Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“The sea is restless as of late.” The comment rings clear against grey skies and dark stone walls. Accusation hangs on every word, dripping with a silent question: ‘is this your doing?’ Sharp eyes narrow at the old woman beside him. Her long, pitch black hair was braided in thin strands most of which were pulled up in a bun and pinned in place with an obsidian hairpin shaped vaguely like a dragon. 

She stood tall in a full length grey cloak shielding most of her frail form from the cold winds battering the pair. Thick boots peeked out from under her black chima, the blue bordering its central panel highlighting the eye shape at the bottom. The jeogori was the same color as her skirt, though trimmed in a vibrant, electric blue with embroidered spots like the eyes of the creatures in the sea. Her sash and jangsam however were a clear purple, a silent show of allegiance to him and his own. This was the stalwart leader of the Licorice Tribe, the tribal elder Black Licorice who'd long been an ally to him.

Black Licorice eyes her king warily. His rising paranoia after the Dark Flour War drove many wedges between the countless northern tribes. But she was not one to let such things interfere with her duty. Her Licorice Tribe and his Cacao Tribe had long since been allied, trading safety for safety even before he'd founded the Dark Cacao kingdom. The rolling seas below humored her people's whims, accepting the presence of those they considered friends. The other tribes and clans bent to King Dark Cacao and the other warriors before him, forced to swallow their disdain for her black magic tribe and their ties to the sea lest they face the wrath of the infamous Cacao warriors.

Those deep, amethyst eyes bore into her questioningly now. Questioning her loyalty no doubt. It irked her of course, but he had much more to think of than just a single tribe. His burden was far greater than her own. So she swallowed her complaints and twirled a thin, loose braid around her long, clawed finger. “Mind it not. The abyss is simply throwing a tantrum because my charge has left.” Her dull blue eyes locked onto the water below.

The king’s expression did not falter, finding her words unsatisfactory. Black Licorice could only sigh as she elaborated for the sake of their shared safety. “He's gone to study magic of the other kingdoms. Quite the scholar, that one. He'd rather stay inside and read all day than play with the other kids. I practically have to twist his arms to get him to drop his books and do his chores.” The pride in her tone carried along the wind as her voice raised to a stern shout. She was no longer speaking to just her king.

Below them the sea shifted, its water rising for just a moment before falling still with a splash. Far too still, as if the sea itself had ground to a screeching halt. Waves stopped crashing, bringing an eerie silence barely muffled by the sea winds blowing in. Electric blue slits struck through the inky waters, growing wider. Bigger than any of the carts used for transport around the kingdom. The eyes don't breach the surface, but they've focused on the duo up on the path overlooking the sea. Rumbling shakes the sturdy walls in a displeased growl, the very floor vibrating with its power. Dark Cacao sets his hand on the hilt of his blade, but Black Licorice waves a dismissive hand at him. 

Tucking her arms into her sleeves, she steps forward and bows her head towards the sea. The rumbling dies, so she lifts her head and continues. “He will be back to visit during breaks at the academy. If it pleases you, your humble servant will request he send letters to you.” The walls rumble again, far more gentle this time. A purr rather than a growl and a sign of affirmation. “So it shall be done.”

The eyes slip shut once more, merging into the abyssal sea. Dark Cacao does not relax his grip on his blade as he stares out at the last place the eyes were. She sets her frail, wrinkled hand on his forearm, a gesture of reassurance. “You are right to fear the abyss, my king. It is deep and dark, a fathomless entity even to its children. But it is not inherently cruel. Not willing to attack unprovoked.”

Slowly, his grip relaxes and his shoulders sag. “... I've no idea what your people see in such a dark entity.” His deep voice rings out, eyes fixed on the bleak horizon. The wind whips his long, black hair wildly, the white strands blending with the gentle snow just starting to fall.

“The night is also dark and dangerous, yet many find beauty in it. We are much the same towards the sea. Now, I must return home. I have a letter to send.” Black Licorice replies simply, turning and repeating her earlier bow towards the king. Seawater sloshes over the side, soaking only Black Licorice's shoes.

“You may stand,” Came the stern order. Those purple eyes fixated on her once again, dark hair obscuring his face. There's a pause as she waits to be dismissed, and Dark Cacao takes the moment to add, “I do hope you will remain one of my most loyal subjects, Black Licorice. Without your people, mine may long have been swallowed by the sea.”

“Of course my king. And while I truly understand your desire to protect your people from a potential threat, I must do the same. I do hope you reopen the gates soon.” Her tone dips low, a hint of unease creeping into it. The waves crash against the docks along the base of the great wall, black water sloshing onto the stone overlook and wrapping momentarily around Black Licorice's feet in a mockery of comfort. Her gaze follows it as she adds, “At the very least, please resume the patrols or speak to the other clan heads. Other tribes have been encroaching into our lands lately. We believe they're just hunting, but it has been unsettling some of us.”

Dark Cacao is silent for a moment, swallowing his unease at the sea’s reaction to her words. “I’ve not heard of this before. Why have you waited so long to tell me?”

“I sent you many reports, I assure you. I do so every time we catch someone trespassing. Have you not been receiving them?” She asks, her gaze suddenly hardening. There's a gleam of uncertainty, of caution, of distrust. Her muscles tense and she glances back to the sea. The water ripples away from the shore, going in the opposite direction it should.

“...I will check my study and question the watchers. I do not believe they would interfere in kingdom affairs.” He states, though he loathed to think any of them would intercept letters from their long time allies. Yet he cannot deny that many held prejudice against the Licorice tribe. Stories of beasts lurking in the sea have been around for longer than the Ancient warrior himself. He'd seen the creatures on occasion, the way they would wait beneath the surface for a curious person to approach the water only to drag their victims under. To see such monsters part and form paths for mere people, not even of noble blood or particularly powerful lineage… it was confusing as it was useful.

The relief settling over Black Licorice made her whole body droop. She must have been tense for a while, awaiting his responses but getting nothing in return. Even the sea seemed to settle, the waves backing down and rolling gently into the docks. “We appreciate your hard work, my king. Truly. Perhaps I am merely being paranoid myself, but I am far too aware of the opinions others hold of my people. There are many who wish to see us gone.”

“You have my word, Elder Black Licorice. I will see to it that this matter is resolved.” He swore. She bowed to him once more before excusing herself and walking along the dock. The waves followed on her heels against the current, so subtle even his well trained eyes barely caught the shift. It was still early enough that she would easily be able to make it home by dark. Once the woman vanished from sight, Dark Cacao spun on his heels and returned to the Citadel. He wouldn't fail his people, and if someone was playing games like this, he would put an end to it to protect his people.

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Tensions rose over the years, with no sign of treachery ever found against the people of the abyss. Black Licorice insisted she had sent letters, reports, even her own precious people to his gates. Even in recent days. It was a hard decision then, to set aside her concerns. The sea grew more unruly with every visit his Watchers turned away. Responding to its people's frustrations perhaps. 

“Though I loathe to say it, my king. Perhaps we should consider it a threat.” The voice of his advisor drew his attention, highlighting the one thing everyone present feared most. The man's brown and white hair swayed in the breeze as he peered out the window of the study towards the black abyss.

“The Licorice Tribe? I'd prefer to not disturb our peace where possible.” Dark Cacao replied simply, sorting through paperwork with a bored expression. “Have you recalled the watchers, Affogato?”

Bowing his head, Affogato confirms it. “I have, my king. We can soon begin reinforcing the wall. With our forces focused on it, surely we will finish quickly.” The advisor smiles, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as he shifts closer to the cold king.

Admittedly, he does feel a hint of guilt for shutting out the small tribe. They were known to be quite frail in general. Scrawny and delicate things with limbs so thin they looked as if they might snap any second. Their claws and fangs were unsettling, moreso when coupled with their willowy forms. But it was simple intimidation and nothing more, they were fishers, foragers, and magicians. Not warriors.

“Hm… And has Black Licorice or her tribe come to send reports?” The image of that woman standing outside, seawater coiling around her feet as she bangs her frail fists on the gate pops into his mind. He understands her fears, her concerns, but she has the entire sea to aid her if need be. Though he does feel a twinge of guilt gnawing at him, he had hoped she would understand that he had to prepare for the safety of the entire kingdom. Dark Enchantress was never found after their confrontation and rumors of a cult following her footsteps was enough reason to be more than prepared. Should another Dark Flour War spark, the other tribes would be the least of Black Licorice's worries.

“None, my king. It seems we were right to assume she was only exaggerating her situation.” The advisor assures, waving a hand dismissively. He continued, “It's best to focus on our own for now. With the added reinforcements, we can easily bring her tribe into the Citadel for protection. As of now, the walls are priority. However, those Licorice people are stubborn. She may occasionally come to demand your audience. Should I-?”

“No, unless it is urgent keep turning her away. One can only listen to the same nonsense so many times. If they were truly in danger, they would fire a flare and we would be able to respond.” Dark Cacao reasons simply.

Nodding, Affogato hums. “A wise choice sire. Especially with the young prince’s tendency to wander.” He watches Dark Cacao glance out the window to the courtyard below. A group of Watcher recruits stood huddled below. One figure among them stood out, dressed in white rather than the traditional brown of the Watcher's uniform. The advisor waited for a moment before adding, “Though she'll surely come pounding on our gates with the patrols halted outside.”

“Do not allow entry without my permission. They will be fine while we focus on repairs and reinforcement.” To himself, he assures that they will be fine. The Watchers sent to investigate her claims of trespassers confirmed what she herself suggested, that they were merely hunting. And even if they were attacked and unable to fight, they could simply run to their precious Licorice Sea for its promised safety.  

As much as it pained him to do so, he had to let them be. The Black Citadel needed every available hand to prepare for the possible return of Dark Enchantress. They had to be ready to stand against her, or any other force that might seek to destroy their kingdom. It was the right decision, he assured himself as he peered out the window to watch the warriors train. The right decision to protect his country as its king… And to protect his son as his father.

Chapter Text

Snow crunched under every frustrated stomp of thick leather boots. Woven straw on the soles, courtesy of his companion, made it much easier to traverse the powdery drifts. His wandering was aimless today, no particular plan in mind as he walked the familiar path towards the Milk village. It was really the only place left to go unless he planned to barge into one of the other empty villages.

“My prince, please wait for me.” The watcher on his heels calls. Her long, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail whipped behind her as she jogged to catch up. 

Even through his annoyance, his temper calmed just a bit. His steps slowed to a halt and a small smile graced his lips as he let the woman finally catch up to him. “My apologies, Caramel Arrow… I was lost in thought. And please, while we're out here you shouldn't call me your prince.” Once Caramel Arrow finally caught up, he started walking again.

She nods her head slowly, eyeing Prince Dark Choco's chosen Watcher ‘disguise’. Anyone who had seen him or the king before would see through it immediately. But she doubted he realized that and she didn't want to be the one to ruin it for him. 

They both wore the same dark baji tucked into their leather boots. His cream jeogori was much shorter than hers, stopping mid-calf compared to her full-length, split chocolate and alabaster colored one. Rather than his usual armor, he wore a matching dapho vest to her own, just in a deeper shade of chocolate brown. The long, black hair streaked with white is pulled back loosely into a low ponytail, save for the stray piece at the front that he could never seem to tame. An espresso brown headband covers his forehead, doing little to keep the stray strands out of his carmine eyes.

“It may be presumptuous of me, but I take it you had another argument with the king?” She asks carefully, watching his expression tighten. It's all the confirmation she needs to know she was right. They'd had many sleepless nights talking at length about his frustration with his father. If he wasn't seeking her out during her shifts, she was the one to find him late at night in his room.

“... I just wish he would see reason. His paranoia has only gotten worse since the Licorice Sea attempted to lay siege to the Citadel. But since then, it's been relatively calm.” There's a pause as he thinks, adding, “Save for the few monsters that crawl out of course. I understand he fears our allies have turned on us, but there must be a way to fix the damage. If he would open the gates again, perhaps we could find the Licorice tribe and renew our old treaty.”

Nodding, Caramel Arrow agreed. She too was worried about the state of their kingdom since the Licorice Tribe withdrew their control on the sea. The sea beasts were slowly becoming a common occurrence, and on more than one occasion she had shot them off the docks from the wall as they tried to drag soldiers into the inky depths. “Yes, but last we checked, the village had been abandoned.”

Both of them recalled the day they'd seen the village abandoned. After hearing the king rage at the perceived betrayal, swiftly making plans and enacting defensive measures, Dark Choco had been caught sneaking out by the Watcher in training. She'd followed him as he took advantage of the chaos to slip through a small side entrance. The village they found lay in ruins, few homes left standing and the usually bustling streets filled with a fresh layer of snow. They'd even had to scramble over the debris blocking the road in. Their investigation was cut short as the Second Watcher caught up to them, dragging them back to the Citadel. But the message was loud and clear. There was no Licorice tribe in their Dark Cacao kingdom anymore. Wherever they'd gone, the fact remained that they had abandoned their treaty.

Still, Dark Choco's steps faltered as they approached that very same road. It was still blocked, just as it had been back then. The once tall and imposing gate made of wood and carved bone and purple rope that served as a landmark had long since collapse, it's debris still shielding the village's remains. They often passed it, paying little attention. This time though, he couldn't help but notice the faint pair of footprints coming from, or going to, the gate. 

