Archive of Our Own

“Don’t forget to study, tomorrow your knowledge will be put to the test!” The Fount of Knowledge projected his voice after his students as they herded out of the class. 

It was somewhat an organized line but mostly just a mass of cookies of all shapes and colors carefully making their way into the academy’s halls.

Well, all but one.

The Fount turned his heterochromic gaze onto the cookie approaching his podium.

“Yes, Icecream Sandwich Cookie? How can I be of service?” The Fount addressed him with his well practiced smile and professional tone.

The other cookie flinched, eyes a bit wider as if surprised “How’d you… know my name..??”

The Fount’s mouth curled into a more genuine smile. 

A small chuckle slipped out but it was quickly stamped out as The Virtue cleared his throat.

“Because, I know every cookie’s name.” He replied evenly. If the Fount was cockier, this could be misconstrued as bragging. 

But he was just being honest. He promised he was.

He did take a moment to look through his memories.

In the inner workings of The Fount’s mind, a collection of information unfurled itself before his eyes like a book.

An encyclopedia of the cookie in front of him if you will. 

To him, the pages were clear. They read as such:

“Icecream Sandwich Cookie. 

80% vanilla Icecream, 20% dark chocolate cookie. 

Personality: High strung but well meaning, desires friendship but struggles to communicate with other cookies.

No friends.

Aquantenced with The Knights of Kalanamic. 

Wished for Mystic Flour to give him confidence.

Enjoys feeding the Blueberry Birds on the academy grounds.

Cries himself to sleep.

Intense athazagoraphobia.”

About then The Fount had stopped looking. 

The words continued on for a while. Talking about everything he’s done today, everything he’s ever done in the past, and every thought that’s ever crossed his mind.

Cookies often asked The Fount questions about anything you could think of. Especially the dumb questions, those cropped up way too often.

Although, sometimes those things were questions meant to pick his brain about what the future would hold.

He could never answer those questions beyond an educated guess.

Not because he just outright refused to as just about everyone thought. 

But because he literally couldn’t. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. He’d tried before. To force open the next page in the extensive book of life.

But trying to open such a fuzzy, incomplete thing left him with a splitting headache and spotty vision. His eyes would become far too sensitive to the light. 

His head would throb at even the smallest sounds. All he could do during those times was put his head down and cover his eyes until the pains subsided.

It was an awful experience he wasn’t keen on reliving.

He could see the past at least. Every last detail of cookiekind’s history was his for the browsing.

He was also aware of everything that was going on in the present. 

Someone could drop a pen at the end of the earth and he would know.

He knew of everything that was going on around him just as one knew that there were trees all around them as they walked through the woods. 

But he had to really focus on just one or a couple to really take it all in. 

Trying to take too much in at once was overstimulating and nauseating at best.

So instead he only focused on a few at once.

He went through his friend’s locations one by one. Everyone was doing their usual routines, nothing special. 

That's until he got to The Sugar of Happiness. Also known as The Bringer of Happiness.

The Bringer of Happiness was lounging on a cloud. Sneakily avoiding her job in favor of a much needed nap.

The Fount wished he could join her.

He could look at the other cookies in the world if he cared to.

He just thought he should check up on his friends.

“… and I just don’t know what to do.” The Fount heard the cookie in front of him say. 

Had this cookie been talking the whole time?

The Fount blinked for the first time in a couple minutes. Staring off into space on the outside while rummaging around his library of knowledge on the inside was nothing new.

Harold of Change made sure to make fun of him every time so he didn’t forget.

But to do it while someone else was talking to him wasn’t something he wanted to make a habit of.

Quickly, he searched through his metaphorical library to catch himself up on the conversation. Only the nod along as he now understood the cookie’s plight.

“I see… feeling as though you forget everything you’ve learned no matter how much you study does sound like quite the predicament.” The Fount sympathized, after all he felt no empathy in the moment.

“How about this;” The Fount offered “If it's your performance on the test you’re worried about, I can help you study tomorrow right before class starts. I can’t just pass you along to the next level, but we can try to sharpen up some of your weak points.” 

“Huh? But wouldn’t getting help from you of all cookies be like… cheating?” Icecream Sandwich Cookie asked hesitantly 

“Cramming? Yes. Cheating? Not at all.” The Fount smiled “A few of your classmates are busy looking up the answers in the library and scribing them on their arms as we speak. That’s cheating.” The Fount laughed

“Really? Shouldn’t you stop them?” Icecream Sandwich Cookie looked concerned 

“Of course not, they’re taking care of themselves by writing the wrong answers down anyways.” The Fount shrugged, not a doubt in his mind.

“I wouldn’t worry, Icecream Sandwich Cookie. A lot of your classmates act sure of themselves but they don’t actually know much more than you. We’ll go over what we can but all I ask is that you try your best. As you have been doing thus far.” The Fount said as he stepped away from his podium at last, floating his way to the exit

“Okay,” Icecream Sandwich Cookie seemed to accept that. He started hurrying after The Fount as if he was scared he’d leave him behind “see you early tomorrow then..?” 

“Correct!” 

“You won’t forget..?”

“Of course not silly! When have I ever?”

…

In the wee hours of the morning all of The Spire of Knowledge was quiet. The place was only really busy during the day with cookies from all walks of Earthbread coming to The Spire to seek the answers to their questions.

But most normal cookies were asleep by this time. No one bothered to roam the deafeningly silent halls at this hour. Not when they could busy themselves with resting to have the energy to make it through the day.

Such an activity was almost completely foreign to The Fount.

Sometimes he did wonder what it was like to sleep through the night. Or even just to take a short nap during the day. But his job was all consuming for nearly every bit of his existence. 

If he wasn’t answering questions, he was teaching the masses at his school. If he wasn’t tending to the school he was tending to his domain, making sure everything was running smoothly as it should. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was taking the few hours he could partially devote to himself to prepare for the next day where the endless cycle of work would repeat all over again. 

No rest for the weary as they say.

Not that The Fount of Knowledge really needed it. 

He was a Virtue. He and the four other Virtues weren’t made like other cookies. They didn’t require food to persist, they didn’t crumble of old age, and they didn’t need sleep every night. 

They just needed to do what they were created to do.

No matter how dark The Fount’s eyebags grew, he was sure that was true. If he really did function no differently than other cookies, he was sure that his dough would have turned on him by now. 

But it didn’t. It stayed strong. And so would he.

The Fount sat in his rocking chair up in his study. 

There were a few places in the spire that weren’t covered wall to wall in tall bookshelves, this room wasn’t one of them.

Aside from the well organized shelves, the dim room had a desk, a lamp, and a few chairs. Only possessing exactly what it needed to function. 

Sure The Fount would have liked to decorate the space. But that sort of activity took time. Time he never really possessed. So the room stayed as it was.

The Virtue rocked himself gently back and forth in his chair. Carefully studying the pages of the book he held open in his hands.

The stars in his hair glimmered, their cool silver light washing over the walls in short bursts. 

The lamp shined as the room’s only other light source helping to illuminate the pages of the book, highlighting the complicated spells that were drawn in between walls and walls of text describing said spells. 

 If the book didn’t read like stereo instructions, it might make for good reading for the students attending his next magic lesson. 

