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Dark Choco could feel his face burning up, the heat creeping from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. No matter how hard he tried to keep his composure, the warmth betrayed him, rising with every heartbeat, as though the very air around him had conspired to bare emotions he wished so desperately to hide.
He hated being sick, he really did.
Being sick meant having to stay in bed, unable to go anywhere. Being sick meant not being able to do work.
Dang it, he was the prince, for Witches’ sake. He was supposed to go out there and help his people, not laying in this bed.
After his reconciliation with his father, he vowed to protect his kingdom from future terror. He did not take that promise lightly. Every breath since had been dedicated to proving his worth—not just as the son of Dark Cacao, but as a prince, a protector, someone who would not falter when the kingdom needed him most.
And yet here he was, confined to silk sheets and pillows, his body betraying him with weakness he could neither fight nor will away. His hands clenched the blanket at his sides, frustration simmering beneath his fever.
What kind of protector lay in bed while others bore the weight of duty?
His chest tightened, not from illness alone but from the suffocating guilt pressing against his ribs. He hated this. Hated the helplessness. Hated the reminder that, despite everything, he was still fragile—still not enough.
He knew his father asked him to lay in bed, to rest and recover, yet the command weighed heavier on him than any sword. To obey meant admitting his weakness, confessing through silence that he could not stand beside the king in strength, not yet.
The memory of his father’s stern but worried gaze flickered in his mind. “Your duty is to heal first, my son.” The words were spoken with authority, yet gentled by something softer—something Dark Choco had only recently learned to recognize as care.
And still… it stung.
Dark Choco turned his face away from the door, curling slightly into himself as though hiding from his own thoughts. He wanted so badly to rise, to show that he was not a burden. But his body, hot and heavy with fever, refused him.
Until he decided to get out of bed for some strollings.
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Mercurial Knight was taken aback when the new Guardian, White Lily, asked him to assist her on the journey to the Dark Cacao Kingdom for a reunion between friends as well as a meeting for the upcoming war.
Usually, it would be Silverbell who took up such a role, while he remained in the Faerie Kingdom to provide protection and security. His duty had always been to safeguard the heart of their home, not to step beyond its borders. And yet, White Lily, in her quiet but resolute manner, seemed determined to change that.
She had spoken of it gently but firmly: how each faerie deserved the chance to see beyond their own sky, to understand the world they had long kept themselves apart from. Knowledge was not to be locked away like a treasure, she had said, but carried, shared, and nurtured. To her, this journey was not simply a mission—it was a chance for growth.
He did not decline, as he would do anything for the new Guardian—for the sake of the Silver Tree and the Faerie Kingdom. His loyalty ran deep, bound not only by duty but by a quiet reverence for the life that the tree sustained and the future White Lily now carried upon her shoulders. To refuse her was unthinkable; to follow her was as natural as breathing.
The Dark Cacao Kingdom, for him, was unknown. He knew it only as a stern military state, its people hardened by relentless winters and their ruler, King Dark Cacao, renowned for his unyielding strength and iron will. Beyond that, it was a mystery. The land, the customs, the hearts of its people—these were things Mercurial Knight had never touched, never seen with his own eyes.
Despite his unfamiliarity to the land, he was familiar with someone who hailed from that distant land—the prince of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, Dark Choco. Their paths had crossed once, during the prince’s time in Beast-Yeast. He was cautious of the prince, for his past relating to the Darkness, posing a threat to the Faerie Kingdom.
However, after some of their encounters, he had witnessed the prince’s attempt to redeem himself, making up for all of his wrongdoings in the past.
Everyone deserved a second chance, Mercurial Knight thought, so long as they were willing to reach for it. And Dark Choco, despite his burdens, was still reaching. Mercurial Knight respected him for that—respected the unyielding will in his heart, as well as the skill he displayed in battle, which never failed to amaze him.
They had shared conversations between the clash of sword and spear, words exchanged in quiet moments of rest, and lessons drawn from each spar. Through every strike and parry, Mercurial Knight glimpsed not only the strength of Dark Choco’s blade, but the strength of his spirit, still fighting to be more than the shadow of his past.
Mercurial Knight would not lie to himself—the prince stirred something within him. A feeling he thought had long withered away, buried when he cast aside his flavors and bathed himself in silver. It was unfamiliar now, almost fragile, yet it lingered all the same, refusing to be silenced.
They parted ways when Dark Choco left the kingdom, much to Mercurial Knight’s quiet dismay—an uncommon thing for him, who rarely allowed attachments to take root. Yet he could not cast aside the images of the prince.
His soft smile whenever they talked, his determined gaze in the midst of sparring, the way his voice carried both weight and warmth—it all returned to him in moments of stillness, like echoes that refused to fade.
Silverbell call it yearning
Yearning. The word itself lingered, heavy and unrelenting, as though it carried more weight than any blade he had ever wielded. It was not simply wanting, nor the passing ache of absence—it was something deeper, sharper, a pull that sank into his very core. Mercurial Knight tried to dismiss it, to deny the truth in Silverbell’s gentle smile when he spoke it. Yet the more he turned from it, the louder the word rang within him.
Yearning. That was what Dark Choco had left him with. A wound, a tether, a longing that refused to be silenced.
Sugarfly, once Silverfly, called it love
Love was something Mercurial Knight never expected to hear spoken in connection to himself. He had long since stripped such notions away, locking them out when he shed his flavors and cloaked himself in silver. To him, love was distant—an echo from another life, belonging to someone he no longer was.
He did not understand how love worked in this case. How could it take root in him, who had sworn himself to duty alone? How could it bloom in the quiet spaces Dark Choco left behind, in the curve of a smile, in the clash of sparring blades? It was bewildering, unsettling, yet undeniable.
Dark Choco’s smile still carved deep into his mind, and his heart got heavier every time Dark Choco appeared in his thoughts.
Maybe he hoped to meet the prince once again on this trip.