He stops, staring at the footprints as he halts Caramel Arrow with one hand and points to the tracks with the other. Her eyes widen briefly, exchanging the same questioning glance before they both nod in agreement. “What are the odds?” Dark Choco muses, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. They change course immediately, standing at the base of the rubble pile in their way. 

“Still quite low, I'm afraid. It could easily be anyone’s tracks, not necessarily a returning tribe member.” Caramel Arrow points out, though the curiosity tainting her tone shines through.

Dark Choco deflates a bit at her words, shoulders slumping as he shakes his head. “I'm aware, though I would like to think we may just get lucky,” he admits. The tribe wasn't likely to return, at least not without a good reason. He was painfully aware of that fact.

He reaches up to haul himself over the massive swirled licorice spiral buried among wood and bone. Once he reaches the top, he surveys the path ahead. No one, as expected. The tracks clearly lead toward the village though, rather than diverging into the woods. He chooses to take this as a good sign, turning to his companion below with a curt wave. A sign that the path was clear.

She starts to climb as he slides down, landing with a soft ‘thud’ on the ground. In a moment Caramel Arrow drops beside him, brushing off the snow clinging to her uniform as they start down the path. It's overgrown and covered in a thick layer of snow, just as she remembered from the last time. But there's a worn path through the middle. It's been trodden down into a packed trail from frequent use and not yet snowed over with the thick canopy above covering it.

Filing the information away, she asks, “Hypothetically speaking… if we were to find someone from the tribe, how did you plan to ask for their help? They likely won't want to listen to you if they're still angry at us for shutting the gates on them.” A glance at Dark Choco tells her he's noticed how used the path is.

There's a pause, a moment where Dark Choco freezes and it's clear he hasn't thought that far ahead. His face drops, head tilted slightly down with furrowed brows and lips pressed into a thin line. The quiet stretches on, only the faintest rustle of wind through the tree branches breaking it. 

Finally, he lifts his head, “I… suppose an apology is in order. After all, we withdrew from the agreement first by recalling our warriors. They were well within their rights to abandon us the moment father made that call, but they still took a few years to give up on us.” He nods to himself as he speaks. There's a thousand ways to approach this delicate subject, his mind racing to outline the best possible way it could work. “We could also offer something valuable in return. Or a higher position in state politics.”

“And what if they still reject you?” Caramel Arrow asks. She doesn't mean to ruin his excitement. If anything, she wishes she could be just as excited as he was. But that pragmatic part of her knew Dark Choco could be a bit naive at times. A bit too optimistic about the outcomes of his ideas or plans.

“We could open negotiations, I suppose. As long as it doesn't place us at a major disadvantage, I'm sure we can work out a new treaty. Father would never allow it otherwise, so it will depend on what they want in return. The primary goal would be getting them open to talking with us again.” He responds after a moment.

Caramel Arrow nods. It's so simple it makes sense. Just make amends and get them open to the idea of negotiating. Though they both know that doesn't necessarily mean it will be easy. Their first step would be finding someone to even speak with, let alone attempt an apology or negotiation. 

Their talk ends abruptly, neither feeling the need to speak more on the topic. Instead, they observe the area. Aside from the obvious path, there weren't any other signs of activity. Just the tracks. Though now that she thinks about it… it's far too quiet. No rustling of small animals in the underbrush. No calls of Cacao hawks or calls of smaller birds. Even the wind halted as if it dared not pass the ruined gate, leaving the woods devoid of creaking boughs. 

It sends a chill up her spine. The cold drops fast from there. The usual bite of Cacaoian winter sharpens, digging deeper under her layers of clothes to prick at her skin like needles. Beside her, Dark Choco shivers just as she does. 

“...Is it me, or has it gotten a lot colder?” He asks, a slight quiver to his voice as he adjusts to the sudden change. Even with the sea beside their home, wind blowing its frigid air inland, it had never been this cold. 

“It has. Was it like this the last time we came here?” Caramel Arrow responds, receiving a shrug. Their previous venture hadn't yielded the same results. It had been no colder than it should have been. Now, a strange static crackles in the air, crawling up her arms with every step. The strange chill seeps into her bones.

Dark Choco must feel it too, as he draws the short sword on his hip. It's plain and simple, almost indistinguishable from a training sword save for the red ribbon wrapped around its grip. A far cry from the greatsword he normally carried, but fitting for his disguise. She draws her own weapons, the twin blades heavier in her hands than they should be as they're snapped together into a bow.

Rustling sounds overhead, their heads snapping up at the same time to spot the small shadow darting through the birch boughs. Caramel Arrow lifts her bow, nocks an arrow, and waits with bated breath. Dark Choco shifts closer to her, making his stand at her back. The shadow swoops low and she lets an arrow fly. It strikes the branch above the shadow, snapping it with a sickening crack.

It lets out a yowl, the branch dropping onto it and knocking it to the ground. Dark Choco’s gaze sweeps the area behind them once more before he turns back to the path ahead. The shade wriggles out from beneath the branch. Its slender body arched, glossy black fur raised in warning as its skull head opens in a hiss. The wings on its back flair outward as it rears up, blowing snow across the ground with every agitated flap. The white ears on its head pinned back as it set its front paw… bones? On the snowy ground.

Slowly, Dark Choco lowered his sword. His grip stayed firm, muscles tense in case it opted to attack. But the creature was already backing away with a threatening growl. It's white pinprick eyes darted to Caramel Arrow, who had nocked another arrow and kept it trained on the animal. Then it bolted, turning around and leaping into the air with a flap of its bat wings. 

Lowering her bow, Caramel Arrow sighed. “I'm not sure what that was, but it seems to be gone now.” She isn't exactly relaxed, but the small, unfamiliar creature didn't seem to be a threat.

“Right, we should keep going then.” Dark Choco insists, taking the lead as he moves the fallen branch out of their path. He keeps his sword in hand, now alert for any more of the strange animals. His companion falls into step behind him, bow tight in her hands.

Soon after the encounter they find the village, sticking to the middle of the small wooden bridge spanning the creek just before it. It's rickety and worn, with holes in the floor and missing railings. Dark Choco peers through a hole in the wood, down into the creek below. A pair of bright blue spots stare back from a darker patch in the murky waters. He shivers, recognizing the creature as one from the Sea. It makes no move to reach out to them as they pass. Only watches. A shiver runs down his spine as Caramel Arrow murmurs a quiet, “Creepy…” 

The village isn't faring any better. The wooden tile roofs bow under the weight of the snow. Some have already collapsed in on themselves. Doors and window panes creak as the breeze blows them about. Shattered ceramics lay scattered about the street. Outside every house is a round but shallow tub of water, sometimes multiple. Most are frozen over but the few that aren't house one of the Licorice Sea beasts. They move in circles at the bottom, keeping the water flowing so it doesn't ice over. Yet as the pair passes, the creatures pause to watch.

“Keep your eyes on the sky… if dusk falls before we leave, we may need to fight our way out of here.” Dark Choco whispers, meeting the gaze of one beast. The water bubbles around the blue circles forming a crude mouth, floating to the top. He shifts further away from the creature until he bumps into the watcher beside him. “Best to leave before then.”

“I plan to.” She states, tearing her gaze from the beasts to the ground. 

Snow barely dusted the rough cobblestone streets, tracks cutting straight through the middle of town. They were much clearer here, one set clearly an adult's with a smaller set beside them. There was still just enough snow to make it difficult to see if they were coming into or leaving, but they cut a clear enough path that they wouldn't need to search every home.

The trail leads them through the empty town market, past old stalls frozen in time and deeper into the heart of the village. It comes to an abrupt end at a still standing building, far larger than the other shacks or huts. Like a few of the other buildings, this one was like the traditional hanok his own tribe used. Though there were small, rounded outbuildings visible around the sides. Still, it was far smaller than the ones he was used to. The sloped roofs were tiled with black stone tiles resembling black licorice in color. The pillars lining the outer maru stretched between the kitchen, common space, and gateway into the yard were wood, but painted to match the dark tiles and carved with the likeness of the Living Abyss.

Dark Choco recognizes it from a distant memory, a brief visit as his child self was brought to meet the village heads. This had been the home of the tribe's elder. He remembers the old woman with fangs and claws and eerie glowing blue eyes standing on the maru in front of the gate. He hid in his father's cloak, staring at her and being chastised for his rudeness. 

Black Licorice had laughed at his shyness as his father ushered him out, her words forgotten as she spoke with a casual yet respectful tone. How old was he then? Five? Six? He had made some comment wondering why she was able to speak like that. It was the first time he remembered learning about their treaty. Why were they there again? It had been a very long time, but he thought it was about an important celebration with all the colorful streamers and music.

“My- er, are you alright?” Caramel Arrow interrupts his reminiscing, barely catching herself before she called him ‘Prince’ again.

He nods, “Just reminiscing. I was here once when I was very young. The elder used to scare me with her claws and fangs, you know? But she was kind.” He eyes the much larger bins outside the hanok big enough to be small ponds, sloshing water echoing in the deafening silence. Black Licorice had invited him to look at the creatures inside during that visit. He could still remember her gentle tone as she dipped her hand in the freezing water to pet the things, asking if he'd like to try.

“I see,” Caramel Arrow sets a comforting hand on his shoulder, shifting closer to him in an attempt to convey her support. “Surely you two will meet again once we find out where they went.” 

He nods in response, continuing on as he approaches the door to the kitchen. “She had a child she was caring for, if I recall. I wish we could have met properly before father shut the gates… I only caught glimpses of him during that visit.” If Black Licorice was a blurry memory, her son was just a shadow of that. Barely there, hiding around corners and watching, never allowing himself to be seen properly. She said he was shy. That he didn't often see outsiders. Now that he's so much older, Dark Choco wonders if the boy was as frightened of his father as his younger self was of the elder.

“Then let us hope you will have the chance to speak with him once you succeed.” She hopes she sounds comforting and not mocking. 

Though Caramel Arrow wanted to be practical, the sad, wistful smile on her prince's face made something twist in her chest. He looked like a kicked cream wolf pup, his shoulders sagging and eyes dropping to the ground. Her soft heart wouldn't let her say anything to ruin the prince's already somber mood. After all, had they been able to keep the gates open and maintain a relationship with the seafaring tribe then the two would likely have been close. Dark Choco had every right to mourn what could have been. What he never got the chance to have. 

Dark Choco lifts his eyes to meet hers, offering a sad smile. He was still optimistic. It shone in his red eyes and the observant scan of his surroundings. Looking for anything to aid him in his self imposed quest. He knocked first before he tried the door, only to find it jammed. “Ah… let's try the other side then. I'd rather not force my way into someone's house.”

“It would make for an interesting start to those negotiations.” 

“Pfft… ahem…” Dark Choco chokes on his laughter, hand coming up to cover his fake cough as he pushes on the door to the common space. It creaks open with little pressure and he can only assume it's broken. “Yes, yes. I'll add it to the list of apologies and reparations.”

“Does this not count as forcing our way in?” Caramel Arrow asks, her tone lighter as she sees her prince finally smile again. 

He chuckles, crossing the threshold as he comments, “I didn't force it open, did I?” He looks around, grip tightening on his sword as Caramel Arrow closes the door behind them. Both freeze as they step into the room, a soft static settling over them.

There's two pairs of boots by the door, set neatly on a woven mat. One is much bigger than the other. All scuffed up and stained dark brown leather lined with yellowed fur inside. The smaller pair clearly belongs to a young child, the brown much lighter in shade and the fur clean and white. A bit worn but not as old and used as the bigger pair. Dark Choco brightens a bit more at the sight.

There's no lights, no candles lit up and none of the mage lights floating in the air like his only visit. He runs a hand over the dusty table top, its wooden surface oddly smooth. The grainy texture of dust doesn't hit him, but he can see it clearly on his fingertips. Wiping it away, he turns to see Caramel Arrow across the room. Her head pokes around the doorway into the narrow hall. 

They make their way into it. Old wooden floor boards creak under their weight as they peer into each room. Every step they take makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Unseen eyes drilling into their backs from somewhere. Their footsteps sound just slightly off at times, as if a third person were trailing a bit behind them before falling back into step. Yet there was never anyone when they turned around to check. 

There's not much, three small, dusty bedrooms, two decorated and one barren. A single bathroom. A storage room still full of sealed ceramic jars, crates, and a few bolts of fabric. And the kitchen. Just as empty as the rest of the house. A smoky scent wafts out from it despite the layer of dust coating every surface and the dark, unused coals in the stove. Dried herbs hang in bundles strung in the rafters. A bitter scent hangs in the air, like the herbal remedies used by the Citadel pharmacists and medics. 

“... Looks like no one's home. I suspect they have been gone for a long time. I'm sorry.” Caramel Arrow comments, walking towards the kitchen entrance leading outside. Her gaze sweeps across the counter lazily as she passes. The cutting board on top is still moist, covered in damp, thin sliced mushrooms. The knife is farther away, like someone had thrown it back onto the board and missed. It gives her pause, but she tears her eyes away and glances out the window. The sun is lower than she expected.

Dark Choco notices too, putting an arm around her shoulder and steering her towards the door. His tone is slightly louder than usual as he does so, something anyone else would likely miss. It projects his voice in the empty room. “You're right, if we don't leave soon, then we'll have to fight our way past those creatures around town. Let's go see if we can get out this way.”

Caramel Arrow wonders if there's a purpose to this, and soon receives her answer. The kitchen door was never jammed. It was locked and bolted from the inside. Dark Choco quickly unlocks it, holding it open for her. She doesn't argue. Just walks through and waits for the prince to follow. Neither of them speak as they pass through town. 