But translating complicated text wasn’t anything new for him. Part of his job was breaking down complex ideas to make it more easily understood for cookies. It was important he got every single detail as accurate as possible. Otherwise he risked spreading misinformation. 

Deception, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, always ran the risk of snowballing out of control. It was one thing for normal cookies to lie and embellish.
But if the very Fount of Knowledge himself started dabbling in such taboos life on Earthbread as they knew it would be no more. 

All would be chaos and confusion as ignorant and misguided cookies acted on their falsely held beliefs.

Good thing the Fount of Knowledge would never dream of making that a reality.

The Fount squinted his mismatched eyes. This one sentence in particular read very strangely in his head. He read it over and over. But the more he tried to make sense of it, the less sense it actually made.

Maybe he should try saying the phrase out loud. 

He cleared his throat, and read the first line as such;

“praeteritorum obliviscar, omnia obliviscar. Donec aliquid memini.”

And then the second line as follows;

 “Obiter, si hoc intelligis, nerd es <3”

A part of him felt that the last part was unnecessary. He couldn’t put his finger on why however.

With that weird part of the text out of the way. He turned the page. The first line of the new page told him this;

“By the way, don’t say what was on the previous page aloud.”

The Fount gave the book a disappointed look. 

He should have a word with whoever wrote this. To inform them that they should never write again.

Hm, maybe that was a bit dramatic? Perhaps he should just coach them into writing better.

Suddenly, the book’s words began to glow. They blazed brighter than the lamp at the fount’s side and the stars in his hair, almost blinding the Virtue.

With a hiss of pain The Fount let the book drop into his lap. The book itself fell, but the strange glowing sentence from the page before separated itself from its page and swirled around his head. Each letter went in a different direction but they all orbited the blue cookie.

The Virtue tried to follow the words with his eyes, but they swirled so fast and in so many different directions that he quickly became dizzy.

Before he could use his own magic to stop the spell, the bright words lined themselves up in front of his face to flash one final time before disappearing.

His pupils sharpened to slits as he covered his eyes with his hands.

He rubbed his eyes and gritted his pointed teeth.

The room went back to being hardly lit. The book was once again a normal book and magical words stopped swirling around The Fount’s head. 

But that didn’t mean that his head itself had stopped spinning.

Hunched over in his chair, The Fount kept his eyes closed as he felt the world spin around him like a plate atop a stick.

He felt his heart race as his breathing became belabored. Though no matter how deeply he inhaled he could never quite get enough air.

He should be scared. He really should be.

He likely just cursed himself with some unknown spell. A spell that made his dough feel as though it was gradually shutting down.

But for a cookie who thought he was borderline invincible all his existence. This was an interesting turn of events.

He’d never experienced anything like this before. The complete loss of control and uncertainty of how this would pan out somehow proved itself to be fascinating instead of frightening.

He almost wanted to take note of what was going on. But it was all he could do to try his best not to collapse at the moment.

Maybe he should just try to cope until this weird sensation passes.

Look at his surroundings, count to ten, and take deep breaths. All things he often suggested other cookies do if they need to calm down.

He pried open his eyes. He blinked them into focus- more or less -and made a great effort to focus on his desk in front of him.

He forced himself to try to breathe in a normal rhythm as he decided to admire his writing quill specifically.

He breathed in, out, and in again.

His vision was growing spotty.

He placed his palm on the inkwell the quill rested in. Trying harder to focus on the object.

He felt his head grow impossibly light.

He tried counting the scratches on the surface of the quill. Where his short claws sometimes dug into the hard surface of the pen. 

One… two… three…

What was the next number..? Five?

He really couldn’t recall.

Sitting up was becoming a great effort. Maybe he should put his head down…

Leaning over the desk he placed his head onto his arms harder than he’d meant to. But the pain didn’t register. Not much was really noticeable to him anymore.

The black spots in his vision started creeping in from the edges of his line of sight. As they overtook every last inch of his vision, his pointed ears began to fail to register anything.

Everything was sounding really far. And really muffled. Only the persistent tinny ringing remained as it grew louder and louder to drown out all other stimuli.

He tried to look at the quill. He really did. 

But even his eyes began to fail him as they slowly rolled upwards to point into his head.

Was this what it was like to crumble? He wondered.

The world seemed to vanish around him.

If this was really it then it wasn’t actually so bad.

Everything that troubled him before; Constant questions, constant research, constant fruitless toil. It all didn’t matter anymore.

Everything felt too far away for him to care anymore. All that was left was him and the black abyss that seemed to engulf him.

It was too much of an effort to fight. The Fount of Knowledge ceased his struggle to stay coherent. He grew still, his breaths came in slower and deeper as he had wished.

And soon. He was able to exist, in pure nothingness.

His mind went blank.

. . . 

When the sun came up that morning everything went on as usual on Earthbread.

The Ivory Pagoda was overseen by Mystic Flour Cookie, who dutifully answered the wishes of cookiekind, whether or not they actually deserved it.

Harold of Change tried not to nod off as his underlings informed him that the cycles of change had remained, predictably, unchanged.

The Bringer of Happiness flitted around her domain, attempting to complete her sisyphean quest to bring happiness to all cookies.

The charitable knights rode around on their steeds, assisting the needy. 

And the curious cookies of the school settled into class, eager to be taught about the wonders of the world.

Though sadly, they wouldn’t start class on time today.

Their teacher still lay at his desk up in his spire, fast asleep with his head on his desk. He’d been there for hours, ever since the spell was cast. 

The only thing that’d moved since the spell took effect was the book itself, which had been knocked onto the floor when The Fount shifted in his sleep at one point. 

He probably would have stayed asleep if something hadn’t pinched him in the face all of a sudden.

The sudden jolt of pain made him shoot up and blink back into wakefulness.

“Wha- ow??”

The Fount wasn’t so much in agony as he was confused and bleary. 

It was unclear if the haziness came from the after effects of the spell, or if it’s just the normal effects of taking a nap that lasts more than 30 minutes. 

Maybe this was really why he didn’t take naps? 

Once his mismatched eyes came into focus he saw a pale cookie with her hair tied up in a bun. She wore silky robes and had an air of calm about her. But who exactly this cookie was didn’t come to mind at the moment.

“Sorry to disturb you, Fount.“ the cookie told him. “But one of my followers wished to do you harm. I tried to cause the smallest amount as possible. It still counts as fulfilling their wish… I think.” 

She seemed to think about it for a moment, but then she shrugged before returning her attention to him once more. She looked expectantly at him for a moment, but after a couple beats of silence passed them by she continued the one sided conversation herself.

“Do not be alarmed, I didn’t break in. I merely used some of my power to teleport to your location. Though, aren’t you supposed to be at your school at the moment? Are you aware you’re late?” 

She looked at him again with that same face. The Fount blinked dumbly at her. What was she waiting for?

He couldn’t figure it out so instead he looked around the rest of the room. 

All around him were tall… mini walls? Each with openings in the middle to hold strange objects of vaguely the same size as one another.

They were utterly fascinating.

The Fount turned back to the pale cookie who now looked at him with furrowed brows. He still couldn’t place her expression.

He gave her a fond smile and then tried to push himself away from his desk so he could stand. Only to yelp in surprise when he found that his seat began to rock back and forth. 

