Chapter Text
The forest was in silence. Neither was there a bird’s tweet drifting among the rays of quiet sun, nor was there any soft nibbling to mark a squirrel’s early breakfast. Not even the trees braved to sway little as they did in the wind; they stood there, eerily still, as if frozen in time. The once glorious flowers, queens of the woods, seemed to droop in on themselves more than ever. But what was unusual about this, for a gentle autumn morning straying into the clutch of winter?
A bunny’s fragile ears perked to the slowly approaching crinkle of footsteps; it seemed close to a crackling fire—soft, and warm, yet no hesitation and maybe a bit of solemnness resided in the noise. After a quick contemplation, the rabbit scampered off into the darkness, fading away into the soundlessness of the forest surrounding it.
White Lily Cookie’s dress drifted freely, leaning into the shivering wind, as it dragged across the freshly fallen leaves from the orange, yellow and red trees above. Her braid timidly reached down but landed just above the forest floor’s tempting peacefulness, refusing to get dirty after it had just so carefully been put into its shape. Whether White Lily noticed her appearance getting slightly muddy or not is unknown; yet, it seems unlikely, as she had her mind focused elsewhere. Or rather—on nothing at all.
It was in these mornings of silence that White Lily Cookie enjoyed going out on short strolls across the forest; some might say she likes to feel the freedom of the endless forest, some might argue that she just needed some time alone. But for whatever true reason it could be, White Lily Cookie always insisted it was just to “clear her mind.” And she had been practicing on doing just that—so it’s not like she was telling a lie. Just not the full truth. As much as she wanted to say it helped her get her mind off things and put her thoughts aside for once (as she did tell, but never truly meant it), White Lily never fully seemed to be able to have her mind blank for long before a certain topic would roll its way back around.
As much as she begged her mind to stray off the topic, to just enjoy the present and be alright with whatever the future holds, it always betrayed her to remind White Lily Cookie of all the horrible acts she’d committed as Dark Enchantress Cookie. And more specifically, what had and would come of them when she faced the consequences of her actions. Which, to her credit, she was doing—yet, of course, not everyone would immediately accept her apologies. She was well aware of this. She knew she did something so horrifically terrible that of COURSE people would be hesitant to jump to forgiveness. So why couldn’t she just spend some time waiting for others to make their choices without longing and indirectly begging for some kind of acceptance? Some kind of forgiveness? Some kind of selfish want for everything to return to normal; the way it had been before she saw what she saw. Before she fell into that damned dough and her mindset completely shifted. Before she became the monster that destroyed the lands of everything she and her friends had once cherished. The lands of—
White Lily Cookie snapped out of her thoughts are she caught a flash of blue in the corner of her eye. She bit back an expression of shock as a small blueberry bird glided carefully into view, flying gracefully out of the sheep-like sky. White Lily knew exactly what this meant, of course, yet she still couldn’t place why this was happening. She knew to expect letters from Pure Vanilla Cookie often; they kept in close contact after her… “rebirth,” if you will, but she still hadn’t sent a reply to his last letter yet (trying to place the words correctly out of her mind on to the page took a while—she was a bit of a slow writer), and Pure Vanilla was the most patient Cookie she knew of. So why was he sending another letter this soon? He wasn’t the type to be pushy, no, that was Hollyberry Cookie’s job.
Still, White Lily Cookie managed a small, gentle smile on her face as she carefully held out her arm for the delicate bird to perch on. In its beak was a white, glimmering envelope with a mark from the Vanilla Kingdom, identical to the many ones she had received before. But something about it was…off. The way the sigil was typically stamped into the direct middle of the envelope to hold it shut, White Lily knew, was usually handled with delicate but precise precision on Pure Vanilla Cookie’s end. Yet, this time, it was very off-center, and the words were facing upside-down diagonally. It looked as if it had been stamped in urgency rather than with the usual care Pure Vanilla put into everything. White Lily Cookie’s eyebrows knitted in soft concern.
She wouldn’t deny it, this morning had felt…a little unusual, in its own way. Originally, White Lily had simply brushed off and went back to (pretending like she wasn’t brooding over her past and a certain someone she affected) taking her peaceful morning walk, mis-categorizing the soundless sky as the animals preparing for their winter routines. Everything was fine. She was fine. She shouldn’t think about anything, this was the present, not the past. Yet…something still left a bit of tension in the air, and it wasn’t specifically her own thoughts causing this.