The winged black creature from earlier lounges on the bridge's railing. Its ears pin back, eyes following them with a low growl. But they ignore it, paying just enough attention to be sure it wouldn't attack. Only when it's far out of sight does Dark Choco speak again.

“We both agree, right?”

Caramel Arrow tilts her head towards the village as she responds, “That someone is living in the Licorice Tribe again or that they were watching us the whole time?” That static feeling could have been brushed off as nerves at first, but every strange little thing in the house made it clear that someone else was there.

“So we know they're a mage of some kind. And capable of illusory magic. They must have cast a spell to make the house look untouched.” Dark Choco mused, thinking back on everything they'd seen. Dusty surfaces without the physical sensation of it. Footsteps but no visible person. The locked door, the warmth of the kitchen, the smell of smoke. And most damning of all, the forgotten food prep left undisguised. Their arrival must have spooked the resident, leaving just enough time to lock one door but not enough to race across the inside to lock the other.

Caramel Arrow nods in agreement, snapping her bow apart and sheathing the bladed halves. Dark Choco quickly sheaths his own weapon, and she adds, “While we haven't confirmed who is living there, odds are favorable that you were right. No other tribes would dare risk living there and any outsiders seeking refuge likely wouldn't stay there after seeing the beasts lurking around town.” 

“We should confirm who lives there first.” Dark Choco replies. Though he knows Caramel Arrow is right he wants to confirm it with his own eyes. The tribe was well known for their unusual appearance, if they could just meet the resident, he's sure he'd know. His companion nods then, not offering a response and letting their walk fall into a comfortable and lighter silence. 

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“MEOWSTER!!” Scratching at the door sounded far away as he stumbled to open it. The crackling of magic died off as Licorice opened it with shaky hands. The little bat winged cat fell forward onto its belly, glaring up at him as if he'd committed a horrific crime. 

“Bat-Cat! Did… did they leave?” He asked in a low tone, flinching at his own stutter. Even though the Watchers had left his house he stayed close to the other side of the kitchen and away from the window. The bleached bone scythe stayed firmly in his hands. His mind raced as it kept time with his pounding heart. Breath stuck in his throat, each one nearly choking him as he waited for an answer.

The cat's tail twitched, an annoyed chuff escaping it. “Yup, they were headed towards the main road again. Coast is clear, Meowster.” Leaping into the counter, Bat-Cat dropped and splayed across the cool stone top. It let out a high pitched whine, adding, “I hope we never see them again! The one with their hair up hit me with a branch! If there's ever a next time, I swear I'll bite them!”

The man sighs, slumping back against the counter behind him and resting his head on his scythe. The edge digs uncomfortably into the small of his back. “There never is a next time. But I'll reward your valiant efforts.” It takes some effort to set the weapon aside. He spins it so the heavy blade rests on the floor and leans the handle against the counters. Bat-Cat perks up, watching its owner as he moves towards the dried herbs to pull down a familiar jar of dried leaves. 

Licorice takes it to the straw mat by the door, shaking it out and rubbing it in. The cat leaps off the counter with a quiet ‘mrrrp’, immediately rubbing it's face into the mat. The white glow of it's eyes in it's eye sockets grows bigger. Licorice huffs, rolling his eyes at his pet’s antics. 

The creak of a door startles them both, Licorice falling over from his crouched position as he flinches away from the sudden sound. Bat-Cat’s wings flair out, back arched as they both turn to the cabinet door that opened up. A small child pokes their head out, thick, coiled, lilac hair puffed out around their deep brown face. Hazy purple eyes clearly focused on the pair as they called, “Licooo… is hide and seek over? Did we win?”

“Huh? Oh, ehhh, yeah, they totally lost buddy! I told you I'm a master at this game! Nobody beats Licorice Cookie at hide and seek! But I thought I told you to stay hidden until I came to get you.” Licorice gets up as the child crawls out of the cabinet and trots up to him, his anxious voice sharper as he scolds them towards the end of his ramble.

They wrap their little arms around his legs, face buried into the fabric of his dark grey baji as they whine. “But Licooo~ I want shroomies. I'm hungry…” It earns a groan from the man. He caves to the weak pressure, already knowing he was late making dinner with his unexpected visitors. Poison Mushroom was only a child after all, and he did interrupt their meal prep to shove the kid in a cupboard. 

“Yeah, yeah, hold your shroomies you brat. I'm getting to it.” After he pries the kid off him, he scoops them up under their arms and sets them on the counter next to the water basin he'd brought in. He steps back, hand on his hip as he asks, “You’re a great minion, so surely you remember your job?” 

They nod, grinning a lazy grin. “I gotta wash the shroomies an the veggies. Or else!” Their hands wave for a moment before they pause, brow furrowed as they try to recall something. “Uuhhh… or else… huh. I forgot.”

“Or else we get sick. And if we both get sick, I can't make potions or medicine to trade, and that means…” Licorice gestures at them vaguely in an attempt to indicate he wants them to finish the thought. 

Poison Mushroom stares at him blankly, the only sound in the kitchen being Bat-Cat's claws tearing up the straw mat with a steady purr. The kid jumps suddenly, as if physically struck by the thought. “Ah!! No money for shroomies! I'll do it good! Promise!” They look genuinely spooked by their realization, not even noticing Licorice's dumbfounded expression as he processes it. Their hands are held out, curling and uncurling in a grabbing motion.

After a moment, Licorice straightens and picks up the bowl of vegetables he'd stuffed in another cabinet. Poison Mushroom takes them with an oddly determined look in their eyes. “Witches… you're such a weirdo. But I guess that's close enough.” He returns to his position at the cutting board, pulling the cookbook off the shelf and reopening it to the basic stir fry he was supposed to be making.

Despite the calm that had returned to their little home, he found himself distracted. Those Watchers genuinely left him shaken, a slight quiver still in his hands as he picked up the knife. He tells himself they were probably just curious. That, like every other person who wanders into town, they won't return now that they think it's empty. There's nothing to fear. It won't change anything. 

Still, somewhere deep down this time feels… different. What if he messed up? Did he make too much noise? Was his hasty illusion faulty somehow? He pauses his cutting as his breath becomes shaky again. ‘It's no big deal… this isn't the first time you've done this. Stop overthinking…,’ he tells himself. 

It's a weak reassurance, so he tries his best to shove down the stress, the fear, the anxiety. Instead, he picks up the knife and keeps chopping. Listens to Poison Mushroom’s humming as they wash their vegetables and the constant, loud purr from Bat-Cat tripping out on catnip. And he hopes that he's wrong. That he's just being paranoid. But he can't shake the feeling he's forgotten something important in his rush earlier.

Chapter Text

A soft knock echos through the night, buried by the howling winds and distant wails as waves crash against the docks below. Caramel Arrow keeps her eyes on the docks. Watching. Waiting. Another soldier walks below her, their lantern visible through the light fog in the distance. Her gaze stays focused as she watches them, calling out, “You may come in.” She doesn't look away, concern etched on her face as she watches her comrade below. From the corner of her eye, the flash of white armor tells her who had just joined her. Dark Choco peers over the edge to watch just as she does. 

He looks tired, far more than the last she'd seen him. It had been over a week since their little escapade into the old Licorice village. He'd been busy catching up on official work, reorganizing their militia, running the training regimen and supervising recruitment of new pharmacists, so on and so forth. Even his free time has been dedicated to forging proposals to bring before the king or researching the Licorice Sea and its favored tribe to strengthen said proposals.

“A moment of your time, First Watcher?” His tone is far more formal than it is when they're alone. A slight command hidden beneath the respectful tone, the way a prince should speak to someone of a lower rank. Deep down, she's sure he cringes at it as he's always preferred a less formal approach with his subjects.

“Of course, my prince.” She responds with ease honed from years of dealing with members of the court. One could never be too sure who was listening in to their conversations. They'd rather be safe than sorry. 

Dark Choco leans against the railing, peering down at the black water below. The pale orange of the soldier's lantern draws nearer to the base of their post. “I don't know if I should mention it to my father.”

Thoug he is being purposely vague, she knows exactly what he means. The possibility of a Licorice Tribe member having returned was looking favorable. But the king may not approve of their loosely constructed plans to begin with. “I would wait.” She advises, eyeing him curiously. He's no longer looking at the sea, but towards the tribe's village. 

“It's difficult to make a plan when I can't even see the other party. Since they're a mage, they may be qualified to work in the court. It would be ideal to provide safety and security for them. But what if they refuse? What if father refuses? What if something happens to them before I can properly offer my terms?” Dark Choco speaks aloud, more to himself than to her as he lists off issues he sees in his own ideas. His hands grip the railing tightly, his neat, dark hair mussed by the salty sea wind.

Her cheeks feel warm despite the stinging cold. A weight settles in her chest. It's times like these that make it obvious how capable the prince really is. To consider every outcome and option before making his move. It was a struggle for him to reach this point, the delicate matters of court politics were never something either of them wanted a part of. But, especially in Dark Choco's position, there was little they could do to avoid it. She's just glad he chose to lean on her rather than that snake Affogato.

“You need more information on the village's current resident.” It's a simple response, but to the point. Dark Choco nods in agreement.

“I want to say we need to stake out the area. But that could be a waste of our time if they don't leave. Approaching them likely won't work, they may not have had enough time to hide properly, but they still knew we were coming.” The prince muses as he leans slightly against her shoulder. It's just a bit of affection, the most he's comfortable showing in public. 

Caramel Arrow responds by pushing back, comforted by the slight chill of his metal armor through the thick cape. She keeps her eye on the water now as the soldier comes into view. “You were researching how they would've known. Did you find anything?” He nods again and she glances at him briefly to catch the slight blush darkening his cheeks.

His hands clasp together, grip tightening. “That strange creature is probably the culprit. It may be a familiar of the mage. Since it encountered us, it must have warned them.” Frustration graces his features, his jaw clenched tight as he glares down into the water. 

“Can we capture it? Maybe lure them out?” Caramel Arrow suggests. If the strange animals was a familiar, then they would have a much harder time approaching their target. The mage would probably hide from them again, and pushing too much could chase them away from the kingdom completely.

“Possibly, but what if that ruins our chance to speak to them?” Dark Choco sighs, dragging a hand down his face as he adds, “Mages are said to be fond of their familiars.” 

Out of ideas, Caramel Arrow turns her gaze from the Sea to the soldier. They're below her now, lantern held out in front of them as they stick close to the base of the wall. It's as far from the Sea as they can be in their position. Their head tilts back, meeting her eyes. A quick wave is all they give. A sign they're alright. She raises her hand back and sees Dark Choco do the same just as the water below shifts

Trained eyes spot the bubbling water before they do. She nocks an arrow, watching, waiting. Dark Choco spots it too. The soldier turns to the abyss as more and more bubbles churn the water, and she can only imagine their frightened expression. Yet they still draw their sword to brave the threat. 

The bubbling stops, water falling still to perfectly mirror the sky. Whipping winds slowly yield. Wails of the sea fall silent for the first time in her life. It's different from other nights as no creatures surface to swipe at the soldier in an attempt to drag them below. But Caramel Arrow shivers as a chill creeps up her spine. She whispers as quietly as she can to the prince, “Tell them to open the gate for the patrol. Quietly.”

Dark Choco looks at her, mouth opening, then closing again. He glances out at the Sea as the scent of licorice extract grows stronger than the salty waters. Without a word, he turns on his heel and runs out of the tower. The soldier below her has their back pressed against the wall. Orange light casts ominous shadows across the docks from the lantern's new place on the ground. They look up to her again, even from this distance she can clearly see the terror in their eyes. 

The Sea is never silent.

Something is very, very wrong.

Yet she slowly tips her bow down the dock towards the seaside entrance as a silent instruction for the soldier. They understand, picking up the lantern and moving on down the dock slowly. Caramel Arrow keeps pace above them, following along the wall to aid them if needed. The other watchers stationed outside of the tower raise their weapons as well. She locks eyes with one and nods towards the tower. Someone needed to man it in case they had to sound the alarm.

Creaking echoed across the docks, the door finally opening for them. Her shoulders stiffen, heart drumming wildly in her chest. Calming down won't be possible until the soldier is safe behind the wall. They keep on walking. The dock below creaks, faint at first until the sound peaks in an echoing crunch and the dock begins to tip.

The bell rings from the tower, a chorus of shouts.

Her heart drops. The soldier scrambles with an echoing yelp as they pitch to the side, just barely saving themselves from tumbling into the black sea. The end of the dock groans and snaps as the sea swallows it up, chasing the soldier stumbling on collapsing wood towards solid stone floors. She fires an arrow at the creatures hidden in the swell as they lunge, shouting for all the archers to hear, “KEEP FIRING! DON'T STOP UNTIL IT BACKS DOWN!” The lack of response doesn't bother her as bows are drawn. 

Glancing back down, Caramel Arrow's heart leaps to her throat. Familiar white armor flashes in the dim light, racing down the docks to cut down the creatures blocking the path between the soldier and safety. The dock shakes as the sea crushes its supports. It all blurs as she spins on her heel, bolting towards the stairs leading down the wall. Her bow is split before she realizes it. Skipping entire flights of stairs, cursing out that stupid, stupid prince and his damned desire to be a hero that he never grew out of.