He stayed still until it stopped.

Once the shock passed he smiled to himself as he realized the motion was actually quite soothing. He put his hands on the desk again and pushed the desk away.

To his amusement the chair rocked again. He giggled to himself as he pushed the desk away again and again to continue the rocking motion.

“Ehem!” The strange cookie cleared her throat, catching The Fount’s attention and causing the rocking to come to an end.

“Oh?” The Fount finally spoke “Did… you want a turn..?” He offered 

“Excuse me?” The other cookie questioned

“A turn.” The Fount repeated “A turn on the…” he paused and scrunched his face in confusion “the… this… thing..?” He said pointing at the rocking object he was sitting on.

“‘The this thing’?” The other robed cookie echoed “You must be joking.”

Joking..?

Maybe this cookie didn’t want a turn after all. 

The Fount smiled at her “Sorry to be a bother but, what is this thing?” He questioned “and also, who are you?”

The other cookie opened her obsidian eyes wide

“And also who am I while we’re at it-“ The Fount was cut off by his cheeks being squished between the other’s soft hands

His head was twisted this way and that as the other cookie scanned him.

Maybe this was normal? 

He reached for her face too and gently held the sides of her head.

The pale cookie struggled away “What are you doing? Your hands are freezing..!” She exclaimed. Well, it sounded like an exclamation compared to her usual mellow tone. But her speech was still pretty even

“I was just doing what you were doing.” The Fount shrugged “well, I think I was? What were you doing anyways?” he tilted his head curiously

The other cookie still had a hold of him “I’m checking for where you must have bumped your head.” She informed

“Why..?” The blue cookie questioned

“Shouldn’t you know why?” She countered 

“Should I??” The Fount’s voice went shrill with puzzlement

“Of course you should.” She said as though it was obvious 

“What do you think I am? Some sort of knower of all things?” Fount laughed at his own words

“Quite literally yes,” to his surprise, she actually nodded “you are The Fount of Knowledge. Your purpose is to educate cookiekind because you know all there is to know.” She explained 

“Woooah, cool!” He beamed “that name's a bit of a mouthful though.” He said “what abooout… Shadow Milk Cookie?”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” She deadpanned 

“Oh- sorry.” The Fount apologized “I guess The Fount of Knowing Things-“

“-Knowledge.” She cut in

“-yes, that-” The Fount shrugged “shouldn’t say stupid things?” He wondered aloud 

“The Fount shouldn’t need to guess at all.” She reiterated “you should know who I am- who you are.” She gestured to each of them in turn

“You at least remember The Sugar of Happiness, Harold of Change, and Salt of Solidarity, don’t you..?” he saw a light of hope underneath the glitter of concern 

But he sadly had to squander the bit of hope she had with a shake of his head “I don’t know what any of those are, I’m sorry.” And he truly was

With a sigh, the pale cookie brought her arms up to cross over her chest. She looked deep in thought.

The cookie- who was apparently known as ‘Fount of Knowledge’ -wondered if now was a good time to admire those strange halfway hollow walls and the strange shapes they held.

After taking a glance back at the thoughtful cookie to make sure she was still preoccupied, The Fount of Knowledge saw his chance. Carefully, he reached for one of the angular objects on the half-hallow wall.

Halfway there, his wrists were suddenly grasped in the surprisingly strong grip of the other cookie. 

White hands pulled blue ones around so The Fount would be forced to spin and face the cookie that was no longer distracted.

“We’re going to see our friends.” She informed the blue cookie 

The Fount blinked “But, can I just-“

“No.”

. . .

There was a hold up to their journey, a solid few minutes where The Fount was pulled to his feet, led about two steps, and then collapsed onto the floor.

“What are you doing? Float.” The Pale cookie ordered

“What?” He asked from his spot on the floor

The Pale cookie paused, seeming to remember the problem here.

“Like-“ she let him go. 

She pushed off the ground with one foot and amazingly, she didn’t fall back down. 

She tucked her legs together, one over the other at the ankles with her knees pointing in opposite directions. She made a round shape with her first two… grabby appendages? And just let the others relax. 

She looked very calm and she levitated.

“-this.” She finished

Fount's jaw dropped, he was still on the floor. 

“That's so cool!” He exclaimed “I wish I could do that, I’d do it all the time!”

“You can and you do.” She confirmed and let her feet touch the ground again “get up and try it.”

The Fount put his hands on the ground and tried to push himself up. He moved his legs to try to get them underneath him so he could stand.

He was so uncoordinated.

His feet slipped, failed to get in the right spot, and when they did, they just wobbled and failed to balance him properly.

This was pitiable.

At some point the other cookie just bent down, wrapped her arms around his waist, and with a startled yelp from The Fount she tossed him over her shoulder like a sack of… something.

“Alright. Let’s go.” 

The Fount wanted to say something about this but he just ended up keeping his lips pressed together and dangled there as the other cookie- who was apparently his friend -strode confidently along.

. . .

Out in the fields of The Bringer of Happiness’ domain, all five virtues gathered together beneath a tree.

They were summoned together due to an “emergency.” 

Mostly because using urgent language would make for a quick response from the others. But also because it kind of was.

“But it looks like it’s only affecting The Fount.” The Bringer of Happiness brought up as she watched the main victim of their ‘emergency situation’ crush the grass under a clawed hand.

The blue menace squeezed the sweet grass until it was misshapen, released his grip, and watched it slowly unfold back into its old shape. It was a very simple cycle but his expression made it seem like it was the coolest thing ever.

She watched as he laid on his stomach with his chin resting on one arm. He repeated this action over and over.

“He’s not in any pain.” She went on as she sauntered over to him. She wrapped his head up in a hug “He’s rather cute when he’s not correcting me every over sentence.” She cooed with the slightest hint of venom in her undertone.

Harold of Change nodded in agreement.

“Salt of Solidarity, surely you see where I’m coming from.” Bringer turned to the grey and white knight, still holding Fount in something between a cuddle and a headlock.

Salt turned his head down to look at the once all knowing cookie, who was now making a feeble attempt to struggle away from The Bringer. 

Physical strength was never really his thing.

“I suppose he isn’t.” the knight agreed “However, it is unwise to keep him this way for such selfish reasons.” he argued

“How so?” she glanced at the blue cookie she refused to release.

“Think for a moment, Sugar of Happiness. If The Fount is unable to maintain his domain, see to his school, and fulfill his purpose; What would happen to all of cookiekind..?” The Salt of Solidarity posed the question.

Harold of Change spoke up first “I know, those bookish nerds of the academy would have nothing to do all day.”

“Erm, yes…” Salt reluctantly agreed “What else?” he tried again

Sugar of Happiness spoke again “The cookies in his silly little Spire,” she pinched and pulled at the Fount’s cheek as she spoke “would have no one to question all day.” she finished, snickering as The Fount attempted to pull away once more

“Certainly,” The Salt of Solidarity seemed more pleased with this answer “but that’s not all, is it?”

“Cookiekind would be left to solve their own problems and come up with their own solutions for once.” Mystic Flour stated “And surely that could only lead to calamity.” she sighed “The mortals would find some way to destroy themselves if even one virtue were to stop serving them.”

