, right?” Pure Vanilla offered cheerfully.
“How is that different from working separately?” Shadow Milk raises a brow, already tiring of the conversation.
Pure Vanilla, unwilling to let the opportunity slip by, nodded accordingly. “Well, you said that you can sense the Spire above us, right? Do you think you can use it to guide us to the exit, as well?”
“If there's a door, probably- Wait, why would I help you?! I hate you!” Shadow Milk sputtered, then huffed. “Really, do you think anything through?”
“Shadow Milk Cookie.” Pure Vanilla's tone was sudden and serious. “We’re alone in a dark room with nobody around for who knows how far. If you truly wanted to crumble me, you would have done so already.”
Shadow Milk glared at him, a growl rumbling in his throat before he turned on his heel and began marching down the other path. “Well? This way. Just because I can see in the dark doesn't mean I can see well, so put your status as a walking candle to good use.”
Pure Vanilla simply smiled and followed him.
The halls were long and winding, but the pair found solace in the door at the end. It was large and barred, but the plank of wood could be lifted easily with a bit of teamwork.
“… Huh.” Shadow Milk’s tone was unusually soft. “I’ve seen this door before.”
“You have? I thought you had never been here?” Pure Vanilla tilted his head.
“Pshh. I wish I had the energy to lie right now. I feel like I’m going to collapse any second.” Shadow Milk shook his head. “It's at the back of the storm cellar in the Spire’s basement. It's been locked for as long as I could remember, though, and I’ve always wondered what was inside.”
“Did you not build the Spire?” Pure Vanilla asked, a genuine curiosity in his voice.
“Sort of? I am the Spire. It's part of me, in a way. I can't really put it into words. This room isn't something I have control over, though. It was built by someone else. The only cookies with the power to do that without me noticing, though, are the other beasts.” He shrugged. “And it's not like any of them are the type to build a massive maze in an unused basement for shits and giggles, that's my thing.”
Pure Vanilla hummed in thought. The Spire being an extension of Shadow Milk’s body explained a considerable amount of the events he had experienced while inside.
“The bar doesn't look too heavy. The two of us can lift it easily, I think.” He commented, positioning himself on one side and waiting for Shadow Milk to do the same.
A simple heave was all that was necessary to remove the bar, and the door creaked open on its own.
The moment they stepped out of the room and into the storm cellar, Shadow Milk collapsed into a heap.
“Shadow Milk Cookie!” Pure Vanilla found himself exclaiming, kneeling to help him up.
“I’m fine, quit doting!” Shadow Milk hissed, struggling to lift himself. “Give me a minute, I can get up on my own!”
Pure Vanilla still lingered on his knees, concern holding in his expression.
“Your little brats are stronger than they look, do you know that?” He grumbled.
“Ah- the children!” Pure Vanilla glanced around in worry, but Shadow Milk grabbed his attention again.
“They've already left the Spire. They were heading in the direction of the Faerie Kingdom, they've probably made it there by now.”
Pure Vanilla let out a sigh of relief. “Well, that's good news.”
Shadow Milk finally pulled himself onto trembling feet, and it only took Pure Vanilla moments to take matters into his own hands and lift Shadow Milk into his arms.
After his initial yelp of surprise, Shadow Milk silently appreciated the pressure off his aching legs and resigned himself to a complacent pout as Pure Vanilla carried him out of the storm cellar.
After a few failed attempts at both opening a portal and garnering Shadow Milk's help to do so, Pure Vanilla managed to summon a gateway to the Vanilla Kingdom.
“This power is convenient, isn't it? I understand why you use it so often now.” He smiled pleasantly.
“Used. I can't access that power while you have my soul jam, you know.” Shadow Milk frowned, struggling from his seat in the grass. “Go on, make your escape, you haven't seen the last of me, I’ll have my revenge, yadda yadda yadda.”
Pure Vanilla tilted his head. “Aren't you coming with me?”
“… Why would I do that?” Shadow Milk furrowed his brow. “I still have my Spire.”
“And you can barely walk back to it.” Pure Vanilla didn't hesitate to pick him up again. “At least stay with me until your wounds heal.”
Grumbling under his breath, Shadow Milk once again resigned himself to be carried away.
The bed he was offered was soft, much more so than the hard wood of the silver tree. Shadow Milk wasn't sure how long he slept for, but the sun was rising through the curtains when he finally woke.
As he stretched out, Shadow Milk noticed the bandages around his legs, wrapped with attentive and loving care- That damned healer.
Still, walking was much easier. The clothing laid out was more intact than his tattered jester’s garb, but he deigned not to wear it on principle.
Instead, he pushed right out the bedroom doors and into the various halls. If Pure Vanilla was really so intent on having him stay, he'll take Shadow Milk's bothering without complaint.
Finally, he found the healer, watering flowers in a greenhouse full of lilies. That cookie… Shadow Milk shook off the thought. He slithered past the plants, taking care not to make noise-
“I saw you come in, Shadow Milk Cookie. There's no need to sneak around.”
-Though it was all for naught.
“I meant it when I called you a buzzkill.” Shadow Milk groaned, approaching with a huff.
“Did you not like the clothes I left for you?”
“I’m not wearing your stuff.”
“I’ll find someone to tailor something for you, then.”
“That's not what I meant.”
Shadow Milk squatted down to observe one of the lilies. “Why do you have so many of the same flower? Seems redundant to me.”
“An old friend gave me a few seeds a very long time ago. They've mostly spread on their own since then.” Pure Vanilla watched him with a serene smile.
“… In most cultures, lilies were used as funeral flowers. However, there were many people who used them for celebrations like weddings or coming of age ceremonies, and some who used them as medicinal herbs. Consistently, the flower has been a symbol of the cycle of life and death, some cultures would even depict the afterlife as an endless field of lilies.” Shadow Milk spoke as if reciting a textbook. “… How often do you think about death, Pure Vanilla Cookie?”
“Ah? That's a sudden question.” Pure Vanilla hummed. “Why do you ask?”
“An old friend of mine would constantly ask me for information about funeral rites. I know a lot about them because of him.” Shadow Milk's silence was more somber. “… Sometimes I wonder if the path he chose was really what he wanted to live for.”
Pure Vanilla put away his watering can and held out a hand to Shadow Milk. “You didn't have any contact with the outside world while trapped in the silver tree, correct? You've got a lot of history to catch up on. Why don't you accompany me to the library?”
Shadow Milk furrowed his brow, but the scholar buried within him leapt at the idea. The fervent tug in his chest finally lured him to take Pure Vanilla’s hand.
“Fine. But you'd better not just show me something boring.”
“I wouldn't dream of it.”