Chapter Text
It was so cold…
The place he once called home brought him nothing but more stress. He could hear his father, the king, yelling at the subjects. From time to time, the tiles of the nearest pavilion would crash against the ground, carried by the merciless wind that tore apart any plant or weak-rooted bush in its path. On the other side of the chamber, he could hear the laments of his mother, consumed by the illness that was killing her. Time and again, she begged, almost pleaded, for someone to end her suffering. But his father…
No…
He could not let her go.
As a child, Dark Cacao Cookie used to hear his father speak about his torrid love story with his wife—full of passionate kisses and… (those parts were always left out). How their families had been enemies, how they would sneak out on nights of full moon to swear eternal love despite the cursed cold that froze one’s very bones. The day they proclaimed their love to the world and, at last, their families gave in. Their dreamlike wedding, strangely blessed by a rare sunny day, their honeymoon, and all the romantic, passionate details one could imagine.
Because of these stories, Dark Cacao Cookie grew up an idealist, a dreamer, but above all, a hopeless romantic. He would often plan his future wedding in his mind. Just thinking of what his future bride might be like made him so nervous he felt like throwing up. Every time his (now deceased) aunts spoke of romance, he couldn’t help but listen in.
—“Let me tell you something… yesterday I saw an old couple walking hand in hand, and it made me think: that’s what I want.”
—“Hahaha, Bitter Truffle Cookie, getting romantic now?”
—“I’m not joking. It was touching. I imagine that after so many years, still being together must be incredible.”
He loved love itself. The way his parents loved each other must have seemed to him the purest thing in the world. Those were beautiful days—for them and for the kingdom. The realm prospered, the monsters of the Licorice Sea attacked less often, and trade thrived. The weather was strangely warm. Sometimes, the three of them even traveled together.
On one of those journeys, his parents gifted Dark Cacao a flower. Not an ordinary one—its stem was thin and fragile, seemingly too weak to survive the freezing winds. And yet, its petals never withered, as if time itself could not touch them.
His mother adored the flower, for it reminded her of what love was.
But then, she contracted a strange illness that weakened her dough. She was no longer the woman she once had been. She fell into a deep depression, blaming herself for not being present during her son’s childhood. The king, in turn, began prioritizing his wife over his kingdom. He would sit by her bed and speak softly to her: “This will pass, soon you’ll be playing with Cacao again.” Yet she felt the emptiness in his voice, that he did not even believe his own words.
The healers tried everything to find a cure, but hope grew thinner by the day. Most of the guards were dispatched in expeditions to search for a magical elixir, leaving the kingdom’s defenses frail. Crime rose, and the people began to protest.
“THIS IS UNJUST! King Molten Cocoa Cookie cannot neglect his kingdom like this!”
And as if things could not get worse, the monsters of the Licorice Sea attacked once more—striking at night, catching everyone unprepared. Countless innocents perished. The protests grew louder.
Poor king, poor queen.
Years passed, and the queen’s health declined further. She felt as though she were dead while still breathing—watching her son grow, watching her husband descend into madness, and unable to do anything. She spent her days in bed, asleep. The king still visited her room to talk, but always found her lying on her side, facing away. He knew she was awake, but she never turned toward him. She was his living reminder of failure.
“Our son grows stronger with the sword. At this rate, he’ll become the kingdom’s greatest warrior.”
…
“My love…”
…
“What did I do wrong?”
The queen gave no answer. He left the room and went out into the courtyard to reflect. Perhaps on ending his own life. But something stopped him—his son, the kingdom’s last hope. He returned to the palace to rest, hoping clarity would come in the morning.
What he did not realize was that his son had been watching from his bedroom window. Every night, Dark Cacao looked out at the snow—the pristine, gentle snow that always reminded him of love. To others, love was red. To him, it was always white.
His mother could die at any moment, so every night he watered the white lilies he kept in his chamber—the flowers that would never grow in his kingdom.
Snow, lilies, love—those were all he cherished.
The king continued his visits to the queen until, one day, a stench of rot filled the chamber. He turned his wife over and—
“AGHHHHHHHHHHH!”
“FATHER, WHAT’S HAPPENING?!”
Dark Cacao ran as fast as he could into the chamber. There, he found his father kissing the forehead of his mother’s decomposing face, sobbing uncontrollably.
The stench overwhelmed him instantly—mixed with the sweet aroma of lilies.
