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Dark Cacao stumbled into the room, an attendant of White Lily’s at his side, helping him into bed. The attendant had navy hair and a blue tint to her skin. Her dress was deep black, and she wore a milkcrown clip in her hair, keeping her tight bun up. Her face was obscured by a veil, although Dark Cacao was too tired to question it.
Mystic Flour was in the bed, too, pale as snow and flour. Dark Cacao shuffled inside, wrapping his arms around her. Relief practically flooded his veins. It was sudden and strong, crashing into him in waves. He practically missed whichever one of his or Golden Cheese’s soldiers took the child on the bed out of the room, if it wasn’t for the way she stirred.
However, it seemed the moment of peace was more important to her than finding where he was going, because she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed like it was the only thing keeping her veins pumping jam. He probably was, if he used a bit of his thoughts to focus on it, although that was becoming increasingly difficult. Instead, he pressed himself impossibly closer to her, trying to fulfill everything that he’d been missing.
He managed to squeeze himself under the covers of the bed with her, trying to remove the comforter’s imposing barrier. They clung to each other like koala’s, truing to absorb the other into her. The press of their souljams was almost euphoric. A part of Dark Cacao felt like he could weep. As if she was the part of his heart he was thinking of, Mystic Flour burst into tears. Dark Cacao held her close, burying his face into her long hair. It was down that day. She must have been as tired as he was.
He wondered, loosely, with the bit of his mind that was still working, if she felt as pleasant as he did from the contact. However, he did not get the chance to ask, because his eyes closed long before he managed to move his mouth.
When he opened his eyes, Dark Cacao was certain that he was in a dream. He was not in the same place he’d fallen asleep in, despite not remembering the details of the bed he’d been in, because he “awoke” to his own bedroom. At least, he was fairly certain that was what his mind was trying to conjure.
The outside of his room was not what he remembered. The morning sun was rising over the pale peach blossoms directly in front of the window. A pleasant breeze tickled the curtains. The wind was far too warm to be the Dark Cacao Kingdom. He frowned and sat up. The rest of the room was odd, too.
Instead of bare, dark walls, the wine-colored wallpaper was covered in paintings of various lovely scenes. They mostly featured the Ancients, Beasts, and their children or subordinates. The largest took up most of the wall at the end of the bed. It was a huge work of art with more details than Dark Cacao could make sense of. Inside was a peaceful scene of all of them having a picnic. Hollyberry was sitting beside her son, Royal Berry, and Eternal Sugar, who had her head in the Ancient’s lap, though Hollyberry didn’t seem to mind. Next to them were White Lily and Silent Salt, also sitting quite close together, though that was rather relative. White Lily hardly touched anyone, having always been made uncomfortable by the act. In that way, them kneeling next to each other was even more heartwarming than a hug.
Golden Cheese was flying above those sitting there, Shadow Milk next to her and lifting Pure Vanilla. The two of them were laughing as Pure Vanilla’s eyes were open in shock, like he wasn’t expecting the flight but the other two were. What pranksters… Although, something in the slight flush on Pure Vanilla’s face made Dark Cacao to believe he wasn’t as surprised as his face said he was.
Burning Spice was off to one side with the younger children, playing like they’d never been enemies. Gingerbrave, Wizard, and Candy Apple were running around Burning Spice, trying to catch those he’d stuck in his arms. Despite being trapped by a Beast, neither Strawberry or Custard Cream III looked like they were harmed. In fact, he seemed to be holding them rather lightly. Too lightly, if the indigent face of Cloud Haetae was to be believed. Or perhaps he just wanted to be the one picked up. They looked so happy, Dark Cacao couldn’t be sure.
Several teenagers were on the other side of the adults sitting down. Black Sapphire was leaning on a faerie Dark Cacao didn’t remember the name of, but recognized as one of White Lily’s knights. The silver-haired boy was whispering something into Black Sapphire’s ears. Black Sapphire seemed to be rolling his eyes, although not at the Faerie. Rather, it was the pink-haired one. Dark Cacao recognized him as one of Eternal Sugar’s servants, though he also wasn’t sure who. Unlike Pure Vanilla, Hollyberry didn’t often discuss the servants of her other half. The boy with the feathered wings had a book in his lap, which he was eagerly showing… Dark Choco, who was included in this scene. Oddly enough, he looked happy to be there, if a bit tense. Perhaps having others to bond with had raised his spirits. It made Dark Cacao throat feel tight. Maybe… Maybe, at least that part of this scene would come true.
