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At first, there was nothing but silence on the battlefield. With the Beast Cookies frozen in place, and the Ancients writhing in agony against the dusty floor, agony of having the manifestation of their soul torn forcefully from their body, there was nothing no one left to stop the abomination that their former friend had become.
Then, the shrill and manic laughter of their long-lasting enemy, Dark Enchantress Cookie, tore through the air, before she leapt right into the oven that was supposed to bake her new body free from flaw.
If anyone were to give up under these circumstances, they could hardly be blamed – in fact, nearly everyone on that battlefield had already made peace with the fact that it was only a matter of time till their dough be torn to shreds.
Yet, there was someone unwilling to give up. Not because they had any will left to fight; they had already found themselves in a situation just like this, had acted upon instinct and nearly gotten themselves along all their companions crumbled. This time, they refused to give up for the sake of protecting someone else.
So, when Pure Vanilla lifted his aching body, limbs straining with every heavy movement, no one noticed him, no one saw him move – especially not the witch that had jumped into the oven, nor the Cookie of Silence casting his chains over his former friends, trapping them in his frail prison.
Contrary to popular beliefs, it wasn’t his childhood friend who had simply strayed from the path for too long who he was after, no, it was his rival, the Cookie whose Soul Jam he owned, the Beast of Deceit, Shadow Milk Cookie. The one he had seen getting stabbed in front of his very own eyes.
When he cradled him in his arms, only then did he realize just how small his form was; the Beast of Deceit was about the same size as him, but that was only due to his exceptionally lanky legs. The rest of him however seemed small, weak, defeated.
He was coated in salt, blurring the usually vibrant azure of his jester attire. Ironically, this state helped in reducing the leakage of jam from the gaping wound in his guts. Pure Vanilla’s shaky but gentle fingers wiped away some of the dust from his face, admiring his soft features for a mere second, which evoked a tiny smile to form on his lips despite the tears he had shed – before he picked the magician up as though he weighed nothing, and carried him far, far away against the confused cries of his friends who followed him.
“Why? Why would you bring a Beast with you?!”, Financier Cookie cried, ruffing her hair in despair, trying to make sense of it all.
“Yeah! And what about the other Ancient heroes? They’re still affected by Dark Enchantress’ magic! How could you leave them to crumble while taking a wretched Beast with you instead?!”, Madelleine Cookie chimed in.
Pure Vanilla couldn’t take it anymore. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, looking back at the distorted form of his childhood friend, rising above the ground with a height sheer unnatural for Cookies. Here, in this canyon, he was far from safe, but at least he would go unnoticed.
“If you care so much, why don’t you go back and help out in battle? I… I’m far from suited for this task. I cannot understand Dark Enchantress Cookie, and neither can I understand White Lily Cookie, but I trust that she has some kind of trick up her sleeve. This isn’t the end. But what I know is that neither my understanding nor my healing magic will be useful in this battle. There is nothing I can do anymore. For them, that is. But there’s someone here who needs me.” He looked down at the unconscious Beast in his arms, a heavy sigh escaping him, “And I need them too. Call me selfish if that’s what you want, but I will not give up on him, I’ve promised him that much.”
“This isn’t like you! You’ve spent too much time in that other-realm! But… As descendants of the Vanilla kingdom, we respect your decision. However, we cannot follow. Please, excuse us,” Financier Cookie stated, and with that, the two made their way over to the battlefield once more.
At last, Pure Vanilla was alone – and almost immediately, he fell to his knees from the sheer weight of abandoning his friends, the dying of his Soul Jam, and the Cookie in his arms who he refused to give up on.
Carefully, he placed his hand atop his forehead; it was cold, too cold. With what was left of his white magic, he dispersed the spell that Silent Salt had put upon the Beast, a task proving to be simpler than he had expected. Perhaps, it only worked because the Shadow Milk had previously been injured gravely. After all, being stabbed in the guts was certainly no minor injury.
When even that was healed, the wound closing slowly, Pure Vanilla dared gazing at him again. At his closed eyes, his relaxed muscles, so unnaturally peaceful for someone so destructive. His dull, lifeless, grey Soul Jam, the same form as his own. He looked strangely beautiful in his misery.