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The trip was fairly long, stretching across harsh terrain and unyielding winds. It took four days before they finally arrived at the gates of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. The journey had been a test of endurance—icy nights beneath starless skies, days where the snow seemed endless, and silence broken only by the crunch of their footsteps upon the frozen ground.
By the time the looming walls of the kingdom rose before them, shrouded in frost and shadow, Mercurial Knight could not help but draw a quiet breath. It was just as the stories described—unyielding, austere, a fortress carved from winter itself.
“I hope you are warm enough in this weather, Mercurial Knight,” White Lily said, her voice soft but carrying easily in the frozen air. She walked with calm grace, her green robes trailing like drifting snow, untouched by the cold that gnawed at everything else.
Mercurial Knight inclined his head slightly, his breath fogging before him. “I’ll manage, your majesty. The cold is harsh, but nothing compared to what the Dark Cacao Kingdom endures each day. I would be a poor guest if I let it overcome me so quickly.”
His words were steady, but he could not deny the chill that clung to his silver armor, seeping in like an uninvited shadow. Still, compared to the weight of the moment, the cold was a trivial matter.
They were stopped at the gates by the kingdom’s soldiers, their dark armor gleaming with frost, spears crossed to bar the way. The demand for names, reasons, and proof of purpose was spoken in firm, disciplined tones, each word precise as steel.
It reminded Mercurial Knight of the Silver Knights back in the Faerie Kingdom—unyielding in their duty, sworn to protect without hesitation. The sight stirred a strange familiarity within him, though the air here was heavier, harsher, shaped by winters far more merciless than any faerie wood had ever known.
He stood silently as White Lily stepped forward, her presence calm yet commanding, every word she spoke carrying the weight of truth and authority.
The soldiers regarded her carefully, their eyes narrowing from beneath their helms. For a moment, the only sound was the whistle of the wind against the towering gates. Then, slowly, one of them lowered his spear, bowing his head ever so slightly. Recognition flickered across their stern faces; the name of a Guardian was not one to be taken lightly.
Mercurial Knight remained still, observing the exchange with a quiet vigilance. He could feel the tension in the air—how suspicion clung to the soldiers like frost. It was not hostility, but caution, sharpened by years of defending their borders from countless threats.
At last, the gates began to groan open, revealing the kingdom beyond. A wave of icy air swept out to greet them, carrying with it the scent of snow, steel, and something faintly bitter.
They walked past the people of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, who paused in their daily tasks to cast curious glances at the strangers. The townsfolk were bundled in thick furs and wool, their faces weathered by cold and hardship, yet their eyes were gentle, welcoming. Children peeked from behind their mothers’ skirts, whispering in hushed tones, while merchants and soldiers alike kept their gazes steady, weighing the presence of outsiders in their austere land.
The arrival to the castle was slow, but not unpleasant. Each step upward along the winding path offered glimpses of the fortress’s towering walls, jagged and imposing against the pale sky. Snow clung stubbornly to the stone, and banners of deep, muted colors swayed gently in the crisp wind.
Despite the kingdom’s austere exterior, there was a quiet beauty in its severity—a sense of strength and endurance that seemed to seep from the very stones. Mercurial Knight and White Lily moved carefully, their breaths forming clouds in the cold air, while the people they passed gave them polite, measured nods, acknowledging their presence without breaking the rhythm of their daily lives.
“Mercurial Knight, you seem to be deep in thought,” White Lily said, her voice gentle, carrying no pressure—only genuine curiosity and warmth.
He blinked, momentarily pulled from his reflections, and met her serene gaze. “Just… thinking,” he replied carefully, choosing his words. “About what awaits us inside the castle… and what this kingdom might truly be like.”
He could hear the chuckle coming from the Guardian, as well as a sigh.
“It is okay to be cautious of a place you have never seen nor heard before, I completely understand. But sometimes, careful observation and an open mind are the best guides.” White Lily said, turning to the commander with a reassuring smile.
For a fleeting moment, Mercurial Knight’s mind blurred, and he saw not White Lily, but Elder Faerie standing before him instead—calm, wise, and infinitely patient. The resemblance was subtle, yet undeniable; in those brief seconds, the steady confidence he drew from White Lily felt like a memory of guidance he had always known, a comforting shadow from his past.
He respected both of them, and vowed to protect them with his entire being. He may fail to protect his majesty, but he would not make the same mistake with her majesty.
After a while, they finally arrived at the gates of the castle. Greeting them was a woman dressed in the crisp uniform of the castle staff, her posture straight and formal. A faint scent of caramel lingered in the air around her, soft and subtle, like a gentle whisper of sweetness against the chill.
“Greeting, Queen Faerie and her knight, my name is Caramel Arrow, the first watcher of the Dark Cacao Kingdom.” the woman said, her voice clear and steady. She regarded them with a welcoming gaze, though it carried the quiet authority of someone who had long ensured the safety and order of the kingdom.
Her presence was both commanding and gentle, a careful balance that immediately put Mercurial Knight on alert while also offering reassurance. The faint scent of caramel that lingered around her seemed almost symbolic—sweetness wrapped in strength, a subtle reminder that even in a harsh and austere land, warmth could still exist.
White Lily inclined her head politely, returning the First Watcher’s gaze with calm respect. “It is an honor to meet you, Caramel Arrow. We are grateful for your guidance.”
Caramel Arrow’s lips curved into a slight smile. “Then allow me to escort you inside. The Dark Cacao Kingdom welcomes you, and His Majesty, the king, awaits your presence.”
Mercurial Knight nodded solemnly, straightening his posture, while White Lily’s expression remained calm yet attentive. Together, they followed the First Watcher through the towering gates, the massive doors closing behind them with a low, resonant thud.
Inside, the castle exuded a quiet grandeur—stone corridors lined with banners, torches flickering against the walls, and an air of both discipline and reverence. Every step echoed in the hall, a reminder that this was a kingdom steeped in tradition, strength, and vigilance.
“Oh my Witches, Lily, is that you?” a voice rang out, carrying both surprise and delight. The three turned toward it, and standing a short distance away was a tall, muscular woman, her pink hair styled into two playful buns that bounced with her movements.
