Chapter Text
Truth had always been a kind soul. He treated everyone with compassion. He never hurt those who did not deserve it. He took no more than he needed.
Sometimes even less, to be completely honest.
He was calm, level-headed, patient. He would give everything, anything, day after day. If he could only see his friends flourish and grow... that was all that mattered to him. That was all that was ever going to matter, in the end.
So why was he so...
... so tired?
How did healing take so much energy to do? How was showing care such a chore? It didn't make any sense! Surely being good was supposed to feel good too!
Of course! It did, of course. Why wouldn't it? Truth was caring. Truth was kind. Truth loved. Truth was good.
Is that why he lay awake at night, shaken out of his slumber by horrible nightmares? He could barely grasp a blink of rest, trembling under his covers like a leaf in the wind, tears spilling down his dough.
He'd lost her. He'd lost her, and he'd lose everyone else too. That useless, pathetic Truth. That painful Truth nobody asked for.
Their curse.
"Good morning, Truth!" They cried, light descending upon their gleaming grins.
"You're the best, Truth!"
"Take care, Truth!"
"We love you, we love you, we love you, Truth!"
He beamed, the praise tingling in his ears like a soothing melody. They didn't know his suffering, and witches knew he wouldn't tell them.
He took their hands in his. He closed his eyes, and wiped their dough clean of wounds, of imperfections. Fatigue crossed his features briefly, feeling his hands shake in theirs.
"Thank you for healing me, Truth!" They bowed deeply, head hung in solemn gratitude.
How sweet my citizens are...
"I'm so happy, Truth! I love you, Truth!"
I wonder if they know...
"Long live His Majesty, Truth!"
What happens...
"Our saviour, Truth! our grace!"
Behind closed doors.
A shining light against darkness and shadow. That glowing cyan, that ocean, that sky.
The blueberry hat of a jester. Of a Beast.
Earthbread had it's eyes trained on Truth, that he knew for certain. Every step, every mess, his to take, his to fix. Every move on a chess board he couldn't control, feeling deep in his gut that his side wasn't the one winning. Doubt rooted in his heart blossomed into despair, grasping helplessly at the strings of puppets falling through his fingers.
His friends. His kingdom. Strangers he wish he'd met under different circumstances. Even the timeline itself.
Gone. Vanishing in a puff of smoke. A magic trick.
He could heal the world, and it wouldn't matter. Because, in the end, the only one that really needed healing was none other than Truth himself.
Unfortunately, those scars had sat there untouched far too long to repair.
A husk of his luminous presence stared back at him through the shattered mirror. A recluse. A traitor. A piece of his soul he'd left behind long ago, begging himself not to look back.
"Oh Truuuuth~" The jester chirped, stalking forward. Truth felt his knees buckle. "Don't tell me you're scared, Truth! I thought you wanted to be my friend."
"I... I do..."
"So naive," Deceit hissed, coattails lengthening around the space, writhing like pythons. "Look at the mess you've made, Truth! You diiirty, ugly Truth."
Dirty, dirty, ugly Truth.
Ugly, dirty, unwanted Truth.
"What do you tell them, Truth? A harmless white-lie? Or the gory details, hmm?"
Gory Truth. Deadly Truth.
"Do you break their poor hearts with harsh honesty? Do you soothe their souls with fabricated falsities?"
Harsh Truth. Did they need it? Did they want it?
"Come to think of it, Truthy, how come you never roll up those sleeves of yours? Is there something you're trying to HIDE?"
Every word he spoke felt wrong. Felt like an illusion, a filthy lie. Felt like a curtain pulled over all those atrocities.
They are just children.
But even so...
... is it not my duty to tell them the truth?
"Oh Compassionate Truth-Seeker! Oh Truth, give us the answers we seek!"
Was this not the path to corruption? Was he rotting their minds? Was he hurting their souls? Had those that came before him, those endless founts of knowledge, was this not their downfall?
Were cookies baked to be eaten?
And was that his truth to tell?
Swear it, as the King. Swear it to all those who seek your guidance. Swear it to Earthbread.
Swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Truth. Truth, Truth, Truth, Truth, Truth, Truth, Truth.
"Aghk..." He groaned, clutching his head. "Kh... a-ah..."
He spun desperately on his heels as countless cookies fell to their knees before him, doubled over in pain, jam seeping from their clothes into the tiles on the floor, staining the pristine white a deep, bloody red.
Why are there so many of you...?
"Please, Truth... are we only here to suffer...?"
"Heal us, Truth! We need you, Truth...!"
I am... so sick of hearing that name.
Why? Why must I always be the one to deliver the bad news?
They're all counting on me, yet witches know I have not a clue what for.
Witches know. Yes they do, I'm sure.
Still, somehow, it has fallen upon myself to keep the peace in this world. This world... this world that may very well fall apart before our eyes.
All because of me. Because I failed. Because no matter what I do, someone always comes to mess it up again. Because the truth, the real truths of Earthbread, will stay rotten.
Crumbs... the sheen of that blade...
I know my friends wouldn't approve, but...
... Let's try this one more time.
"Thank you for healing us, Pure Vanilla Cookie!" The villagers squealed, wrapping their arms around the hero, who, in turn, knelt down to embrace them equally as warmly. "We love you, Pure Vanilla Cookie!!"
"Haha...!" Pure Vanilla Cookie beamed, running a hand through his icing. "How delightful to hear. All of you are so very kind to me, aren't you?"
Once the collected group had finally scarpered, the king tensed, turning to face the figure he knew almost certainly was there.
"Pure Vanilla Cookie," Black Raisin Cookie began, reaching out a hand to help him up. "You really never give yourself a rest, do you?"
He gave a bow, brushing down his muddied robe. "Ah, my friend! You underestimate how much I love my job!"
"Oh, I'm sure you love your 'job'. Doesn't mean you have to work overtime, though, does it?"
Pure Vanilla Cookie frowned, brow furrowed. Sure, sometimes it was a little hard to stand after such a large healing session, but... that couldn't be a bad thing, could it? "While I appreciate your concern, Black Raisin Cookie, I assure you, I'm actually managing rather well. You mustn't worry about me. I'm fine."
"I... but...-!"
"No buts!" He held up a hand, already walking away, albeit a little shakily. "You know what? I think you should go home and have a nice nap, hmm? All that work you do for the kingdom, it has to be exhausting!"
Black Raisin Cookie opened her mouth to say something more, but the king was, by now, far out of earshot. She crossed her arms, shoulders sinking.
"Oh, Pure Vanilla Cookie..."
And with that, the streets fell silent.
Curtains swished to a close, cast huddled behind, shrouded in a velvet darkness...
... the bitter end of Truth's Lament.