“That is closer to what I was thinking.” The Salt of Solidarity accepted this answer “We must get him back to his old self if possible. There must be a way to reverse what has happened.”

“Such a thing may be feasible.” Mystic Flour cut in again “I didn’t see any marks on his head. And like Sugar of Happiness mentioned, he’s showing no signs of pain, so I doubt it’s an injury.”

“Is he unwell?” The pink cookie put a palm over the Fount’s forehead. The Fount looked increasingly unamused with the touching. Even the ends of his haircing twitched back and forth with agitation.

“No, just dumb.” The Harold of Change determined. 

Now The Fount just looked offended.

“Maybe this is a magical issue then.” The Salt of Solidarity deduced “Maybe someone wished to do him harm and cast a spell.” he ventured

“Someone did wish to hurt him.” Mystic Flour confirmed “Though, I already took care of that.”

Everyone looked shocked 

“Oh calm down- it was just a pinch. The wish was only granted by technicality.” Mystic Flour informed the others with a roll of her obsidian eyes

“Very well,” The Salt of Solidarity tried to refocus the group “we shall consult Elder Faerie Cookie. He’s the only magic user I think we should trust with this.”

“Who’s that?” The Fount chirped

“He’s The Salt of Solidarity’s boyfriend.” The Bringer of Happiness answered 

“It isn’t like that.” The Salt of Solidarity was quick to denounce that idea “He is a trusted friend of mine. Nothing more.”

“So he’s not a boy?” The Fount tilted his head 

“Well- yes, it’s just-” Salt was cut off again 

“I thought he was a faerie?” The Harold of Change mentioned 

“Witches above-” the frustrated knight muttered, questioning his choice in friends momentarily “let us be off to the faerie kingdom already.”

“Isn’t that a couple days’ walk from here?” The Sugar of Happiness brought up

“On foot, yes, on horseback, it is only about one day. We’ll be in and out. The mortals mustn’t suspect a thing.” With that the Salt of Solidarity summoned four horses.

One for each virtue. Well, each one he actually trusted to ride a horse properly. 

The Fount was allowed to pet a horse to keep him occupied as The Salt of Solidarity helped his friends onto their steeds. 

It was a simple yet effective plan, he was utterly fascinated with the salt horse. “You’re a weird cookie…” the cursed cookie whispered to the beast, who whinnied back.

When it came to mounting the Fount of Knowledge onto his horse, it was unanimously decided that the best course of action was tying him to the horse.

If he had forgotten how to float. Maybe he didn’t know how to sit up on a horse anymore either. 

So one magical rope conjuring and a secure slipknot later, the Fount was draped across the horse’s back. Resting behind the saddle.

And soon, they were off

. . .

Once they were arriving at the Faerie Kingdom’s territory, their horses could finally be dismounted. Much to The Bringer’s delight.

Everyone was allowed to walk on their own through the Faeriewood. 

Everyone except The Fount, who was still tied up. 

The Salt of Solidarity was carrying the once all knowing cookie. He held him under one arm like a ball. Bracing him against his side as The Fount remained half limp. Only occasionally lifting his head to admire their surroundings. Out of the stars in his hair, eyes blinked themselves into existence to help him farther scan his surroundings.

“Where exactly are the Faerie Kingdom’s gates?~” The Bringer of Happiness trilled as she glided between the trees on sugary-white wings.

“Gates?” The Fount echoed

“The Gates only reveal themselves to faeries, Sugar of Happiness.” The Salt of Solidarity informed. Then to The Fount he said “You will see what she’s talking about soon.”

“Okay!” The Fount chirped accepting the answer

“Will sweet little Silverbell Cookie be around?” The Bringer asked, “I’m sure he could show us the gates.”

“Patience, Sugar…” Mystic Flour reminded

The Fount spoke again “What’s a Fair-ee-“ 

“Faerie.” Mystic Flour cut in

“Faerie-“ Fount copied her pronunciation “what’s a faerie anyway?”

“Little gray cookies,” came Harold of Change’s gravelly answer “they have delicate little wings, like you could pluck them right off.”

“So violent…” The flying sugar-cookie sighed 

“Oh, like that?” The Fount nodded upwards, like he was trying to point with his nose

“Very funny.” The Sugar of Happiness wore a strained smile while the Harold of Change seemed more pleased

“Not you,” The Fount shook his head, then gestured upwards again “that!” He repeated.

Everyone looked up to see what he was on about 

Two faerie guards had been watching them from the trees. 

Upon being noticed, one cursed under its breath before the both of them fluttered down.

“What brings you to the faerie wood?” came the scarred faerie. His air of seriousness made the atmosphere around them dense. He eyed Harold of Change for a moment.

“Greetings.” The Salt of Solidarity spoke first. Likely the best choice out of the five.

“Apologies for showing up without prior invitation.” The knight bowed his head in respect “Our friend here requires urgent help. We request attendance with Elder Faerie Cookie, at his earliest convenience of course.” he finished 

The faerie cookies looked at one another for a moment, a silver skeptical gaze meeting one of blue-gray concern.

“You speak of the one you are carrying, correct?” The critical faerie asked 

“Indeed.” The Knight nodded “isn’t that right, Fount of Knowledge?” The Salt of Solidarity jostled the blue cookie a little 

“Greetings!” the Fount mimicked 

“I see.” the judgmental faerie seemed to understand. If not completely then at least enough to let them through.

“Very well, Rookie Faerie Cookie.” He addressed the faerie cookie next to him “Reveal the-”

The Rookie Faerie Cookie spoke up “Erm- my name isn’t-”

Only to but cut off

“Never mind that!” The other faerie barked “Reveal the kingdom entrance!”

The assumedly inexperienced faerie flinched and stammered out “Yes! Right away!” 

Without further interruption, the faerie charged up a rushed spell and cast it into the open air.

The spell, meant to unveil the mysterious kingdom, instead sparked haphazardly and rocketed off. It missed the head of Mystic Flour Cookie, who dodged gracefully by leaning to one side, and grazed the cheek of The Harold of Change, who failed to dodge at all, before it sparked off between the trees with a whistle that grew more distant by the second.

Every virtue stared after it with wide eyes.

“Well, no one got hurt at least..?” Rookie Faerie Cookie offered meekly.

With an impeccable sense of timing, the whistling mistle of death and destruction came back.

This time taking a single perfect feather off of the Bringer of Happiness’ wings as she narrowly swooped away.

The magical ball of energy shot straight for the Knight and the cursed virtue. Turning to the side in an attempt to tank the hit for the both of them, the Salt of Solidarity attempted to shield his friend from the blast.

Unfortunately, he didn’t shield the other virtue fast enough. 

The blast struck The Fount directly in the leg. Leaving his dough burnt and slightly cracked.

Almost instantly, tears welled in the virtue’s eyes and he shrieked in pain. His haircing, little more than an ethereal blue mass of ever changing stars, bristled and flared. The stars that had blinked themselves into eyes earlier went wide and teary with agony.

The Bringer of Happiness placed a palm over her mouth in what looked like surprise and Mystic Flour’s eyebrows had a rare knit of sympathy in between them.

The Serious Faerie nudged Rookie Faerie harshly “A thousand apologies. I will reveal the Faerie Kingdom myself.” he said with a glare at the rookie 

As the harsh Faerie went to do as he said he would, Mystic Flour approached the Fount of Knowledge. 