Drifting out of her hesitant trance, White Lily Cookie gently ruffled her delicate hand through the soft bird’s feathers, earning her a gentle but small tweet from the little creature. She swiftly put her hand out to catch the envelope the bird mindlessly dropped in its short daze and tucked it into the pocket of her robes, softly ingulfing it in her warmth and safety. After a few more tender pets, the bird pulled away carefully and jumped elegantly back into the winds and departed safely back to its Kingdom, leaving White Lily Cookie standing alone in the woods once again, left only with the burden of her thoughts.
She briskly wiped away the urge to continue saddening her mindset back into the dark days she (caused) experienced and sighed mindlessly for no one in particular to hear. Now wasn’t the time for that. She had more urgent things calling her name—specifically, Pure Vanilla Cookie’s letter.
While White Lily Cookie typically waited until she was carefully tucked into the corner of her peaceful quarters in the Faerie Kingdom to delicately unfold the piece of paper enclosed in the envelope with care, the lingering sense of importance this letter seemed to withhold made her believe it was better to open it sooner than later. Gently pulling the hesitant letter out of her pocket, she took a second of concern to stare at the unusual cover the envelope once again, a sense of urgency causing her to open the letter far quicker than normal (but still with delicate care), and as she swiftly unfolded the small piece of paper, her eyes grew and time seemed to stop for a simple second. Pure Vanilla’s handwriting was…very messy.
While one might simply brush it off or laugh at this, White Lily Cookie knew her childhood best friend far too well to let it go. Pure Vanilla Cookie had always had a knack for cursive, his gentle, slow hands carefully curving and twisting the letters into some sort of magical land of swirls and patterns while still retaining it to be perfectly readable for anyone’s eyes. Yet, here the letter stood before her, its writing messy, hasty, and even a tad bit hard to read. This was severely out of character for Pure Vanilla, and White Lily Cookie’s surprise quickly shifted into one of intense worries. Maybe even a soft bit of fear. What could’ve happened for Pure Vanilla to have to disrupt his routine so greatly and create a letter that looked like…this?
White Lily Cookie’s eyes seemed to fail her for a quick second, as visions of terrible occurrences flashed upon her view as if one of them could have happened to Pure Vanilla. No…I must leave these thoughts behind. I must read if my friend is genuinely in danger. White Lily snapped out of her haze and quickly jerked her head back to the letter. Her eyes scanned the page, growing wider and wider as she continued skimming the words. No…This couldn’t be…Could it?
-~*~-
Dear White Lily Cookie,
I apologize in advance for the state of this letter. You see, I am writing this in haste and cannot worry about my precision or accuracy at the moment. Something truly horrible has happened.
At first, I thought the news of a possible cure for the rare disease that has been haunting Cookies for centuries was wonderful news. Researchers in the Vanilla Kingdom managed to find something that tests shown stopped the spreading significantly in one’s body—though they were still figuring out how to get rid of it entirely, they were on a stellar path. They asked me personally to oversee it being used on a willing test subject, and while that’s not something I particularly enjoy partaking in, they were insistent, and it would’ve been rude to decline. So, that’s how I ended up in their lab, watching hesitantly as they carefully injected a serum into the Cookie’s body.
Yet, as the Cookie continued to lie there, they began to…. change. And not in the way you would think. They began to foam at the mouth, as if developing Raberries, and their eyes slowly grew bloodshot. I began to grow very uncomfortable with this, yet I was not the only one. The scientists began to shift around a lot more, writing things down and frowning. As I started to speak, something truly terrifying happened.
The Cookie pounced at the window, shattering the sugar glass and spreading it everywhere. Luckily, most of us were able to step back, but the damage was just beginning. The Cookie began to attack the Cookie they had landed on, spreading screams and jam everywhere. It was a truly horrific sight. As much as I wanted to stay and attempt to heal the cookie, I was jerked out of the place violently by a researcher who dragged me along and out of the building. As dismayed as I was, being unable to save the Cookie, the dismay grew to horror as, once we had evacuated the building, I saw the same Cookie that had been brutally murdered earlier. Except, they were up and about. Foaming at the mouth. Eyes popping out of their sockets and body soaked in jam. And the worst part is—they were incredibly fast.
I am now writing this in the castle where I have managed to flee to. I am sending this letter to all the ancients in warning. You must hide; you must stay safe. It is spreading, and I cannot stop it for long.
This may be the last you hear from me. I’m sorry.
