Chapter Text
The temple was exactly where she had left it a week ago after her last meditation session, yet she could see what transpired in just a week. She’d gotten used to how this place changed in time.
Mainly, the nearest peach blossom tree next to the entrance had finally had its flowers bloom. She had been particularly worried for that little one, for its neighbors and friends had all long since shed their young exteriors, their pink petals already carpeting the floor in a natural pink, with only parts of her trailing robe making a path through a sea of sweet aroma.
The Flour of Volition held her hand and placed it gently on the blooming tree, caressing its tender bark, looking up at its branches, noting the tiny white beads of fruit barely visible within each flower bud.
This one’s coming along nicely, she thought, pushing herself away from the tree and towards the entrance.
Good, yet another has reached a state of fruition and great potential.
Just as they all should.
She began her daily cleaning, conjuring her wisps of wind and flour to sweep the dust off the floors and walls. With the lightest flick of her white robes, the petals near the entrance, as if coming to life, got swept up and enveloped each of the statues in the temple. She made them dance circles, making sure to remove every imperfection from every crevice of the deities forged in bitter chocolate, all named, researched, and taught by her.
When she felt satisfied, with another wave of her hand, the petals went back to their slumber outside the temple, and the temple was clean again, just for today’s special occasion.
Another band of pilgrims and scholars have arrived at the gate, a message delivered swiftly by the Guardian’s little one.
They were a quick little haetae, climbing up the treacherous stairs under the scorching sun with the message tucked undamaged between their jaws, leaving the message and coming to rest under the shades of trees afterwards, occasionally with a small bowl of steamed buns already there from the pantry as a snack.
They always finished the whole bowl, something she consistently avoided to do through her frequent fastings.
She gathered the cushions and placed them in a square grid just outside the temple’s entrance. She lit up the incense, placed her offerings, and unrolled the mats, all the necessary procedures for another day of her duties.
She heard light taps coming up the stairs and turned around, expecting an early cookie to arrive at her station.
But it was the little one, panting as they transformed into their cookie form, skidding to a halt and sending the petals flying.
“Master! I’ve come to bring you some urgent news!” They announced out of breath, their arms out forward while bowing to her, “Those cookies you’ve served, those ones my mother warned you against … are back!”
She raised an eyebrow. “... Which ones?”
“The ones who ravaged the temple’s garden for food! They’re back! They said they wanted to make another wish before four fortnights had passed!”
The Flour of Volition held a hand to her chin as she kneeled down to Cloud Haetae Cookie’s level. “Are you sure it’s them again?”
“With certainty! My mom never lies about these things! She said she’s worried you’ll say-”
“Let them in?” She finished for the little haetae, petting their head gently. “My purpose is to serve wishes to those in need. If they’re in dire need of something, why should I limit their access to the one source that could end their worries?”
“And let them potentially destroy the temple in the process?” Cloud Haetae Cookie answered, “What about the entire pagoda that you tend to every day? They’ll only bring more worry to the other cookies with well intentions-”
“Nonsense, little one, what made you judge cookiekind this way?” She spoke with authority, causing the little haetae to grow quiet. “It is unlike you to speak of the cookies with such prejudice.”
“There are no cookies with pure malice that step foot in this pagoda.” The Flour of Volition rose back up to her height and took steps into the field of petals, “Those who come to me have a great and noble reason to do so. I have served and granted countless wishes in my whole existence, and cookies have been nothing but the most grateful for the treasures I procure, the medicine I produce, the food I grow, the will I inspire, residing within them.” She smiled as she glanced at the back of her trampled temple garden.
She still needed to work on getting new saplings in after the wish-granting.
“But what about those who destroyed your garden? Are those actions not of ill intent? They almost toppled over the statue of Apricot Abundance!” Cloud Haetae Cookie stared up at her, their face full of questions, “Is that not malice by your definition?”