She attempted to take a hold of the burnt leg but the Fount snatched it away “No! Quit it!” came the half shriek half growled response 

“It’s alright.” Mystic Flour soothed “I’m trying to help you, but you have to relax, okay?” she asked, showing patience for the first time since this whole predicament began.

The Fount’s golden and blue eyes darted around to scan the faces of the other cookies around. Like he was going to base his next reaction off of theirs.

Whether or not he knew the right words for it, it seemed like everyone was relatively calm, so he took that as a sign to do the same despite his heart hammering in his chest.

“There you go.” Mystic Flour gave the faintest of smiles and took the cracked limb gently in her hands “Salt of Solidarity," Mystic Flour said in a more hushed tone as she placed a hand over the wound “Do hold him please.”

The Salt of Solidarity complied by pressing the Fount’s head against his body. Hard enough to restrain but not hard enough to inflict anymore damage to his dough.

The Salt of Solidarity expected the cookie he was restraining to complain or make an attempt to thrash free, and he likely would have if all this wasn’t happening so fast.

The rush of flour-white mist that emanated from Mystic Flour’s hands formed a soft silky-like material that wrapped around The Fount’s leg. Beneath the shell of silk, his dough felt vaguely tingly. An odd sensation but it wasn’t exactly awful.

A moment later, a series of sickening pops and crackling sounded from inside the cocoon.

The Fount screamed again and tried to wretch his leg away once more. But by the time he did, the cocoon dissolved into a fine mist and Mystic Flour pulled her hands back

“There you go.” She repeated “It’s as if it never happened.”

And she was right, the dough looked as good as new. 

When the Salt of Solidarity loosened his grip to look at the Fount’s face. It seemed that the only scars Mystic Flour’s healing left were the mental kind.

. . .

Once they were inside the Faerie Kingdom, The Fount was eventually allowed to sit on the ground, though the magical rope from before still bound his arms behind his back. 

The Fount looked down at his newly mended leg. It really did look as good as new. But the stings and stabs of what was apparently called pain coursing through his leg was still fresh in his mind. 

Sure, Mystic Flour had offered him a lollypop for being so “good”, but it didn’t mean the pain from before hadn’t happened. 

Apparently what she did was something called “magic”. Did all magic feel like that..? He had no reason to think otherwise so in his mind it only made sense that it would. He hoped they would never do it again. 

The Fount of Knowledge’s eyes grew with realization. Wasn’t this Elder Faerie Cookie from before some kind of “magic user” as The Salt of Solidarity said before? And isn’t seeing this cookie why his friends brought him here in the first place..? 

That meant that the cookie they were waiting for would use magic on him. And that meant that there was more pain to come.

The Fount couldn’t let that happen to him again. He had to find a way out…

The Fount looked over his shoulder towards his friends.

The Salt of Solidarity was leaned against a tree, talking to Mystic Flour with his head facing away from The Fount.

The Bringer of Happiness was lounging on the limb of a tree. 

And The Harold of Change was being spoken to by the serious guard from earlier. Something about how it was impolite to insinuate that plucking a faerie’s wings could ever be a mere “fun passtime”.

So none of them were watching him. Good.

His legs were a struggle to walk with, but maybe he could get them to cooperate enough to get him away.

Carefully bending one leg, and then the other, The Fount dug the end parts of his legs- whatever those were called -into the ground and then tried to pull the ground behind him with all the strength his dough had to offer. 

Which was just enough to scoot him forwards.

It wasn’t walking, but it was progress! And that was all he needed.

Little by little, The Fount scooted across the grass on his behind with all the grace and dignity of a dog on its owner’s most expensive carpet.

His robes getting increasingly wet and stained from the sugary grass was something he would have thrown a fit over any other day, but right now the thought of freedom allowed him to press on.

Once he got to the side of a large building, he did an ungraceful tuck and roll to prop himself up around the corner where the others wouldn’t see him.

He was a little out of breath from such an intense get away across a whole 20ft of ground or so.

But even so he felt a good feeling he struggled to name swell in his chest as the thought of successfully getting away from the others. 

Now to get these stupid ropes off his wrists.

He wriggled around as he tried to wretch his wrists free from the binds. 

No luck.

He tried again, but harder. His face wrinkled with the effort and his celestial haircing went spikey and lashed to and fro to match the frustrated expression on his face.

With a muted huff, he stopped.

“Fount of Knowledge?” a confused questioning tone came his way

The Fount went stiff, his hair shielded his face from the newcomer's point of view “A Fount of Knowledge?” echoed the blue cookie, putting on a voice “A-who could that be..?” 

He hoped his top tier acting skills would get him out of this.

A muffled chuckle was heard.

Rude.

And then the buzzing of a pair of insect-ish wings along with the gentle chime of a bell.

A pair of gray hands gently brushed away the flowing wall of blue and stars that covered the Fount’s face.

“Greetings!” smiled a faerie cookie. Fount noticed the other cookie sported a white floral bow on his back. And while this cookie’s face looked happy his eyes had white markings beneath them that gave the impression of tear drops.

The Fount failed to think of this as odd, it was hard to see the contrast between the happy face and sad markings when he wasn’t aware the eyes were meant to leak when one was upset anyways.

“Greetings,” The Fount tried to sound level headed “Elder Faerie Cookie..?” he guessed this must be one of the two faerie cookies he knew of at the moment.

“Elder Faerie Cookie??” The faerie seemed shocked at the name. Ah, wrong faerie. He needed to correct this.

“Relax Silverbell Cookie!” He smiled “I’m joking!” he hoped that word sounded natural in this context.

“O-oh of course!” 

Good, it worked.

“I should have known, after all we look nothing alike!” Silverbell Cookie went on

Okay so Elder Faerie looks nothing like Silverbell, got it.

“What brings you to the Faerie Kingdom?” Silverbell questioned, and then didn’t give The Fount enough of a chance to answer “Is it important business?” Silverbell brought his hands up to cover his mouth when he gasped at his own assumption “May I help?!” 

The silver sparkle shining in Silverbell’s blue-grey eyes practically begged the Fount to say yes. His buzzing excitement literally rang through the air.

Of course he would, he would need as much help as possible to get away from the other virtues.

“Of course you may.” The Fount nodded 

Silverbell’s wings fluttered with excitement “Where do I start?” Silverbell radiated enough determination to make a monster melt.

“First,” The Fount sat up straighter, “I need to get my hands free.” he mentioned turning around enough to show Silverbell what he was talking about.

Without question, Silverbell fluttered forth and skillfully undid the knot.

With a sigh of relief, The Fount was able to relax his arms and bring his wrists where he could see them. He rubbed the dough where the rope held it down a little too tightly.

“What now?” Silverbell looked eager to do more.

“Next…” The Fount tried to think quickly

Where could he go to stay away from the others and be hidden from anyone who might try to take him back to them? 

Somewhere only he and Silverbell could be..?

He got an idea 

“We must get into the trees.” he decided

“The trees? Why there?” Silverbell glanced upwards at the leafy tops of the trees as if they had the answers.

