Chapter Text
The Spire of Deceit was quiet.
Too quiet.
Candy Apple Cookie sat cross-legged on the balcony of her room, overlooking the dusty lands of the Beast-Yeast. She idly smoothed out the syrup she’d just applied onto her dough earlier this morning. She’d already applied two coats today - shining, glistening, sticky-sweet - the one that had made her dough glisten under the limited sunlight in the land of Beast-Yeast.
She wanted to look presentable for when Shadow Milk Cookie came back.
If he ever returns, she thought sullenly.
He’s been gone from the Spire more and more lately…not that he’s ever spent much time here in the first place, but Candy Apple Cookie seemed to notice his absence more in the past weeks.
Ever since that stupid Pure Vanilla awakened.
Shadow Milk Cookie really was spending far less time in the Spire. He wouldn’t even come back at night now, sometimes. He was using the Spire less like a home and more like a... what had he called it?
Candy Apple tilts her head, trying to remember. It had been during one of his monologues, back when he still bothered to include her in them.
"The Spire is my torso, little apple. Being here is like dwelling in my belly. Cozy, isn't it?"
He'd laughed then. That manic, beautiful laugh that made her feel like she was part of something magnificent.
Now the Spire just feels empty.
Candy Apple traces the blue-gold patterns on the floor beneath her. Those intricate spirals that seem to shift when she's not looking directly at them.
How did he make all this? She thought to herself in wonder. The impossible architecture that folds in on itself, the corridors that lead to different places depending on which direction you approach them, the tapestries woven from literal lies?
How did he birth the magic that runs through her own veins?
How did he create her?
There was a frightening clarity at the thought.
She squeezes her own arm experimentally, feeling the give of her dough. Softer than most cookies. More... pliable. Like she's not quite as solid as Black Sapphire Cookie, or even the average cookie she encounters on missions beyond Beast-Yeast.
Because I was made from lies, not ingredients, she reminds herself, that familiar giddy thrill running through her chest. I'm special. I'm his greatest creation.
She gazes out at Beast-Yeast spreading below. It was vast and wild and dangerous, shadows creeping like vines at the edges of the dark blue fog that permeated the upper floors of the Spire.
The Ivory Pagoda rises in the distance to the south, a pale smudge against darker mountains. Mystic Flour Cookie's domain. The Beast of Apathy. Candy Apple has never been there, but she's heard Shadow Milk talk about it with something that might be annoyance. With Shadow Milk, it's hard to tell.
Beyond that, the Dark Flour Mountains cut jagged lines across the horizon. And somewhere past those mountains, far across the Licorice Sea, lie the kingdoms of Crispia. The places she visits for Shadow Milk's masterful schemes.
"Black Sapphire still isn't back yet," she says aloud to no one, her voice echoing slightly in the vast chamber. "It's getting boring.”
She hops off the ledge with a little push of her arms. She strolled out of the room.
Not that it hasn't been boring before, she thinks absently. The Spire has always been empty - just her, Black Sapphire, and Shadow Milk Cookie rattling around in a monument built for crowds. But at least when Black Sapphire is here, she has someone to talk to.
She picks up her sketchbook, half-filled with drawings of Shadow Milk in various dramatic poses. Here he is with his staff raised, cyan light streaming from his Soul Jam.
A few pages feature Black Sapphire looking stoic and dependable. And tucked near the back, one drawing she's never shown anyone: all three of them together. Shadow Milk in the center, magnificent and tall. Black Sapphire to one side, and her on the other side.
It's entirely from imagination. They've never actually stood together like that.
But someday, maybe…
Candy Apple's head snaps up, heart leaping with excitement. She jumped to her feet and scrambled out the room, nearly slamming herself onto the wall in the pure velocity of her movement. She skittered her way toward the sound of Shadow Milk Cookie emerging from the portal, like a butterfly would emerge from its cocoon.
A portal blooms in the chamber, cyan light spilling across the blue-gold floors like liquid magic.
She would never get tired of looking at her master.
His entrance is, as always, magnificent. He twirls his staff in a full circle, emerging from the portal, elevated slightly above the floor. The cyan light illuminates his dough in that wonderful blue glow, making his image seem so much more imposing.
"Did you MISS me?" His voice echoes through the empty halls. "Of course you did! I'm absolutely unmissable!”
"Master!" Candy Apple scrambles to her feet, nearly dropping her sketchbook in her haste. "You're back! I finished organizing the artifact storage like you asked, and I catalogued all the new rumors from the southeastern villages, and I-"
"Yes, yes, very good, excellent work, etcetera, etcetera." He waves one hand dismissively, already floating past her toward his private chambers. "I have MUCH to contemplate after today's absolute DISASTER of a-”
He stops mid-sentence, and he finally looks at her properly for the first time since entering.
Candy Apple straightens instinctively under his gaze, trying to look presentable, and smoothes out her dress.
"Why are you so... glossy?" Shadow Milk's head tilts in that way of his.
He noticed!