She shoves past the others, rushing water ringing in her ears. Leaving behind the safety of the wall she soon sees the swell swallowing more of the dock. Dark Choco has the soldier by the arm, dragging them along behind him. He meets her eyes, confusion and fear clear in them as they finally reach the stairs. The two scramble up, waves hot on their heels as she grabs the soldier and shoves them towards the door. Dark Choco is right behind them, he was right behind them. But when she turns, he's not made it up. 

From the top of the stairs- when had she gotten there?- she can see the thing holding his leg. Its humanoid shape is twisted, dripping black ooze over the stark white armor. Long, globule strands fall around its dented head like hair. Dull blue eyes, dimmer than those of the other beasts climbing the stairs towards him, are lopsided. 

Just the sight of it makes her shiver, frozen on the spot. The weight of the Sea crashes over her, frigid and heavy. Her breath shortens, lungs weighed down as if they were filling with water. It burns and stings at the same time, choking the air out of her. Where were the others? Why weren't they helping? The prince is-! Sharpness brings her back, some part of her having had the sense to drive her own blade into her palm. 

That thing-?

Whatever it was, it should not be.

Never had she heard of such a being from the Sea. Not even in stories. 

Dark Choco doesn't react to it. Frozen stiff as he stares at the thing. So focused on it, he doesn't attempt to escape until the others reach him. Only then does he react to their freezing touches, so cold they can burn frostbite into skin. Perhaps he was under the same spell, she had been. His blade is nowhere to be seen. But with a clearer head Caramel Arrow snaps her bow together and fires at the ringleader. 

It dissolves into muck, splashing across the stairs in an inky puddle. Dark Choco kicks at the other creatures as they try to pull him back, now fully aware of the danger. As another arrow knocks the last into the water, he scrambles to his feet again. The water rises after him, and Caramel Arrow snatches his outstretched hand to pull him along behind her.

They stumble through the gate just as the water spills over the stairs, flooding the landing. It's shut behind them with a heavy thud. Only then does Caramel Arrow take a moment to breathe. She glances up at Dark Choco panting beside her as he leans on a nearby crate. His breath puffed in little clouds as he gripped his chest. Finally, he turns to her and cracks a weary grin. It makes her chest burn as she thinks of his stupidity. His foolishness. 

So when he finally recovers enough to approach her, she swings. Her fist connects with his cheek, eyes as wide and shocked as her own feelings. But she's watching from the back of her own head now as he stumbles back. Before he can give her that cute, wide eyed, kicked puppy stare, she grabs his cape and drags him so close their foreheads touch, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? DID YOU NOT SEE THE DANGER? ARE YOU BLIND? DO NOT LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT AND ANSWER!”

He was already giving her the saddest expression he could muster under her withering glare. After a moment, Dark Choco averted his gaze. “I apologize First Watcher. But it seemed no one else was making a move to aid Doppio, so I took the initiative. I never meant to get in your way.” His tone wavers, clearly still shaken by the experience. 

“I only told you to open the gate for them. Not to risk your life! I wanted them safe as well, but you are our Prince! What would happen to us, to our kingdom, without you?” The anger burns hot, but she forces it down as she releases him from her grasp. A brief, traitorous thought sits on her tongue and she hopes he can see it in her eyes, ‘What would happen to me without you?’ Her glare sweeps across the crowd, but her tongue is tied now. The other soldiers seem… off. Much like Dark Choco, they rub their chests or shiver like they took a dip in the sea itself.

It almost slips, almost. But it's interrupted by the king's appearance. Affogato trails behind him, the advisor having clearly just been woken up as he yawns. He's donned his armor once more, glancing between those present as if trying to determine who to tear into first. His gaze settles on his son. “The First Watcher is correct, Dark Choco. Pray tell, what made you think it was wise to run out and challenge the Licorice Sea?”

To his credits, the prince shows no nervousness, lifting his chin as he repeats his earlier statement. “No one else made a move to aid Doppio, the soldier patrolling the seaside docks. I felt it was necessary when the dock began to collapse and the Sea gave chase.” He stands his ground, though his sharp, defensive gaze softens as he glances back to Caramel Arrow. 

Dark Cacao follows it, “And you, First Watcher?”

“I was merely following the prince, my king. The Sea's behavior was abnormal tonight and I feared for his safety alone out there.” Caramel Arrow's anger resurfaces as she glares back at him, her silent curses loud and clear. It earns her a raised eyebrow and nothing more. 

“...I see. Then all those who were outside the wall will follow me. The rest of you who failed to aid your prince in battle had better have an explanation for the Second Watcher.” Dark Cacao commands. His face is stern as ever, only the slight furrow of his brow and clenched jaw betray his anger. Grabbing his son's arm at the elbow, he drags his son away. 

A wave is all he gives to signal her and Doppio to follow. The poor soldier shakes in their boots as they follow diligently. Dark Choco casts pleading and apologetic glances her way that she pretends she cannot see. Instead she combs the memories of the strange assault, unable to shake the feeling of unease that's settled deep in her chest. Tonight was going to be a long night.

—------

Licorice crouches by the door, fussing over his charge’s fur-lined cloak as he tries to get it just right. He mutters to himself, brushing their hands away as they try to grab him in their groggy state. It's a village day. One of the days he braves the risk of discovery to trade with the other villages. A day for Poison Mushroom to get out and interact with other kids while he trades the few potions or medicines he managed to make with their scant resources and foraged goods.

Finally, content that it won't slip off, Licorice hands the kid their purple spotted beanie. One he bought for them after realizing he couldn't get rid of them. Why the universe decided to upgrade its cat distribution system into ‘random mushroom sprite’ for him, he didn't know. He just knew he was stuck with them after a brief trip south for herbs. Somehow the kid just decided he was their ideal guardian. Witches forbid… he could barely take care of himself. But it had already happened and he could do nothing about it now but keep them alive.

Licorice stands then, tossing his own dark, slate grey cloak around his shoulders and fastens it to his dark jeogori with a pair of skull shaped bone pins. The black baji are wrapped up to his knees with bandages, keeping them firmly in place. A weak frown tugs at his lips, more of a scowl than anything. He tugs his hood over his head so it hangs as far over his face as possible to hide the flush dusting his cheeks. “Alright, got everything?” Licorice asks, retrieving Poison Mushroom's reed basket and putting it in their gloved hands.

“Mmm hmmm… got it.” They mumble, stifling a yawn behind the periwinkle sleeve of their oversized jeogori. The deep purple chima was sloppily embroidered with various mushrooms, in magenta thread.

“Tired?” The kid nods, leaning into Licorice's hands as he readjusted the scarf around their neck. “Yeah, same. But we gotta be up early if we wanna make it to the Milk village today. Plus I gotta do my thing before we go too, so like...” He makes a low gruff sound, waving a hand vaguely towards the door.

Poison Mushroom nods again. “Okay…” Their grip tightens on the basket as they follow close on his heels. He leads them out the door, dawn barely breaking over the horizon. Salt and licorice greets them, the scents heavy with their proximity to the sea.

Licorice glances around town, watching the black oozlings as they slither towards the water buckets outside every home. The tops of his are frozen over, so he lifts the scythe in his hands and slams the sharp, arrow head shaped end onto the ice. It shatters with ease, magic cracking across the surface as it breaks the three inch thick ice. The sound draws the nearest creatures as they scramble for cover from the rising morning sun. The large one with dull blue eyes takes its usual spot near the door.

He repeats the process at every bucket he knows of. Breaking ice and letting the creatures slide into the buckets for safety. They'll dry out in the sun if they don't, crumbling to dust. It's tedious and boring work, but a long formed habit from years ago. He tries to ignore their stares as they watch him leave. Always watching.

Thankfully Poison Mushroom doesn't seem to care about them. Even seeming to like them. The kid was such a weirdo, and Licorice could only watch as the child went up to each bucket behind him to offer the oozlings an edible mushroom. It was part of their morning routine by now. The kid loved all their ‘friends’ so much. Turning his back to them, Licorice continued his work of scooping the weaker creatures into the buckets with the dull section at the base of his scythe’s blade. The sun had made it over the horizon by the time he finished dumping a half crumbled creature into the creek by the bridge. 

Poison Mushroom came up behind him, a pep in their step now that they were more awake. “Frieenndsss~!” They drawl, walking to the center of the bridge and standing over the creek. “Have some Shroomies!” They begin pulling mushrooms from their sleeves and Licorice cracks a tired grin. Some part of him regrets teaching the kid a subspace spell, but moments like these make it worthwhile. He lets them finish dumping mushrooms into the creek. 

Tired eyes peer over the edge, watching the creatures cautiously surface just long enough to snatch mouthfuls of the offerings. “All done?” He asks, extending a hand to the kid. They grab it immediately, smiling a large but lazy smile as they stare up at him with hazy eyes. He pauses, those eyes always concern him but he can't do much about the loopy state the poor kid lives in. They seemed to see fine anyways and it's just a result of their magic. The powerful hallucinogen of the mushrooms they grow runs through their blood as well. He had run every test he knew of to check, had a qualified doctor look them over, whatever he could and still was told Poison Mushroom was fine. 

“Yeah… we go to town now? I wanna see my other friends!” They trot alongside him, following the path to the collapsed gate. Gasping, they turned to Licorice with wide eyes. “Can I give them-?”

“No. Come on buddy, we talked about this. Your Shroomies aren't easy for other people to eat yet.” He chastised, a pang of guilt digging into his chest as he watched them deflate. But it didn't last long before they were back to skipping along.

It was Poison Mushroom who made it to the gate first, immediately scrambling up the side and sliding down the giant spiral. Their excited giggles could be heard for miles. Licorice just sighs as he hauls himself over the debris. Part of him considers clearing it, but by now it would look suspicious if he did. ‘I really need to get another path cleared,’ he thinks to himself as he follows them. But habits were hard to break.

Once they were on the other side, he took their hand again and led them down the path. Bat-Cat had already gone ahead of them to scout out any of the killer beasts of the kingdom, so Licorice wasn't too worried. He only hoped those Watchers weren't still around. It had been a week since the heart stopping encounter. They hadn't been back, but that didn't mean he let himself relax. It would be some time before they made it there after all, but at least he'd had the foresight to turn the once three day trips into half day trips.

.

.

.

“Oi, Milk. Who's that kid? Don't think I've seen ‘em before?” The man nudged his companion, watching the small, unfamiliar child prancing through the town square while swinging a basket just a bit oversized for them. He grimaced as he brushed more powdery snow from his borrowed, teal durumagi. The stupid flakes constantly annoyed him, biting at his bare skin where they landed. But they just had to visit. To see how the little village was faring since their departure on an adventure elsewhere. 

Milk turns at his prodding, patient as always despite the rough jabs. “Please point Yam, I can't tell you if you don't show me.” Rather than pointing for his companion, Purple Yam grits his teeth and grabs Milk’s chin in a fierce grip to turn him towards the kid in question. They're decked out in purple with a deep violet cloak and a magenta spotted, purple hat stop their head. “I… I suppose they're new? I would recognize a kid as purple as you.”

The woman Milk was speaking to peers around them both, answering for him. “Oh! Purple Mushroom! I was wondering where they were. They're here about twice a week to trade goods.” She giggles for a moment before quieting under the glare of Purple Yam. The brawler was infamous for his temper after all and while he's never done them harm, she wasn't about to test her luck.

Pulling free from his companion’s grasp, Milk turns back to her with a smile. “Thank you Buttermilk. Say, do they come here alone? Or do they live with someone? They seem quite young…” His eyes follow the child as they approach a store, recognizing the apothecary immediately.

Buttermilk only shrugs, “Well, they say their brother walks them here, but I've yet to see said brother myself. I believe Elder Old Milk did mention meeting with them though. Poor things, it must be rough for a couple of mushroom cookies to adjust to the land here.” She prattles on, waving her hands as she gossips with Milk.

Bored once more, Purple Yam glances at the store where the kid disappeared. He didn't know much, anything really, about medicine. But it felt odd that a young child would go there of all places. Was it something that brother made them do? It seemed… What was the word? Negligent? Yeah. To send a child alone into an unfamiliar village seemed pretty negligent. 

Sure! Purple Yam knew the Milk village and its residents were obnoxiously friendly and safe. But the kid's brother probably didn't if they were new. It irked him, pricking at his nerves as he watched the door. Moments later the kid walks out, balancing their basket atop their head as they take exaggerated steps towards a small stall. He knew as much about kids as he did about medicine if he's honest. Though he could confidently say the smaller a kid, the younger they probably were. That one was smaller than most of the Milk village's kids. 

“Coin for your thoughts friend?” Milk asks as he finishes his discussion. 

Frowning at the saying, Purple Yam waved towards the child. “I know kids are small, but ain't that one too small to be alone?”

“Don't you think most kids are too small to be alone?” Milk asks, earning another glare from his hot tempered friend. He had to give Purple Yam credit for behaving himself for once, their years of travel and visiting the village had curbed a bit of his worst bite. At least in the presence of the villagers. But as he looked, Milk found Purple Yam made a good point. This kid was clearly young, who would want to leave them alone? Part of him found it odd, but he reasoned there must be a logical explanation. Maybe it was the child's idea? Maybe mushroom cookies were more independent than most? Maybe there was a reason the brother didn't come into the village? Was their brother just waiting outside somewhere?