Just earlier, the two gemstones had established that they could coexist. That Truth and Deceit are as necessary to establishing knowledge as adding flavor to newly baked dough, or as adding blueberries to a blueberry pie, and raspberries to a raspberry pie, before realizing that, rather than making two pies, a mixed berry tart would not only be much simpler but grant more flavorful results.
In other words, Pure Vanilla wouldn’t let go of his self-imposed mission to, by some means, understand his counterpart and set him free at the same time, for how could he reject someone whose pain he had felt firsthand?
“Please, Shadow Milk… please be okay…”, he muttered quietly over and over, the Beast’s limp hand pressed against his lips tightly. After what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or so, he could feel the Cookie in his arms stir slightly.
“Ugh… how pathetic you are…”, Shadow Milk’s annoyingly high-pitched voice tore through the air, followed by a strained and painful cough. He frowned in disgust as he watched the other’s face light up in record speed. “I would have thought about sparing your life for now had you simply healed me back there… At least then I could’ve used my momentum of surprise to finish off that traitor. But now that your Soul Jam is dull and useless, under what premise do you expect me to let you go?”
Pure Vanilla couldn’t listen to his words. He was simply too overcome with joy to think about the Beast’s wrath. “Shadow Milk, I’m so glad you’re alive!”, he cheered, pulling the Cookie who was already in his embrace closer, until the latter was pressed into his chest against his will.
“Let me go! Did you forget that I can crumble you on the spot?!”, Shadow Milk’s muffled voice was barely audible. Contrary to his words, he wasn’t fighting the affection he was being shown; he sat still on his lap, letting the embrace happen.
When Pure Vanilla finally obliged, gently holding him by the shoulders as he loosened the embrace, he gazed into two furious eyes. “You dumb idiot! There’s a war going on over there and I’m missing it all! I’m missing the greatest show on all of Earthbread because of YOU!”, he cried, but his dough still ached with every movement, and he didn’t quite know how to maneuver his body without the magic he had been granted by his Soul Jam. He didn’t have his other-realm at the ready, nor could he play tricks on the other’s mind. For the first time in his life, he was completely at a loss for what to do. While Pure Vanilla could still work white magic, the Beast of Deceit had nothing. How pitiful, oh, just how laughable he was.
“Shadow Milk. You don’t need to worry about that war. You’re safe for now. And even if we will meet our end here in the near future, I… want to have a conversation with you. When our Soul Jams resonated earlier, you felt it too, didn’t you? This wasn’t the first time that happened. Shadow Milk, I now know about the pain you must have endured. I have not experienced what you have, but I know how much it must have hurt you! So, please… please don’t close off your heart before me… Please, talk to me earnestly, without putting on a show.”
Shadow Milk stared up at him wide-eyed, listening to his desperate words and watching his resolve crumble as tears began welling up in his eyes. He wanted to mock him. To laugh at him. But he knew that his situation wasn’t much better, that, had Pure Vanilla not come to his rescue, he would have been crumbled much faster. At the very least, he owed him a conversation in those precious minutes of time he had bought for him with the small price of the trust of his friends.
“Alright, geez… stop crying, it makes you look even more foolish than usually,” he hissed, rubbing his temples. After a moment of silence, he rolled his eyes. “What? Entertain me. Don’t just stare at me, talk to me like you promised!”
Pure Vanilla smiled. Shadow Milk found it creepy, along with the way his wide pupils were fixated on him. “Ah, yes. I’ve always just wanted to have an eye to eye conversation with you. You’ve made me feel what you felt as the Fount of Knowledge, and it made me realize how horrible your life must’ve been. You showed me that for a reason, didn’t you?”
The jester averted his gaze, but Pure Vanilla simply cupped his cheeks and turned his face toward him. Still, his pupils wouldn’t budge, angrily glaring off somewhere into the distance. So, the blond tried again.
“Did you simply wish to crush me with the weight of knowing? With carrying the same burden as you have? Or did you secretly…”, he placed a hand onto Shadow Milk’s empty Soul Jam, “Want me to understand you? Did you want to be shown compassion and care? Has something within you longed to no longer feel lonely?”
