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Elder Faerie Cookie took a deep breath, then let it out. He could feel the way the air changed behind him with the presence of the Virtues.
So many conversations led to this moment. He’d have many opportunities to count the exact number; even so, he never could’ve imagined things would get to this point.
Standing at the base of the Guardian Tree, he turned to face the five of them. Exhausted — no, haggard, worn down by grief and pain and betrayal. He ran out of synonyms for hurt far too soon.
Too much loss. Too much heartache. It was too much for any one Cookie, and it was only thanks to a shared Dream that they’d spoken of this pain at all.
The Fount of Knowledge stepped forward first, passing a book towards Elder Faerie with a weary smile, a few of the twinkling eyes in his flowing haircing following the curve of his cheeks.
“I stayed up all night to finish this — the legend we leave behind in your more-than-capable hands. Don’t lose it, I didn’t make any copies.”
“I still hate that we have to become the Enemy, in Their eyes,” Happiness sighed, drawing a hand down one of her own wings as she looked askance; “But if that is the cost, so the Faeries are left in peace…”
“It’s just a safety measure. The Silver Tree Knights are more than capable of protecting the kingdom in the worst case, but… Well, it does bring peace of mind, to know Cookies will be dissuaded from invading to sate their curiosity, or even for noble intentions.”
Solidarity nodded towards her, and Volition canted her head to the side.
“In any case, we all witnessed the Dream. I’m sure Knowledge’s story isn’t so far from fiction.”
“This is the wise choice! And we must remember, it is not permanent. One day we will walk free again, and see what Earthbread has become,” Change grinned, nudging Volition until she delivered the smile he was fishing for.
Elder Faerie ran his hand over the cover tenderly. Legend of the Beasts. It was campy; he couldn’t help smiling, and he shook his head before looking up over the Virtues.
“All of you… Are making an unimaginable sacrifice. I will do all I can to ensure your realms are kept safe in wait for your return.”
An altar had been set up at the base of the tree, and Elder Faerie Cookie stepped up in front of it, setting the book aside before drawing his blade.
“… Whenever you’re ready, my friends.”
The gravity of the decision they were about to commit to set in, and all five Virtues hesitated for a moment, their Soul Jams held in their hands.
Volition, predictably, stepped up first, setting her jam upon the altar and kneeling, lowering her head. They’d walked through the ritual several times together; the movements were practised and fluid, as were the words that fell from her lips.
“I sunder this burden,” She declared; “O Guardian Tree, halve my numbness. Bring to me a Cookie with the strength of will to fight onwards, even in the darkest night.”
Elder Faerie felt the Tree sing, and brought the tip of his blade down upon the center of the Soul Jam. A flash of light accompanied the split of the stone, and branches arched down to collect one half.
“Hm,” Volition hummed as she lifted her head. The others tilted their own.
“Hm, what?”
“I expected it to hurt. I felt nothing.”
“You haven’t felt anything for the past several weeks,” Knowledge pointed out dryly, his expression deadpan. Volition merely shrugged, standing and returning to place.
“Well, if you doubt me so, perhaps you should go next.”
“… Very well! I shall.”
He puffed up and huffed, striding forward until he could place the stone down on the altar and take his knee, lowering his head in a reflection of Volition’s pose moments before.
“I sunder this burden. O Guardian Tree… Halve my madness. Bring to me a Cookie with the mind to ask the right questions — to themself, and to the world.”
Another sharp clang, another split. The tree collected one half, and Knowledge hesitated before collapsing backwards with an anguished cry.
“Knowledge,” Happiness cried out, alarmed, lurching alongside Change; “Are you alright!?”
“He’s fine,” Solidarity grunted as Volition frowned, unamused; “It’s a jest.”
Now splayed on the ground, Knowledge stuck out his tongue at the others, blowing a raspberry.
“None of you are any fun.”
“Ha ha ha!”
“… Except Change,” He swapped his frown for a wry grin as Change approached and plucked him off the ground, setting him back on his feet and sending him towards the others with a clap on his shoulder.
“Well! I, for one, have been looking forward to this. Let us see what happens when the Soul Jam of Change is split in two!”
The gem shimmered upon the altar, and Change chuckled as he took his knee, bowing his head.
