The sound of the old and broken grandfather clock was welcoming among the wreckage. Not much was left in the castle except for things he seemed to have an attachment to, like his old bedroom, witch remained untouched in his own rampage and in his father's mad dash to evacuate.
The wallpaper was old and peeling, the old furniture previously precariously polished, now peeling and decrepit with a layer of dust. Frost covered the window, sealing the misery into this place.
With a sigh, Choco walked into the room fully.
The clock outside chimed midnight. The halls were enveloped in darkness, not a sound beside the wind outside. The walls creek from the force.
He sat at his desk, candles burning with vigour. Maps and old text lie scattered about his desk, the parchment and paper curled and discoloured from age. They tell of a sword, a sword of legendary power. It can single-handedly end any battle, kill any foe, and will bring bloody glory to all who weild it.
He needed it.
His people need an unstoppable ruler, to become stronger then his father. He needs his people to look up to him, his father to look up to him. They can expand and make treaties, make themselves the best kingdom since the great Vanilla kingdom of old.
So, he remains awake, the flicker of candlight guiding him. Soon he will set out, after he retakes his exams.
The old papers remained in the wreckage, some on the floor. Choco stood before them, proof of their lies. Nobody warned him, nobody dared.
It hurt more then what he did after. The jam he spilled, on his own grounds, was unforgivable. But yet... was it meant to be? Would he bring the downfall of his people no matter what? Or was it simply just a goal of his puppeteer?
It hurt to be so useless.
YOU ARE READING
Cookies of darkness: oneshots
Fanfiction**Cover art is mine** A mixed bowl of all my head cannons and angst that has nowhere to go. In the future, there may be warnings in some chapters. Requests are very very welcome. #65 in CRY as of December 6 #35 in CAKE as of December 6