When Dark Cacao truly stared into the sole tree in the background, it looked almost like a face was staring back at him. He didn’t recognize who it was, but something about it stirred the memory of a description to him. Long hair, delicate wings, and a warm smile; Elder Faerie had been painted there.
Right besides that tree, further ahead than everyone else, was Dark Cacao. Sitting next to him was Mystic Flour, a serene smile on her face.
More shocking than the paintings or room, however, was the very woman depicted with him there now being beside him in bed. She was, much like Dark Cacao, fully clothed, although she seemed more casual than Dark Cacao ever remembered seeing her. It might have been what she was wearing before, but seeing as Dark Cacao had paid little to no attention to it before, he wasn’t fully certain. He was, however, sure that it suited her more than her normal look. Her wheat-colored, silken wrap was the same, but the frog buttons were deep purple instead. From the few glances he’s got at her eyes, they were a similar shade.
Surprisingly, she slowly blinked them awake. She raised herself up and stretched, her face perfectly still. “Ah, Shadow Milk, you’ve done it again…” She murmured, though a fond smile stretched across her face. She looked like something out of a dream, a beautiful force of nature. Dark Cacao’s cheeks flushed gently despite himself. He cleared his throat, making her gaze turn to him. “Ah, hello…”
“What has Shadow Milk done?” He asked, his voice gruff from just waking.
“Made us an Other Realm, of course.” She sighed, “Although, I suppose you wouldn’t be used to the feeling of being in one… I do wonder what physical location he chose to tie it to, if any at all.” Mystic Flour seemed to sense the question in his eyes, because she continued, “Other Realms can be tied to locations, or they can be mental worlds. It’s much easier to make them only exist in dreams, like Eternal Sugar’s garden, but it can become much more difficult to allow others to enter them. That’s why she has a gate, although it can sometimes close for an extended period.” Mystic Flour smiled, “She’s trapped herself in there on more than one occasion."
It was odd to see her so alive. She still wasn’t very expressive, her smile was barely there, but it was more than Dark Cacao had ever seen on her before. When she stood, it was with the grace of someone who’d practiced movement. Not just the act of standing itself, but her back wasn’t as tautly straight as it had once bit, nor was it bent. She walked like she’d been a trained dancer, full of grace and poise. She was, in a word, elegant, but there was a warmth to her eyes. When she smiled, crows' feet played on her face and slight dimples appeared. Looking at her, it was almost impossible to equate this woman to the Beast of Apathy.
She paused in front of the bookshelf, her gaze flicking over the titles. “It truly is amazing, the detail that was put into this room. Whoever made it must have loved us very much; Or, perhaps, it was made by our own minds.” She voiced her theories aloud, picking a book off the wall. It was a tale of a hero who’d fought against evil and won, marrying the princess in the end and becoming a great king. It had been something beloved by Dark Cacao since he was young, but he hadn’t seen the cover in so much color before.
The style was similar to the painting on the wall, all things considered, but the characters were ones Dark Cacao didn’t fully recognize. He knew the hero, of course. He was a blue cookie with short hair that was both white and navy. He wore a deep, pinkish red cloak, but the fur and styling of a king was missing from this rendition. His hair was longer, too, and tied up behind him in a ponytail. The girl he was holding was also different. She resembled Pure Vanilla, somehow. She had blonde hair, like the princess, but her clothes were simpler. Her skirt was wool and her apron was worn but embroidered with flowers. Her blouse and the fabric wrapped around the top of her head were patched up, but she had a smile on her face and a single birthmark on her forehead, almost in the shape of a star. Dark Cacao recognized her as being the shepherdess, although he couldn’t understand why she would be on the cover of the novel.
“I’m surprised you’ve read this.”
“Of course I have. It was written by my little brother, after all. He even gave me a second copy, so I could write a lesson for my nephew. I don’t even think Blueberry Milk knew it at the time, but I could see how doting a father he was from a mile away. What did I write again… Ah, yes, ‘Look upon these pages, my child. Is it not beautiful how heroes always find a way to remain steadfast toward their goal?’”