Protect your people. Protect your kingdoms.
I must evacuate my Kingdom. I will try to contain the Un-Bread for as long as I can.
Good luck. Thank you for everything.
Your friend,
Pure Vanilla Cookie
-~*~-
Gasping for air, White Lily Cookie’s hands trembled, dropping the letter and the envelope onto the muddy floor, the gleaming haunting her as she stared nowhere and everywhere all at once. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of her dear friend. How scared he must be in this situation. How he could possibly be hurt. How he could be…No. She can’t hesitate right now. She must get back to the Faerie Kingdom. She must warn the others. She must do that now. They must put up defenses before the…Un-Bread, he called them, reached Beast-Yeast. She must protect them…She must…
Wait.
Wait.
Pure Vanilla Cookie’s letters always take multiple days to arrive. That means…
A vile shriek sounded from way off in the distance, the wind blowing it through the air and ruffling White Lily’s braid. No. No…NO.
Immediately, White Lily turned on her heels, sprinting as fast as she could over the fallen leaves and slipping slightly on the muddy ground weakened by the rain. Her magic flared as she shot herself forward, running faster than she ever had before, her eyes bright with determination, with courage, with…fear. As she whirled and rounded the corner, White Lily Cookie stopped straight in her tracks. No…It couldn’t be. After everything she had gone through to protect this kingdom…
Faeries ran screaming everywhere. Cookies, jam-covered, skin faded slightly red due to this, pounced from the treetops, from the shadows, from everywhere onto these poor souls, taking them down and with them to the Un-Bread side. White Lily gasped, tears caught in her eyes and sobs begging to escape from her throat. Her feet moved on autopilot—she dashed forward, using her magic, throwing the Un-Bread to the side. So much was happening. So many of the Faeries were corrupted. She couldn’t tell which was which. The world was spinning around her, she couldn’t catch up, she couldn’t save them, she couldn’t do anything.
She couldn’t do anything.
…
At least the tree was still protected, White Lily Cookie thought to herself. She didn’t know how many Faeries were still out there, alive, but if there were any, she would find them. She would help them, save them, protect them. It was her duty. Her duty she had failed. And now…she stood, staring at the ruins of her once beautiful home. No one was in sight. No Un-Bread, no Faeries, no anybody. It was just her. White Lily and her tears, stuck on her knees in the ruins of her kingdom she had failed to protect. So much had happened during the battle, but now it was over. It was all gone. She had been too late.
…So, this is my fate, isn’t it? To reach the same karma as those I hurt. This situation is just like what I did to…her. The universe is giving me what I deserve. I deserve this. This was all my fault. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I was gone when they all came. And…
…
I’m sorry, Golden Cheese Cookie.
-~*~-
Golden Cheese Cookie lay down on her bed, taking in the morning sunlight in her freshly built quarters. The curtains twitched slightly in the hot dessert wind; formerly shielded by glass, they seemed rather excited to have a chance to blow into the glorious room, exploring this new sight filled with treasures and greed. Like a cheesebird meeting her mighty radiance for the first time, Golden Cheese was ecstatic; albeit early in the morning, she was very satisfied with her progress in rebuilding her empire and loved all the treasures being found early in the sand. She was thinking about all the glittering gold uncovered, hidden under the ashes. Or…well, she should’ve been.
Instead, the Cookie was a bit distracted by other things at the moment, her mood tending to lean more towards bitter resentment and mourning of what once was. Everything found below the ashes of her fallen kingdom, the gold, bits of statues, perhaps a small jewel here and there, was not even close to what it once was. What it could have been if not for the war. She hated thinking about it, about all that she lost, but she hated ignoring it. She couldn’t ignore it. Yet, deep, very deep inside, tucked away from the prying eyes of the world stood a section of her filled with ugly sadness. Betrayal. How could she? After everything they had done for her? After they had built such strong friendships?
“Your Radiance, mizz! You have a letter!”
The chirp of one of her loyal cheesebirds broke the tense silence, echoing throughout the room and breaking Golden Cheese Cookie from her trance. She sat up swiftly, stretched, and then smoothly shifted her legs over the side of her bed. “One moment,” she called, flapping upwards and brushing off her clothing. She had already gotten dressed early in the rising daylight, but she had decided to lay down and think for a little bit. This behavior was unlike her, but Golden Cheese needed some time to…well, brood a little. Her legs were almost entirely asleep, due to the position she had ended up in, so she hovered slightly over the floor and glided over to the door.
