Chapter Text
1.
The first time they met, Elder Faerie was reluctant.
A cookie, an outsider nonetheless, who stepped through the fog veil protecting his kingdom. A determined stance Elder Faerie will never forget, his armor shimmering among the dim lights of the moon and the spores. The Faeries hid behind their veil of mist, their wings trembling, wary of the approach of an unexpected seeker.
The cookie seeking the Faerie Kingdom was no ordinary cookie. He came to their land with only his sword and his dark steed, his face obscured by a silver helmet and his dough hidden by white robes. This knight, whose cape floated faintly above the ground like a cloth forever lifted by a silent breeze, was no other than the Salt of Solidarity.
The Faeries did not have their veil for no reason. They were not fond of outsiders. It was what kept them safe all these years, away from the wars outside their domain. They preferred to keep their distance from the Divine Emissaries ruling the rest of Beast-Yeast.
But The Salt of Solidarity, alone?
Elder Faerie rushed to the gates the moment his Knights brought a description of the outsider.
“State your purpose." Elder Faerie commanded, standing courageous before his trembling subjects. He put an arm in front of them, shielding them from a possible attack. The Salt of Solidarity might be known for the generous hand he extended toward the suffering, but that did not erase his powerful (and intimidating) nature.
The Salt of Solidarity remained silent for a moment before answering.
“I wish to speak with you, Elder Faerie Cookie.” He spoke, voice deep and mighty, capable of commanding thousands of legions. And yet, Elder Faerie still noticed a small tremble. “Alone.”
The littler Faeries shrank back, the older Faeries put their hands on their weapons. Elder Faerie did not move. He simply stared at the outsider, the mighty commander of the Kala Namak Knights.
He wondered. Why was this cookie here? What could he possibly want to speak to Elder Faerie for? His kingdom was in no need of help. They were thriving under the protection of their fog veil, the dangers of the outside world had not threatened them for eons. And yet, this cookie, one of the five Divine Emissaries, whose power resembled that of the gods, came searching for them.
By himself, at that. Not even sending a messenger, nor bringing assistance—no, this was the mighty Salt of Solidarity, in the dough, with no comrades to accompany him.
“Do tell, Salt of Solidarity,” Elder Faerie spoke, taking a steady step forward. “Why should we trust you?”
It seemed this cookie preferred to think in long silences before answering.
“That, I do not know.” Said the knight, putting his blade in the holster. “But I come for the good of Cookiekind. I need your help and knowledge, Elder Faerie Cookie.”
Elder Faerie was about to reply, with something that slipped his mind the second the knight made his next move.
He kneeled before the Faeries. It was almost a fall, as if his legs were about to give out—it must’ve been a tough journey. He knelt with one knee on the ground and his arm resting on the other, a well-known sign of devotion. The knight bowed his head, and looked back up.
“Please, Your Majesty.”
The faeries were left speechless.
“Very well.” Elder Faerie bowed back, a small nod of the head if anything. “Head knight, ensure every faerie returns to their post. Salt of Solidarity, you may follow me.”
The faeries looked at him with doubt, but he gave them a small smile. They would be fine. From the stories he had heard, this commander was a proper knight.
And if he spoke the truth, he was in need of help. The faeries would never deny a desperate cookie help.
He took the Salt Knight through his kingdom. Not many faeries were awake, as the moon was still up high and the sky was still dark as ever. Glowing moths illuminated the path to Elder Faerie’s palace, fluttering on the sides and daring to cross the path every now and then. On occasion, Elder Faerie liked simply sitting down and watching them.
He stopped in the throne room, standing before on the royally decorated silver chair. Inscriptions of music and tales old as time, sacred imagery and faerie history. The knight stayed near the exit, almost hesitant to set foot on the silver tiles. Elder Faerie beckoned him forward.
“The Divine Emissaries are corrupting.”
The knight’s words took Elder Faerie by surprise. Out of all the problems he had been expecting—hungry cookies, a nearby war, a dangerous ailment—it was not the downfall of the five who ruled Beast-yeast.