“It is important that we get up high.” The Fount decided in the moment 

“Oh well, can’t you just fly upwards?” Silverbell questioned “I mean I know you don’t have wings but-”

“The trees would be better, trust me.” The Fount insisted, and Silverbell accepted without further question 

“Yes, of course.” was all the Faerie said “So are we climbing then?”

“Uh- I was thinking that maybe you could lift me up there?” Was this a normal request? He sure hoped so. 

“Lift you? I could try.” Silverbell reached out his hand “Here.” 

The Fount of Knowledge looked at the hand. He blinked. Was there something for him to take? Something he couldn’t see?

The Fount reached out and tried to take whatever it was SIlverbell was trying to give him. But to his confusion and budding frustration his own claws went right through the invisible object. No matter how many times he tried to grip it.

The faerie raised a brow at him. Was he confused now too?

“Like this.” Silverbell clarified by gripping the Fount’s hand himself.

Oooh, that’s what he wanted.

Fluttering harder than ever, Silverbell attempted to lift both himself and the virtue off the ground.

Silverbell himself made it into the air just fine, but he had to flap just a bit harder to lift the other cookie high enough to reach the treetops.

Once they reached a branch that was shielded from the view of everyone on the ground, SIlverbell lowered the Fount towards the branch, allowing the virtue’s feet to brush the rough bark.

The Fount cringed and raised his legs away from the tree’s surface. 

“What are you doing?” Silverbell asked “You can stand on it, it won’t break.” he reassured as if that was the problem the other cookie was concerned about.

He hadn’t exactly planned what they’d do once they were out of sight in the canopy. Much less how he’d stay in the canopy. He could all too well see himself falling off the side of the tree’s limbs.

But if he told Silverbell he couldn’t walk up here by himself, maybe he’d think something was wrong. Most other cookies seemed to either fly or walk on their own. Being helped around everywhere wasn’t exactly the norm as he had gathered.

Carefully, he put his feet back down on the surface of the bark. 

He could feel Silverbell forcing him to gradually support more and more of his own weight as the faerie lowered him onto the branch.

Maybe Silverbell would have completely let go if it hadn’t been for the Fount losing his balance and nearly falling. 

The faerie steadied him almost immediately.

Fount was grateful, really, even if he didn’t know the word for it. But he seriously needed to figure out exactly how standing worked if he was ever going to pull this off.

Okay, so apparently just touching the ground with his appendages isn’t what keeps him up. 

But if that wasn’t what did it, then what did?

The virtue thought to himself. He’d managed to move on his own when he was tied up on the ground. He remembered how he accomplished it; By digging his heels into the ground and bending his knees to move himself forwards. In the utmost dignified manner he’d have everyone know.

Maybe something similar would work here. 

The Fount tried to bend his knees again. But that only pulled him down. Okay so not like that.

Next, he tried straightening his legs out, pushing the branch away from him and in turn putting himself up high again. He had no idea that The Harold of Change would argue he hadn’t lifted himself up all that high really. Something about how there was barely a difference between him sitting or standing or whatever. Probably by resting a burly arm on his head to make a point.

He made a mental note; Straight legs were closer to what he wanted to achieve.

Next was staying upright without overly relying on Silverbell’s hands. 

Loosening his grip, he tried to balance himself .

All the other cookies made it look so easy. But it turned out to be absurdly complicated.

Not only did he need to keep his legs straight, but he had to keep his back straight too. And it wasn’t enough to just stand still, he had to constantly adjust himself to avoid falling off the branch.

And all of that couldn’t compare to the walking part. 

He had to force his legs to work together. One supporting his body while the other lifted up as he leaned forwards. It was like purposefullying falling, only to catch himself with the leg that had been in the air.

And that was just one step! 

He had to do those motions over and over!

Each time switching which leg he was supporting with and which he would lift to catch himself. This was needlessly complicated! Why didn’t cookies just float like Mystic Flour or fly like The Sugar of Happiness? Those modes of transportation were clearly superior!

The Fount couldn’t wait for the time to come when he wouldn’t need to perform such an agonizing set of motions again.

. . .

Running on the other hand was amazing! 

The wind rushing through his hair, the foliage rushing past his vision, the thrill of jumping from one branch to another when he finally reached the end of the first one.

Balancing was still something he had to think about, occasionally he held his arms out to either side to steady himself. But after a moment or two he was fine to continue rushing along, smiling to himself as he went.

“Keep up Silverbell!” He called over his shoulder, barely looking back at the faerie. They’d let go of each other a little while ago.

“Trying..!” Silverbell replied, dodging through the trees as best he could “Open air is really best for flying, are you sure it’s imperative to stay hidden?” he questioned

“Uh-huh!” The Fount just agreed, though he couldn’t imagine what that word meant.

Whether or not SIlverbell knew it. The two of them were well on their way to escaping the Faerie Kingdom. And therefore The Fount’s painful appointment with the Kingdom’s leader.

They had to go around the spot where the other Virtues were resting, running right over top of them might have gotten them caught. 

Luckily they did make it around The Virtues as planned. But after that, The Fount didn’t have much of an idea on where to go.

Sure, he somewhat remembered the path he saw when The Salt of Solidarity was lugging him around. But it all looked a lot different up here.

The pair went in circles, then had to double back, and eventually found a path that looked like the right way out of the heart of the kingdom.

All the while the blue cookie didn’t stop his momentum. 

When he thought he might land improperly on a branch, he tucked himself in the air. Transitioning into a smooth forwards roll before popping back up on his feet.

When he thought he might trip, he allowed himself to fall forwards catching himself with his hands and swinging his legs over head to spring and land upright onto a new bough.

And just for fun, he did a cartwheel at some point. 

Moving like this was more fun than he thought. It was weirdly freeing- exhilarating! Too bad he didn’t know the words for it. He should really do acrobatics more often, not that he’d be able to describe such a desire to anyone who’d listen.

The Fount summersaulted his way to a lower branch.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do when he finally got out of the faerie kingdom. He was only certain that he’d be safe once he was out of these woods.

Soon, he thought he saw the path he believed the others took to bring him here. 

If he went in the opposite direction that they did to get here. He should be able to make his way out of here.

They shouldn’t need the trees anymore, they should be safe to be on the ground once more.

The Fount leaped to a lower limb once more. “I think we’re almost there!” The Fount told Silverbell

The pair descended lower and lower until there was only one jump left between the lone virtue and the forest floor.

Gathering his courage, he leaped for the dirt floor.

Soon he would have done it, he would have escaped.

If it wasn’t for the sudden sound of wings beating through the wind and a pair of familiar arms wrapping themselves around his waist.

“Gotcha~” The sweet voice cooed, successfully interrupting his descent.

“Wha-??” The Fount was flabbergasted “How’d you?-”

“Find you?” The Sugar of Happiness finished his thought for him “Why it wasn’t too hard really.” She held him tightly in a restraint that was all too similar to The Salt’s ropes from earlier. The Fount was really getting sick of being restrained.

“You chose the loudest faerie to accompany you.” Said the knight as he silently stalked out from the foliage.

Silverbell’s wings themselves seemed to ring gently as he fluttered down “Er- my apologies…” he mentioned when he joined the small group

“Sorry to have you find out like this Silverbell Cookie,” The Salt of Solidarity addressed the young faerie cookie “but you appear to have been tricked into helping our ally escape.”