Purple Mushroom finishes up at the stall, then leaves their basket there to run off and play with some of the other kids across the square. Glancing back at Purple Yam, Milk grabs him and drags him towards the stall first. The shopkeep there, Sour Cream, brightens just a bit at the sight of them. “Oh! Milk! I heard you're back again! And Purple Yam too! Need anything?” The basket is loaded with food

Before Milk can ask, Purple Yam grumbles, “We wanna know about the new kid.”

Sour Cream looks a bit surprised, his gaze shifting to the group making snow angels. Milk steps in to elaborate, “Buttermilk told us their brother brings them but that she's never seen him? It just seems a bit concerning to us that someone would send their young sibling out like this.” 

“Ahhh… I suppose that's fair. From what I know, Purple Mushroom's older brother waits outside somewhere. The kid says his brother is shy and doesn't like people seeing him. Sounds suspicious to me, but Old Milk insists that he's talked to the guy and he's not a threat.” Sour Cream leans against the table, adding in a lower voice, “Frankly, I'm a bit more concerned about the kids claiming to see Licorice beasts in the woods as of late. Plus some of the hunters are crying about a ghost in the woods…scary stuff lately.” 

Milk frowns at the information, recalling stories of the creatures mentioned. Made of oozing licorice, their bodies were like tar. Sticky, heavy, yet they moved with shocking ease as they slithered across the ground. The creatures had once nearly driven his tribe to extinction in the distant past. “Has anyone confirmed the sightings?”

“No clear confirmation thankfully. I'd hate to know how the beasts found their way up here after all this time,” Sour Cream rants, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Especially since no one's seen one of those sea loving bastards in years. First they get the Citadel gates shut ‘cause they can't keep the Sea under control, then they pitch a fit and attack the Citadel, and then they've up and vanished.”

Milk’s face dropped at the harsh tone, torn between biting his tongue and pointing out that the tribe couldn't control the king. After all, they were still citizens of the Dark Cacao kingdom too, regardless of how… odd their tribe was rumored to be. Instead, he changes the subject. “What about that ghost? That sounds rather recent.” He ignores the scoff of Purple Yam, keeping a friendly smile on his face.

Ever the gossip, Sour Cream perks up again. He brushes loose white curls from his face as he pulls up the stool behind the counter. “Now, I'll start by saying I don't believe in those ghost stories. If anything, there's an armed stranger lurking around our village. Been making sure the hunters have their guards up to be safe. But folks have been seeing a dark figure hauling around a big old scythe. It's always gone if they try to get close so they're calling it a ghost.”

At this, Purple Yam perks up. He's already aware that Milk would want to investigate for his village's safety. The possibility of a fight makes his blood boil. Turning, he's about to offer to investigate for Milk when a small, slurred voice interrupted him. “I'm back Mr. Sour Cream! Thank you for watching dinner! Have a Shroomie!” A golden morel slides across the table as the shopkeep passes the basket over. 

Beside him, Milk sees Purple Yam freeze. Likely noticing the kids hazy, unfocused eyes too. The kid takes their basket, then turns to the pair with a lazy grin. Their eyes widen minutely and their grin grows as they chirp, “Oh! You're new! Want Shroomies?” Rummaging around in their sleeves, they finally pull out a Shiitake and Reishi mushroom that they proudly display. Purple Yam looks incredulous, dumbfounded by the sheer absurdity of the situation. Not uncommon but it still makes Milk chuckle as he takes the Shiitake mushroom offered to him. His companion follows his lead, still clearly confused as he takes the Reishi mushroom and pockets it. 

“Thank you, friend. Say, are you leaving?”

The kid nods, lazy grin turning into a wide, beaming smile. Their eyes sparkle excitedly now that the two have taken the mushrooms. “Uh, huh~ My brother's waiting… gotta go home soon.” They rock back and forth on their heels, grin still holding.

Seeing the opportunity, Milk offers, “Then how about my friend Purple Yam and I walk you outside? It's rare but sometimes wild animals come near the village. We wouldn't want you to get hurt before your brother comes to pick you up.” 

Tilting their head to the side, the kid's eyes seem oddly clear now. They hum, rocking back on their heels again as they hold tight to their basket full of food. “I don't think I'm allowed. He says not to leave with friends I just met. Sorry!” They stop moving and sigh, looking just a bit downcast as they complain. “Maybe next time! When we won't be new friends anymore!”

Purple Yam starts to argue, but Milk quickly cuts him off. “We understand! It's good to listen to your brother. You best get going now.” Milk speaks softly as he offers a kind smile. Then his eyes widen as if he'd just remembered something. “Oh! Silly me. I never told you my name. I'm Milk Cookie! I already told you my friend here is Purple Yam. Who are you?”

The kid responds immediately, though they stutter over their introduction, “Poi-! Purple Mushroom! Bye-bye friends Milk and… uhh, Purple Yam! I'll bring you new Shroomies next week.” He doesn't miss the way Purple Mushroom stumbled over their own name. They don't seem to notice or care as they give a little bow and skip away. The two stand there for a moment, sharing a glance. Then they start after the kid at a distance. Milk at least has no intention of letting them go alone after all, and Purple Yam needed something to keep him busy anyway.

They follow past the village entrance, down the path and into the woods. Milk notes that their brother is nowhere to be seen despite having expected him to be near the entrance. Purple Mushroom is completely oblivious as they skip along the snowy path. The kid stops once during their trek, skipping over to a fallen log to take some mushrooms growing from it. They're done in seconds, surprisingly swift as they tuck their find into their basket. Then it's back on the road.

A flicker of black catches Milk's attention though, further up ahead. He recalls the words of Sour Cream, of a possible intruder in their lands. Purple Mushroom is completely oblivious to them. Milk can barely see them among the trees at this distance, but they seem to be watching the child. Just as he moves to warn Purple Yam the figure tilts their head in their direction. 

He can feel his heart sink, a sudden gust of wind blowing up snow in his face. It kicks up tons of powdered snow. Their vision goes white as they stumble around. Purple Yam shouts angry curses, waving an arm wildly as if he could fan it away. Milk stumbles forward, calling out, “Hey! Purple Mushroom! Where are you?!” Surely the poor kid would be scared. He had to hurry to find them.

There's no response so he keeps going straight towards the last place he'd seen them. It's only once he stumbles out of the snowy cloud that it hits him. Purple Mushroom is gone. With no tracks or trail, the child simply disappeared. He's not sure how long he stood there. Long enough for the snow to settle and Purple Yam to literally shake him out of his stupor. His companion looks angry at first but his face drops when there's barely a response. “Hey, Milk, where'd the kid go?”

He just shakes his head. That was the one thing he didn't know. Purple Mushroom had just vanished, like the ghost in the woods. He wasn't sure how to explain it, especially to his hard headed friend. As much as he cared for the other, he wouldn't deny Purple Yam struggled to understand many concepts. It would be no different than trying to explain magic to the brawler. 

Milk wants to take off into the woods. To search for the poor child or the figure he's sure took them. But he has no real trail, no leads. So he takes the sensible route. “...Purple Mushroom disappeared. We should return and warn the elder first, then go to the Black Wall to report to the watchers.” The other's eyes light up at having a task to do and he's quickly dragged along, back towards the Milk village. Whatever happened, he hopes the kid was okay. He should be prepared to face their brother too, when said brother realizes he never came back.

.

.

.

With one hand clamped tight over the kid's mouth, Licorice watches the two strangers disappear towards the village again. He's tempted to shake Poison Mushroom as hard as he can for scaring him. All he wanted to do was meet the little guy halfway like always, get back to the simple transportation circle he had drawn just outside the village's official territory, and go home.

But no. Poison Mushroom comes bounding obliviously down the path with their basket in hand and two unfamiliar people trailing behind them. One looked like a member of the village, but their face wasn't familiar. The other clearly wasn't from around here, standing out like a sore thumb with their bright magenta dreads and tattoos over their eyes. It just rubbed him wrong that they would follow the kid all this way, so of course he had to intervene.

Now he was sitting in the freezing snow with one hand on his scythe as he held the concealment spell over them both and the other holding the squirming child against his chest. Licorice grits his teeth, reminding himself that Poison Mushroom was only about five or six by his guess. Maybe seven. They genuinely thought everyone was a potential friend. Possible danger likely didn't cross their mind.

Once he was sure they were gone, he dropped the spell and released Poison Mushroom. They immediately spun around, wrapping their arms around his chest. “Lico! There you are! I made new friends today and they took some of my not magic Shroomies!”

Licorice freezes under their cuddling, anger fading to annoyance as he sighs. He leans back against the tree and slowly wraps his arms around his charge. It's only now he feels his heart practically beating out of his chest. “That's great, but you scared me. Didn't I tell you to watch your surroundings?” They nod, shrinking a bit under the scolding.

Poison Mushroom didn't respond, only snuggling deeper under his cloak. With a sigh, Licorice adjusts his grip and stands. He can nag the kid later once they're safe.

Chapter Text

Dark as pitch, the water at the cliffside beach was lively as ever. It rolled in waves, lapping at their feet. Curling around his ankles like a gentle caress. Almost comforting. Licorice is sure it can sense his growing unease. Dread had settled in his gut since that day the watchers arrived in the village, already rough sleep further disturbed by the gnawing fear he'd been discovered. 

The Sea whispers, a soft, soothing reassurance on repeat. ‘You are safe. We will protect you. Protect your kin.’ The water reaches up, swiping against Poison Mushroom's hand as the child reaches out to it. They giggle at it as if they can't feel the freezing temperature of it. Introducing the kid to the Sea, trying to get it to recognize them as a friend, had been a chore itself. They had almost gotten swept away multiple times before he managed to get it to recognize them as an initiate to the tribe. Hearing it insist on protecting them now eased some of his burden.

Normally, he'd find the whispers directed at him oddly comforting. Some part of him still did, even now. But he knows it's done something. Foraging near the Black Wall had proven that, he'd seen the watchers barricading the seaside entrance. Sealing it up and marking it with a danger sign. Whatever it had done, it had shaken the Citadel to the core. More watchers, more patrols near the entrance, unusual movements… he just couldn't shake the feeling his life would soon be at risk.

The full moon hung high in the sky, reflected in the water. Waves crested, flowing away from the shore in a zigzag like a beast lurking below it's surface. It was different from the waters by the Citadel where it had gone still as a statue. A silent threat to the king no doubt. He needed it to behave. They needed it to behave. Be like normal at the very least. Anything the Sea did would undoubtedly be pinned on his tribe. If someone was sent to investigate, then his home would also be targeted. Just the thought made his stomach churn.

The waves retreated as he glared, leaving behind a couple confused looking oozlings washed ashore. Poison Mushroom broke away from his side to skip up to them, already pulling mushrooms from their sleeves to give them as the lavender magelight followed. Licorice sighed, pausing as he watched them feeding the oozlings. He waited impatiently, foot tapping against the sand as he bit back the urge to rush them. Poison Mushroom hadn't done anything wrong after all. They were only feeding their friends. He just wanted to do the offering and ask the Sea to stop threatening the Citadel so he could rest easier.

As he watched, the memory hits him. The kid wobbling towards the sea, hands outstretched. Turning around just in time to snatch them away from an oozling ready to drag them into the water. Thankfully that wasn't an issue anymore, but Licorice couldn't help but watch the interaction closely just to be safe. If he needed to intervene then he would be ready.

His worries were proved unneeded as the oozlings took the offerings before slithering back to the water. Poison Mushroom trotted back to him, their gait a bit unsteady due to their odd, constantly high state. “I made new friends Licorice!” They chirped proudly as they followed him further down the shore. 

“I saw, but you don't need to stop and feed every single one that washes up. We're here for a reason, remember?” He repeats to them for the hundredth time knowing full well the next oozlings they cross would also get a mushroom from his charge.

“Uh, huh… but I like making friends! You should make new friends too.” They tell him, imitating his chastising tone. Their chest puffs up and they lean forward with one hand on their hip and their pointer finger extended. They wag their finger at him as they speak and he briefly wonders if this is how he looks when he tells them off for something they do. It takes him off guard and he almost trips over his feet.

It takes him a moment to respond. He doesn't know how to explain to the kid that he can't make new friends even if he wanted to. That it might be dangerous for them both if he tried. The loneliness he'd long grown accustomed to bubbled under his skin, but as always, he pushed it down. He had Bat-Cat and Poison Mushroom after all. He wasn't really alone.

Rather than explain all that to the kid he just shrugged. “Why would I want new friends when I have such a cute little student?” He asked, trying bury the fondness in his voice with a light chuckle.

Poison Mushroom giggles in response, gloved hands covering their mouth to hide their glee. Once they stop they turn their big, purple eyes to him with striking clarity. “‘Cause grown ups need grown up friends to talk to about grown up stuff… That's what Miss Buttermilk said.”

Licorice can only sigh, tearing his gaze away from theirs to hide his discomfort. It lands on the small altar ahead, and he seizes the opportunity to change the subject. “Yeah… that's great and all, but we're here now. See?” He points at the stone slab built on the beach that jutted out slightly into the water. It's old, moss clinging to the stone and growing between the cracked stone floor carved with deep grooves.

Purple ropes hung between the remaining pillars surrounding it. Some hung loose, gently swaying in the sea breeze. Others stayed anchored to the pillars with dark banners decorating their lengths. The stone braziers in between each pillar had been dark for some time, but tonight he'd need the light. 

Before Licorice got started, he led Poison Mushroom to the stone table right at the water’s edge. The bag slung over his shoulder plopped down with a hefty thunk and he picked them up to sit on the table beside it. “Okay, so I'm gonna show you an easy ritual tonight. Got it?”

