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The Dark Cacao Kingdom is one of the most remote kingdoms on earthbread. The journey is harsh no matter the distance or where you begin the trek from and the kingdom's weather is unsuited to travel on foot for ten months of the year— even for cookies accustomed to the cold— unless you're accompanied by a denizen of the kingdom. A lifetime ago, the group of cookies now known as ancients held their meetings routinely in the Vanilla Kingdom; beautiful, lush and peaceful where it sat at near the center of the continent.
Though the rebuilding effort is underway, there is no longer a meeting room to house them.
What remains of the Cheese Kingdom is unsuitable for the secrecy they need, and similarly the Hollyberry castle is bustling this time of year— still filled to the brim with citizens who were displaced during battles which took place in the city streets.
Dark Cacao was honored to extend an invitation to stay within the rebuilt walls of his home to his old friends, along with his ironclad defenses, once again. Though the timing wasn't ideal for the haste of their meeting, and the kingdom is inhospitable for many of their allies— it was the only place all five cookies felt would be safe enough for them to gather.
Golden Cheese arrived first. She packed lighter than usual to fly the distance from her kingdom faster than any cookie could walk. Her voice bounces off the walls of the castle, cutting through the low voices of staff and soldiers preparing for war, and Dark Cacao could swear the snow gathered along the garden's railings melts in her wake as she walks past.
Hollyberry came next with Wildberry Cookie in tow. She brought juice to pair with bitter dark chocolate and more laughter than any four walls could house— spilling from doorways and blanketing the kingdom with content to its farthest reaches.
Shortly after he dispersed the discreet invitations to their private meeting, Dark Cacao received a prompt correspondence from Pure Vanilla Cookie to confirm his intent to attend. The page smelled of delicate vanilla and was written by a neat, unfamiliar hand. Though the years, his friend has had several faithful retainers dedicated to putting their king's word to paper; and more recently the barely legible scrawl of Gingerbrave has signed Pure Vanilla's name, as well as the more careful script of his wizard.
But Cacao knows the group parted ways with Pure Vanilla some time ago, and his friend made no mention of acquiring a new retainer as he typically would. The words are drawn across the page with fine loops and a gentle sway writ into the penmanship that strikes him as distinct. An artistry bleeding into the blue ink which he can't place.
As days passed after Golden Cheese and Hollyberry arrived, Dark Cacao grew restless. But, on the eve before their meeting was set to take place the palace guards announced the arrival of a visiting king without so much as a scratch on his smiling face as Cacao rushed to greet him. And has he took his closest friend's hand, his skin was barely cold from his travel through the snow.
Now, after rising with hearts heavy for a meeting that would define an age, silence hangs over the air as four cookies stare at the seat still left empty at their table.
White Lily doesn't come.
Not in the time they delay the meeting to give her time, or during the exhaustive battle plan which follows. Strategies and backup plans for their backup plans to cover every drop of the scarce knowledge they have of Dark Enchantress Cookie combined.
Pure Vanilla doesn't say where he heard so much information of the landscape that awaits them, but as long as his source was accurate it doesn't matter. And hours pass running through everything they could be up against in the final stand on enemy territory.
Dark Cacao allows his eyes to wander at the tail-end of their meeting, watching slender fingers trace the rim of a teacup searching for the handle and steam paint his cheeks with a pale pink as he takes a tentative sip. Pure Vanilla's lips press together as he lowers the cup from them, the tip of his tongue darting out to catch the last drop as the curve into a suppressed smile.
It's the first time he's had the chance to see him— to see any of his old friends— since the beasts emerged. Cacao isn't cold enough to say he hasn't missed him dearly. Missed them all, of course.
"And how has the rebuilding effort been progressing, Pure Vanilla? If you're in need of any extra hands, please don't hesitate to ask." The object of Dark Cacao's attention is currently the center of conversation, his long lashes fluttering as his eyes open only a fraction as the others offer him aid.
"Thank you, truly, I appreciate all your kind gestures since my return from the Beast Yeast. Our affairs are currently in order and the reconstruction is on schedule as planned. I would hate to burden any of you as you're still recovering from your own ordeals. The castle is not at the top of my priorities, but as soon as it's fit I would love to have you all back— I can only apologize that it wasn't in order already for our meeting today." Pure Vanilla's soft voice carries the conviction of a ruler so evenly and with a sweet smile to chase his words, commanding respect as though it was settled into his very bones. Effortless in a way Dark Cacao could spend another hundred years chasing and never grasp.
The others go back and forth, particularly Hollyberry, but their friend has never easily changed his mind once it's been made up.
"Now," Pure Vanilla's teacup clatters against the saucer, missing the center, "If we're finished with business for the day perhaps we could reconvene over dinner to catch up without all this lingering here?" He makes a wide gesture with one hand at the rough battle map they'd drawn up.
"I could do with the time to stretch out these old bones."
Dark Cacao exchanges glances with the cookies on either side of him. It's true they all arrived in the morning and haven't left this room since. It's nearly evening now, and conscious of all the time he's spent pouring over his notes Cacao can't deny the stiffness that's made itself at home up his back. None of them are as young as they used to be.
They agree to disband until the kitchens are finished with tonight's preparations, but before Dark Cacao can make his own exit a hand snags in the sleeve of his robes.