The woman’s face lit up with a bright, genuine smile as she strode quickly toward them, closing the distance in a few eager steps. Without a second thought, she wrapped White Lily in a warm, vigorous embrace, lifting her slightly off the ground.
White Lily laughed softly, a sound of genuine amusement and familiarity, and allowed herself to be held. Mercurial Knight watched silently for a moment, noting the ease and affection in the reunion, the kind of bond forged over trust, experience, and shared adventures.
The woman finally pulled back slightly, her hands resting lightly on Lily’s shoulders. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said, her eyes sparkling with joy.
“Hollyberry, it has been such a long time since I last saw you.” White Lily replied warmly, her smile tinged with nostalgia.
Mercurial Knight watched quietly, taking in the reunion. So this was Hollyberry—the famed warrior whose name he had heard countless times in the stories of the five heroes. Two of the heroes he already knew, but Hollyberry and the other two had always seemed larger-than-life, almost mythical. And now, seeing her here, vibrant and strong, he realized the stories had barely captured the true spirit of those legends.
Hollyberry’s gaze swept over the newcomers briefly, her expression sharp yet welcoming, as if measuring their worthiness with a single glance, before her attention returned fully to White Lily.
He did not pay much attention to their conversation—perhaps they needed some privacy for their reunion. Instead, Mercurial Knight let his gaze wander around the grand hall. The towering stone pillars were carved with intricate patterns of ice and flame, telling stories of old battles and triumphs. The air carried a faint chill, though it was softened by the flickering warmth of torches lining the walls.
Another sound snapped him from his thoughts—a sharp, graceful flutter of wings, followed by the faint chime of gold brushing against gold. A flick of golden feathers filled the air as a new voice called out, bright and confident.
“Hollyberry, White Lily?”
Mercurial Knight turned his head toward the source. Striding down the corridor was a woman adorned in intricate golden armor, each plate polished to a mirror’s sheen. Her hair gleamed like molten sunlight, cascading behind her with every step, and her eyes shone with a brilliance that could rival the sun itself.
“Golden Cheese,” Hollyberry greeted, laughing as she stepped forward. “Still as radiant as ever, I see.”
Golden Cheese chuckled, her tone playful but warm. “And you still make every room shake with your presence, Hollyberry. It’s been far too long.”
As the two clasped forearms in a warrior’s greeting, Mercurial Knight found himself quietly observing, feeling the weight of history ripple between them—three of the ancient heroes, reunited under one roof, their bond undimmed by time or distance.
“G-Golden Cheese, it’s truly good to see you again,” White Lily said, her gaze carrying a mixture of sadness and hope.
“White Lily… it has indeed been a long time,” Golden Cheese replied quietly, her voice steady but tinged with emotion.
“Golden Cheese, I wanted to—”
“Please… not now,” she interrupted gently. “I still need some time.”
“I understand, Golden Cheese. Forgiveness isn’t something that can be asked for and given in a single breath,” White Lily said softly, her voice carrying both regret and patience.
Golden Cheese’s gaze lingered on her for a moment—tired, wistful, but not unkind. “You always did know how to speak like a scholar,” she murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips before fading just as quickly.
Mercurial Knight watched in silence. The air between the two was thick with memories—of alliances forged, ideals shattered, and choices that still echoed through ages. He could feel it in the way their words hesitated, how their eyes met and broke apart again.
“Perhaps,” Golden Cheese said at last, turning away, “when the wounds stop aching, we’ll finish this conversation.”
White Lily inclined her head. “Then I’ll wait. However long it takes.”
“My friend, it is wonderful to see you all again.”
Another voice came, warm and familiar—one that carried both gentleness and authority. Mercurial Knight turned, his eyes widening slightly as recognition struck him.
It was none other than Pure Vanilla.
The healer’s presence seemed to soften the air itself; the golden light radiating faintly from his staff reflected the same calm that had once soothed hearts. His kind smile had not changed, though a deeper weariness now lingered behind his eyes.
“Pure Vanilla,” White Lily greeted, her tone low but sincere, though a faint tremor lingered beneath it. “You haven’t changed much.”
Pure Vanilla turned to her, the gentle light surrounding him seeming to grow softer. His expression wavered for just a moment — a flicker of something between longing and regret passing through his eyes.
“Nor have you, Lily,” he replied quietly. “I am glad you have returned safely from your encounter with your counterpart.”
The words carried more weight than they seemed to at first — a careful choice, one that brushed the edges of something neither of them wanted to reopen.
Of course, Mercurial Knight thought, his gaze flicking between them. The Beasts.
He still remembered the moment vividly — the sight of the Beast of Silence standing beside the guardian, never felt so wrong to look at. He was still cautious of the beast, despite hearing the reassurance from White Lily.
“Of course, that goes the same to you, Pure Vanilla.” White Lily replied
White Lily straightened slightly, her expression shifting — as though she had just remembered something important, or perhaps steeled herself for what came next. “This is what I wanted to discuss,” she said, her voice calm but carrying an undertone of urgency. “Along with everyone here.”
Her voice was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps — heavy, deliberate, echoing through the grand hall like the roll of distant thunder.
Every head turned toward the entrance.
The air grew taut, as if even the walls held their breath.
“Pure Vanilla. Hollyberry. Golden Cheese. White Lily.” His tone was low, resonant, his breath visible in the chill that seemed to follow him. “It seems fate has decided our paths should cross once more.”
Hollyberry’s grin widened, undaunted by his frosty presence. “Oh, don’t sound so grim, old friend! You make it seem like a funeral instead of a reunion.”
“Some reunions,” Golden Cheese mused, folding her arms, “carry the weight of both.”
Pure Vanilla gave a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed the same wary understanding. “Still, it brings me comfort to see you standing before us again, Dark Cacao. The world feels… more whole when its guardians are gathered.”
For a heartbeat, no one spoke. The tension rippled beneath the surface, unspoken histories straining against the fragile peace of the moment.