“Good morning, Your Radiance!” The cheesebird chirped again, bowing slightly in her presence, seemingly bouncing with excitement to have such a pleasure. Golden Cheese waved to signal they could sit upright. She stood proud and beamed bright, booming, “Good morning, my loyal worker,” the cheesebird proceeded to blush a little bit with this statement, “you said you had a letter for me?”
“Yez, Your Radiance, mizz!” they replied cheerfully, pecking into their bag gently to bring out a letter with care (that still ended up lopsided in their grasp). Golden Cheese Cookie nimbly swiped the letter out of the cheesebird’s beak, gratefully thanking them before they took off and headed to work elsewhere. Golden Cheese slipped back into the comfort of her quarters, sitting tall on her golden throne (that was surprisingly comfortable), yet, before even inspecting the glittering envelope much, she immediately noticed the Vanilla Kingdom sigil stamped to the front—which, ironically, was lopsided as well. Golden Cheese sighed, figuring that Pure Vanilla Cookie must’ve stayed up all night reading again before he wrote the letter and stamped it to be sent off. Typical Pure Vanilla, she supposed. She did enjoy how it glistened, though, at least there was that. (Especially since it belonged to her now.)
Golden Cheese Cookie hadn’t received word from Pure Vanilla Cookie in a while. They were still friends, but each had their own duties to fulfill and things to upheld, especially since she heard in the local gossip chain between kingdoms that the Vanilla Kingdom was close to uncovering a cure for a brutal disease, which seemed like honest work; additionally, Golden Cheese was very busy with rebuilding herself. Roughly tearing open the top of the envelope, Golden Cheese Cookie unfolded the paper hastily, expecting a check-up letter or perhaps even an invitation. She was met with a little surprise as she discovered the state of the letter—Pure Vanilla must’ve been tired. She’d never seen him write as chaotically as this. In her reply, she mentally noted to let him know to take a break. (Sure seemed like he needed one. Don’t they all?)
-~*~-
Golden Cheese Cookie frantically dashed out of her room, taking time to remain steady and proud in her steps, though her mind was anything but. The letter Pure Vanilla Cookie had sent meant pure trouble. The way he described the Un-Bread…It brought shivers to her spine. It brought back memories…and she wasn’t about to let her fresh kingdom be destroyed. No. Not again. Never again.
Swiftly zooming around a corner, Golden Cheese Cookie searched with her keen eyes until she finally caught a glimpse of a cheesebird. Good. She needed help with spreading the word. “Oh, Your Radiance, would you like to review—” the bright bird twittered, but Golden Cheese Cookie didn’t have the time to listen; quickly, with urgency in her voice, she cut them off, “Listen to me. There’s a disease that’s spreading fast, making Cookies act violent. I need you to gather the other cheesebirds and stay insi—”
Suddenly, rudely interrupting the gleaming queen, there was a loud, continuous squeak. It sounded like a tea kettle had just gone off—but, from experience (and from worry), Golden Cheese immediately recognized it as a cheesebird’s yelp instead. It came flapping around the corner, terror in its eyes. “YOUR RADIANCE! ZOMETHING’Z HERE! IT’Z BREACHED THE WALLZ!” it squawked, flying up in down in a panic. Golden Cheese flipped from the sight to the original cheesebird. Hesitance wouldn’t help here. She had to make a rash decision. Although, that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“Scratch that,” she rapped, changing her plan entirely. “You’re not safe here. This kingdom hasn’t been built enough to support an attack.” She sighed, as if regretting what she was about to say next. “You need to gather the other cheesebirds and evacuate. No matter what, don’t come back. If they’ve breached the walls, then it’s no longer safe here, not now, and not for a while if they continue to roam.” Maybe not ever again. “Fly to the end of the horizon, up in the peaks of sand where they can’t reach you. Take the soulcheese with you and protect it at all costs. Remember to stay hopeful. I will clear out these lands for you and tell you when it’s safe to return,” Golden Cheese cookie urged, and started gliding roughly in the direction the cheesebird had flown in from. “Wait! Your Radiance! What about you?!” Golden Cheese peeked around, her head smiling proudly and bravely at the cheesebirds. She twirled her spear in her hands. “I’m going to divert the Un-Bread’s attention. I will make sure they leave this kingdom alone. Don’t forget me, my dear subjects. I will return to you when it’s clear.” And then, with a flash of her wings, she was gone.