“... Like I mentioned, Cloud Haetae Cookie, they’ve explained to me their reasons to resort to such … brash behaviors.” She replied, “Their loved ones were in dire need of food for an entire village, and once I said that it would take time to produce such an amount, they decided to take matters into their own hands.” She turned her head towards the uprooted trees and tried to look past the blackened flowers, “That is their desperation and care for others at work here, their will to protect and feed the ones in need.” She stopped next to Cloud Haetae Cookie, “In fact, I’d say that’s a valiant effort of Volition on their part to have such urgency.”
“I just … they’re being so … mean to the trees we’ve planted together.” Cloud Haetae pursed their lips and kicked the floor, sending petals into the air once more, “It sucks that we have to start over from scratch again.”
“Ah, but we have an eternity and more to watch our trees bear fruit, little one.” The Flour of Volition smiled at the little haetae, “We’re the blessed beings on Earthbread that could continue this wonderful cycle of inspiration to all cookies. Little bumps on the road like these,” She gestured towards the tattered garden, “are meaningless in the grand scheme of our purpose.”
The little one stayed quiet as she led them back to the top of the stairs, arms crossed, a clear shade of annoyance present on their face, “I don’t like them. They looked a little too eager to pry the peaches from our trees.”
“Now’s not the time for such opinions, Cloud Haetae Cookie.” The Flour of Volition sighed lightly, “Bring them all in, I’ve brushed up the temple in hopes they would see it in good shape. My wish duties for today should only last until the early evening.” She made her way back to the grid of cushions she prepared before, and set up her small table where requests are to be taken by her.
“... Are you sure you don’t want the buns?” Cloud Haetae Cookie waddled their way to her and placed the small bowl of steamed buns, a sweet aroma rising among the peach petals, “You’ve set your record for your latest fasting … mom’s getting worried, you’ve barely left the pagoda to greet us.”
The Flour of Volition only chuckled, “Oh, Cloud Haetae Cookie, those are meant as treats for your hard work. I’m doing wonderful, I’m simply a little too busy recently to leave for needs trivial to Emissaries."
“... Not even a little bite?”
She only gave the little haetae one more look before pushing the bowl away, “You should enjoy them, they’ll grant you more sustenance than what they could give me.”
The little one, after lingering with their hands around the bowl rim, finally grabbed it and trudged to the edge of the stairs. In one flip, they went on all fours, and scurried away, leaving the Flour of Volition alone once more.
She propped her arms onto the table and waited, waited for the cookies to finally arrive and send their requests of a chest full of gold, a boat of coins, a fountain of jewels, trinkets and baubles, all for their own needs, all desired of their own will and Volition.
She felt her body sway a little and flinched, feeling her body tremble, just the tiniest amount. Her hand instinctually moved towards the flat stomach that she had subjected herself for an entire month and rubbed it.
No response, no roars of hunger like she suspected.
Perhaps just an illusion on her part.
No matter, her thoughts didn’t matter at that time.
All that mattered was the cookies who cultivated their own will and Volition.
And she couldn’t be more eager to let the cycle continue.
… How foolish of her to even entertain such naive thoughts.
The signs were all there, creeping under the surface, waiting to burst open and reap her dry, and she only fed it with her ignorant nature, her doubts cast aside in favor of these impulsive fiends, conditioned by her tainted will.
It started with just handfuls of jellies, then a bowl, then a basket, a box, a barn, a reservoir, a whole village’s worth of jellies, asked for, requested by, lied spun by the same greedy cookies she once served and deemed as cookies with good intentions.
Mystic Flour Cookie adjusted her position as she sat cross-legged in the emptiness of the gray box she found herself in. The floor was hard and unwavering, like a great wall that refused to be chipped away.
No sounds, no others, just her and her thoughts alone, perfect for meditation.
An environment surprisingly peaceful considering its function.
A cage, cast by the one cookie she once considered a tolerable ally.
Silent Salt Cookie.
The traitor, resorting to the brutish ways of his “discipline”, using his knights to ambush her when she was caught off guard, using his silence to deceive them all, all the way back before the sealing…
It wasn’t all bad, though, seeing the Beast of Deceit fall to despair by a lie unknown to them all was … a refreshing sight to behold. Part of her was almost intrigued by the sheer speed that knight turned against the blue jester.
