The warmth of the sun has always been comforting. Even back in the Vanilla Kingdom, he loved to just feel its embrace. It felt safe. It felt home.
But here, in the Other Realm, it didn't feel natural to be showered by the light of day. Something was definitely wrong. He looked up and noticed that the Spiral of Deceit looked different. It wasn't the Spiral he knew. It didn't have moving stairs or untruthful facts spread all over it. It stood proud and majestic, towering over everything in his range of sight.
Pure Vanilla Cookie was mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the environment that surrounded him: people all over the place, the street covered in candid white tiles, fountains, houses, shops. Everything what a lively and prosperous kingdom had.
When he tried to ask a passerby for directions or overall what place it was, he passed right through them. Horror painted his face, but it was quickly washed away by the realization that this was a memory. Someone's memory. He just had to figure out who it belonged to. He was a smart fella, he could do it. For now it was better to just enjoy this, and hopefully get something out of it. Then, he saw it, or more like, him: Shadow Milk Cookie, looking happier than he's ever seen him. But that wasn't the Shadow Milk Cookie he knew, that wasn't the deceitful and lonely jester that tried to end his life multiple times already. He looked...different: dressed differently, with a long black vest and a golden piece of cloth on his chest that draped behind him like molten auric. His hair was like a blanket of stars, deep blue and filled with constellations, shining in the deep dark of the shadows. His eyes stayed the same, but they were kinder, softer. Alive. He was smiling and giggling sweetly at people performing on the street. Then it hit him: that wasn't Shadow Milk Cookie, that was the Fount of Knowledge. The one who bestowed recognition on Cookiekind, the one who spread the enlightenment through all of Earthbread. The reason every kingdom was progressing and made to be. It was him, standing before his own two eyes. He caught the way his eyes glimmered with interest at whatever the townsfolks were up to. He caught the way he gently explained the formulas of mathematics to a student. He caught the way he was telling a child a story like it was his own. It was the same Cookie he saw back then. When he realized the Beast was so, so alone. What if this memory wasn't of a casual folk? What if these... Were Shadow Milk Cookie's memories?
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? My silly Vanilly peering into my memories, mh ? You're not as gentlemanly as I thought you'd be~" the familiar voice of certain jester echoed in his ear, gradually becoming clearer with every word spoken, until, it was whispering right in his ear, rich and crisp by years spent narrating his victims' demises. He turned his head with surprise, to see Shadow Milk himself floating near him.
"Wha- This is.. Your memory?"
"But why of course, even I, the best performer in the whole world deserve an act of my own, don'tcha think?"
Pure Vanilla stared at him, still a bit confused for his sudden appearance.
"Ahhh, once again Deceit has beaten your lovely and ugh, disgustingly bitter Truth" before he could reply, a finger was on his mouth shutting him up.
"Shhhh, my speech isn't over yet Nilly~ As I was saying-"
The scenario changed. It was sudden and violent, leaving both with a feeling of nausea deep in their gut, Pure Vanilla almost falling over from the force caused by the explosive spinning of their surroundings.
'A.. room in the Spire?' the Ancient thought.
'Weird.. I don't see the connection but I guess we'll have to just wait and see'
Shadow Milk Cookie was still smugly grinning at his side looking at him without even turning his head, almost like he was trying hard not to laugh at him. Pure Vanilla just smiled softly. This pissed him off, and the jester looked away scoffing, arms crossed and brows knitted.
Despite the terrible illumination of the chamber, he could still see it was one big room, probably belonging to someone important. Looking around, the Ancient just kept pacing around and trying his best to not let his curiosity overcome his etiquette: he mustn't touch someone else's stuff without permission first, and since he didn't who was the owner was, he had no one to question.
When they suddenly heard a sneeze, they found themselves with a very busy Fount of Knowledge scrolling through scrolls and documents.
"Witches, just how many Cookies wish to know the Truth.. I love my job but it hurts to see their poor little faces contort when they hear a bitter one. Poor little Cookies... I wish I could do something more for them" said the Fount to himself sighing sadly. Shadow Milk freezed completely. It couldn't have been THAT memory, right? Right?
"Let's see what my lovely people are thinking today! Always so smart and pas-" he quickly stopped mid sentence.
Hearing his people's thoughts was just one of his many powers, but this? This was different.
'Did he really do that?'
'I'm not sure if we can trust the Fount of Knowledge'
'Can we really? Look how he hurt that Cookie... Poor guy just wanted to know if his wife would survive, and he came home to the notice his wife couldn't possibly make it'
'I know right! No tact, nothing.. What a beast'
'He ain't even helpin' no more! Just makin' us more depressed! Ya know... He ain't that useful at this point'
'Pfft- You're right'
Shadow Milk's mouth went dry, the air punched out of his lungs. It couldn't have been. Not again. He didn't need to relive it again. One rejection was enough.