“…That was you?” Dark Cacao asked, his eyes widening in wonder. It was such a simple lesson, and yet, he knew it so well. It had been the basis of who he was. When he decided he would use the souljam, it was something he carried with him all the while.
Mystic Flour nodded simply, pulling a second book out. This one had the princess on the cover. She was beautiful, her hair spilling down and around her, fading into a dark gray at the tips. Her clothes were navy and accented with gold. Her head was held high, and a crown was atop her head. Next to the other cover, she looked monotone, almost cold. Dark Cacao had never thought of her that way before, but it was impossible to ignore now.
“How odd…” Mystic Flour murmured, “I don’t remember the princess being that important to the story. For the first half, certainly, but not enough to justify putting her on the cover.”
“Truly?” Dark Cacao asked, “But doesn’t she marry the main character in the end?” Mystic Flour chuckled at that, shaking her head.
“No, no. You must have read a different version. Plum Juice, the hero, marries Vanilla Wafer, the shepherdess. Princess Violet Jam gets less and less important as the book goes on…” She smiles to herself, “In the end, she gives her blessing to Plum Juice and Vanilla Wafer, and gives them a house in the country. There, they live happily ever after… Ah, I suppose I shouldn’t have given you a spoiler.” She giggled, placing both books on the edge of the bed.
“But what about Plum Juice’s resolution to marry her at the start?” Dark Cacao asked, picking up the novel. He flipped it open to a random page in the first half, and it was just like he remembered. He wanted to marry Violet Jam, not the shepherdess he’d only seen a few times in the marketplace.
“Resolution isn’t everything. It cannot exist without change. Staying on a path no matter new information is foolishness, and will lead you to despair, not happiness. It would do you well to learn that.” She stated, sighing at the end. “I believe that’s why Eternal Sugar has been so unhappy as of late.”
“A lack of action cannot be equated to determination on a set path.” Dark Cacao asserted. Mystic Flour simply shook her head, like it was an argument she was tired of having. He wondered who she’d had it with before. Perhaps, in some way, it had been herself. He frowned.
“Let us agree to disagree,“ She said, blinking her eyes closed. “I do not wish to fight you.”
“Do you wish for anything?” Dark Cacao bitterly asked. Surprisingly, Mystic Flour nodded.
“I wish for my Cloud Haetae to be happy. I wish to have a home once more. I wish for my siblings to be close again… Oh.” She paused, a realization washing over her face before a flush covered it. “How foolish of me. I misinterpreted Shadow Milk’s invitation.” She shook her head, a flustered smile overtaking her face, “I was so sick, I believed that he’d invited all of us. I should have known better than to assume, but I was so excited for a chance to get my siblings together that I hardly noticed the exact wording.” She chuckled, her embarrassment clear.
Dark Cacao stood and began walking around the room as well. “If you were anything like me, it was painful just to focus enough to read.” He firmly said. He soon found himself in front of a dressing table. Many objects covered it, from makeup to hair accessories, and yet it was very organized. He found himself drawn to a certain object in particular; A jade comb, made to look like a dragon fly sitting on a vine. It was beautifully carved.
“Thank you,” Mystic Flour said, approaching him. “Does that old thing peak your interest?”
“Yes.” Dark Cacao stated simply, “Who carved it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Mystic Flour began, “It was a gift from Cloud Haetae’s mother. I’m afraid the real one doesn’t exist anymore.” Her expression turned pained, like an aching wound was being picked at. “I’m afraid it was lost when the majority of my old kingdom was destroyed. What stands now is only a piece of it, and they hardly need me.” She turned to look out the window at the peach trees sitting there. Dark Cacao loosely wondered if they were real, and if so, what they would taste like. Would they be similar to the peaches Dark Cacao knew, or would they have a flavor from a time long past, that now only existed in dreams and memories? “I used to take care of the peach trees.” She whispered, so softly that Dark Cacao wasn’t certain it was meant for his ears. “I would care for them, and then I’d meditate and pray on the eastern side at sunrise.”
