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The renowned Blueberry Yogurt Academy has been the subject of rumour since its inception. As its centennial rapidly approaches some of the older ones have begun to resurface once more. The biggest was about why the enigmatic Blueberry Milk had decided a small town, otherwise unremarkable, would be the best place to open a prestigious magic academy. Many have theorised, but every time someone asks the proclaimed ‘Sage of Truth’, he would smile and somehow manage to change the subject. Only to have the cookie who asked realise they’d never received an answer long after the talk had concluded. The most prevailing theory was because of the other major landmark in the area. An impossibly tall tower colloquially known as The Peak of Truth. Its true name had been washed away by the annals of time. The Sage was renowned for sending truth seekers to its Peak but, for as long as people could remember, almost all the petitioners have failed to reach the top of that tower. They speak of a cookie clad in dark robes with a look that could reduce even the cockiest of cookies into simpering cowards. The cookie simply went by the moniker Truthless Recluse.
Truthless Recluse felt a ripple in the air. A cookie has entered the space around the tower. He sighed, another truth seeker, damn the Sage for constantly sending them. The blond grabbed his staff and headed out to deter the latest fool sent here for nothing but disappointment. As he exited the tower he watched a cookie with a messenger bag approach. It was strange, he seemed different compared to the other truth seekers that tried to fight their way past him. He seemed nervous, fidgety, as if he didn’t want to be there.
“There is nothing for you here, you need to leave.” The cookie flinched at the Recluse’s cold tone.
“I-I’m not here for any trouble…” The cookie stuttered out, clearly intimidated. He reached into the messenger bag and pulled out… a letter? “I have a letter for someone named Pure Vanilla, I was told I could find him here.” Truthless Recluse scowled at the name. He hadn’t heard it in such a long time.
“There is no one here by that name, now leave.” It seemed the answer made the other cookie more agitated.
“Come on, there has to be! Look, can you just take it? Just pretend you’re this ‘Pure Vanilla’, please the Sage promised as long as I delivered the letter he’d give me enough extra credit to ensure I can stay at the academy! I really can’t afford to get kicked out, my parents would kill me!” His eyes widened a fraction. He hated how his heart sped up at the name. After so many years he thought he’d finally gotten over the other.
“Fine, drop the letter and then leave this place.” The courier seemed all too happy to do just that. They rushed out of sight before the letter had even touched the ground. The Recluse grabbed the letter and headed back inside before opening it. It wasn’t a letter at all, it was an invitation.
Dearest Pure Vanilla,
You are cordially invited to the centennial celebration of Blueberry Yogurt Academy! Hosted by the one and only Founder, Dean, and renowned Sage of Truth: Blueberry Milk.
We hope to see you in the academy’s ballroom as we celebrate such a momentous occasion.
It was a surprisingly simple invitation. The Blueberry Milk of his memory would have balked at something so boring, but it had been a long time since they’d seen each other. It would hardly be a shock for someone to stay the same as they had been thirty years ago. He certainly wasn’t the same cookie. After a moment of deliberation the blond walked over to his fireplace and threw the invitation into the roaring fire. His heart hurt as he watched it burn, but there was no other option. Truthless Recluse had closed that chapter of his life. He wasn’t keen on reopening old wounds.
A week of blissful silence followed, the invitation just another painful memory the Recluse locked away in the back of his mind. That was until one of the blueberry birds who flocked his tower appeared with another letter in its beak. The same fancy script with his former name cheerily looking back at him. He wasn’t surprised to see its contents.
Dearest Pure Vanilla,
You are cordially invited to the centennial celebration of Blueberry Yogurt Academy! Hosted by the one and only Founder, Dean, and renowned Sage of Truth: Blueberry Milk.
We hope to see you in the academy’s ballroom as we celebrate such a momentous occasion.
Unlike the first invitation though, this one had a hand written note attached to it.
My beloved Vanilla,
It's been so long since we last saw each other. It would bring me no greater joy than to celebrate such an important milestone with you. Isn’t it about time we finally put all of this behind us?
I’ll see you there.
Yours always,
Blueberry Milk
P.S: I know you burnt my last invitation. If you burn this one as well, I’ll simply find more creative ways to deliver them.
Truthless Recluse crumpled the note in irritation. Of course, he should have known the Sage would do something like this. If he wanted something there was nothing on Earthbread that would stop him from getting it. It seemed he had no other choice, but he did agree with one thing, it was about time they finally talked face to face. Maybe he could finally convince the other to stop sending people to the Peak.
The day of the anniversary arrived and the Recluse felt decidedly out of place. He decided that just because the Sage had been rather… insistent on his attendance, he wasn’t going to just capitulate. No, he had his own small little rebellion. Firstly, he hadn’t bothered to dress up for the event. Sticking with his usual dark robes, only forgoing the large cone hat. He also refused to show up on time. He knew he couldn’t be too late, knowing the Sage, he’d have probably created a portal underneath him and dropped him right in the centre of the ballroom, but he also didn’t want to be around such a large group of people. He’d been away from other cookies for so long being around so many was its own kind of torture. The downside to this plan was all eyes were on him the second he arrived. As he walked through the ballroom he could hear the whispers around him. Most of which were derisive.
“Isn’t that the strange cookie who tries to stop people reaching the peak?”
“What is he doing here? Doesn’t he know this is a private event? How did security even let him in!”
“Do you think he had an invitation?”
“Of course not! Who would ever invite someone so against the truth into these hallowed halls!” There were some comments he hadn’t expected though, the ones who remembered him.
“Isn’t that the old healing professor, Pure Vanilla?”
“I don’t think so… didn’t he die?”
“No, my mother was in his class, apparently he went mad and ran away… besides there’s no way it could be him, he’d be an elderly cookie at this point. It’s been decades since he was last seen.”