Finally, Dark Cacao inclined his head slightly — not warmth, but acknowledgment. “Then let us speak of why we are here,” he said, his voice like the distant cracking of ice. “Reunions mean little if they are not followed by purpose.”
White Lily nodded once, her expression grave. “Indeed. And that purpose concerns not just us… but the balance of the world itself.”
Dark Cacao’s gaze flickered, just for an instant, toward White Lily — something unreadable passing between them. He gave a curt nod. “Then let us not waste it. We have much to discuss, and little patience to spare.”
“I could see that you have also brought your trusted companion with you, White Lily,” Dark Cacao said, his voice calm but edged with something unreadable. His gaze shifted slightly, falling on Mercurial Knight, whose posture straightened under the weight of that scrutiny.
Mercurial Knight inclined his head in silent respect. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” he said evenly, though his tone carried the careful neutrality of someone measuring every word, with a hint of respect for the king.
White Lily stepped subtly closer, as if to steady the atmosphere. “Mercurial Knight has been of great help to me,” she said, her voice light yet deliberate.
Dark Cacao hummed lowly, almost to himself. “A companion worthy of your trust, then. That alone speaks volumes.” His eyes lingered on the knight for a moment longer — appraising, perhaps, or merely curious — before turning away.
It seemed like he had forgotten about a tiny thing.
His son was never one to stay in bed.
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Dark Choco wandered around the castle, head still spinning from the fever that clung stubbornly to him. His body ached faintly with every step, but staying still had only made the dizziness worse. He needed to move — or at least, that’s what he told himself.
The halls were quiet at this hour, lit only by the faint glow of the torches lining the walls. His soft footsteps echoed against the cold stone floor as he walked, one hand brushing the wall for balance. The chill of the air bit into his skin; his thin pajamas did little to keep out the cold, so different from the heavy cloak his father gave him.
Footsteps could be heard along the hall as the prince forced himself forward, moving without purpose, guided only by the faint hum of thought in his fevered mind. He stopped by a tall, frost-edged window, one hand braced against the cold glass as he looked out into the courtyard below.
Snow fell delicately — thin flakes drifting through the air like quiet whispers. The faint yells of soldiers in training broke the stillness, rhythmic and disciplined. Blades clashed, armor clanked, and voices barked commands into the frozen air. Even in the biting cold, the Dark Cacao soldiers trained with unwavering resolve, their movements sharp and practiced.
Some knights stood watch at the edges of the field, their cloaks fluttering slightly with every gust of wind. Torches burned low near the walls, casting pale golden light against the snow, unable to soften the harshness of the scene.
Dark Choco’s gaze lingered on them for a long while — the precision, the strength, the unity he had once admired. Yet now, the sight only made something twist faintly inside his chest.
He exhaled, breath fogging the glass. “…Always so devoted,” he murmured to no one in particular, his voice barely a whisper.
Dark Choco then coughed—a harsh, shaking sound that tore through the quiet corridor. It echoed faintly off the stone walls, each breath catching painfully in his chest. He pressed a hand against his mouth, trying to stifle the noise, but it only made the fit worse. His body trembled with the effort, thin shoulders shaking beneath the light fabric of his pajamas.
It seemed like the fever had worsened. His vision blurred at the edges, and for a moment, he had to steady himself against the window frame to keep from collapsing. The cold glass seared against his overheated skin, grounding him just enough to stay upright.
“…Tch,” he muttered weakly, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. The world felt distant—muffled, like sound through heavy snow.
He really needs to go back to bed.
Before he could manage to turn back, a faint sound reached his ears — muffled voices, coming from the direction of his father’s office.
He froze, blinking as if to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. The King’s office was rarely this lively. There were several voices, overlapping at times — firm, commanding, familiar in a way that made the young prince’s heart skip.
Dark Choco frowned faintly. He didn’t remember his father mentioning any guests. And yet, the distinct cadence of conversation — one that carried authority — drifted through the otherwise silent halls.
Curiosity tugged at him, stronger than reason.
Despite the dizziness that still fogged his head, he took a hesitant step toward the direction of the sound, the hem of his pajama pants brushing the cold floor.
He stood in front of the door, anxiety creeping up to him. He knew that he should go back to bed, but part of him wanted to confirm his belief.
Better worth a shot.
He carefully reached for the door, fingers trembling slightly — whether from fever or nerves, he couldn’t tell. The cold metal of the handle bit against his skin as he hesitated, breath shallow.
Just a peek, he told himself. Just enough to know.
The prince slowly pushed the door open, only a sliver, the faintest creak echoing down the quiet corridor. Warm light spilled through the narrow gap, illuminating his face in soft lavender. From inside came the low murmur of voices — measured, deliberate, the kind used in conversations that held weight.
“…we must act soon,” a voice said — smooth and calm, yet heavy with something ancient.
Another responded, firmer, resonant with command. “Act, yes — but not without unity. We’ve seen what division brings.”
Dark Choco’s pulse quickened. He recognized that tone anywhere.
Pure Vanilla.
And then — another, booming, edged with pride and laughter.
Hollyberry.
He froze. His father truly was meeting with the Ancient Heroes.
He could also see Golden Cheese flickered her wings, reminding him of her.
Oh Rich Cheese, he wished she could meet her mother now.
His gaze shifted to White Lily. A quiet conflict stirred within him — he knew what she had done, who she had once been. The stories were not easy to forget, nor were the scars they left behind. It would be best to stay neutral.
A figure also caught his eye, someone that he had met long ago.
Mercurial Knight
Dark Choco felt a jolt run through him — sharp, electric, like the air itself had shifted. Memories surged unbidden, pulling him back to his time in the Faerie Kingdom, when he had wandered too deep into Beast-Yeast.
He remembered him.
Mercurial Knight had always been wary of him then — and, in truth, it had been fair. The prince had been unstable, unpredictable, half-consumed by his own darkness. Still, the memory of that one encounter stood out vividly: being pinned against a wall, steel pressing close, the knight’s eyes cold and unreadable.
