TW: child murder. This fic is cross-posted from Ao3
If you are here for Pure Vanilla, just hang in there for two chapters. He is the main character of the story.
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Once upon a time, the world had burned down. Opposing forces faced each other, a divide between them that could not be fixed. Five cookies stood at the edge of a broken hall, small pieces of the formerly grand building crumbling around them. The wrecked remains of the Vanilla castle rained down upon the land below the clouds, crushing the cities in its path and leaving a trail of decimation as the winds blew. The group halted at the broken edge, where the castle opened to thin air, able to go no farther.
The Dark Enchantress hovered in front of them, her large form dwarfed by a cake summons. The creature dripped frosting, red and white trails falling from its body. Faint shiny innards could be seen among the twisting velvet. The abomination, with its multiple red wings, malformed face, and numerous serrated teeth could have terrified any sensible person, but the group before it remained determined.
If they failed to stop the Dark Enchantress's reign, then nowhere would be safe. Their kingdoms' lands would be torched to the crust and their citizens torn to pieces.
The cake summon swung one arm at the figures below. The creature smelling of berries stopped it with a shield, feet skidding across the floors from the force. The dark one swung, his bitter yet invigorating power slicing through the limb. Another arm burst forth from the melting body and stitched itself together as flames launched from the candelabrum upon its head, burning the cookies below. White light covered them, healing from the sweet one, and they attacked once again. A savory figure flitted around its head, striking the candles off with complete precision.
It paid no heed to the mage situated at the very back of the group. The lily flowers upon its head smelled like nothing at all.
Slowly, the summon began to be overwhelmed by the combined forces of these small creatures. A shield rammed into it with powerful blunt force. Large slices bleeding bitter poison flowed from its body. Golden arrows pierced from above. Two flower-bearing scepters crossed, boosting the whole group. The cookies in the back supported the front fighters, healing fatal wounds and strengthening their attacks over and over again. The separate attacks piled up, the damage sustained eventually becoming too great for the rotted magic weaving its body together. The cake abomination collapsed with a great wail, cracks appearing along its form.
As the summon shattered entirely, it saw its mistress, stabbed through the chest, the bottom end of a sunflower sliding smoothly straight through her body and then out the other side. From the eye of the sunflower, a brilliant white, the darkness.
The minion was no more.
Rewind.
Let's start from the beginning. Remembering is easier when you think in linear fashion.
In the beginning, there were the witches.
They had fashioned cookiekind out of dough and flour, water and all varieties of flavorful spices. Each cookie was given their special ingredients, both physical and metaphorical, specially constructed in the oven of their beloved creators. None were the same as another. The cookies took their uniqueness as proof that they had a purpose in the world, a guiding light. Everyone deserved a place in Earthbred, or so the mantra of the weak and helpless proclaimed.
Cookies were blessed with life. They found themselves there, simply existing one day out of nothing, no memory besides a faint warmth of fire in their bodies and a personality composed of the elements they had been crafted with. Eventually, that flavor will develop and mature, affected by their environments. They gain depth and complexity in their dough, but they will never forget that soft warmth of new creation. They treasure their lives, so they also love those who created them.
YOU ARE READING
Lily Flower
Hayran KurguSeeking the fleeting shadows of his old friend, Pure Vanilla joins the cookies of darkness. Unknown to him, they are a group of ragtag outcasts and damaged people, held together by mirrors and faded strings. His presence just happened to be the tipp...