“Uh, huh!” Poison Mushroom chirps, kicking their legs excitedly as they stare up at their caretaker. Licorice had told them that they had to do a special magic tonight to make the water happy again because the people who came to town had made it upset. And since it was their friend, of course they wanted to help it feel better.

“Alright. Now pay attention, got it? First you set up the offerings in the bowl here.” He pulls out a simple, covered obsidian bowl filled with rice, setting it carefully on the stone top. Then he pulls out a couple smaller, covered bowls. Just as he anticipated, a small hand reached towards the rice. He smacks it away and turns to Poison Mushroom again. “Do not try to eat the offerings! That's not a good thing!”

“But I'm hungry!” They whine, making a grab for one of the other bowls. 

Licorice intercepts them again, growling quietly as he holds on to them this time. “I said no, Poison Mushroom. Rituals are particular and if they require an offering to something, you can't just take it. You can pi- uspset whatever you try to contact and that's never a good thing.” They pout at him and he knows this is just going in one ear and out the other. So he adds, "How would you feel if I gave you some shroomies and still took half of them?” The sudden, appalled look crossing their face irked him. Sure, he understood this was the best way to speak to the kid, but it drove him nuts that they only seemed to understand his explanation if he somehow involved mushrooms in it.

Their mortified look quickly dimmed to a skeptical one. “Lico… you wouldn't.” They didn't sound too certain, but still made their shaky stand. Those purple eyes narrowed at him with sharp clarity as they scrutinized his face. Looking for any sign he was planning to do just that.

Rolling his eyes, the mage let go of their hands and pulled out a third bowl. That one he offered to Poison Mushroom. He wasn't stupid. The kid had been woken in the middle of the night for this, it was only natural they would be hungry. Their expression brightened instantly as they took it, pulling the cover off the top to find a few yugwa coated in dried shiitake flakes. An odd mixture, but one Licorice knew they loved. They didn't hesitate to stuff the fried snacks into their mouth.

“See? If you were patient, I would've given you something sooner. Without a lecture.” He explains, earning a muffled response he couldn't understand with their mouth full of food. Brushing it off, he sets up the bowls on the slab and adds the couple small trinkets he'd made when he had free time. A whittled wooden mushroom, an engraved bone pendant marked by the likeness of the Living Abyss, a round plush toy he sewed together to look like an oozling, and a painted, bird shaped whistle. It was all he had to spare for now. 

It's… lacking. Very plain and simple compared to the rituals he recalled. The deep steel blue silk laid across the table beneath various food and paper charms and carved bones from every household. The local smith left shining weapons. The stone mason left jade carvings. Everyone had something to offer, even himself, who used to leave hand sewn toys he made with Black Licorice's supervision. The Sea would always take everything left for it. 

He had always wondered why. Ever the curious child, he had asked everyone why the Sea wanted their gifts as most were useless junk. Most did not answer. Some shared their theories. Others rolled their eyes and shooed him off in annoyance. His own guardian, Black Licorice, had sat him down after the fifth time he harassed the shopkeeps in the village square with his endless questions and theories to tell him, ‘When someone you love puts in the effort to make you a gift, you should treasure it more than any gold or jewel. Because that item was made with you in mind. So surely the Sea treasures your gifts for the same reason.’

Clenching his jaw, Licorice takes a deep breath. His claws dig into the stone, shaking from the cold -or so he tells himself. He's not so sure he believes that anymore. But he grits his teeth and turns to Poison Mushroom. The kid is looking at him with their head tilted and a quizzical expression like they're trying to figure him out. Sighing, Licorice reaches out to pat their head. “What're you looking at? You done snacking?” His harsh tone contradicts the gentle petting, but he doesn't allow them to speak as he adds. “Alright, now your turn. Go use that spell I taught you to light all the braziers.”

Poison Mushroom nods, still watching him as they hold out their bowl of snacks for him to take. Once he does, they slide off the table and skip towards the nearest brazier. Holding their hands out, palm up, they recite the spell in mumbled words. A small flame flickers to life. They lean over the side, about to dip their hands and the flame into the oil when Licorice pulls them back with a strangled yelp. 

“YOU!! WHAT- POISON MUSHROOM!! THAT IS OIL!” Their confused purple eyes blink up at him for a moment. Then their face falls into an annoyed pout. It's clear they disliked his interruption, mimicking Licorice's usual disgruntled scowl.

“I'm lighting the fires.” They stated simply as if their brother's frazzled state didn't bother them at all.

“Ghh, I know, I know. I told you to. But what did I say before we left? We talked about fire safety, didn't we?” He asks them, stuttering over his own words like he couldn't quite keep up with them. Poison Mushroom grumbled something under their breath as he kept them away from the brazier. They were being awfully moody, Licorice notes. Probably because he had dragged them out of bed so late. He is no expert on kids, but he vaguely remembers a few times he was crabby because he stayed up late. It was probably similar. They were just such a good natured kid, they hadn't really shown it until now. 

“Can I light fires now?” Poison Mushroom asks, holding the flame still hovering over their hands up so he could see it. Their tone is flat. Still annoyed with him it seems. 

“Can you tell me why it was a bad idea to put your hand in the oil with the fire?” Licorice bites back, trying to sound more stern and less panicked than he felt. He hated his emotions slipping out of control like this. It irked him. But this once, he could ignore it. The damn kid almost burned their face off! Of course he would be scared. Anyone else would be.

They tilt their head, meeting his disgruntled glare with their own. It quickly shifts to more confusion, their brow furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line as they thought. Finally, Poison Mushroom shrugs as best they can with Licorice holding them under their armpits and announces with striking confidence, “I dunno. I forgot.”

Licorice wants to bash his head off the nearest pillar as he lets out a groan. “Because oil is highly flammable! If I didn't turn around when I did, it would've flared up and burnt your whole arm and face! Please, have some sense of self preservation! You were supposed to drop the flame and back away!” He knows he's yelling, but it can't be helped. One of these days, the kid would be the death of him.

“Oooohhhh~ Okay! I can do that.” They claim, squirming in his arms as they try to reach for the brazier again. 

“Oi! Stop squirming like that! Hold on a sec! Don't you have any patience?” Licorice complains loudly as he adjusts his grip so that his hands hold them under their armpits. Extending his arms, he holds them up over the brazier, adding, “Show me you can do it right and I'll let you down.” 

“M‘kay!” Poison Mushroom chirps, dangling in his hold as they stretch their arms out over the oil and drop it into the brazier. Licorice pulls them back as before the flame reaches the oil. It ignites, fire flaring up in a bright blue arc before settling to a high flame. They stare with wide eyes, amazed by the dancing light and long shadows it cast.

Seizing the opportunity, the mage points out, “See, If you put your hand in there, you would've gotten burned really badly. Do you understand now?” They nod, wiggling in his grasp until their feet touch down on stone. As soon as he lets them go, the kid is off to the next brazier. 

Licorice watches closely. They chant the spell once more, this time extending their hands over the brazier. Tilting their chin upward with a concentrated look, Poison Mushroom lets the flame fall before scrambling back. As soon it ignites, they turn to him with a proud grin.

“Good job! Now go light the others.” He tells them, hiding his own grin behind his purple scarf. Poison Mushroom skips off to do just that, leaving Licorice to continue setting up the altar. Several small candles are added to the corners, glowing faintly in the dark. He keeps checking over his shoulder to be sure Poison Mushroom doesn't forget their conversation as he works, but the kid is doing well. 

Once he's content with the arrangement, having found a decent place for the mushrooms slipped in without his notice, Licorice backs off. Poison Mushroom barrels into his side, almost knocking him over as the last brazier flares to life. They beam up at him proudly as they cling to his clothes. Blue light slithers through the grooves on the floor, stemming from each brazier to the center of the altar. He takes their hand, stepping away from the table to the center of the ingrained spell circle. 

The gentle sound of rolling waves rises as they crash into the shore, rising in a false tide as they spill over the altar and only that. The surrounding sand remains untouched. Water curls around their feet, freezing to the touch as it caresses them with an eerie sort of gentleness. Instinctively, Licorice pulls his charge closer. His fear of the Sea sweeping them away is still present enough to warrant it. 

The waves swell once more, engulfing the slab at the water's edge, faint candlelight swallowed by the murky darkness. Then it disappears, leaving behind smoldering candles and empty dishes. It's only then he speaks, voice quiet and lacking the conviction of his predecessor. “I… I know I'm in no position to make demands. But can you please stop threatening the Black Citadel?” He pauses, feeling the water curl up his leg to the knee. It holds him there, the constant shift and flow of liquid sending chills down his spine.

"Also!" Poison Mushroom chimes in, raising their hand like a student waiting to be called on. "Please help Licorice make new friends! He's really bad at it!" Licorice sputters, turning to them with an incredulous look. He wanted to scold them but couldn't quite find the words. The water wraps briefly around Poison Mushroom's now outstretched hand in acknowledgement. Then it retreats, surging over each light source and swallowing the fires. It settles again, leaving the altar dark once more.

Licorice waits a few moments, watching the Sea return to normal. He only moves again when Poison Mushroom yawns and whines about being tired. They clean up quickly to head home, and he hopes his lacking ritual is enough to calm the Sea.

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From his bedroom window, the black sea’s dark water made the Great Choco Wall bright as a child's toy. Since the attack four days ago, the sea had fallen silent. Still. Like a predator waiting to pounce. They'd barricaded the seaside entrance completely. Doubled security. Banned everyone from approaching the waterfront. There were no repairs made. Not even an attempt. No need to fix a dock the Sea could crush and consume at a moment's notice.

After his little stunt, he'd been put under watch. Guards escorted him everywhere, herding him away from the Sea anytime he so much as glanced in its direction. It stung. He wasn't some rambunctious child walking right into danger. Their soldier had been in danger and no one was helping them. How was he meant to leave them to die like that? Value of their life aside, the Citadel was already strained due to the lack of manpower and the looming threat of their rations dwindling.

Sighing, Dark Choco turns back to the desktop before him. Papers lay scattered about. Books about the Licorice Tribe and sea lay strewn across the table. Only his proposals for his father were neatly stacked and marked where they waited for him to review them yet again. Most were likely to backfire, especially now. This was an outright assault in the eyes of the king. No different from the one a few years back.

His father seemed convinced that the Licorice Tribe had been behind it and would no doubt make the same assumption this time as well. Dark Choco had his doubts after seeing the village mostly abandoned. Though most of the books were folktales from his own tribe or other neighbors, there were a few accounts discussing the sea and its blatant favoritism. How it reacted on its own to the feelings of the Tribe it was rumored to have spawned itself. If that were true, then the Sea could have been responding to its people's fears, frustrations, and uncertainty.

‘Was this my fault?’ The thought strikes him suddenly, settling like a stone in his chest. He had entered the tribe recently. Had he spooked the resident so badly that the Sea decided to eliminate the perceived threat? That very threat being himself? The chill burrows deep into his bones, claws holding tight around his thumping heart. Squeezing it tight as he realizes he may have put his people in harms way. 

But Dark Choco shakes his head. Why would it wait so long to attack if that were the case? He hadn't been to the village in over a week. Surely by now the resident tribe member had calmed down. Besides, he had done his research, or researched what little they had about the Sea and the Licorice Tribe itself. Unless the resident told the sea that he'd broken into their home, he wasn't sure how the Sea would even know he had been there…

It was all so... Strange. The other watchers had reported the same feelings he and Caramel Arrow had experienced but had been frozen earlier. Only himself, the First Watcher, and the soldier on the docks weren't immediately affected. It painted an eerie picture, baiting them outside with Doppio only to let the soldier escape once both targets came outside the walls. Chills swept down his spine as he recalled the eerie blue eyes watching his every move. The oozlings in the village had watched him and Caramel Arrow the entire time. 

Such an unsettling thought, but it did make him wonder.

He had very little knowledge about how they communicated. Could the monsters relay information to the sea itself? His head hurts just trying to understand it. Fighting and interacting with people came naturally to him, learning about the arts and politics and managing the country were things he either had to or enjoyed learning, but magic? Magic was always the hardest thing for him to grasp the concept of. Somehow both vague and precise, loose rituals held together by threads of magic or exact calculations to optimize power coexisting in a way they shouldn't. So flimsy yet reality bending at the same time.

Tapping his fingers against the desk, he turned back to the window as his mind wandered. He'd wanted this room back when he was a child because he could sometimes see strange lights down by the water. It was a ritual site, as he knew now. But back then to a child like him who hadn't been aware, it was just magical. They were always so faint, far away, but the room's high vantage gave him a slight view on those rare nights like tonight where the snow gave their kingdom a brief reprieve.

The scent of licorice and sea salt hangs in the air, blown into his window by a crisp sea breeze. Despite the cold Dark Choco just left it open. Like a reminder of his current goal. He wanted, no, needed to find a way to open the gates again. The Sea's assault may have frightened his father into tightening the noose around their city but after years of sneaking out, Dark Choco knew how to slip free from it. If there was anything he'd learned from that night then it was how trapped they truly were inside the Citadel.

The Sea could wait them out of it truly wanted. 

It could calculate.

Trick or lure them out.

Starve them out…

How long before it learned to cut off their trade routes? To circumvent their defenses? How intelligent was a writhing mass of living black water anyway? If it was that smart, why hadn't it acted before? He had far too many questions and nothing to answer them. But he knew roughly where to find the answers. He just had to get there again.