“Hands off or I’ll crumble you on the spot,” the other growled, yet did not make any attempt at moving away, leaving his lap or shaking his hand off. He just sat there; still and unwavering. “I don’t care about your compassion-crap! Perhaps my goal when I made you experience my life as the Fount of Knowledge was to… gain pleasure out of watching you suffer! That’s all there is to it,” he grumbled eventually, his pointy ears turning downward and twitching slightly. Pure Vanilla had noticed this habit of his a lot; it would usually occur whenever he was lying without confidence.
He smiled warmly, pinching the jester’s plump cheeks. “I now understand you more than you think. You’re lying to me.”
Shadow Milk’s eyelids began to twitch with pure rage. “You don’t know how to distinguish Truth from Deceit. Especially not in a world so beautifully drenched in chaos!”
As if it was personally demonstrating the Beast’s words, a sudden gust of hot wind wandered through the canyon. Shadow Milk’s bangs swayed softly as he glared up at the healer, who was trying to shield him from it. In the distance, they could hear footsteps that sounded like someone was shaking mountains.
“Dark Enchantress Cookie… Didn’t you try to understand her too? See how that worked out for you,” the jester mocked with the biggest grin plastered onto his face.
Pure Vanilla nodded slowly, keeping his hand on Shadow Milk’s face who still hadn’t followed through with his threats. “Yes. I did try. I tried my best to understand her. In the end, it wasn’t enough. We are simply too different. But you…” He let his thumb run over his other half’s cheeks. “You’re similar to me. We are like two sides of the same coin. I understand you like no one else can.”
“Pfft, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! We are not similar at all!”, the Beast laughed.
“We were both so very lonely. You, because you were too bright for anyone to follow when you spoke. Me, because I was too ambitious for the ordinary, yet lacked ambition for her. We both tend to distance ourselves from everyone else when we’re in pain. But we don’t have to be lonely anymore. We can be by each other’s sides.”
Shadow Milk finally slapped his hand away. “You’re lame. To think that you are supposed to be my other half… unbelievable.” However, his face betrayed him, as his cheeks, which were still being rubbed in caring motions, had already taken on a reddish hue from merely listening to the healer’s words.
“I have no problem with you thinking that way about me, Shadow Milk. As long as I’m on your mind at all, I’m content,” the blond chuckled softly, “But I do believe that, if you were a little less harsh on others and yourself, you would be much happier, too.”
“You’re spouting nothing but empty nonsense! Do you hear yourself? I’ll tell you what, I’m harsh to you because I hate you! Because you stole my Soul Jam, just like that half-baked fool stole the traitor’s, and look at where we are now! We are going to be crumbled by her! I truly despise your kind.”
Pure Vanilla stopped in his movements for a brief moment, before gently tapping the Beast’s forehead, who began fuming. “I understand your anger, Shadow Milk, I truly do. I’m mad at her too. How could she betray us like this? How could I have betrayed you at the Spire? Sometimes, we do things we don’t like doing for the sake of a greater goal. That’s what navigating this world and surviving in it is all about. I don’t mean to lecture you, I’m sure you know all of this already. What I’m trying to say is… Even if we make mistakes, we deserve forgiveness. And I’m willing to forgive you for everything you’ve done. Will you do the same for me?”
Shadow Milk’s face scrunched with anger and he turned away. Still the blush on his cheeks wouldn’t subside. Eventually, he grumbled quietly, “Whatever. You can forgive me all you want; none of this matters anymore. We’ll be crumbled soon. Also, you must be insane if you think I’m going to forgive you for betraying me! Although… Although it was a great show… Better than the one I’m missing right now because of you, I’m sure.” He averted his gaze, staring at the ground, his little pointy ears drooping – not with anger, with a melancholic sense of acceptance.
“Well, I’m glad,” Pure Vanilla began, gently cupping the other’s cheeks once more – though much gentler this time, and only this time did the other lean into his touch. “I’m glad you’re talking to me, I’m glad you aren’t running away like last time...” The blond wrapped his arms around the Beast’s small frame, torn hands sinking into the soft fabric of his jester attire. He pressed his head into his shoulder, and the latter could swear he felt it grow wet. How pathetic his other half was, crying into his enemy’s arms, Shadow Milk thought as he buried his own face into the crook of his neck.
“Perhaps… Perhaps this isn’t the worst way to go out…”, he mumbled, closing his eyes. In the next moment, a faint glow began radiating from the empty husks of their Soul Jams, before it gradually turned brighter than ever before.