Dark umbras rose from the point the Fount of Knowledge was standing, mimicking shape of cookies surrounding him. Menacingly. Judging. There were no recognizable features on their person, just bright blue eyes staring downwards. Looking down on him. The Cookie's legs gave out, resulting in him collapsing onto the floor with a loud thud. He grabbed his head with his hands, shaking and fighting hard to keep his eyes closed and not look at the figures around him in their judgmental stares.
"Not you again.. Please not again.."
Wrestling his own tears from spilling out, he started pulling on his hair to release the adrenaline.
'I thought you knew all the answers'
"I do.. I swear I do.."
'Pathetic liar.'
"I never lied to you I promise.. I would never deceive you.."
'Scary..'
"No that- That wasn't my intention at all!"
'Look at how he hurt all those Cookies'
"No! I would never hurt anyone! Especially not you! You're my people! I love to help you! Just please, believe me! I'm begging you!"
He was sobbing at this point, voice strained with the continuous attempt of remaining intact in front of them. He was meant to set an example. If he wasn't able to keep it together, more people would start doubting him.
Pure Vanilla noticed, because of course he did, how Shadow Milk tightened in his shoulders, eyes wide and panicking. His breath was picking up and sounded ragged, like it was viciously battling to remain steady and present in his throat.
The Fount of Knowledge was on the floor of his chamber, hunched over himself, in guilt, judgement and shame. The shame you feel as a kid when you let down someone you care about. The shame that comes into your mind when you think of failure. He failed them. He failed the Witches. He failed himself.
"Shadow Milk I-"
"Do not. This is the Truth you believe in, is it not Nilly dearest?"
He tried to sound confident and smug, trying to tease Pure Vanilla out of what he just saw, but his voice was cracking at the sides like it was going to break at any given chance.
"No, but you-"
Even floating couldn't help the way his chest heaved like an elephant just stepped on it. He felt like he was falling at the bottom of a pit. When bones break and blood spills. A deaf sound could be heard, the result of his knees hitting the hard surface of pristine white floor underneath them. He gripped his chest, fearing that if he didn't, his lungs and heart would've fallen right out it. His breaths came in ragged and irregular, waves of panic washing over him as if he was being eaten from the inside. He was shaking and trembling, hands flying from his chest to the roots if his hair, gripping tightly. Well, old habits die hard.
When Pure Vanilla tried to approach calmly, his hand inviting a caress or whatever kind feeling the other needed, it was aggressively swatted away, the Beast's eyes penetrating his soul from his all fours position. But he kept kneeling next to him, he was very well used to his other half's showcase of aggression and rage. If he needed any kind of support, he was there. Waiting patiently. Being in every step of the process.
"It was you! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU AND YOUR STUPID TRUTH DID ALL OF THIS!" the Ancient didn't even flinch. He just looked at him with compassion. He wasn't pitying him, he was understanding. The understanding he had yearned for so long was right there in front of him, at a hand's reach, and yet, he chose to retract said hand and stab himself in the heart with it.
Slowly dragging himself with his back touching the wall, his knees reaching his chest, face in one hand and the other clawing at his scalp like a sailor to an anchor.
"I didn't want to- I- I never wanted to let you down- I'm sorry I.. I'll do better next time I promise! I'll put more effort! I'll give you your answers! Just please let me be your helper all over again..!"
The tears streaming down his face quickly got dried by the pad of a tanned and warm thumb that vaguely smelled like vanilla. He got lost in the feeling, almost feeling asleep, when the excruciating cut in his consciousness decided to twist the knife in his reopened wound.
"GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU- YOU DID THIS! ONE DAY I'LL END YOU I SWEAR I WILL! NOW GET. OUT."
When he could no longer feel the presence of his Souljam in the Other-Realm, he stared at the window in the room, looking at the starry night sky, looking like a painted ceiling of the best of artists.
Newfound wounds now scarred his already blemished soul. That was exactly the reason he let no one in. That was exactly why he didn't need to get attached. He wasn't going to let someone down again. But he recalled wishing for someone, anyone to give him all the tenderness back, all the leniency and empathy he distributed, he wanted to be subjected to it atleast once. He wanted to feel appreciated, even if that someone was just humoring him. But he kept pushing Pure Vanilla back, and honestly, he was confused for that at times.
He wasn't a violent dog, he didn't know why he bit.
Pure Vanilla stared at the entrance of the Spire as if it was the first time seeing it. And maybe it was, since it was his first time really seeing it.
He wanted to show Shadow Milk the remedy, that even the deepest cuts can get sown back together with enough patience, and he had plenty to give. If it meant spilling his heart out to give him a new one, then so be it.
Pure Vanilla was day, warm and fuzzy. Shadow Milk was night, cold and scary. There are only two points when Sun and Moon meet, and they'll only shine if they have eachother's light. Pure Vanilla ventured in the shadow of the night to see the Beast glimmer. And they were both aware he'll never see him in the daylight.