Glancing across his sparsely decorated room, Dark Choco’s eyes fell on the cabinet that he kept his personal Watcher uniform hidden behind. Despite numerous searches, his father never really thought to move the furniture. Whether it was some form of respect towards him and his personal space or simply an oversight, Dark Choco didn't know. But thanks to that, he'd managed to hide his method of sneaking out.

It was always easier to slip out during the early morning rather than the dark of night. The nighttime Watch always had a harder time due to the Sea being most active in the dark. By the time morning came, the stress of a possible attack left most of them mentally drained even on quiet nights. That was when he slipped through one of the gates, when the Watchers changed shifts at dawn. Surely the Sea's stillness and the fear it instilled would make them more oblivious than normal.

Though he pitied them, he had to do it if he wanted to do something about their kingdom's sorry state. And for once, he may finally have a lead. Glancing back to the sea, something caught his eye. A flicker on the water. The faintest gleam of blue light dancing across the distant waves only served to prove the still water at the wall was an intentional threat. Someone was doing a ritual. And he would find out who.

With the newfound confidence that he was right, Dark Choco allows himself the luxury of rest. He extinguishes the candles, and throws himself into bed. The window stays open. He'll need the light of dawn to wake him if he wants to sneak out on time.

When he finally does wake, the sound of rolling waves greets him.

Chapter Text

Rolling waves woke him, freezing water lapping at his sides as the tide ran ashore. Grains of sand worked their way between cloth and skin. It itches. A lot actually. But try as he might, his limbs refused to work with him in his bleary state. As if an unseen force held him down. So he tried to listen instead.

Aside from the waves crashing against the shore and his own shallow breathing, there wasn't a single sound. Birds didn't chirp. Wind didn't blow. No noise sounded from patrols as he would expect. Not a peep could be heard, as if the sea had swallowed it all. His only choice was to lay still in oppressive silence.

Where was he? How did he get here? How long had he been here? Wracking his brain, Dark Choco tried to recall what brought him to this place. He'd snuck out again, dressed as a member of the Watchers. Rather than risk being spotted by anyone he opted to sneak through the gate to the seaside dock. Overconfidence led him to believe he could make it if he skirted along the wall across the damaged part of the dock. Especially since the sea had calmed after the faint reflection of lights on the water were seen last night.

Had he slipped? Fallen into the water and washed ashore somewhere? It was a miracle that he hadn't drowned or been torn apart by the beasts in the depths. Yet somehow his clothes were still dry and he doubted that he had fallen in. Maybe he'd be able to figure out what happened once he could gauge his surroundings. Now, if only his frozen limbs would work with him. But try as he might, his arms and legs stayed stiff. All he could do was count the seconds ticking by, letting the cold seep deeper into his bones.

At three hundred seventy two seconds, he caught the faint sound of laughter in the distance. Clearly a young child, light and mirthful. It grew steadily closer with the crunch of sand under their feet until they let out a subdued gasp from above him. “Ohhh… hi friend. Are you sleeping?”

Dark Choco wants to tell them he's not sleeping. That he needs help and they should find an adult to help him. He just can't. Now that he's more aware, it's almost guaranteed that his paralysis is from something… supernatural. Try as he might, not a single finger would twitch under the freezing weight suffocating him. Even his voice wouldn't work, the cold clamped around him like a vice, leaving him pinned.

When Dark Choco didn't respond, a small finger prodded his cheek repeatedly. “Wakey, wakey… wanna Shroomie?” Before he could process why a young child was alone so close to the Licorice Sea, a shrill voice sounded nearby. 

“YOU!!” The newcomer shouted as the crunch of sand underfoot approached. They panted, flustered and frustrated as if they'd run all the way here. “Geez… how… how are you so da- uh, darn slow one second.. and… and then gone the next?” There's a pause as they catch their breath.

“I made a new friend!” The kid chirps, completely unphased by the scolding.

“You wha- WOAH!! NO!! DON'T TOUCH THAT!” The stranger shrieks in alarm. The warmth of the kid's small hands is ripped away so fast, it makes Dark Choco worried for their safety. But their mellow voice just gives a drawn out, “Awwww.” It seemed unlikely they were hurt. 

“Do NOT ‘aww’ me! I tell you all the time not to touch things that wash ashore! Especially dead things! I can barely afford to take care of us as is! I don't need you getting si-” The child's guardian snaps, cutting themselves off mid sentence as it clicks in Dark Choco's mind. They genuinely thought he was dead.

There's a long pause and he almost wonders if this person genuinely left. He could only hope not, for fear he'll be swallowed up by the sea the moment they leave. That it would really kill him this time. The silence stretches for a moment before he hears shuffling. “...hmm. Wait. Is this guy wearing a Watcher's uniform?” Something jabs at his back while the stranger speaks. 

“What's that?” 

There's another pause, then a resigned sigh. “The guys who guard the Citadel.”

“Oh… I dunno what that is.” The kid chirps cheerfully, completely unphased by anything happening. Their lack of awareness felt a bit off to Dark Choco, but he couldn't exactly ask even if he wanted to.

A groan escaped their guardian, more tired than anything. It must be common for this kid to forget things. “Remember that big, black wall across the bridge? The one you said was a million shroomies tall?” A sharp, amazed gasp sounded immediately. Fabric rustled wildly as the kid's guardian yelped. “Oi! No! Stop squirming before I drop you!”

“Are we gonna take our friend home?” The kid asks as the struggling dies down. 

“...Yeah. Sure. Probably the safest idea so more of them don't come crawling around here looking for the guy. We can just dump him on the bridge while the shift is changing and leave.” Relief washes over Dark Choco. Even though the stranger clearly believed him to be dead, he was still going to get him away from the sea. It wasn't ideal to be dumped right back where he started, but he'll take it over being eaten alive by sea monsters any day.

Contrary to his hopes of leaving swiftly, the stranger puts their hands on his side, rolling the prince over. Even on his back, everything is black. It was safe to say his eyes were closed. Not that it would have mattered much when something was hurriedly tossed over his face. Right. He had to keep reminding himself they thought he was dead. 

The sharp ‘shing’ of his sword being drawn caught his attention. “Hmm… I wonder how much this is worth? Looks pretty basic, but a Cacao warrior sword is pretty sturdy. Might get a few hundred.” Oh. He's being robbed. Wonderful. And as if that weren't bad enough, the kid also joins in. They hum a little tune as they check his wrists while their guardian pats down his chest.

“Oh!! What's that?” The kid chirps, grabbing at something near his waist. The simple pendant hanging there disappears in an instant. Heat surged in Dark Choco's chest, a simmering rage at this blatant theft. Sure, the pendant wasn't much. A cheap charm from a stall set up during a festival. But it had been a gift from his father before the paranoia took him over.

“Hmm. It doesn't look like much, but it's probably got some resale value… take it. Not like he needs it anyway.” 

The kid gives an enthusiastic, “Okay!” as they pocket it. The simple joy in their voice only made the anger in Dark Choco’s chest burn hotter. Not towards the kid. They were innocent in this, even if they were helping steal his things. But he cursed their damned guardian. For the theft, the humiliation… even just breathing at this moment. No one in this kingdom should have the gall to rob a member of the royal family. Yet here was this guy, checking his shoes for hidden coin and pocketing whatever they could.

As he tried to curl his fingers into a fist, they twitched for the first time. That numbness crushing him like a vice had lightened considerably. His heart leapt in his chest, but the joy was short-lived. That exhausted voice pierced the air, “There, let me just fix his clothes and we can go… augh, this is going to suck.” The complaining started immediately, and Dark Choco tried to turn his head. When that didn’t work, he willed his eyes open only to fail again. 

“Here, carry this for me.” The robber states, a happy affirmation coming from their charge as something is passed to them. Then his arm is grabbed, slung over a thin shoulder, and held fast as the stranger slowly stood. “Ugh, da-, uh, darn… I'm regretting this already. He's so heavy… guess it's good rigor mortis hasn't set in yet. It would be way worse on those stairs. Oh witches, I forgot about those stairs.”

The robber moved slowly, their body shaking under his weight as he's dragged down the beach. Part of him wanted to grin, the strain in their voice easing his frustration from the earlier humiliation. The other part simply pitied them. After all, they were still helping him even if they did rob him. 

“Why don't you just make our friend fly? You do it with stuff at home all the time?” The kid asked, dragging whatever large object they were holding with them. It slid through the sand with occasional crunches or scrapes from rocks echoing down the quiet beach.

“Cause… uh,” The robber tried to respond, gasping for breath. They kept walking, a few more tries to speak faltering before the ground underfoot changed to solid stone. Dark Choco is dropped roughly to the ground, any pity he might have felt dumped along with his limp body. Clothes rustle as the robber all but collapses beside him, panting heavily. 

After a short break, he's picked back up. This time, they loop their arms under his armpits. If they were slow before, it was worse now. Each flight of stairs was climbed at a snail's pace, accompanied by quiet cussing, complaining, or the child's chatter. They stopped at each and every landing, taking at least a fifteen minute break if he'd counted right. Each time, the feeling slowly returned to his body. Yet he forced himself to stay limp.

Not for any serious reason. Not even to be petty or because Dark Choco thought a little suffering was what the thief deserved for making him freeze while looting all his valuables. Just… he had the unsettling fear that this guy might throw him down the stairs they were climbing if he made any sudden movements. So he waited, letting the feeling return to his limbs.

The moment they reach the top, he's dropped to the ground once more. An audible groan escapes the robber as they collapse beside him. It just now occurs to Dark Choco how casual this thief is around someone he presumed dead. What kind of person could sit so calmly beside someone they thought was a corpse? Did he usually rob dead folks? A grave robber maybe?

“Ohhh witches, I've never regretted anything this much…Why did I decide to carry this guy up here?” Another complaint followed by a soft ‘Thump!’ comes from beside the prince.

“This guy is way too comfortable around dead things.” Crosses his mind again before it's roughly shoved aside. Instead, Dark Choco debates the safety of moving now as the last of the numbness fades from his body. The chill he felt turned to bitter, burning ice freezing down to the core. Carefully, as subtle as possible, the prince curls and uncurls his fist. An attempt to warm up his stiff limbs. 

“...Huh? What're you doing?” The thief says and for a moment Dark Choco feared he was caught. Light giggles followed by a yelp come beside him. “Ghh, ow! Don't just throw yourself on me! It's not funny. I'm already sure I'm not gonna be moving tomorrow!”

More giggling comes from the kid as they speak, “But I'm cold! Cold! The spores say you're warm. I wanna be warm.” Curiosity gets the better of him and he cracks an eye open just enough to make out the blur of purple sprawled across grey. The child is small, young and bright with arms wrapped around the thief's neck. He can't make out their face or the face of their guardian through the mop of lilac curls on their head.

“Then get off so we can get home. I'm the one drenched right now and I don't wanna get sick.” When the kid doesn't immediately move, their guardian pats them on the back. “C’mon, up, up! Let's go. Gotta stop at home to find the sled. It'll be so much easier to carry this guy that way.” A moment passed before the kid grumbled something Dark Choco didn't catch, then slowly pushed themself up. Only then did he close his eyes.

The thief gets up, and soon their hands grab him again. He lets them haul him off the ground, forcing himself to stay limp despite now being able to move. The closer they are, the easier it would be to overpower them. He waits a few moments, letting them drag him along. With his head down, he cracks an eye open to find his sword. It's loosely strapped around the thief's waist on their left hip over a dull, desaturated green jeogori partly hidden by a slate blue cloak.

Only when the child speaks again and distracts the thief does Dark Choco make his move. He finds his footing, ignoring the shock on the thief's face as their head snaps to him with wide eyes. His left hand bunches in their clothes, holding them steady while he yanks his blade from its sheath with a loud ‘shing!’ despite their immediate struggle. Startled yellow eyes barely visible under their hood meet his, glancing fearfully at the blade.

Thinking he had the upper hand, Dark Choco opened his mouth to speak. The sharp crackle buzzing in the air accompanies narrowed eyes. His hand is grabbed then, a sharp, burning surge pouring into his body. He jerks away and the thief spins on his heel towards the direction they came. Their accomplice watches with excited but dazed eyes, dragging a large scythe too big for them through the snow. 

Dark Choco lunges despite the dizziness the shock brought. Adrenaline fueled him, closing the gap quickly to keep the mage from their weapon. He recalls somewhere in his head that most mages have a support of some kind, an object to channel their magic through. Letting them get to it couldn't happen. 

The two of them tumble through the snow, grappling in a desperate attempt to subdue the other. He'd dropped his blade to avoid risking a fatal injury to either of them, bracing for another shock as he tried to pin their hands to their back. His other hand clamped over their mouth, grateful for the scarf covering it to make biting him harder.. If a mage couldn't speak or gesture, then they couldn't cast a spell. Or so he'd been taught. It seemed to work though, the crackling electricity dying down as their struggles reduced to desperate squirming.

That kid trots up to them then, still smiling. “Ohhh… are we playing? I wanna play!” They kneel in the snow, looking at their guardian expectantly and Dark Choco can't help but note how the thief relaxes in the kid's presence. 

Seeing an opportunity, Dark Choco also loosens his grip just enough to be firm but not crushing like it had been. “I’m sorry, but I truly mean you no harm. I would just like my belongings back. I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth now, but do not try to cast a spell.” He waits for the nod they give before slowly pulling his hand away.

