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Days had passed, weeks, perhaps even months. Elder Faerie couldn’t quite tell anymore, the passage of time felt like a daze ever since that fateful night. Oftentimes, he found himself wandering about the Faerie Kingdom, too much time on his hands, never truly able to escape the towering Silver Tree, his pride and joy. And his greatest regret. The tree, in all its promising glory, stood ever strong the new symbol of the Faerie Kingdom. A symbol of a newer, brighter future. And a reminder of those lost. His mission, as sworn, to protect it. To protect Cookiekind at all costs. That’s what he wanted, and Elder Faerie was certain to stick to that promise, so long as he lived. New virtues would be born, and the future of Beast-Yeast and the cookie world will be rightfully hopeful and optimistic once more. Peaceful, without doubt.
Still, there was another promise left unfulfilled.
‘…Your noble intentions will never be forgotten.’
His own words rang through his earcings every time he passed by the tree, the silver tree, the silver lining. Ocularia stared back at him. Silent, waiting. If this is what they both wanted, why did he feel so… Lost, he supposed was the correct term. A welling of emotions he couldn’t quite grasp and had no certain name. Lost didn’t cover it. There was a nagging, an ache, like something was missing. Something was indeed missing, but he knew better than to be selfish. He had a duty to uphold, after all. The beast-binding ritual still echoed in the distant corridors of his mind, his voice alongside Silence, handling primordial magic no cookie had ever dared touch before. Power beyond mere dough, power of the Witches.
Now, as he sat beneath the barren branches of the Silver Seal Tree, the faint glow illuminating his weary dough, gently grazing his robes, he reminisced such things. The twisted past, the new tale of intervention of the Witches, rather than heroism from a single cookie. Solidarity. What a simple concept, perhaps too ideal to put into practice. Absolute power in the hands of those who didn’t even request it from the beginning. In the hands of… Children.
‘Cursed BEASTS!’
His old friend certainly hadn’t been wrong. Though, under the guise of a silent night, he couldn’t help but wonder if they were doing the right thing now. Of course, with no way back there was now no other option. Still, he couldn’t help but indulge in the idea of an idealistic world. No matter how ridiculous it seemed, the slight comfort it brought his lonesome soul was plentiful. The revised version of the events didn’t seem… Satisfactory enough to him. Elder Faerie didn’t quite feel as though he was honouring his friend, rather lumping him in with the group he’d grown to despise at the very end. It was almost poetic, which left a sour flavour on his tongue. So, as was the faerie custom, he composed a song, one that would tell the true tale. A tale of a virtuous knight who lost everything. A knight and commander he missed dearly. A faint tune came to mind, a melody so bittersweet, so delicate yet mournful. He could picture the faerie choir performing it, voices combined in unison, voices breaking under the weight of tragedy.
No, this would never be a piece sung by the choir. This would be one just for himself. If Elder Faerie was to indulge just once, this was to be his singular selfish desire. He longed for something just between them, the butterfly and the salt, the flower and the moon. Yes, this was to be a ballad only he could tell, only the two of them could read.
Many drafts had passed before he finally settled on one he was content with, one that matched with the tune in his head and his heart. One that he could imagine being told beneath the moonlight, within their favourite field of lilies amongst the trees, deep in the faerie forest. The place where he always met the other. Constantly, Elder Faerie would come across his dear friend’s valiant steed before ever catching sight of the enamouring figure. The Salt of Solidarity, always close behind, appearing from amongst the foliage to greet him warmly. A cookie of very few words he was, which made each uttered word all the more special to the faerie. Every calm, smooth syllable leaving him completely unarmed - no wonder the cookies of Beast-Yeast practically worshipped him, the almighty Salt of Solidarity, he was one of the purest intents.
‘It is my final wish. To put the world, tainted by their hands, to rights.’