“Maybe he’s like the Sage, one of those ageless cookies.” Truthless Recluse felt himself shrink under all the attention. This was a mistake. He never should have left the Peak. Surely he could leave now, right? He’d made an appearance like the Sage had wanted, he never said how long he had to stay here. The rumours would be proof enough that he’d shown up. They’d reach the man soon enough. As he turned around to flee his hopes of avoiding the other were dashed.
“Vanilla! You came!” He cursed under his breath and turned around. The Sage looked… Radiant. A pristine white suit with gold trimming, the Sage’s trademark monocle gleaming in the light. His long starry hair tied back in an elegant pony tail. The Soul Jam pinned to his chest was the only other spot of colour, it tied the whole look together. The whispers were getting louder, the Recluse could feel the onset of a panic attack. It was as if the walls were closing in on him. Before he had a chance to run the Sage had grabbed his hand.
“Come and dance with me!” He wasn’t really given much of a choice as he was dragged into the centre of the ballroom. Everything was a blur, hazy and overwhelming. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. There were too many colours, too many voices, too many cookies. Just too much.
Too much
Too much
Too much
“You need to calm down my dear, don’t worry, nothing will happen to you. Not while I’m here. Tell me, my beloved Vanilla, what are three things you feel?”
“I…I feel your hands in mine, I feel my feet on the floor… feel the way my robes brush against me…” The Sage continued to run through the other grounding exercises until the blond could finally breath normally again. The first thing he realised was throughout his entire panic attack the Sage had been leading him through a flawless waltz. The Recluse had forgotten just how easy multi-tasking was for the other cookie. It made his traitorous heart flutter.
“Are you back with me, dearest Vanilla?” Truthless Recluse hid his face as best he could with his wide collar.
“Don’t call me that. It isn’t my name anymore…” As they were dancing he realised his staff was nowhere to be found.
“Where’s my staff?” The Sage laughed while leading the blond into a spin. When he brought the blond back up close again he spoke.
“Don’t worry, I put it in a safe place, I figured you didn’t need it while we were dancing dear Recluse.”
“What do you want, Sage? Why did you coerce me into coming here?” The blue cookie pouted.
“Must you use my title? Come on, use my name!” The recluse sighed. Had the Sage always been this insufferable or was that just something else that had changed since they’d last seen each other?
“What do you want, Blueberry Milk?” He grumbled, still not happy at the formality, but the disappointment was gone in an instant.
“Why to invite you back of course! You’re the best healer I’ve ever met! Our current professor of healing is good, but they’re nothing compared to you! You always made it look so effortless, and my students deserve the best.” The Recluse tried to pull away and leave, but the Sage kept a tight grip on him. Continuing their dance.
“I’m never coming back.” There was a tightness in the Sage’s smile now.
“Aren’t you being a bit dramatic? I thought you’d have gotten all of this out of your system by now.” Out of his system? He really had the audacity to say that?
“Out of my system?” Truthless Recluse let out an incredulous laugh. “Someone died, Blueberry!” This time he was about to pull himself away. “Or have you forgotten them already?” He sneered. His little outburst had everyone staring at them. That was enough, he had to get out of here. Relying only on his hazy vision, Truthless Recluse fought his way through the swaths of people, to the closest thing he could find to an exit. Unfortunately he ended up on a balcony. He swore. Now that the adrenaline had worn off the blond was tired. A feeling he was intimately familiar with. He’d been tired for so, so long.
Truthless Recluse wasn’t sure how long it had been, but the Sage appeared next to him. Resting his arms on the balcony railing.
“Unless you’re here to give me back my staff, go away.”
“Chamomile.” The blond looked over at the blob that was the Sage in shock. “That was her name. I do remember. I sent her up the Peak, she couldn’t handle the truth and jumped off the top of the tower. I lost two people that day. You were never the same after.” Just hearing her name hurt, it brought all the memories rushing back.
“She was my student… and I couldn’t save her.”
“I never wanted you to head to the top of the Peak, I knew you’d never be able to handle it.”
“I had to know. I had to know what she learnt that had been so cruel that she was unable to live with the knowledge.” The Recluse laughed bitterly. “I never expected the answer would be nothing.” He continued.
“I should have known something was wrong. Everyone that had gone to the Peak came back changed. Most of them for the worst.” The blond turned to look directly at the Sage.
“Why, why do you keep sending them up there? What do you gain from it?” His voice caught in his throat, the recluse’s emotions threatening to get the better of him. The Sage grabbed the blond’s hand once again, pulling him in again, gently swaying this time instead of a proper dance. The other let him, no strength to fight it.
“Because people deserve to know.” The Sage laughed. “I’m sure that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.”
“I’m never going to leave the Peak… No matter what you try to do or say, you’ll never convince me.” There was a sigh.
“I figured you’d say that. You’ve always been so stubborn, but just like you, I’m stubborn too. I’ll never stop trying to bring you back. One day you’ll accept the truth. You’ll accept that the seekers I send deserve to know…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Accept that you can’t save everyone, no matter how hard you try.” Despite everything, Truthless Recluse had missed this, being close to the man he still loved, regardless of their opposing views. The blond closed his eyes. He wanted to enjoy this, just for a little longer.
“I missed you…” That traitorous truth wasn’t meant to slip out. A kiss was pressed to his forehead.
“I missed you too.” That was too much. The Recluse pulled away. If he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep up his resolve.
“I need to get back to the Peak… and you need to get back to your party. Can you please return my staff?” He felt the nostalgic sensation of the Sage’s magic and suddenly the staff was back in his hand. It was just in time to see that insufferable smile he loved so much on the Sage.
“Maybe I’ll have to visit you, you know, to convince you to give up.” The Recluse allowed himself a small smile.
“I’d like that.”