"Would you escort me to the springs, Cacao? I'm afraid my memory isn't what it used to be." The coy smile playing on Pure Vanilla's lips tells a different story.
"Of course, my friend." The smaller cookie's arm tucks into his easily as he allows himself to be led up the main staircase and through halls no doubt etched into his mind's eye irreplaceably— the same path he once took every spring on his annual visit to the Cacao kingdom through carpeted halls and past doors that haven't changed for an age.
He hasn't moved the furniture in his bedchambers in many, many years. Pure Vanilla moves through the space confidently just as he did when they were both young, skimming his fingertips along the bedposts to the same old dresser they knew they would find beside it.
"Some things never change, do they?" Stripped bare of formality, his voice is heavy under the weight of countless restless nights. Pure Vanilla rolls his shoulders and the heavy shawl draped across them falls to circle his feet, the broach which holds his souljam coming loose into his palm and without thinking Dark Cacao surges forward.
Pure Vanilla turns towards him in full as his fingers brush the casing which houses his soul, skirt fanning out around him as a soft noise escapes from the normally composed cookie. When they settle beside each other, the pad of Dark Cacao's thumb rests against the smooth, curved surface of a souljam which isn't his.
He's held the other's soul before, years ago. Knows the weight of it as if it was yesterday.
"I— Forgive me. I don't know what came over me." And Pure Vanilla has the gall to laugh as the other takes a hasty step back, breaking his connection to his soul.
Without his outer dressings and the light of his souljam, now safely resting on the bedside table, Pure Vanilla looks so small even after all these years. After hearing word of his friends' transformations Dark Cacao feared he would hardly recognize his companions. But all the cookie standing before him has changed is the sheer magnitude of his power. And Cacao has always thought power looked good flushed across his oldest friend's skin but this awakening of his souljam is like nothing else.
The renewed strength has touched every visible inch of Pure Vanilla. Dusted in the color on his face and tinging the elegance of his movement; even in the way light seems to glint of his golden hair where it frames his face and teases the curve of his chin. The air itself bends around him, letting Pure Vanilla glide through a room and command every molecule.
"I can tell you're staring, you know." The words are playful, but Dark Cacao flinches. As if to make a point, Pure Vanilla lifts his chin to look at him with mismatches eyes which hold their own light— gazing through him.
There was a selfish part of Cacao that shamefully thought of a power awakened in his friend so great that it could have granted him his sight anew. But he knows the way Pure Vanilla would frown should he even mention the subject aloud.
"I didn't think it possible for you to have grown more beautiful in our time apart, my friend, but your new form has only proved me wrong yet again." And Pure Vanilla treats him to a bright laugh, clasping both hands tight at the base of his throat as his head tips back— knocking his hat askew.
"You flatter me still, Cacao. I'm certain your soul has been reshaped just the same." At the mention of his power's source, Dark Cacao's fingers twitch for a hilt which isn't there. Stored safely while he's safely within his own walls.
Pure Vanilla frees the hidden zipper of his robes expertly, dragging it down the length of his side and splitting that brilliant white fabric to reveal a dark layer beneath.
"My power has always paled beside your prowess." Dark Cacao bows his head out of habit, and when he lifts his gaze again it's with gratitude that his friend isn't close enough to feel how his heart jumps to his throat.
Now dressed down to his plain black underclothes, Pure Vanilla has discarded his hat onto the bed to unveil a mass of blonde hair bunched up at the crown of his head— far, far more than he's ever kept previously— rather than the short wave Cacao was expecting.
The chokes sound he can't stop from rising in his throat draws the other cookie's attention before he can find the words to say.
"My attendant has been insistent upon refusing to cut it for me. But, it's far easier for me to manage with another pair of hands." Pure Vanilla slides the ornament wound through the messy style out easily, drawing a short dagger from his hair rather than a chopstick or a comb and spinning it gracefully in his palm.
A thick curtain of golden hair falls to frame his shoulders, uncurling to reach his hips with ease as it sways. Longer than Dark Cacao's even after his own growth spurt from his awakening.
Despite his comment about struggling with the length, Pure Vanilla's hair shines in the dim light of the bedroom and looks well kept— brushed straight and still smooth after his travel to the kingdom. Even with the sheer weight of so much hair the ends curl as they always have, reaching back up towards their source.
"It suits you." It's beautiful.
"You must know, warriors in my kingdom boast their strength with the length of their hair. Only the finest fighters and commanders could navigate the battlefield and leave with not a single strand cut." You're more than worthy of such a grand display.
Pure Vanilla runs his fingers through the arrow-straight length, twisting the end absently as he turns to hide his face.
"You don't think it's too much?" Dark Cacao can't help himself any longer and steps forward, raising a hand to pool liquid gold in his palm. Soft as silk.
"You're perfect."
The heady rush of breath Pure Vanilla lets out curls into a laugh, his head tipping back to look up in Cacao's direction with both eyes fully open. He should hardly feel the smaller cookie jab his chest with a finger, but it feels like something molten burying into his dough.
"Well, I certainly hope you're prepared to stand by that whilst you're the one brushing it." Pure Vanilla shakes his hair loose from Cacao's featherlight grip. "I expect to see you in the hotspring shortly."
The way delicate strands of gold fall into his face to frame that wicked smile could demand just about anything of Dark Cacao, and he would oblige without a thought.