It hadn’t been meant as cruelty, but the moment had carved itself into Dark Choco’s mind all the same — a quiet, lingering mark of fear he couldn’t quite shake.
Oh witches, it was horrifying
However, as time passed and he spent more days beside the commander, the sharp edge of that fear slowly dulled. Mercurial Knight’s steady presence — his discipline, his rare but genuine moments of care — helped ease the tension between them. What had once been caution gradually turned into understanding, and from that understanding, something stronger began to take root.
Huh, his heart beats faster than usual?
Nevermind, it seemed like the ancients were discussing some matters. Maybe about their own encounters with the beasts?
Thinking of the beasts made Dark Choco shiver, he would never forget how three of them tortured him, yet how their pasts affected his own judgements.
Apathy nearly consumed him
Destruction nearly destroyed him
Deceit nearly drown him in misery
He did not encounter Sloth, but managed to caught some pieces of Silence
All of them affected him in some ways.
He was relieved that all of the ancient heroes were in good condition, especially his father. They all seemed too invested in their discussion that none of them noticed the prince.
Good for him, he did not wish to be seen right now.
Before he could leave quietly, he could feel a stare on his back.
A familiar stare.
He turned slowly, breath catching in his throat.
Mercurial Knight was looking straight at him.
For a moment, neither of them moved — the noise of the meeting seemed to dull into the background, leaving only the heavy silence between the two. The knight’s expression was unreadable beneath the faint glow of the hall’s torchlight, but his eyes... they softened ever so slightly, that it was irrecognisable for everyone, but enough for Dark Choco to recognize him.
Oh no.
Oh no
Their gazes locked for what felt like an eternity before Mercurial Knight tilted his head, just a fraction — subtle, questioning, as if asking why Dark Choco was there.
Dark Choco froze, his mind scrambling for an excuse. He had not planned to be caught, especially not by him.
He had not planned to meet him again in the first place.
He was doomed for sure
All Dark Choco could do was lift a trembling finger to his lips, silently pleading for Mercurial Knight not to say a word. His wide eyes met the knight’s — desperate, almost childlike — as if that single gesture might undo the attention he’d just drawn to himself.
Rich Cheese would definitely be laughing right now.
Mercurial Knight froze mid-step, his expression flickering between surprise and reluctant amusement. Seeing the flustered state of the prince was not on his list, yet he did not seem to mind. The faintest curve tugged at his mouth, though he obeyed without question, halting where he stood.
Dark Choco sighed — a quiet, defeated sound — before turning on his heel and hurrying away from the doorway. His bare feet barely made a sound against the cold stone floor, but his heart thundered loud enough to drown out everything else.
Oh dear Witches, his head was spinning so badly it felt like the world itself tilted beneath his feet. He could practically hear the pounding in his skull, each throb echoing behind his eyes. His face burned — whether from the fever or from sheer embarrassment, he couldn’t tell anymore.
He pressed a hand against his cheek, feeling how warm it was, and groaned softly under his breath. “Perfect,” he muttered weakly to himself. “Absolutely perfect timing…”
He went to a corner, decided to sit there for a rest. He was really tired
He really should have stayed in bed.
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“Hey, did you see something, Cacao?” Golden Cheese asked, looking at Dark Cacao.
Dark Cacao’s gaze lingered on the now-silent doorway for a moment longer before he turned toward Hollyberry. “...No,” he said finally, his voice low, almost dismissive. “Just a flicker of movement. Perhaps the wind.”
Hollyberry raised a brow, unconvinced but unwilling to press further. “Hm. Well, if the wind around here starts sneaking through doors, I’d say your castle needs a bit more insulation,” she quipped with a grin.
The faintest huff escaped Dark Cacao’s nose — not quite amusement, but close enough that the others noticed.
Only White Lily seemed to notice the subtle shift in Mercurial Knight’s demeanor. His posture, usually so composed, had stiffened ever so slightly; his gaze lingered a fraction too long on the doorway before returning to the discussion. She didn’t comment, but her eyes softened in quiet understanding — she had seen that look before, the kind that came from recognition one wasn’t supposed to have.
Hum, now that she remembered
“Mercurial Knight,” White Lily said softly, her eyes narrowing just a little in thought. “Would you like to take a stroll around the castle?”
Mercurial Knight blinked, momentarily taken aback by her request. “Are you certain, Your Majesty? You wish to take a walk?”
White Lily smiled faintly and shook her head. “No, no — I’m fine. I meant you. You should take a bit of air. You’ve been tense since we arrived.” Her tone softened, though there was a quiet insistence behind her words.
“Besides, one of the reasons I brought you here was to help you broaden your mind — to see beyond battlefields and duty, if only for a little while.”
Mercurial Knight hesitated, his eyes studying her as though trying to find the real reason behind her suggestion. But in the end, he simply nodded. “...As you command, your majesty.”
“Very well.” White Lily replied with a small smile on her face.
“Apologies, dear Ancients,” Mercurial Knight said, inclining his head respectfully. “I would like to excuse myself from this conversation. It would be impolite to remain distracted while in such esteemed company.”
Golden Cheese waved a hand with a grin. “Oh, no offense taken, knight. Go stretch your wings — the air here is rather heavy with politics anyway.”
“Indeed,” Pure Vanilla added gently, “the corridors of this castle are peaceful this time of day. I am sure a short walk will do you well.”
Mercurial Knight offered a final bow. “My gratitude. I shall return shortly.”
And with that, he turned toward the door, the faint glimmer of purpose — or perhaps concern — flickering behind his calm demeanor.
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“Oh, children these days are so polite yet so bold, eh?” Hollyberry said with a hearty laugh, leaning back in her chair.
Dark cacao sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s older than us, Hollyberry”
Hollyberry blinked, then grinned wider. “All the more impressive, then!”
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Dark Choco sat slumped in the corner, his back pressed weakly against the cold stone wall. His head was spinning, the fever making everything blur at the edges. He let out a shaky sigh, half in frustration, half in exhaustion.