“Tricked?” Silverbell echoed in question “...Yeah I guess this was all a bit strange. Are you all not here for important business after all?”

“We are here for an important reason, yes.” the knight confirmed “But it does not involve assisting in a stealth mission.” He turned on his heels “follow me back to the others. I shall explain on the way.” he said before he strode off, leading the way.

. . .

As promised, Silverbell was filled in on the situation and sworn to secrecy before being told to fly ahead to Elder Faerie and inform him about the situation. 

The Virtue of Sudden Amnesia on the other hand was not allowed out of sight a second time. Nor was he allowed out of The Bringer’s arms. Unfortunately she was also stronger than she looked, so struggling was a bust as well.

The Fount’s mind raced. Trying to come up with escape plan after escape plan. But none of them would work.

They were approaching the library and ascending the stairs too soon.

Passing floor after floor, they eventually reached what seemed like the building’s top floor.

The Fount’s heart pounded in his chest. Phantom pain from his previously cracked dough seeped back in. 

He couldn’t do that all over again.

“Do we have to use magic..?” The Fount’s voice shook a little more than he would have liked for it to.

“I’m afraid so, dear~” His captor sang 

“But… But..!-” He tried to find some excuse, some good reason as to why they should not. But his mind was blank.

“It shall be over soon.” The cookie covered in armor said over his shoulder. Perhaps it was meant to be soothing. 

Passing Silverbell once more on their way through the entrance door of a large room, the five of them came face to face with another faerie.

“Greetings, Fount of Knowledge.” came a voice crisp with the age of countless seasons “Such a shame we have to meet under such circumstances after so long.”

This must have been Elder Faerie Cookie. He really did look nothing like Silverbell.

There was no energetic jingling to his movements. No youthful but determined air to him. This cookie looked stern. 

Serious. 

Scary.

The Fount couldn’t do this. 

“I have been informed you are in need of my assistance?” This one seemed more directed to the others.

The Salt of Solidarity spoke “Greetings, old friend. It has been very long indeed. But now is no time for leisure. One of our own has been afflicted with a curse. He can no longer perform his duty and has lost all memory of other cookies and the world around him.” he gestured to the Fount whose hair was slowly turning jagged and distressed with anticipation.

“We’ve come to seek a spell to reverse the curse’s effects.” The Salt of Solidarity went on

“I see.” Elder Faerie approached The Fount- much to his displeasure -and analyzed him closely “And we have ruled out any possibilities of physical injuries being the source of these issues?”

The Fount pursed his lips and shrank away to the best of his ability at the faerie’s approach.

“We have,” Mystic Flour confirmed, “it is surely a curse.”

Elder Faerie caught The Fount’s mismatched eyes. His cool even stare didn’t do anything to ease the tension in the dough of his body. Elder Fearie’s expression was unreadable, free for The Fount to project all of his most anxious thoughts onto.

Right now, he was convinced this other cookie would do him nothing but harm. 

His breathing quickened at the thought.

“Very well, let us waste no more time.” Elder Faerie backed up a pace and made his way towards the middle of the room. 

“Since no one is sure what spells exactly the original curse was composed of.” Elder Faerie went on “I am just going to perform a simple nullification spell. Once it’s cast, it should disable any prior magic set upon the subject.” he explained. Everyone seemed alright with this.

Why were they all so okay with this? Didn’t they know he was in danger?

“Set him up against the wall, I’d rather not hit you with this spell, Sugar of Happiness.” Elder Faerie directed, pointing to a corner.

Without question, Fount was flown over to the spot in the corner and sat up against the hard wall.

Once The Sugar of Happiness flew away, The Fount’s mind immediately went to escape.

But where would he go?

Sugar and Salt were by the only door. Herald of Change and Mystic Flour were close to the only window. And Elder Faerie was in a good position to block any attempts to make a break for it.

This was hopeless.

Quietly the Fount remained frozen, his brows knitted together and his lip beginning to tremble ever so slightly.

Elder Faerie cleared his voice, he began to sing-song a phrase in a language The Fount didn’t understand.

It was starting.

The Fount’s starry haircing began to snake itself around his body, an attempt to shield him that would surely be in vain. Nevertheless he hugged himself. A poor attempt to shrink away from the situation.

As Elder Faerie continued his chanting, he raised a palm and directed it towards The Fount. Magic was visibly accumulating all around his hand.

The cornered cookie began to tremble. The eyes on his face started to match the ones blinking to life in his hair; Tearful. 

Trying to cope, he rubbed his feet against the hard tile floor. Forcing himself to focus on the texture of the ground instead of the phantom pain shooting up his leg in short nagging bursts.

He wanted to look away from the faerie and try to focus on something else to distract himself. But it was hard to ignore the aura that grew and grew around Elder Faerie. The process was both agonizingly slow and happening far too fast.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

It started with a squeak. Then a whimper. And then like a dam ready to crumble, he could no longer hold back the flood of terror forcing itself forwards like a tidal wave.

His breath hitched, his whole body shook, tears burned at his eyes and soon streamed down his contorting face.

He dug his claws into his bristling hair and banged his head against the stone wall rather harshly in despair. He only somewhat noticed the pain caused by his actions.

Quivering, he slid down the wall and curled into himself on his side.

Elder Faerie’s chants came to a halt.

Not that The Fount had really noticed. 

He was too busy wailing and trying to catch his breath with one harsh suck of air after the next. It was as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to hyperventilate or bawl his eyes out. 

So why not both?

He hid his face in the sleeves of his robes, but they barely did anything other than slightly muffle the ever growing volume of his hysterical weeping.

“Fount? What’s wrong?” A voice questioned from somewhere in the room. Perhaps one of his friends.

He couldn’t tell, and despite his intent to reply he couldn’t muster anything coherent.

Only a strangled shriek that was cut off by the sound of him choking momentarily came through. But once the coughing subsided, he was back to his wailing.

“It’s alright..!” another, deeper, distant voice tried to say. But it got no reply.

“Fount, listen to me,” another voice accompanied by a gentle hand “can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He wanted to say something. He really did. 

“I can’t help you if I don't know what’s bothering you.”

He tried again, only to choke out a strangled squeak instead of words. This was humiliating. 

He shook his head and buried it deeper into the cloth of his robes

The voice said something else, carefully encouraging him to go on.

Something was trying to stoke his back soothingly. He could only vaguely feel it.

“I-It’ll hurt-” he stammered out, cut off for a moment when he gasped for air once more “-ts’gonna hurt me..!” he whined with great difficulty

“No one here wants to hurt you, okay?” the voice said with sympathetically “Why would you even think…” then the voice seemed to realized

There were more words being tossed about around him. Someone questioning and another one answering with something about how reasoning wasn’t going to work. 

It made no difference that he didn’t understand them.

The Fount couldn’t reply to them if he wanted to anyways. 

He just wanted this to be over. He wanted to go as far away from this wretched place as possible. 

But he couldn’t.

He was stuck here.

Stuck in this awful forest. Stuck with their awful magic. And stuck on the floor, forced to make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

“I get it now.” The comforting voice from earlier spoke again “Fount, look, I’m very sorry but we can’t exactly avoid this…” 

Dread stabbed him straight through the chest. He shook his head and made some miserable sound, begging for it to not be true.