A mere recollection of those words snapped him out of his sweeter memories, bringing him back to the present sat beneath the silver tree, clutching the parchment in his trembling hands. A cool breeze brushed over him while he collected himself briefly, then looked up to the moon. With a faint smile, Elder Faerie began to read the words he’d engraved on the paper, praying to the Witches for any possibility of Silent Salt to be listening.
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Once upon a time, Virtues ruled the land:
Founts of Knowledge, Givers of Volition,
Bringers of Happiness, Heralds of Change.
Mine, Commander of Solidarity.
Disaster struck: Virtues changed, grew corrupt.
Clowns of Deceit, Masters of Apathy,
Angels of Sloth, Reasons for Destruction.
Knight of Silence, sins unknown tainted souls.
A Guardian, one single tree, final hope.
Kneel before me, O tainted silent soul
Sword bound by chains strung with regret and pain.
Come, a new day awaits, O Silent Knight.
On silvery branches, new Virtues bloom,
Perfect fruits. Dear old friend, does danger loom?
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Naturally, Elder Faerie knew the other wouldn’t understand a single word. The language of the faeries was an ancient one, not something he’d gotten around to teaching Silent Salt, as much as he would’ve loved to. Had they had the time, and neither of them been so busy, perhaps this ballad could've truly been for the two of them. Now it was only for one, the flower left in the sunlight, longing for the moon to return. Moonflower. That had been the Salt of Solidarity's favourite nickname for the faerie, though he had little clue why, he found it endearing nonetheless. He shall not indulge in shallow desires, trivial longings. Elder Faerie Cookie, the Guardian of the Silver Tree. What a lofty title, do none recall that any dessert is just a dessert? Himself, the Salt of Solidarity. Were they both not just two cookies? By the Witches, even the old Virtues had been just that: a batch of cookies. What gave the Witches the right to decide which cookies to bestow their power? To act in their stead? If all cookies were to be baked the same, what gave only a certain batch Divine Right? Pray tell, could a mere cookie stand before their Godly Creators? Could they usurp them?
He paused, then shook his head. What atrocious thoughts. He had no time to ponder blasphemy, no time to linger on his remaining regrets, his sour longings or sweet comforts. His life for his mission, no more, no less. For the good of Cookiekind.
And yet, this moment eventually grew into habit. As busy as the faerie was, he'd always find snippets of quiet to sit beneath the tree and hum the tune to himself. The song never saw the light of day, ever a solo performance under the starry night sky. Private moments like these were rare, though things he cherished dearly whenever granted the intimate peace. He watched day by day as the tree grew stronger, branched further, silvery twigs twisting and contorting to form five new shapes, five new Soul Jams. The new Virtues lay there, their soul jams a symbol of hope for the new world, the direct antithesis of those corrupt beings cookies of Beast-Yeast once revered. Truth, Resolution, Passion, Abundance, and Freedom. How would these five cookies fare compared to those before them? None could predict the future, though he prayed for history never to repeat itself, for his and Solidarity's wish to be finally granted. Elder Faerie spoke of these hopes and fears to the tree occasionally, imagining his former friend right before him, listening on patiently. An unwavering support, as the Salt of Solidarity always was for all cookies.
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"Even tainted by Silence, had things really ever changed, Silent Salt Cookie?" He mumbled to the tree one day, the gash in the trunk that had begun forming over time, the result of numerous cookies and other beings attempting to covet the power the Silver Tree held within. Slowly, he traced the cracks spreading through the lustrous bark, feeling the sheer power that radiated from within. "We must prevent another calamity from occurring, and though I hold faith in the rumours of the Ancient heroes of another continent... I imagine the tree would be far healthier, had you remained by my side."