"Oh!" Candy Apple beams, touching one of her candy-apple pigtails. "I applied my sweetest syrup! The really shiny kind that-”
"It's excessive." His grin doesn't waver but his eyes have already lost focus, looking through her rather than at her. "You look like you've been dipped in lacquer. Quite unnecessary.”
He pauses, albeit momentarily. “Don't just stand there gawking at me, I need- actually, never mind. I'll handle it myself."
He starts to float away again, already dismissing her from his attention.
Candy Apple's chest tightens. "Master, wait! Do you need me to-"
"No, no. You've done quite enough for today." His voice echoes back from down the corridor. "Just... continue whatever you were doing. Organizing. Cataloguing. Whatever keeps you occupied~"
The tone of voice made Candy Apple feel like he was mocking her, rather than being affectionate.
Candy Apple watches him drift away, desperate to extend the interaction, to be useful, to matter for just a few more seconds. Without thinking, she reaches out.
Her hand catches his arm.
His dough.
She feels it.
The sensation shocks her into stillness. His dough is soft. Too soft. Not firm like it should be, like Black Sapphire's is, like hers is. It's like pastry left out too long, structural integrity compromised by- by what? Too much of something? Not enough of something else?
It felt like a cookie that's been left in milk too long, the structure breaking down, becoming overly malleable. It yields under her fingers in a way that feels almost fragile, like if she pressed too hard it might just... give way entirely.
She was sure she wasn’t pressing hard enough to break anything, let alone a cookie’s dough, but why-?
It feels wrong.
Shadow Milk yanks his arm away so violently Candy Apple Cookie actually swore she felt her dough dislocate itself. His eyes are wide, staring at her with fury evident on his face. But then, something in his eyes softens out. He huffs, and when he opens his eyes again, all that fire is gone.
"Candy Apple." His voice is quieter than usual. "Personal space, please."
"I'm sorry, I just…"
"It's fine." He waves his staff dismissively, but the gesture lacks his usual dramatic flair. "Just... don't. I'm not really in the mood for... contact. Today has been..."
He trails off, looking somewhere past her shoulder.
"Difficult," he finally settles on. "Today has been difficult."
Then, as if remembering himself, his grin sharpens slightly. "But nothing the magnificent Shadow Milk Cookie can't handle, of course! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have VERY IMPORTANT - things to do…"
A portal opens beneath him.
"Carry on with whatever you were doing. You're doing... adequately. As always."
He drops through and vanishes.
Gone.
Candy Apple stands there, hand still outstretched, the phantom sensation lingering on her fingers.
She looks down at her own arm. Squeezes it roughly, testing. Her dough gives easily—she's always been soft, pliable, like a chewy cookie. But there's still resistance. Still a core of something solid beneath the give. Black Sapphire was always one hard cookie. But nothing could compare to Shadow Milk’s dough.
His dough had felt... compromised. Structurally unsound. Like all the liquid had soaked through, breaking down the integrity from the inside out.
Why?
What would cause that?
Candy Apple shakes her head violently, candy-apple pigtails swinging. "No. No, it's probably just... he's tired. That's all. Tired from whatever he was doing today. Cookies get soft when they're exhausted, right? That's... that's normal."
Her voice echoes in the empty chamber.
No one responds.
She looks at her hand again, opening and closing her fingers.
The memory of that malleable, milk-soaked texture won't leave her.
He pulled away so carefully, she thinks. Not angry. Just... sad? Resigned.
Maybe Shadow Milk Cookie had always been like this. And he’s been fine so far, hasn’t he?
Who was she to judge another cookie’s (let alone her master’s, a Beast Cookie for all the love of Deceit-!) differences from her own?
That was surely a stupid thought.
Candy Apple picks up her sketchbook and retreats to her room, but she can't stop thinking about it.
About how fragile Shadow Milk had felt.
She'd never heard him admit to difficulty before.
What happened today? she wonders. What made him so... defeated?
But she has no answers.
Just the lingering sensation of dough breaking down.
Of structure dissolving.
Of something wrong beneath the surface that Shadow Milk Cookie very badly doesn't want anyone to see.
It was a properly frightening train of thought.
Candy Apple picks up her sketchbook that she didn’t even realise she’d dropped, and retreats to her room. It was a small space compared to the grand chambers Shadow Milk occupies, but still far larger than she needs. The walls are covered with her drawings, tacked up in no particular order. Shadow Milk performing. Shadow Milk scheming.
She sits on her bed and pulls out her diary from beneath her pillow.
The diary is bound in black fabric she'd stitched herself, decorated with small charms. Every page is filled with her looping handwriting, pressed flowers from Beast-Yeast's wilderness, small sketches in the margins.
She flips it open to a random page from three weeks ago:
Master was the best today! He came up with seventeen new schemes before breakfast! (Or so he said.) I could tell he was pleased with that thing I did for him, even though he didn't say it directly. That's just how he is, he shows affection through acknowledgment of competence rather than explicit praise. I understand him so well~
Black Sapphire says I'm "reading too much into things" but what does HE know? He doesn't have the special connection that Master and I have. I was CREATED by Master's first lie! That makes me fundamentally different from other cookies. More in tune with him. More able to understand the nuances of my master’s brilliance.
Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if it was just the two of us in the Spire. No distractions. No missions. Just me and Master, and he'd finally have time to really SEE me. To appreciate everything I do for him. To maybe even...
The entry trails off into a small sketch of Shadow Milk's hand reaching toward hers.
Pure fantasy.
Candy Apple flips backward through more pages.
Master spent three hours in the tapestry hall again today. I tried to ask him about it but he told me to "occupy myself elsewhere." I wish he'd tell me what he's thinking about. I wish he'd TALK to me like he used to, back when I was first created. Back when everything was new and he seemed almost... interested? In me? In teaching me?
Maybe if I just work harder. Prove myself more useful. Then he'll pay attention again.
To be honest, I don’t have much to write today, dearest diary and future me. Shadow Milk Cookie is planning something, I know it! I just have to play my part as the perfect actor and deceive as my master wishes!
Black Sapphire says Master has been "distant" lately but I think he's just FOCUSED. He's planning something big, I can tell. Something that will show everyone—especially that PEST Pure Vanilla Cookie—just how magnificent he truly is!
I HATE Pure Vanilla Cookie. I hate how Master talks about him. I hate how Master's whole MOOD changes when Pure Vanilla is mentioned. I hate how Master spent WEEKS preparing that elaborate plan just to get Pure Vanilla's ATTENTION.
Why isn't MY attention enough? I'm RIGHT HERE. I'm DEVOTED. I would do ANYTHING for Master.
But no. It's always Pure Vanilla this, Pure Vanilla that. Like I don't even EXIST when Master is thinking about him.
It's not FAIR.
I had the dream again last night. The one where Master finally looks at me and says "You're my greatest creation, Candy Apple. My most perfect lie made manifest. I'm so proud of you."
And then he SMILES. A real smile. Just for me.
I woke up crying. I don't know why. The dream was happy. Wasn't it?
Maybe future-me would understand.
Master's plan with Pure Vanilla FAILED. Everything we worked for, everything I helped set up—the Apple Faerie disguise, the infiltration, EVERYTHING…
I HATE HIM.
And it wasn’t my fault! Not at all! I just want Master’s attention all for myself! Why can’t he understand that? Why’d he trap me in that stupid card, and try to
The part following that was scribbled out. Candy Apple knew what she wrote. But she continued reading whatever remained anyway.
Master has been in a terrible mood ever since. He barely acknowledges me anymore. Just floats through the Spire like a ghost, muttering to himself.
What did I do wrong? How can I fix this? How can I make Master HAPPY again?
Candy Apple stares at the pages, her own desperate words staring back at her.
When did I become so... pathetic?
She flips forward to today's blank page. Picks up her pen.
Hesitates.
What does she even write?
Master came home today. I touched his arm. His dough was fragile. He got angry. I don't understand.
No.
I think Master is in pain. Physical pain. From his dough being too soft. But he won't admit it. Won't let anyone help. Won't even acknowledge it.
No.
Am I just filling a void too? Am I just a substitute for what Master actually wants?
Does he even SEE me? Or does he just see a useful tool that happens to be shaped like a cookie?
Candy Apple's hand trembles. A drop of something wet falls onto the page, smearing the icing that had blotted from her pen.
She's crying.
When did she start crying?
She sets the pen down carefully. Closes the diary.
Looks around her room at all the drawings of Shadow Milk Cookie covering her walls.
Magnificent. Powerful. Perfect. Untouchable.
Lonely.
The word doesn't fit with the image she's built of him. But it sits in her mind anyway, refusing to leave.
She stands up, moving to her small desk where her art supplies are scattered. Picks up the diary again. Flips all the way back to the very first entry—written in her younger, less practiced handwriting:
Black Sapphire told me to keep this diary. So I shall! I suppose introductions are in order!
My name is Candy Apple Cookie! Master says I was born from his very first lie, which makes me SPECIAL! I'm going to work really hard and make him proud! Black Sapphire Cookie is teaching me lots of things. He's nice but he's not as amazing as Master.
Master is the most MAGNIFICENT cookie in the whole world! Someday I'm going to be just like him! Well, not EXACTLY like him because he's unique and perfect, but I want to be someone he can be proud of!
I'm so lucky to be his creation~
The entry is decorated with little hearts and stars.
So innocent.
So hopeful.
Candy Apple looks at her current self in the small mirror on her nightstand. Syrup coating cracked from stress. Eyes red from crying. Expression hollow.
What happened to that cookie?
When did devotion turn into desperation?
When did love turn into... whatever THIS is?
She doesn't have answers.
Just more questions.
And the persistent, unwelcome memory of Shadow Milk's soft dough beneath her fingers.
Candy Apple picks up her pen again.
I don’t like how Master’s dough feels. It makes me feel like he’s weak. I hate it. Maybe some part of me worries for him, maybe. I hope master is okay. He has to be okay. He’s the Beast of Deceit - he can’t get sick. He can’t be weak. Deceit is doing well across Crispia.
I don’t know how I feel anymore.