Likely seeing the frown on the faerie’s head, the Salt of Solidarity continued. “I am not sure yet. But something is wrong, and I want to make sure there is a backup plan ready.”
“Continue.”
The knight took a deep breath. “A tree to grow new Virtues.”
-
They spoke for another hour. The Kala Namak knight spoke of unusual incidents happening in the Virtues’ domains, how some subjects were losing the element they stood for. How he hadn’t spoken to his fellow Divinities in an abnormally long time, how he, the knight, had to search for them every time.
Elder Faerie felt a tinge of pity, even if the cookie spoke without misery. Though, most of all, he frowned with concern.
If the Virtues—bestowed with godlike power by the creators themselves—were to fall from grace, the damage would be vast. Lethal, even. They were cornerstones of this continent.
“We both wish the best for cookiekind,” The Salt Knight had said. “So let us work together to create a solution.”
And Elder Faerie had agreed. Whether it was the genuine concern Elder Faerie had for their continent, or the determined tone of voice the knight had put up, or Elder Faerie’s selfish curiosity for this mysterious commander—he agreed to share his knowledge with the Salt of Solidarity, so long as they kept it a secret.
After their talk, the knight got ready to leave again. But there was something Elder Faerie noticed— a tremble in his legs when he walked, his steps less steady than those of the king. He was tired, Elder Faerie concluded, and so before the knight could walk out the throne room, Elder Faerie halted him with a hand on his armored shoulder.
“You look tired.” He spoke, watching the knight carefully as he turned back around. “The journey is rough. You should rest, Salt knight. Let the Faerie Kingdom be your host for the night.”
He was met with silence, and an almost unnoticeable tilt of the head.
“I do not want to burden your Kingdom with my presence. I attract danger.”
“I insist.”
The knight relaxed his shoulders, bowing his head once more.
“... As you wish, Your Majesty.”
-
He personally escorted the knight to a room within the palace. And even within the room, the cookie did not take his helmet off. Elder Faerie found it odd, but did not question him. Some cookies preferred their face not to be seen.
Elder Faerie could not help his interest piquing when speaking to the knight. Not for the matters he spoke of, but rather the knight himself. This knight, who was most often seen commanding his legions, helping the unfortunate, or delivering justice across Beast-yeast, was never seen alone. He travelled with his army, whether that be two soldiers or the entirety of the Kala Namak knights. Never alone.
He wondered. What mysteries did this knight hold? What did all the armor, the cape, the helmet hide? What lay beneath his voice, what was his ultimate goal?
Elder Faerie kept these questions to himself. It was awfully impolite to ask things like that right off the bat. Answers to these secrets would likely find him soon, anyway. If the knight meant what he had said, they would be seeing each other more than once.
In the morning, as the rays of sunlight barely shone through the thick leaves, the Salt knight was already preparing his steed. Elder Faerie ordered his knights to bring him rations for the journey, as well as a more substantial meal to be eaten within the kingdom. It was a faerie custom for guests to at least eat one piece of food from their making, and no, that would not give the faeries their soul. It was simply polite. Keeping guests hungry was just rude.
“Thank you for having me, Elder Faerie Cookie.” The Salt of Solidarity spoke, stepping onto his dark stallion. They stood at the gates, silver shimmering as the sun hit its surface. The moths no longer fluttered around, and instead, the forest was lit by butterflies and loose spores.
“It is an honor.”
The knight sat on his horse, proud and mighty, with a silent power radiating from his mere presence. Elder Faerie was not afraid. This cookie spoke with such sincerity, such conviction. He was noble, much unlike many of the intruders the Faerie Kingdom had faced before. Greedy cookies whose pride beckoned them to steal from the Faeries, ill-meaning liars intending to trick their way into destroying the kingdom from the inside out, lazy travellers who hoped to stay in the kingdom for eternity without a price, destructive and violent cookies who aimed to destroy their well-crafted order.
The Faerie Kingdom did not allow outsiders in very often, but maybe this warrior was not so bad.