She would’ve chuckled had the same thing not happened to her.
Nevertheless, she kept her position still and focused on her breathing, her back straightened, her eyes closed, letting the silence engulf her in its peaceful nature. It was a perfect contrast to that fateful day, the day when she learned the cookies’ true nature, the day where she saw her beloved pagoda going up in flames, followed by cackles, screams, and sounds of metal cutting through dough like butter …
The little one, kneeling by their mother’s side, their little paw clumsily plugged into the wounds of the great Haetae, trickles of strawberry jam piercing through their incessant cries for help. All the while, those foul cookies gouged on the offerings she bestowed upon the Guardian, just a few hours before, their eyes gleaming with gold, greed, their lips chowing up and down like barbarians after a hunt of elks, their non-stop urge to consume more, more, more, more, MORE-
She shook those thoughts away immediately.
Breathe in, she commanded herself.
Breathe out.
All shall come to pass in time. Even as she’s trapped within the traitor’s cage.
All shall come, to pass.
Eventually.
As her breathing slowed, she felt something take shape within the empty space. She let her eyes open for just a moment, a peek into the black-grey box.
It was a speck of white, just beside her feet.
She reached down and wiped it off the floor and examined it closely.
Flour.
An ingredient all too familiar to her. Although, why? There’s nobody else but her within this prison. Surely it could not have come from the Devil of Silence, given his … distaste towards her preachings of enlightenment.
She adjusted her veil and brushed away this speck of flour with little thought, tidied her robes and began her mediation once more, but before she could even engage in her own thoughts, a flow of force caused her to suddenly choke wildly.
She covered her mouth and coughed hard. Now just what could it be this time-
A small pile of flour rested on her hands.
She blinked several times.
Impossible. Impossible. These are mere figments of her imagination, surely. The Pale Plague she procured and studied was meant to be immune to its castor until the job was done, how could it act on her so soon?
She turned her head around where she sat, and started to notice the strips of flour accumulating on the floor, forming a ring around her. With another head turn, the strips turned to mounds, the grains and particles starting to collapse toward each other as the flour piled higher and higher.
She stood up and tried to pace around the growing piles, only to realize that her legs were stuck in it. She pulled, swiped at the piles of white that seemingly gripped her legs without mercy and without warning. She tugged and tugged as she sank deeper, deeper into the white fog.
No, this mustn't happen this soon. She still had a job to do, a duty to fulfill, a lesson to bestow upon all cookies! She can’t stop now! This is but the beginning of her path to spread her new-found enlightenment to all!
No use, her weak body after the betrayal left her unable to use her power.
She stopped pulling and watched her leg slowly sink into the flour, her mind racing with ideas.
She sat down, her legs crossed, her behind and back sinking into the white as she clasped her hands together, her head bent down, her eyes closed…
She prayed, meditated, preached her teachings to herself one more time among the million times prior.
This is what she wanted. She told herself.
The fog closed in, blocking every crevice of the cage.
This is the enlightenment she wished for, she discovered, she nurtured. She told herself.
The flog approached, both of her legs were fully in the flour now.
This is the paradise She wished upon every cookie. She told herself.
The life that she would grant them all, the life to end all suffering once and for all.
Her upper torso’s gone, now, too.
To never let anyone experience what she had witnessed that day, that … horrific, terrible day for so many …
She let the flour fill, her mind set. Her mission to save them all, from this war, this suffering, these unnecessary wants and needs and desires and impulses…
She expected the flour to graze her dough, expecting its pellets to cut and tear through her thin veil … but nothing. It felt like … nothing.
She’s engulfed in nothing, now.
Is this … the enlightenment she searched for all this time?
How … strange, yet delightful.
She tried to open her eyes to take a peek around her, but … nothing. Nothing there. Nothing everywhere.
But there’s still something left, despite it all.
Only now did she feel its presence, a creeping sensation that placed its claws on her shoulders when she least expected it.
Cold. A looming, chilling, inescapable sensation … of cold.
Is this … true enlightenment?
The paradise she had yearned for to reach …
She expected it to be warmer than this.