Faint fluttering of wings and clattering of amour dragged him back to reality, and the faerie swiftly pulled back from the tree, taking up his sword once more. From beyond glittering silver arches and dense vegetation emerged his two most trusted knights: Mercurial Knight Cookie, and an injured Silverbell Cookie, tailed by a cookie he'd never seen before, one with flowing white icing, braided like a flower's vine - and a staff that resembled the lilies within the field, deep in the Faeriewood. His heart stopped. Why, he almost crumbled then and there. "Your majesty." Both cookies greeted with a courteous bow, while the mysterious maiden remained behind, glancing around curiously, seemingly eager to take in her new surroundings. Mercurial Knight, as ever, was the first to straighten and report on the status quo outside the kingdom, "The Faerie Kingdom border is secure, Your Highness. Unfortunately, I cannot report the same of Silverbell Cookie."
The smaller one, dowsed in the purest white and lined with silver bells, finally straightened as well, "...I was close to crumbling, Your Highness," He explained, "The other knights had to focus on protecting you and our kingdom. Most of all, the Silver Tree of course! That's when I met this green traveller." Silver bells jingled softly as the cookie gestured behind himself with his bow, "She treated my wounds, on the condition I brought her here. I understand it's against the rules and all... But she says she has the same goal as us, Your Highness: to protect Cookiekind!"
Truth be told, Elder Faerie found himself hardly listening, as much as he tried to will himself to do so. Rather, he was caught by an immense sense of deja vu, which left him utterly disarmed, quite like he'd been the first time the Commander had visited. He remained silent as he considered, planting the tip of his sword into the dirt, deciding to return the lack of hostility. This was one of the Ancient Heroes he'd heard of, from another continent. That decoration upon her staff was no mere decoration - it had to be the Soul Jam of Freedom. Thus, this was his successor. "...If Silverbell Cookie's words are indeed true, then our goals do align." He eventually began, "Forgive me, our greetings would have been far more appropriate, had you caught us at a more pleasant occasion." The faerie placed a hand to his chest, giving the wanderer a bow. "Allow me to thank you on the behalf of the faeries for healing Silverbell Cookie, however."
"Truly, it was nothing...!" The green traveller quickly brushed off, "Rather, I've travelled to Beast-Yeast specifically to come here... I wish to seek out the truth on how we, Cookies, first came to be."
"I see." Elder Faerie straightened, "..As much as I would love to aid your cause, I fear I do not possess such knowledge. The records in the Faerie Library may hold some information. However, it may be in your best interest to return at a later point - as mentioned before, we are in quite the precarious time currently, we would never want that to hinder your research."
The other tilted her head, eyecings turning between him, Mercurial Knight Cookie, Silverbell Cookie, and the other Faerie Cookies. Finally, they landed on the Silver Tree, particularly the growing wound it harboured. "Precarious time?"
There was a beat, before Elder Faerie sighed deeply and began explaining their current predicament. He explained the tale of the Beasts - the revised version - how the Silver Tree housed each like a bunch of caged Cake Hounds. Without the Silver Tree, the Beasts would be unleashed, and all terror would reign all throughout the World of Desserts, starting with Beast-Yeast, out to continents beyond. The Great Calamity, he called it. Had for a while, and had accepted for many years before that that it was his duty to prevent such an event from taking place. The future of Cookiekind was at stake, riding on the fate of a singular tree planted within the Faerie Kingdom. Many Cookies and other desserts desired the power that was bound within the tree, which led to many attempted attacks on the Faerie Kingdom and meddling with the tree. With a somewhat weakened tree, the Beasts have taken their chance, if they were to escape, devastation would strike.
Upon hearing the tale, the green wanderer seemed concerned, thoughtful. Then, without hesitation, "I can help."