What was he even thinking? Peeking into a political meeting—his father’s meeting, no less—while barely able to stand was probably the most foolish thing he’d done in a while.
Sitting here seemed not to be a smart idea either.
He really needed to go back to bed. ( How many times did he say that again?)
He stood up, steadying his breath before walking away.
The hall was very quiet — too quiet, in fact. His footsteps echoed faintly against the stone floor, the sound swallowed quickly by the vast emptiness around him. The torches lining the walls flickered weakly, their flames struggling against a faint draft that snuck through the cracks of the old fortress.
Each step felt heavier than the last. His vision wavered, the shadows along the corridor twisting and stretching in ways that made his head throb harder. He pressed a hand to his temple, muttering under his breath, “Just a few more steps…”
But even his voice came out hoarse, barely audible against the hum of silence.
Oh, his head is hurt, so bad
Before he could realise, he tripped.
Dark Choco expected his face to be on the floor, a cold wooden one.
Not a steel surface.
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The hall of the fortress was long — impressively so, stretching far beyond what Mercurial Knight had first expected. He drifted silently through the air, his cape trailing like a wisp of starlight behind him.
For all its imposing stone and age, the castle was… warm. The flicker of torches painted soft gold along the carved walls, and tapestries of long-past battles and royal crests hung proudly, each thread carefully tended to.
He found himself admiring the dedication behind it all — the care, the craftsmanship, the quiet sense of pride woven into every detail.
The Faerie Kingdom was the same, all hard work was dedicated to the flourishing of the Kingdom, and he vowed to protect it with his entire being. It was his purpose, ever since he sacrificed his flavours.
A faint scent of dark chocolate pulled him sharply from his thoughts. The fortress always carried the faint aroma of cacao — it was, after all, the Dark Cacao Kingdom — but this one was different.
Too familiar, in fact
He flew to the root of the scent, finding himself in quite shock
Dark Choco?
For a moment, he simply stared, disbelief flickering across his usually composed face. He had thought the young prince was elsewhere.
Dark Choco did not seem to notice him at all. The prince moved forward unsteadily, each step heavier than the last, his balance faltering.
Then — a soft stumble, a quiet gasp — and before he could hit the ground, instinct took over.
Mercurial Knight moved in a blur, wings cutting through the still air. Years of training and reflex guided his motion as he caught the prince just in time, his arm wrapping securely around Dark Choco’s waist to keep him upright.
For a heartbeat, the world went still — only the faint sound of Dark Choco’s labored breathing filled the hall.
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Dark Choco shivered slightly at the sudden touch of cold metal against his skin. The faint scent of mint lingered in the air — sharp, clean, unmistakable. It filled his senses, grounding him just enough to realize whose arms he’d fallen into.
His vision swam for a moment before settling on the familiar gleam of silver armor and those steady, dark eyes staring down at him.
Oh
“M–Mercurial K–Knight?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper — uncertain whether to feel relieved, embarrassed, or both.
He could feel Mercurial Knight’s gaze sweep over him — not with judgment, but quiet assessment. The knight’s eyes lingered briefly on the thin pajamas that clung loosely to his frame, far too light for the bitter chill of the fortress. The faint crease in his brow deepened.
“You are sick, aren’t you?” He asked, arm still wrapped around the prince’s waist.
Dark Choco hesitated, his breath catching in his throat. “…It’s nothing,” he murmured, the words coming out softer than he intended. “Just a fever.”
Mercurial Knight’s grip steadied slightly, as though to keep him upright. “A fever bad enough to make you stumble through the halls?” he said quietly, tone calm but carrying that unmistakable note of disapproval only someone used to command could manage.
Oh Dark Choco did not want to be criticised at this rate. But he understood that Mercurial Knight wasn’t speaking out of scorn. That tone — measured, even, but edged with concern — was one Dark Choco remembered well.
He lowered his eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line. “…I just needed some air,” he said finally, voice barely audible. “I couldn’t stay still.”
Mercurial Knight studied him in silence for a moment, then sighed quietly. “And yet, here you are, barely able to stand.”
Dark Choco winced faintly at the truth of it. The knight’s hand, still steady at his waist, radiated a cool, grounding warmth — something that made the prince’s pulse stutter for reasons he didn’t want to name.
“....Why are you here?” Dark Choco asked instead, trying to-
“Change the subject?”Mercurial Knight finished for him, a faint hint of amusement threading through his low voice.
Dark Choco blinked, caught off guard. “…Maybe,” he admitted, his tone quiet, almost sheepish.
The knight let out a breath that was half a sigh, half a chuckle?
“White Lily sent me out to clear my head. Seems like I found something more concerning instead.” His gaze softened, though the faint crease between his brows remained.
Dark Choco felt heat rising up to his face, was it the fever he had or something else.
He chose not to find out anyway.
“I-I s-see.” Dark Choco managed to speak up, the cold chill him to the bone
“You need to rest,” Mercurial Knight said firmly, though his tone had gentled. His wings shifted slightly behind him, the faint shimmer of magic rippling through the air. “You’re burning up.”
Dark Choco’s lips parted as if to argue, but no words came. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on him all at once — the spinning world, the chill biting into his skin, the way Mercurial Knight’s hand on his arm felt far too steady compared to his own trembling.
“I-I c-can w-walk,” he muttered weakly, taking half a step before his knees faltered again.
Mercurial Knight caught him effortlessly, sighing through his nose. “Clearly,” he said dryly, though there was an undercurrent of concern he didn’t bother to hide this time. “You really are stubborn”
Dark Choco blinked up at him, half-dazed. “…Was that all you wanted to say when seeing me again?
Mercurial Knight did not reply, instead picking Dark Choco up in a bridal style.
Wait what
Dark Choco’s mind short-circuited for a moment. One second he was standing—or at least trying to—and the next, the world tilted as a pair of strong, cold arms swept him clean off the ground.
“W–Wait—what are you—?!” he blurted out, his voice pitching higher than he intended. His hands instinctively clutched at the knight’s chestplate, the chill of the metal seeping through his thin sleeves.