“I sunder this burden! O Guardian Tree, halve my loss, and bring to me a Cookie with the cunning to survive an ever-shifting world.”
As half of his Soul Jam was collected by the Tree, Happiness’ lip quivered, and she fluttered forward to lay a hand on his arm.
“You promise me it didn’t hurt? I don’t trust the other two.”
Ignoring the offended cry and unaffected grunt of their fellows, Change chuckled, patting her hand in reassurance.
“You won’t feel a thing, Happiness. Be not afraid!”
“… Very well…”
Taking a shivering breath in, she parted from his side and approached the altar, shakily placing her own Soul Jam upon the altar and taking her knee, squeezing her eyes shut as she clasped her hands together.
“… I… I sunder this burden! O Guardian Tree, halve my loneliness… Bring to me a Cookie who can be the aegis to my arrow, and protect our joy with valiance!”
She flinched at the sharp clang of the split — then sagged with relief when pain never came, opening her eyes with a shaky smile towards Elder Faerie. She joined her peers looking much lighter, and Solidarity stepped forward at last to lay his own upon the altar, dipping his head.
“I sunder this burden,” He rumbled unceremoniously; “O Guardian Tree, bring to me a Cookie with the fortitude to overcome failure and keep fighting for the better.”
He didn’t linger as the tree collected half of the Jam, rising as Elder Faerie set down his blade across the altar and knelt to collect the remaining halves scattered on the ground around his feet.
With gentle fingers, he dusted them off, watching as the lights within flickered, adjusting to being so abruptly split in twain. At least the stones seemed to be coming into their new shapes, glimmering as they realized what values they represented anew.
Unable to bring himself to break his silence, he approached the former Virtues, handing over their stones one by one. None of them needed prompting to attune to their new values, shutting their eyes and reaching out to their respective lights.
… Brows began to furrow. Elder Faerie frowned worriedly — turning his head as Happiness spoke first.
“…. It’s… Sloth.”
“Mine is Destruction.”
“Silence…”
“Apathy.”
“… Deceit,” The Fount capped off, frowning deeply as he opened his eyes and held up his stone; “So, what — the Tree shafted us all? We got stuck with the objectively worse halves?”
“In a sense, it is fitting. We are supposed to be the villains, are we not?”
Apathy’s point made Deceit grunt and nod in concession, though he still seemed unimpressed with his new value. Silence grunted, turning his head towards Elder Faerie.
“Is all ready for the sealing ritual?”
“… Yes,” Elder Faerie nodded, meeting Silence’s gaze — or, the void where his gaze was meant to be — with a breath; “But… Remember my warning, my friend. Are you truly sure you —?”
“I am.”
“Very well.”
In turning, he missed Deceit’s slight squint, in favour of stepping back towards the altar with Silence at his side. The knight’s blade was already drawn as Elder Faerie collected his own from the altar’s surface, running a hand down the length before facing the Tree.
… One could not ask him to so much as recall the words spoken, the actions taken. His heart ached to try and remember. This ritual, the source of such pain, brought him only regret, and he wanted to forget every syllable. Never again should it be spoken; never again should it be considered an option.
What he does allow himself to remember is the gentle light of the Tree as its roots parted, a hollow in the base big enough for the five to fit. And he remembers Silence staggering, his armour seeming more hollow than before as smoke billowed off of its charred faces. He does remember the shock and horror from all except Deceit — whom, of course, couldn’t help but know what the ritual would cost their dearest friend of all, the knight they had relied upon before coming to this last resort.
And he does remember each final goodbye - a clap on the shoulder from Destruction, a bow from Apathy, a kiss on the cheek from Sloth, a tip of the invisible hat from Deceit.
Silence wasn’t allowed to say goodbye his way; the way he staggered, still adjusting to his new body (or, more aptly, lack thereof) in the armour made him sway, and Elder Faerie refused to make his old friend walk alone. Instead, he supported him on one side, walking him into the hollow until Sloth and Destruction could take over.
The four Beasts surrounded their warden, and Sloth rested her chin on Silence’s shoulder, nervous again.
“… I admit, now that it’s real, I can’t help but be scared. It’s going to be a long time, in here.”