Elder Faerie staggered briefly. This... Stranger, he supposed. This scene in itself felt all so familiar, so much like the Commander he remembered from all those years ago. The same selfless Cookie, who rushed into anything for the sake of others, for the betterment of the Cookie world. For Solidarity. He quickly brushed those thoughts aside and focused on the battle, fighting alongside his knights and this Ancient Hero - whose style felt so very reminiscent of older times. The battle was grand, as many would call it, resulting in a dramatic victory - the green traveller using her magic alongside his own to cast a spell that bound the rift with vines, supporting the Silver Tree, preventing calamity. Many a Cookie was lost, however, many knights crumbled for the sake of Cookiekind. With that in mind, however, their losses were never in vain, celebration was in order. Grand feasts lasted for months on end in the name of White Lily Cookie, the outsider who'd simultaneously saved the Faerie Kingdom, the Silver Tree, and the entirety of the Dessert World. He oftentimes found White Lily Cookie missing from the celebrations, imagined it was a part of her reclusive intellectual nature. She was a quick learner, swift to grasp the ancient sheet music that Faeries recorded history in, he could hardly picture anything standing in her way when it came to her research. And while he did his best to aid the best he could, the faerie felt a constant tug, like he should be trying harder to prevent what would ultimately come about from this journey.
He made such a mistake before, it would bring shame upon his soul to be so foolish for a second time.
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Alas, he knew there was little that could be done.
Stubborn Cookies, unwavering Virtues.
The Night of the Witches arrived, as he'd been dreading. The singular night where Witches from near and far gathered all at once around a table for their banquet, baking Cookies. The ceremony that happened once every 1,000 years. White Lily Cookie would not wait another 1,000 years, that much he knew, not when the answer she had been seeking for her entire life was now at an arm's length. It did no harm to try though, no? Approaching Faeriewood, in the depths of the night, he restlessly turned the moonstone over in his palm repeatedly. While it felt unworthy, unsatisfactory, it was all he could possibly do. He couldn't possibly lose another; he wasn't quite certain what he'd do with himself if he'd helplessly failed once more.
"Your Majesty...!"
The voice of White Lily Cookie shattered his trance, and he stopped in his steps, acting as though he'd coincidentally stumbled upon her here in the forest. The Faerie King bit his tongue, almost hard enough to draw jam, stood frozen staring at his kingdom's saviour, the one who looked and acted and sounded so very much like the one he'd failed. Dear old friend, does danger loom? The final line in the ballad he'd written, the true tale of the Salt of Solidarity. Danger certainly loomed, right here and now, if only she could see the benefit of staying right here, by his side. The World of Desserts would face no risk if she merely guarded the tree with him. Feasting amongst the Godly Creators at their banquet was too steep a gamble, he was certain no benefit would come from it. Yet, here he was, forced to swallow his pride once more, faced with another cursed to be a sinner for all of eternity.
"...White Lily Cookie?" He finally answered, his voice low while his hand tightened on the moonstone, "Are you leaving our kingdom...?" Of course, he knew the answer, he knew exactly where she was headed. Perhaps he hoped for her to answer differently. When he was met with no response, he tried again, "... You are... headed to the Witches' banquet, yes?"
"...So you know."
"I am well aware... that I am unable to stop you."
"...In that case, please step aside."
'... Then end my life by your hand. For I have lost my Virtue.'
Elder Faerie sucked in a breath, and decided once more to dig his heels into the dirt, reminding White Lily of all the possible dangers that laid before her. Most importantly, how integral her survival was to the peace and balance of Cookiekind. Though, all in all, he knew there was nothing he could do to force her to remain. He'd forever be the waiting, the static figure, the one constant to this world. For the good of Cookiekind, he reminded himself over and over. All until he met White Lily's gaze once again as she spoke, his unwavering defences crumbling as he was met instead with the image of the Salt of Solidarity, turned Silent Salt Cookie. The tilt of his head, the armour stained with jam and crumbs, his desperation and certainty. What a cruel existence.
"Yet, that is not the only way." He sighed, one final attempt at bargaining. "Such a world can be built here. If you stay here and guard the Silver Tree with me, that is." He paused, swallowed hard,
"So please... stay."
He'd never sounded so... Vulnerable like this throughout the entirety of his long lifetime. As unbecoming as it was for a King, the Guardian of the Silver Tree, he couldn't just stand by idly and let this happen once again. He couldn't let the second one go. For the good of Cookiekind, yes. That's what he reminded himself one final time, as if trying to convince himself. It'd always been for the good of Cookiekind, had it not?