Mercurial Knight didn’t even glance down. “Preventing you from collapsing again,” he said simply, as if this were the most logical solution in the world. His tone was calm, measured, maddeningly composed.
“I can walk,” Dark Choco protested, though the half-slurred words didn’t help his case.
“I am aware,” Mercurial Knight replied evenly, already moving down the hall with long, steady strides. “You’re simply not doing it well.”
Dark Choco opened his mouth to argue again—then thought better of it. His face burned hotter, though whether from fever or mortification, he wasn’t sure.
“You could change it to something else?” Dark Choco tried to negotiate, but failed miserably as Mercurial Knight kept flying forward, clearly not taking any of his words.
Oh well, at least he would not get too cold.
Dark Choco found himself leaning slightly against Mercurial Knight, his gaze drifting down the long corridor ahead. “…How’s Silverbell?” he asked after a pause, the memory of the faerie flickering faintly in his fever-hazed mind.
Mercurial Knight’s wings gave a small, steady beat as he replied, “He’s been well. Still as talkative as ever.” A hint of amusement colored his voice before softening. “He wanted to thank you — for saving his life back then.”
Dark Choco blinked, surprised by the answer. “...He still remembers that?” he asked quietly, his voice rough from fatigue.
Mercurial Knight gave a small hum of affirmation. “He does. Faeries don’t easily forget kindness — especially when it comes from someone outside.” His tone softened slightly, a rare warmth threading through the even cadence of his words. “He said you were reckless, though.”
A faint, tired chuckle escaped Dark Choco. “He’s not wrong.”
Dark Choco had always been said to be reckless, almost everyone he came in contact with said that.
He would always run to save others, with a plan in hand of course.
Yet the plan never included his safety.
They kept being like that, with Mercurial Knight flying to Dark Choco’s room, and the prince would ask Mercurial Knight about many things.
Mercurial Knight would listen, sometimes would answer.
Dark Choco did not realise he was clinging to Mercurial Knight, leaning into him more than ever. Despite the cold amour he was wearing, Dark Choco could feel warmth from him.
Mercurial Knight did notice, though he chose not to say anything more about it. The prince reminded him of a cakehound(small one, like those of which White Lily showed him the other day)
Mercurial Knight could feel his heart racing a bit faster when he was close to Dark Choco.
Their conversation was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps — firm, rhythmic, unmistakably those of the castle guards on patrol. Dark Choco’s breath hitched. If they found him out of bed like this… his father would surely hear of it.
Without thinking, he clung tighter to Mercurial Knight, his fingers curling into the knight’s armor. “Hide,” he whispered, his voice trembling just slightly.
Mercurial Knight did not hesitate. His wings spread soundlessly as he scanned the corridor, sharp eyes catching a narrow alcove behind a heavy lavender curtain. With one smooth motion, he pulled Dark Choco close and slipped into the shadows.
The curtain fell shut behind them, cloaking the two in dim silence. Dark Choco could feel the cold metal of Mercurial Knight’s chest plate against his cheek, steady and unmoving. The knight’s arm wrapped protectively around his back, holding him still as the sound of footsteps drew nearer.
Dark Choco quickly clamped his hands over his mouth, stifling the sound of his own ragged breaths. His heart thudded wildly in his chest, each beat loud enough that he feared the guards outside might hear it.
He then felt Mercurial Knight pull him closer, hands still on his back. The cold metal of his armour felt tingling on Dark Choco’s skin, yet he could feel the warmth from the knight’s hands.
“Hey, did you see something?” The voice of a guard rang up
Dark Choco’s body froze, his fingers instinctively tightening over his mouth again. The muffled sound of the guard’s voice sliced through the quiet, sharp enough to make his heart skip a beat.
Mercurial Knight’s arm shifted slightly, pressing him closer into the shadowed alcove they were hiding in. His dark eyes scanned the corridor with calm precision, every movement measured, as if daring the guard to come closer.
“I… I think it was nothing,” another guard replied, voice uncertain.
“Was it?”
“Cmon, man, we need to go now!!! It is our turn to guard the entrance this time.” The other guard yelled, as if about to smack their co-worker right there.
“Jeez, alright, I’m coming.”
Dark Choco exhaled shakily, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing as the guards’ voices faded down the corridor. He pressed closer into Mercurial Knight, who remained perfectly still, his presence a calming weight against the prince’s racing heartbeat.
“T-That was c-close,” Dark Choco whispered, exhaling shakily. His body still trembled slightly from the adrenaline, and he pressed a little closer into Mercurial Knight, seeking the quiet reassurance of his presence.
“It is.” Mercurial Knight replied, holding Dark Choco a little bit tighter. Dark Choco was light, despite the fact he was a bit taller than Mercurial Knight.
Did he eat enough?
Mercurial Knight sighed, as he did not want to pry any further into the prince’s personal issues.
The scent of chocolate filled the air. Mercurial Knight, accustomed to the sharp, flowery aromas of the faerie realm, had never encountered anything quite so sweet—yet there was a warmth in it that felt unexpectedly comforting.
He could also feel another scent coming from the prince.
A faint scent of lavender.
Drawn by the scent and the quiet pulse of the prince’s presence, Mercurial Knight felt an irresistible pull, his body leaning closer, as if the air itself was guiding him into the warmth of Dark Choco.
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Dark Choco could feel Mercurial Knight’s presence pressing softly against his neck, the subtle weight of his body grounding him. Hands still resting lightly behind his back, Mercurial Knight drew him a little closer, the gentle pull sending a warmth curling through Dark Choco’s chest.
Warm body against cool steel, arms wrapped around the knight’s shoulders to steady himself.
Dark Choco’s breath hitched at the closeness, his heartbeat quickening despite his effort to remain calm. He could feel the steady warmth of Mercurial Knight’s body, the faint brush of his armor against his pajamas, and the quiet rhythm of his breathing. Every small movement seemed deliberate, careful, as if the knight was attuned to even the slightest shift in his comfort.
And then, Dark Choco felt lips on his neck, nibbling his skin.
