Chapter Text
“Forever” is such a lonely word.
In the time since Pure Vanilla Cookie and Shadow Milk Cookie “became one,” Deceit relaxed its grip upon the land. The parasites from Shadow Milk’s body decomposed over time, leaving only whispers of its existence behind. Its lackeys, too, had abandoned the new arbiter of Truth and Deceit under his guidance as an unassuming traveler of Beast-Yeast.
Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie wandered the world together as a double act, performing for common folk and aristocracy alike. Both of them, burdened by grief for their master, never truly found happiness in this new life they were given. But their passion for theater rivaled that of their mentor, and so, they came as close to happiness as they could have. And that was all he could have asked for, really.
The citizens of the Vanilla Kingdom were forced to evacuate after the King’s absence rendered the magic sustaining the sky island too unstable. After fifteen years of flight, it finally crashed. No citizens were harmed—the Kingdom was long abandoned by that point. Only Pure Vanilla Cookie’s corpse remained, slumbering peacefully beneath the apple tree.
Hollyberry Cookie, Dark Cacao Cookie, Golden Cheese Cookie, and White Lily Cookie, all presumed that Pure Vanilla Cookie had died. For centuries had passed since the nightmare had begun, and not once did he rise from his slumber. They were the ones to tend to the garden in his absence, surrounding him in flowers from their respective kingdoms as a reminder of the lives he touched so intimately during his. Though they remained hopeful that perhaps, some day, he may return to them once again, the Pure Vanilla Cookie they knew and loved would never return.
The one that returned in his stead vanished from his flowery grave without a trace.
He did not want to taint his former self’s legacy. The Cookie once known as Pure Vanilla Cookie bestowed upon itself a new name and a new face. It would be better to let Pure Vanilla’s memory die a martyr and a Hero than be tainted by his present existence. He is no longer Truth nor Deceit, but the two as one, wielded in tandem.
And thus, the tales of the Ancient Hero of Truth endured the test of time, celebrated as the martyr who succumbed to an eternal slumber in the name of delivering Earthbread from the claws of the Beast of Deceit.
Vanilla Orchid Cookie, on the other hand, existed in shadows, and shadows alone. Not one Cookie would remember his name. He would languish in eternal mourning for a friend that was never truly his, and a life he threw away for nothing.
Purposeless, ever drifting—and always suffering strange symptoms. Random fits of laughter, twitching, uncoordination. Despite remaining fairly lucid, the traveler was always considered a strange one. One that, perhaps, could not be trusted by those who had the misfortune of encountering him.
Vanilla Orchid became the caretaker of Shadow Milk’s remnants. He tended to the Spire of All Knowledge, using his power to maintain its illusion of grandeur. But in reality, it was but a skeleton of itself. And within these bones, he found shelter. The winds of Beast-Yeast whistled through its ribs, singing him to sleep during restless nights. Shed skin, long dead pustules, any remnants of his other half would do. He would cradle them all the same, no matter how decayed or disgusting, and welcome them home with a kiss.
Not every trace of Shadow Milk disappeared. And that was enough for him.
The Spire of All Knowledge was a monument to its hatred of Pure Vanilla Cookie, and everything he stood for. But to Vanilla Orchid Cookie, it became a mausoleum, a place to mourn what he had lost that day. He traveled the world in the hopes of gathering texts and items influenced by Shadow Milk Cookie, as well as any husks of the parasites it spread throughout Earthbread.
It was a noble thing. Perhaps not out of noble intent, but it spared so many Cookies pain.
When a Beast Cookie dies, the fallout is catastrophic. Any decaying corpse—or corpses in Shadow Milk’s case—can contaminate and render entire kingdoms uninhabitable. And such was the case with the Vanilla Kingdom. Despite appearing relatively unharmed, the infection had spread deep, and no magic could dispel that level of damage. Only he could see the Kingdom for what it truly was: the dead husk of a parasite.
Using the power of Deceit, Vanilla Orchid Cookie shrouded the Vanilla Kingdom and the Spire of All Knowledge in secrets and misinformation, in the hopes that none shall ever discover them. And none ever shall. He did a good job of it. And thus, he tended to its grave forevermore, his life’s purpose now to create an obituary for a creature no one else will mourn.
Is this the ending he wanted? No. Not in the slightest. But the sands of time continued to flow, and closed his wounds. The dough beneath those scabs shall never be the same, and the berry’s roots can never be extricated, but he carried on. With a sapling flowering within his heart, the poison was simply another part of him. A part of him he grew to love.
And though he shall never receive that love he so desperately craved, this was enough for him. Shadow Milk’s grave will burgeon with vanilla orchids.
Forever.