"...I'm sorry."
His dough slowly tensed up at that response, a weight he was ever so familiar with settling on his soul once again. After all, this was the outcome he expected, it was too indulgent of him to believe he could've possibly changed either of their minds. So, he'd wait. As he always does. He'd perform his duty and pray for the wellbeing of Solidarity - both Silence and Freedom.
"...I see there is no stopping you." He finally concluded, now revealing the piece of moonstone, "Please, take this. It's a piece of Moonstone..."
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O Silent Knight, can you hear me calling?
I come bearing a new tale to tell you.
O Silent Knight, our dream is now falling.
Dream a dream, to rebuild our world anew.
O Green Wanderer, though lacking in wings,
Everywhere you tread, Bringer of Dawn,
The silver Faerie bell glimmers and rings
For you. However, with loss, time to mourn.
You returned from the banquet, that cold night
Dough still, silent breaths signify the rest
Throughout the land is scattered your sacred light
Not changed, rather split in two, who would have guessed?
Your branch on the silver tree glows faintly,
Freedom and Silence, two in one, not saintly.
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Greeted with a subtle nudging, Silent Salt slowly opened his eyecings, the world around him becoming clearer with each slow blink. The familiar environment of the Faerie Kingdom brought him to his senses once more, and he dragged himself up, leaning heavily upon his blade. Once he was up, Nox nudged him again, clearly agitated, forcing him to turn and face the reality behind him. The Silver Seal Tree still stood, strong and sturdy as ever, the light of the new Virtues glinting within the five branches. And still... An enormous rift split the trunk almost straight in half. While he certainly should've been more concerned about the state of the Dessert World right now, the first thought that crossed his mind was that of Elder Faerie Cookie's wellbeing. He needed to find the Faerie King, needed to ensure the final one he'd left behind hadn't also cruelly been stripped from his grasp. Atop Nox, he frantically went around the Faerie Kingdom, along silver steps, silver-lined bridges, through streams of neatly contained water until he found a faerie willing enough to show him to Elder Faerie. Instead of the King's chambers, like he'd desperately hoped for, he was brought deep into Faeriewood, into the oh-so-familiar clearing of lilies. Right in the centre, where moonlight poured through the gap like a spotlight, laid a grand headstone, beside it laid Elder Faerie's sword, the ornate weapon poking out of the dirt. Surrounding the grave was a multitude of candles, wreathes of all kinds of flowers, ones that bloomed specifically in the throes of midnight. And a bouquet of white lilies laying solitary on top of the headstone.
After dismounting, he carefully approached the grave.
Two wreaths sat propped against the cool stone, pieces of paper carefully laced between the flowers. Silent Salt crouched down, his armour creaking slightly, and plucked the pieces of paper out of the wreaths, taking a moment before opening each one. Upon the paper laid the ancient sheet music in which Faeries recorded information and their history. He'd never got around to learning it, but these two specific sheets had to be important to be placed upon his grave. Perhaps they were ones penned by Elder Faerie himself. He'd never know.
Hands slowly curled into fists, the paper crumpling under his grip. He didn't have the will to bother another faerie and force them to translate the music for him, it felt as though he'd overstep a boundary by doing so, disrespect his old friend's wishes. Wishes he didn't exactly know, and found himself not wanting to know. The silence spoke for itself.
'Enough. Tis not time for despair yet.'
Those words rung through his helm, and he supposed they applied now. Their dream was merely a dream after all, an ideology. He had a new duty to fulfil.
He'd personally see to it that these new 'Virtues' were worthy.
That these 'Beasts' will be sealed once more.
For every tear they spilled, they shall spill jam tenfold. For the Kala Namak Knights, for the innocent Cookies slaughtered meaninglessly, for Elder Faerie Cookie - all of whom he reached far too late.