Dark Choco’s breath hitched softly, a quiet, involuntary sound that seemed to float in the stillness around them. He leaned subtly into the touch, not out of boldness but from the simple comfort of being held so carefully. Mercurial Knight’s hands remained steady behind his back.
Hot breath brushing against his neck, the chill of Mercurial Knight’s armor pressing lightly through his thin pajamas. Each gentle press of lips sent a delicate warmth spreading across his skin, soft and unhurried, like a whisper meant only for him.
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the sensation settle, heart fluttering in quiet awe at the careful, tender attention lavished on him.
He could ask Mercurial Knight to stop, yet choose not to. Maybe the fever really did get over him.
Mercurial Knight felt his face burning up, the scent of lavender and chocolate filled his head. The sweetness and bitterness mingled in the air, dizzying yet comforting, wrapping around him like a gentle pull he didn’t want to resist. Mercurial Knight’s hands moved to Dark Choco’s waist, grounding both of them in the shared warmth despite the storm of sensation.
He could feel every subtle tremor beneath his touch, every soft sigh escaping Dark Choco’s lips, and a quiet, protective thought anchored him: he would go no further than the prince wished, yet he wanted nothing more than to linger here, in this fragile, intimate pause.
A sweet flower always attracts butterflies, no matter what.
Mercurial Knight looked up in order to check on Dark Choco, then ended up finding himself in pure bliss.
The prince’s face was flushed, the heat of his fever painting his cheeks a deep crimson. His breaths came shallow and uneven, rising and falling like soft waves. His eye fluttered closed, lashes brushing lightly against his cheeks, giving him an almost fragile, ethereal appearance in Mercurial Knight’s steady hold.
The sight stirred something deep within him—a quiet, intoxicating bliss. Despite the fever and the frailty before him, Dark Choco seemed impossibly delicate, and Mercurial Knight found himself mesmerized, holding him closer, savoring the warmth and the subtle scent that clung to him.
And butterflies always cherish their flowers.
Mercurial Knight had never in his life understood how much the sea adores the moon until now. Watching the prince cling to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, his neck marked by Mercurial Knight’s gentle kisses, he felt an overwhelming, tidal pull of protectiveness and longing.
Maybe even a hint of possessiveness
Mercurial Knight tightened his arms around Dark Choco, drawing him closer until their bodies were flush. His lips trailed down to the soft curve of Dark Choco’s neck, pressing a gentle kiss before grazing it with a careful bite. The action was soft yet deliberate, a tender mixture of affection and quiet desire that sent shivers rippling through the prince.
Like a butterfly tasting its flower.
Dark Choco almost cried out, but bit down on his lips to stifle the sound, his arms instinctively wrapping around Mercurial Knight’s shoulders. He felt himself held securely in the knight’s strong embrace, like a small, fragile lamb.
Cold skin met hot one, skin on skin, hot breath entangled. The scent of mint and chocolate with a hint of lavender filled the air, only for them to notice and feel.
“Dark Choco, are you alright?” He asked softly, his hands massaging the prince’s waist in slow, soothing circles. As he worked, Mercurial Knight pressed small, gentle kisses along the spot where he had left marks, each one careful and tender, meant to comfort rather than tease.
Soft moans escaped Dark Choco’s lips, each one a delicate, unguarded sound that felt like honey dripping into Mercurial Knight’s ears.
Dark Choco’s ears burned, unsure whether it was the fever or something far more personal. He didn’t think about it anymore—there was only the warmth, the steady presence above him, and the instinct to cling closer, seeking comfort and safety in Mercurial Knight’s steady embrace.
Dark Choco’s voice trembled slightly. “Y-ye… I-I’m fine.”
Mercurial Knight’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry, I went too far back then”
Oh Witches, Dark Choco could feel his face burning up.
“N-no, it’s… it’s alright,” he stammered, though a faint sting on his neck reminded him of the kiss. Somehow, he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would.
“W-well… a little warning beforehand would help,” he admitted softly, voice barely above a whisper.
Mercurial Knight’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, the kind that carried both amusement and tenderness. “Noted,” he murmured, his breath warm against Dark Choco’s ear. He lingered for a moment, letting the prince adjust, before brushing his lips gently over the sensitive skin again—this time softer, teasing.
Dark Choco shivered at the touch, gripping the knight’s shoulders lightly, unsure if it was the fever or the closeness that made his heart race. Yet, he did not pull away. Somehow, being held so carefully, being treated with such deliberate gentleness, made him feel safe in a way he had not expected.
The soft, intimate moment was abruptly interrupted by a harsh cough from Dark Choco. He pressed a hand to his mouth, eyes watering slightly from the effort, the fever making each breath feel heavier than the last.
Mercurial Knight immediately adjusted his hold, supporting the prince more firmly. Dark Choco really needed to go to bed now.
“Let’s get you to bed—you’re exhausted,” Mercurial Knight murmured softly, lifting him carefully into his arms. Each movement was gentle, deliberate, as if handling something precious and fragile. Dark Choco’s head rested lightly against the knight’s shoulder, eyelids heavy, the warmth of the moment easing the ache from his fevered body.
He still needed to stay awake though, Mercurial Knight did not know where his room was
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The meeting was intense, White Lily thought. Especially after she told her friends about her encounter with Silent Salt. While Pure Vanilla and Hollyberry seemed to sympathise with her, the other two had some conflicted feelings.
She was now sitting on the edge of a high-backed chair, her posture slightly slouched from exhaustion. The weight of the meeting still pressed on her shoulders, and she found herself staring blankly at the cup of tea in front of her, lost in thought.
Hopefully they would accept him.
“Your Majesty, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Mercurial Knight said politely, bowing his head slightly as he flew next to White Lily.
“Oh,” she murmured, then with a small, composed smile added, “Mercurial Knight, I hope your stroll around the castle was pleasant.”
Mercurial Knight remained silent for some minutes, before smiling lightly.
“The trip was nice, your majesty.”
As it was filled with chocolate and lavender.