“What did you pray for?” He asked, just as softly. She hummed lightly, the noncommittal sound of her sorting through her memories.
“Happiness,” She started, “Though I don’t fully believe its possible to achieve. Moments of happiness are beautiful, but contentment is all one can hope to last a lifetime.” She continued, “Love, too. Forgiveness. Anything that my people lacked, I would pray to the witches for.” She frowned, “They barely answered. Sometimes, I wondered if I was merely talking to myself.”
Dark Cacao paused, finally, setting the comb down. Mystic Flour was so strange. She wasn’t discontented with the world, nor was she happy to live in it. She was simply… Alright with her existence. At peace with it, some might say. It raised more questions than it answered. “Why are you so peaceful?”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t tried to turn me to flour once. You haven’t even tried to attack in the slightest. What is your plan?”
“I have none.” She stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s been so long since we saw each other last, of course my opinions might change. I still believe in apathy, and there’s no reason to have an opinion on most things, but I also believe in apathy to others' choices. If they do not affect me, I will not step in on them. That’s the key to inner peace.”
“And what if they do disagree with you?” He hardened his brow, “What if I disagree with you?”
“I’m not a fool. There will always be situations like that. But if I were to care about every little thing, I wouldn’t be the Beast of Apathy, would I?” She chuckled at her own joke. Dark Cacao sighed, and reached a hand out. She raised a brow, but didn’t question him, nor took his hand.
“Come back to the Dark Cacao Kingdom with me.” He said, “I do not wish to go through the pain of soulsickness again.”
“And the reason you invite me to live with you instead of using this new connection we have?” She asked, tilting her head. Dark Cacao stood stiffly, but eventually sighed and nodded.
“I will tell you the truth of the matter. You are… Clearly good at many things. You wish for a home, don’t you? Well, I wish for my son back.” He looked up, staring at the painting on the wall once more. Seeing Dark Choco with friends, together with Dark Cacao, made his heart ache in a way it hadn’t in years. No matter how he might deny it, his son was an open wound. “You changed your opinions on fighting the ancients and Cloud Haetae is like your child. I want to know how you did it, and I want it for my own life.”
“No two lives are the same. I cannot wave my fingers and make your son come home.” Dark Cacao sighed, tightening his eyes closed.
“I don’t believe he considers the castle his home anymore.”
“If he didn’t, why would he avoid it? He feels shame or anger, but neither are the opposite of love.” She smiled, “I will come back with you, but I do not wish to live with you. I want my own home with my Cloud Haetae, with a view of the sunset and a good school nearby. It’s been too long since Cloud Haetae has been able to properly live as a child instead of a caretaker.”
“I’ll send them to the best school in the kingdom, I promise it.” He bowed to her slightly, only for her to bow even more deeply.
“I won’t apologize for my actions because I do not regret them. I believe that what I have done was not entirely wrong, and I believe that the way I acted was still a fair solution to the innate lack of meaning in life. However, I will apologize to you for the harm I have done to your kingdom and the separation of your son. That was unfair of me.” She stated. Her eyes were closed, but she looked calm. Her words were shockingly genuine, though slightly practiced, like she’d considered how she’d say this before. Perhaps she’d been thinking about it since they entered this odd dream-world.
Dark Cacao did not reply, but he nodded seriously. Mystic Flour smiled at him, “Thank you for accepting my apology.” She looked behind him, “This dream will probably end soon. We’ve been sleeping for a while.” She murmured. Slowly, she sat back down on the bed. “Do you think that we should try reading the versions of this tale the other knows?” She smiled, “I would love to see what my brother's writing has been turned into, though I’m sure he’d hate it…” She chuckled lightly. Dark Cacao sat beside her, taking the copy of the book with the shepherdess. Perhaps she and Plum Juice would make a good couple, after all.
Mystic Flour was humming a tune that Dark Cacao didn’t quite recognize, but he found himself wanting to know the name. He’d ask her when they woke up, or on the way to his kingdom. His people would likely be upset with him, but that could be fixed with time and understanding. Maybe she could help the final survivors, or maybe she’d show Dark Choco that his father would accept him back, too. Regardless, as Dark Cacao opened the book to a phrase he knew quite well, he couldn’t help but feel like a page had been turned in his life, too.