In that moment, every trace of love within the palace was buried beneath a beautiful blanket of snow.
Dark Cacao Cookie was only eight years old.
— — —
Seven years later, the Cacao Kingdom had barely recovered from those tragedies. His father had become a hollow king, fulfilling only his duties and never allowing anyone into the palace. He did not want anyone to see how he slipped further into madness.
His son, however, was now a formidable warrior—perhaps the strongest soldier in the realm despite his young age. No longer the tender child of before, his once warm expression was replaced with a stern face. He trained day and night, denied himself luxuries, and often went without food.
Only one thing from the past endured: his love for love itself. When he finished training, he would retreat to his chamber, avoiding his father, and write short poems (or at least try to).
Dark Cacao’s POV:
I adored the view from my chamber. I imagined myself outside, touching the snow. Maybe training. What I want most right now is to leave this place. This palace suffocates me more each day. And that old man… ha. Does he really think no one notices how insane he’s become? He’s nothing more than a broken king now.
When I become king, I’ll make sure never to be like him.
One way or another, I will not remain here.
The next morning, I overheard the king speaking with one of his advisors:
—“Your Majesty, please, the people beg you to hunt down those Hound Pastries. Reports say this one wasn’t ordinary.”
—“The soldiers refuse to leave the walls…”
—“They’ve stolen nearly all the yearly supplies from the townsfolk. They will storm the castle if we do nothing.”
Was he truly planning to do nothing? Would he allow the people to burn down the castle with him still inside?
If no one acted, then…
“Father.”
“Dark Cacao Cookie.”
“My prince,” the advisor said, bowing.
“I will go hunt the Hound Pastry.”
“Leave this chamber at once.”
“I will not, father. I won’t let you keep dragging this kingdom to ruin. What happened with mother—”
“BE SILENT!”
“NO! WHAT HAPPENED TO MOTHER WAS YEARS AGO! DON’T THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO SUFFERED—WE ALL DID! THE ENTIRE KINGDOM DID! I…”
…
“Mother wouldn’t have wanted this… This is OUR chance, to show the people that we are still with them, that we still hear them.”
“You will not persuade me so easily.”
“I’ve made my decision. I will go, whether you allow it or not.”
Molten stood there, silent for a moment.
“…Give him the directions,” he said, and left the chamber.
The advisor then explained the path. The Hounds had fled westward. It would not be an easy journey—the land grew warmer in that direction, and the heat could weaken him. But if he wished to save his kingdom, he had no choice.
Dark Cacao packed his bag, fastened his sword, and left—without saying goodbye to his father
—————————
I had to admit, it was very difficult to leave the snowy territory. I was extremely cautious not to stumble into webs or run into a beast. Night caught me off guard, and I had to sleep on the snow. I supposed it wouldn’t be so bad, after all. I lay down on a thin blanket and began to look at the sky.
A green aurora borealis shimmered through the trees. Thousands of stars decorated the heavens. Beneath the palm of my hand, I could feel the snow. I turned my body to hold it with both hands. I tried to keep it from melting, but it was impossible. I tried to cradle it delicately, yet it was never enough. It felt so soft, I never wanted to stop touching it, but it melted the instant it came in contact with me. Resigned, I lay back to rest, wondering how I could hold onto it for longer.
My journey continued. Sometimes I found traces of the sugar hounds—sometimes even bread from the supplies they had stolen. I was seventy percent sure someone had sent them. If not, they would have devoured all the food on the spot. When I found at least one, I wouldn’t kill it immediately. Instead, I would follow it to its den and see what was inside.
I was lost in thought when suddenly I heard the sounds of battle.
There were two Cookies—women. One with pink hair and a shield, the other much smaller, with a golden spear. She had wings. I had never seen a Cookie with wings before.
—“AGH, THEY’VE CORNERED US!”
—“WAIT, I’M COMING!”
Suddenly, a flash of lightning streaked across my sight, and the sugar hounds were torn apart on the grass, still dusted with snow.
—“Phew, that was close. Where were you?! I almost got crumbed here!”
—“Well… I saw something shiny and thought it was valuable, but it turned out to be just a coin. I’ll keep it anyway. Hehehe.”
This wasn’t my business. I was about to leave when—
*crack*
—“WHO GOES THERE?!”
Oh no.
—“Identify yourself, or you’ll suffer the wrath of the Golden Sovereign!”