“It’s for the best,” Deceit grunted, and Silence canted his helm forwards.
“Do not be afraid. It will be akin to falling into a deep slumber. My realm… It is peaceful.”
“Oh… That sounds nice.”
She shut her eyes, trying not to be scared, and the others huddled closer.
Elder Faerie allowed himself one last look at the former Virtues before he withdrew, watching the roots crawl over the entrance, silver chains forming from the puddles of metal surrounding the Tree and beginning to lock them up.
“Until we meet again, my friends.”
… Sound could most certainly breach the netting of chains and roots, but no response came from the hollow. It was done; they were in Silence’s care, now.
Elder Faerie let out a long, slow breath, allowing himself a moment of grief. Just how could it possibly have gotten so bad, so fast? These Cookies, noble Cookies, sent down by the Witches themselves… They hadn’t deserved to fall from grace like this. Agony had made their reactions to tragedy and lethargy impulsive, but their hearts, their cores — those were still pure. Full of hope, and love for Cookiekind.
Lingering on such questions, he imagined, would avail him naught.
He returned to the altar at last, collecting the Legend from where he’d laid it as he left the base of the tree behind, allowing himself a faint smile.
He might as well read what history was about to become. Best be aware of the part he had to play.
. . .
The realm of Silence was… Annoyingly, just slightly off-white.
Deceit didn’t find his eyes terribly strained as he peered around, presently contentedly sandwiched against the other five Beasts. It wasn’t so bad, really. Just quiet.
The lights of their own Soul Jams gradually joined the din, graciously easing the purity with colours and shades — black, red, ivory, pink, and blue blotted out the monotony, a soft dance of gentle colours that he, personally, found relaxing.
The five of them persisted in this silence for what felt like an eternity — sitting with the weight of finality, appreciating the peace they’d all been longing for. This was it; their break. Their vacation. Their relief of duty, until their burden was effectively split.
Sloth, finally, broke the silence, peering over Silence himself to look at Deceit.
“My dearest, can I ask… What, exactly, did you write in the Legend? If we are to leave this tree one day, it would help to be on the same page.”
Ah, right. The tale was finished so last-minute, he hadn’t had a chance to fill his co-stars in on the script! He chuckled, shutting his eyes and lolling his head against Silence in turn.
“If you needed a story to fall asleep to, you could have asked more plainly.”
“Don’t tease, I’m being serious!”
“Aha! Lighten up! Hm, we have plenty of time to kill, but I suppose this is a good enough story to fill the void for now. Keep your ears sharp, you won’t wanna miss any details…”
In the Ancient days of Earthbread, there stood five Virtues of Cookiekind, bearers of the Soul Jam, mouthpieces of the Witches. With their powers, they swore to uphold their truest values and bring prosperity to Cookiekind.
Yet, burdened by duty, these Cookies began to turn under their Virtues, corrupted by tragedy and magic. One by one, the Virtues became Beasts, and their sanctuaries became prisons of suffering.
The Faerie King mourned for those who suffered under the Beast’s wrath, and pleaded with the Witches to entrap the monsters tearing the land asunder. In return, they granted him the power and means to seal the Beasts away for all of Cookiekind’s safety.
Calling upon the strength of the Silver Tree, the King used the Witches’ spell to trap and lock away the Beasts, halving their Soul Jams and turning them out unto the world — in the hopes that, one day, new heroes would take their rightful places in the seats of the former Virtues, bringing Earthbread into peace once more…
. . .
Elder Faerie Cookie smiled to himself as he looked over every painstaking illustration. Deceit had truly spared no effort — as was fitting, for him, always with a flair for the dramatic.
Yes. This story was good enough; it would do. None of the Beast’s mad followers would have a leg to stand on with the average Cookie; it made the Faeries look like heroes. They would be left well enough alone, and the fanaticism would gradually die out on its own.
… And yet, he couldn’t sit comfortably with the idea that this lie might persist beyond himself. No; his dearest friends deserved an out, a cheat sheet, a secret truth.
He drew a blank journal out from one of his shelves, collected a quill, and brought pen to paper.
To the guardian who follows in my footsteps; I leave to you the true Legend of the Beasts.
In the Ancient days of Earthbread, there stood five Virtues of Cookiekind…