“Try to focus on my voice. Can you look at me?” a gentle hand coaxed his head out from under his arm a little ways.

Blinking the tears from his eyes he was able to see that the voice belonged to Mystic Flour. 

He was still struggling to catch his breath, still trying to bite back the sobs that threatened to spill out, and could still hardly talk.

“There you go.” she congratulated “I’m gonna hug you okay? We’re gonna get you off the floor and everything’s gonna be okay.” Then, as promised, Fount was helped out of laying on the floor and into more of a sitting up motion. 

Mystic Flour wrapped him up in her arms. His head pressed into her chest close to one shoulder and the rest of him kept close against her body. His arms were kept close to his body, but for what little he did move them he was able to grip one of her arms for dear life.

Unlike the cold hard ground. She was warm and soft. A welcome change in texture.

His breathing began to calm down into a much more manageable pace. He still sniffled and choked back his sobs but it wasn’t so overwhelming as it was before.

He felt her head jerk a bit as if she was beckoning someone. He didn’t pay it much mind. He might have even started to relax if it wasn’t for him catching a glimpse of Elder Faerie starting to quietly close the distance between the two of them and himself.

Panic flared up in Fount’s chest. But when he tried to squirm he soon found out he couldn’t go far at all. The hug kept him firmly in place.

“Hey, you’re okay.” Mystic Flour reassured “It’s gonna be okay. It’s not painful.”

He wanted to tell her how wrong she was.

His breathing grew ragged once more and the sobbing started up again.

“You’re with me, it’ll be alright. You’re alright.” he was told again as the Faerie got within arm’s length

Terrified, he buried his face into the bend of Mystic’s neck and trembled as he waited for the inevitable.

The sing-songed word started up again and he swore he could sense an increase of strange energy in the room.

A hand placed itself on his head.

The energy shivered through his dough from head to toe.

And just as soon as it started up. It was over.

… it was over.

Carefully he peeked out from Mystic Flour.

His head was buzzing, and not just from the overload of stress anymore. Around the room, he saw Elder Faerie, the leader of the Faerie Kingdom, looking down at him.

The Faerie’s face was as serious as ever, only a small bend in his brow gave away any concern he was feeling.

Then he saw his friends, Mystic Flour was up against him while the other three were stationed around the room. A mixture of anticipation and concern could be found in their expressions.

For a moment he wondered why they were all acting like that. And why they were all staring at him so hard.

But then his powers sparked to life in his mind and for one dizzying moment all the information he was unaware of for the past several hours rushed into his head all at once.

As the room spun like a carousel, he was able to envision the missed day at his school, the confusion springing up all around campus in his absence. The territory of the other virtues and how they’d been abandoned so they could all be with him right now. Silverbell on the other side of the door to the room, wondering if he should crack the door open to take a peek at what was going on inside. Only to stop when he reminded himself of Elder Faerie’s request for privacy and to guard the door until he came back.

The information overload almost made him want to throw up right then and there.

To ground himself he put his forehead down, resting it on Mystic’s shoulder and trying to breathe.

He noticed in his attempt to calm himself that his body seemed weirdly frazzled. His dough was shaking ever so slightly. His eyes and face were wet, and breaths came in with involuntary hitches and shudders, as if he was recovering from some emotional outburst.

Then with a stab of dread, he realized that was exactly what had happened. As though it was a memory, he recalled himself having what Sugar of Happiness had named “a nervous breakdown” in the corner of the room as the others looked on in shock, worry, and awkward inaction. Unsure of what to do.

They’d offered help, in their own ways, of questions and gathering close to him, trying to figure out what had set him off. 

But none of it came through. He was too caught up in his panic to listen to anyone who wasn’t Mystic Flour.

And even then, all he could offer her as a reply were pitiful half-strangled squeals and unintelligible bellyaching with a few slurred words thrown in.

What was he; A child?

Why had he been so unnecessarily dramatic over something he was told over and over again wasn’t even remotely as dangerous or painful as he feared it’d be?

He can’t believe he acted like that. In public. In front of others. In front of his friends!

Hot with shame and self loathing The Fount’s face burned a brighter blue than it already was.

He felt like the stupidest cookie on earthbread. Afraid of a little spell like a newly-baked was afraid of a doctor with a needle.

They would never take him seriously again, and why should they?

“Fount?” Mystic Flour said in a hushed tone “Are you alright? How do you feel?” 

“... I feel so stupid.” He answered truthfully.

“Stupid?” Mystic Flour echoed in confusion 

“For all the crying?” Fount half whispered half hissed back as though it should have been obvious “All the theatrics- and for what? Witches-” he spat the word “-I couldn’t have been a bigger fool if I tried!”

“Stop that.” Mystic ordered firmly “You didn’t know exactly what was going on. You weren’t stupid, you were scared. Perhaps you did not know how to cope, and so you reacted in about as natural of a way as you could. There is nothing stupid about that. You are a lot of things, but daft isn’t one of them.” 

He opened his mouth to argue. But a cold metal hand on his shoulder stopped him. “We are all just glad that you are alright.” reassured The Salt of Solidarity

A muscular pair of arms squeezed the three of them closer together “What he said. Now you’ll go back to being the usual amount of annoying!” Teased Harold of Change

A huge pair of sweet white wings enveloped them all. “I will miss the cluelessness, but I suppose the old you was alright too~”

The Fount was squished with all his friends around him. And they weren’t insulting him. Not calling him a crybaby or overly dramatic as he had feared. Instead, they all seemed to be glad the entire ordeal was over. Happy to have him back.

He sighed in relief and leaned into them all as best he could to reciprocate the affection. 

He was still shaken, but he was starting to feel better after all.

. . . 

The next day at the academy things went back to how they were before after a sincere apology for missing the test he’d assigned his class.

He was able to spend the extra time with Icecream Sandwich Cookie as he’d promised even if it was a day late.

And after an opportunity to take the test today, things went about as Fount would have expected.

Most of the class passed, a few needed to repeat, and the band of cheaters failed on the spot for scribbling down answers like “21” to simple history questions. 

Icecream Sandwich Cookie was among the group of those who passed.

After he waved the class good-bye, he found himself left alone in the empty room.

The Fount figured there was no point in standing around. He straightened his desk, preparing to go on about his day.

But to his surprise, there was a new paper among the usual stack on his desk. 

Curious as to what it was, he pulled it out.

It was a paper decorated with glitter glue and sprinkles of every color. 

Hm? He didn’t remember making this.

After further inspection he found out that the sparkly decorations spelled out the phrase “Get well soon!” and at the bottom it was signed “-Icecream Sandwich Cookie.”

Upon reading the paper to himself, the events that led to it being on his desk popped into his head.

He saw Icecream Sandwich Cookie getting distracted from his studies and using the time spent avoiding his duties to craft the message out of some of his notebook paper.

As the information played out like a memory in his mind. The Fount felt his eyes grow wet again.

But this time, it wasn’t fear, it was a warm positive feeling.

Some fleeting emotion that puzzled him for a moment. After a moment, he was able to finally put the foreign emotion to words. It was one he seldom felt;

Happiness.

And for a brief moment, everything felt right with the world.