—“WAIT! I mean no harm.”
—“Who are you?” asked the one with the shield.
—“My name is Dark Cacao Cookie, from the Kingdom of Dark Cacao. I’m searching for the sugar hounds that stole supplies from our people.”
—“Uhmm, okay. Hello, Dark Cacao Cookie of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. I am Golden Cheese Cookie—the greediest Cookie in all Earthbread and the future Golden Sovereign!”
—“Greetings.”
—“I am Hollyberry Cookie, from the southeast, near the tropics. I, too, am hunting sugar hounds. They attacked my village.”
—“They stole from you?”
—“Supplies, just like you.”
—“They stole some of my gold coins! Someone must have sent them.”
—“I agree,” I said. “It’s strange for sugar hounds to steal things like this… someone is behind it.”
—“We saw them, but they vanished just when we thought we had them,” said the smaller one.
—“That makes us comrades, then!”
—“Huh?” I was confused—we had just met.
—“We share the same goal. That makes us allies for a good cause!”
—“Hollyberry’s right,” said the other. “Besides, you look strong. If monsters ambush us, you’ll be useful.”
—“We also know the direction the sugar hounds fled. We’ll be a great help. What do you say?”
I thought about it. I had only just met them, but something about them gave me a strange sense of trust. The deal seemed fair.
—“Very well.”
We began walking in the direction the sugar hounds had gone. Hollyberry and Golden Cheese chattered about anything and everything, while I stayed silent at the back, alert for any danger lurking.
Night fell, and we had to camp. It wasn’t so cold anymore, and we lit a fire without trouble. Hollyberry told scary stories from her village (a little frightening), while Golden Cheese bragged about her trinkets and how shiny they were.
—“You’re really quiet, kid!”
—“Eh?”
—“You need to talk more! Relax, we’re not going to drain your strawberry jam in your sleep,” Hollyberry laughed.
—“I don’t have much to say.”
—“Boooring,” her friend chimed in.
I went to sleep early, hoping to wake with the sunrise to rouse them and leave early. I felt a little sad that I couldn’t touch the snow as before. My thoughts lingered on my father. Perhaps some advisor had tricked him and overthrown him. Perhaps he had died. Or perhaps he was simply trapped in his same old routine.
It seemed I had stayed up too late thinking, because the next morning Hollyberry shook me awake.
—“Up you get, sleepyhead! We’ve got walking to do!”
We set off through a warm forest, talking about what we would do if we found the culprit—if there even was one—when a horde of sugar hounds came charging.
—“LOOK OUT!”
—“Ugh!”
They wounded me in the back and arm. I felt my clothes soaking with jam from the bleeding. It took every ounce of strength not to collapse from the pain. The others weren’t faring much better. Hollyberry had fallen into a pond while trying to keep space between her and the hounds, and Golden Cheese was swarmed by a large number of them.
Then, suddenly, the pain in my wounds lessened. Energy surged through me. I saw the same happen to the others, as they began fighting back with renewed strength. From a distance, I spotted another Cookie. Small, with dark dough, light hair, and eyes of different colors. When we finished off the last hound, the others saw him too.
—“Did you do this?” I asked.
—“Yes, they are part of my healing powers.”
—“Healing powers?!” Golden Cheese exclaimed, excited.
—“Ahh, forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Pure Vanilla Cookie.”
—“Hello, Pure Vanilla Cookie,” said Hollyberry, still holding her shield. “I’m Hollyberry. That’s Dark Cacao—he’s a little grumpy—and she’s Golden Cheese.”
—“A pleasure,” he said with a sincere smile. “She is—… Oh.”
—“What is it?”
—“I was here with my friend, but she’s gone. She’s very curious. One moment… White Lily Cookie!” he called.
That scent…
—“I’m sorry, Pure Vanilla.”
Then I saw her.
A new Cookie. Small, not as small as Golden Cheese, but frail. Pale, so pale. She looked delicate. Her hair was long and white as snow. Her eyes—fuchsia, luminous. She wore a green dress and a white lily in her hair. She carried a staff by her side.
—“Where were you? You worried me. Don’t wander off again. I found some Cookies in trouble. What do you think?”
She looked at us—she looked at me. I swear it wasn’t my imagination. Her gaze lingered on me a fraction of a second longer than on the others.
—“I think it’s fine.”
Pretty, pretty.