“Get the fuck off of me! I dragged your dead weight all this way, have some gratitude!” The thief hissed, trying to tug their hands free -his? He sounded like a man to Dark Choco.

Scoffing, Dark Choco snapped back, “I am grateful to be here, but it does not change your crime. Were you aware it can be considered treasonous to steal from a member of the Watchers?” His captive growls -growls- at him threateningly. 

Before either of them could say more, the kid pats Dark Choco on the shoulder. Their voice sounds a bit upset as they say, “C’mon… friends don't hurt each other. Lico, be nice… nice makes friends.” Big purple eyes give their guardian a pleading look. The man -Lico- flinches at their distressed gaze, but gives a long, drawn out sigh.

“Okay, okay. I'll be nice if he gets off of me. It hurts and I'm freezing!” He complains, flinching again as Dark Choco's grip tightens reflexively. But then the hand around his wrists lets him go and he quickly scrambles away to a safe distance. 

Dark Choco is already on his feet, retrieving his weapon. Lico flinches, reaching for his charge under the prince's softer gaze. He pulls the kid close protectively, the child immediately turning around to snuggle into his embrace obliviously. His blade stays pointed down as he picks up the scythe. Its solid bone handle surprises him and closer inspection shows the entire thing is carved from massive bones, save for the dark spiral at the top held in place by thick rope.

“That's mine.” The thief says, caution lacing his tone as he watches every move. 

“I'll trade for my sheath and the pendant you stole. The money and dagger you may keep as repayment for saving my life… unintentional as it was.” He offers, the deal was more than fair, but he did recall the man mentioning his lacking funds. A few coins lost was nothing in return for his survival. His gaze swept over the pair, those yellow eyes cautiously scrutinized him so he added, “Your son should not starve for your stupidity.”

“SON?? How old do you think I am?!” Lico chokes on his own shock as he yells, instinctively covering the child's ears.

Dark Choco can only raise an eyebrow at the outburst, “If they are not your child, then what are they to you?” He watches the thief's shoulders hunch as he speaks, their head kept down to shield their face. It was hard to tell if the man was lying to him like this. The only reason he assumed they were related was the affection the kid seemed to have for their guardian.

“Little brother. Not like it's any of your business! Now give me my scythe and get lost.” His tone quickly becomes annoyed by the pestering as he stands up and extends a hand for the weapon. Almost defensive as the thief removed the sheath and coaxed the pendant from the kid's hand. The items were tossed recklessly on the ground at his feet.

Dark Choco can't help but grin. “Awful demanding for a thief caught red-handed, aren't you?” Despite his teasing, he holds the scythe out. Lico grabs it warily. When he tries to take it, Dark Choco holds on. The thief's frustrated growl only makes the satisfied grin widen. “C'mon, take it.” It may be petty to tease someone like this, but he was merely venting his only feelings over the humiliation he'd endure. 

“Bastard! Let go!” Despite the other's attempts to pry his fingers off, Dark Choco held on until the frustration in his chest lightened. By the time he relinquished the scythe, the other's hands were shaking. 

Concern bubbled in his chest this time as he remembered the guy had carried him all this way already. Sweat soaked through the edges of his jeogori, a shiver just beginning now that the man had calmed down. Even the kid practically glued to their brother's leg was yawning now. It reminded Dark Choco that he had no clue how long he'd been spellbound for.

Tipping his head back, the smile fell. A pinkish purple tint covered part of the ever clouded sky, dulled by the falling snow. It was getting dark out now. “Ah… it's getting dark now. Say, if you live near here, could I-” Dark Choco doesn't get to finish before he's interrupted. 

“No!”

“Yesss!!” Lico flinches, glancing towards his charge who responds with, “It'll be like a sleepover!” The man deflates, exhausted and resigned to the child's whims.

“...one night, just one.” The man insists.

Nodding, Dark Choco agrees, “Just one. Then I'll go.” He planned to ignore them, just rest in their home. But as he followed the siblings into their home, he couldn't help finding it familiar. Far too familiar. In a place they shouldn't have been. Of course he tried to ask, but Lico ignored every attempt as he fed and put his brother to bed, locking the door to his room behind him.

Tomorrow then. He tells himself. He'll question why the two are living in the abandoned Licorice village in the morning.

Chapter Text

Footsteps thudded through dark halls, servants and soldiers alike flitting about in a nervous swarm. Checking every room, every hall, behind and inside cabinets, shelves, wherever they thought a man as big as the prince could hide inside. Ridiculous as it was, Caramel Arrow walked past it all with a face as straight as she could muster. With boiling anger bubbling beneath her skin, she struggled to maintain her neutrality, her professionalism. But the thought of her big, lovable, stupid, idiot- 

Shaking her head, she fixed the scowl on her face. Dark Cacao had summoned her to his study. Not even the throne room, but his own personal space. It was about the missing prince, it had to be. Undoubtedly. For all his harsh words, anyone within the kingdom could see he truly cared for his son. Everyone except Dark Choco himself.

Her mind wandered back to the prince again. She's already sure he's slipped past the gates. Probably gone during the morning shift change. An eye twitched, teeth grinding, at the thought that he hadn't waited for her. Hadn't even informed her he was planning to leave. Still, she already knew where he was likely headed.

Her thoughts and feet came to a dead stop outside of the heavy, wooden door to the king's study. Steeling herself, she knocked loud and firm on it. It opened a moment later, an unwanted face peering at her with narrowed white eyes. 

“Well, well, if it isn't our First Watcher. His Majesty has been waiting for you.” Affogato chided as he stepped aside to allow her to pass. A perfectly manicured image of a dutiful aide, yet his dislike towards her shown in his scrutinizing gaze.

She returned the look with a stern, displeased one of her own before turning her full attention to her king. With folded hands, she gave a short bow. There's silence between, then his deep, tired voice states, “I take it you've not seen him either.”

“No, Your Majesty.” Comes the short reply, simple and to the point, lacking unneeded embellishments. Her gaze flickers to the wall behind him, adorned with various schematics and mostly blacked out paintings depicting simple faces. There's more. New ones. Including one on the desk, half painted. It makes her wonder just what they are, the faces resemble the monsters of the sea.

With a heavy sigh, Dark Cacao forgoes his more refined posture to prop his elbow on the desk and rest his forehead against his palm. He's careful to avoid the ink staining his fingertips. “That boy… ah, really. He must be beyond the wall by now. Though I suppose I was quite adventurous at his age once. If only he would be smarter about his timing, I fear he may lose his life poking around where he shouldn't.” That last line came with a pointed glare at her. More than enough to get the point across.

“I am sure he is well and will return soon.” The assurance is all she can think to say. 

“If I may,” Affogato pipes up, voice even as he tests the waters. “Perhaps you should allow him to roam, Your Majesty. After all, we had the Citadel locked down and yet… somehow he managed to slip through our fingers.”

His words shocked Caramel Arrow, forcing her to control her expression. Just last week he had been kissing up to the prince too. Now he wants to let him go free? With narrowed eyes and caution in her voice, she agreed. “For once we see eye to eye, though I doubt it is for the same reasons.”

“You doubt me, First Watcher? I'm hurt.” Feigning disappointment, Affogato pouted, carefully averting his eyes. A carefully crafted move for a self victimizing snake. 

“Yes. Am I being too subtle?” She quips back, relishing in the brief flash of uncertainty in his eyes. As usual, such bluntness could still catch him off guard even if only for a second. Though he recovered quickly, she spoke up again to keep him from intervening, “Your Majesty, His Highness truly wants to help the kingdom prosper, but feels there's little to do behind the wall.” Her words spark an interest in his tired, dazed eyes. Pride maybe? 

With a dismissive wave and closed eyes, he gestures to the door. “Affogato, leave us.” The advisor's smug grin drops immediately, his eyes wide as he glances at the king.

“Your Majesty?” There's a twinge to his usually confident voice as displeasure etched onto his features. It morphs quickly into faux concern, with furrowed brows and wary gaze.

“I merely wish to speak with the First Watcher about the incident once more.” Dark Cacao states with an air of finality. Another word of opposition would be treasonous. 

Taking the hint, Affogato bows. “I will return at your call, Your Majesty.” 

With that, he turned on his heel and left, taking extra care to close the door gently rather than slamming it like Caramel Arrow was sure he wanted too. She stared after him a moment, then faced her king. “About the incident, wha-” The second he held up a hand, she paused.

“It was an excuse to have a private conversation. You often accompany my son beyond the wall. I am well aware.” His hands fold on top of the desk, a stern gaze settled on the archer. She flinches despite having had suspicions that he knew of their occasional trips outside. 

“... I do. Though the prince is strong, anything can happen. I'd rather he come back alive.” She states, giving a slight nod as she glanced towards the shuttered windows. 

Dark Cacao nods along with her. A brief acknowledgement. “Then surely you know where he would be right now.” It's a statement, not a question. 

The confident assumption that she would know sits poorly in her gut. Truthfully, she isn't sure even if she has a hunch. He could have gone to any number of places in the kingdom after all. But of all places, and especially so soon after the Licorice Sea had acted up, there was one that struck her. One she probably shouldn't mention. 

“You seem to have somewhere in mind, First Watcher.” Dark Cacao's voice jolts her from her thoughts and she meets his gaze.

Choosing her words carefully, she responds, “I have a few places in mind. If Your Majesty permits it, I will leave immediately to search for the prince.” She keeps her expression neutral even as she curses Dark Choco in her head for his impulsiveness. Particularly for not speaking a word of his sudden escapade to her.

He stares at her for a long moment, studying her face curiously. Then he sighs, “Very well, bring him back within a week's time at most. I will consider the advice of both yourself and Affogato in the meantime. For now, I only wish to know if he is well.” There's a pause as Dark Cacao stares at the shuddered windows. Then, he adds, “If you two fail to return in a week, I will send more Watchers to find you as I initially intended.”

With a sharp nod and curt bow, she acknowledges her new assignment. “I shall see to it that His Highness returns safely.” She promises. Only when she's given permission does she rise and leave. Now with the king's backing, she can confidently pack her belongings and head out to the Licorice Village that's captured her prince's interest. Without a doubt, she knows that's where he would have gone.

—------------

A disgruntled ‘mrrp’ greets Licorice as he stirs slowly, morning sunlight blocked by a familiar silhouette. The white skull with large ears perked forward, it's forehead pressed to his temple and white pupils meeting his eyes. Bat Cat was clearly unhappy about something. He must've overslept to be met with such an accusatory stare.

“Bat-Cat?” He manages to say in his bleary, confused state. Heavy limbs and a deep-seated ache weight his mind down as if trying to drag him back into unconsciousness. 

With a low hiss and flared wings, the familiar returned the groggy greeting. “Meowssster…” It leaned in, giving a soft, unhappy nip to his nose. 

“OW!! YOU-” Licorice jumped, swatting at it instinctively, but the familiar just leapt into the air and hovered out of reach. The movement sent a sharp jolt through him and he cursed at the sudden pain. “Ow! Dammit! Why does it hurt so much?!” It’s the sort of pain from exertion, from pushing too far, and he watched Bat-Cat land on the nightstand. It gave a short chuckle at his suffering. Sadistic as usual. Yet one white paw gently pushes a ceramic cup his way.

As he brings it to his lips, the strong scent of ginger and tumeric hits. With a grimace, he downs it. It's chilled now, and exceptionally strong after steeping all night. Vaguely, Licorice remembers setting it up before collapsing into his bed once he was sure Poison Mushroom went to their room. Speaking of, “How's Shroomie? Still sleeping?” 

“Nyope! They're talking to the Watcher right now. I told them not to let him disturb you while you sleep. Kid has him pinned in the main room with a book about mushrooms.” Bat-Cat states, licking at its paws before glancing back its master's way. 

“What?! What Watcher?” The panic in his chest leaked through in his voice as he sat up again, feeling marginally better than when he first woke up. Frantic, he reached for his cloak and scarf. If Bat-Cat was being serious, then he couldn't let himself be seen. 

“The one you dragged back last night, remember Meowster? I asked if you were sure, and you said, ‘I’ll deal with him in the morning, guard the hallway’.” It's tail twitched in annoyance, a low growl sounding from deep in it's chest. With another ‘mrrp’ the familiar leapt onto the bed, sitting directly in front of its master. “I watched him all night. He just lit a purr-zier and slept under whate-fur blankets he could find. Though he immediately started going through your books this morning.”

Oh. Right. Now he remembers spending most of his day dragging the Watcher he originally thought was dead away from the beach. Stronger than the annoyance, frustration and humiliation boiled in his veins the more he recalled. The bastard had woken up at some point and still let himself be carried. And then had the audacity to attack after his gracious help? Pinned him down like a common criminal while he was exhausted from climbing those cursed stairs? 

Just the thought had Licorice gritting his teeth. He didn't know when the man woke up, but he's sure of one thing. Never again will he help someone on the beach. Now he's got a stranger in his home and has to chase him out. Sighing, he drags himself out of the bed and to the door. His heavy limbs make walking a nuisance, aching legs lagging a bit.

Once he's in the hallway, Poison Mushroom's voice echoes down the hall. It's faint, but the kid is clearly talking about mushrooms just from the sheer excitement in their voice. Honestly, he had expected the man to flee first thing in the morning. Not many wanted to stay in a town full of licorice monsters. 

As he hovers in the doorway quietly listening, he takes a moment to observe the Watcher. A lost helplessness settles over the man with shoulders sagging and brows knitted together in exasperation. He opens his mouth from time to time in an attempt to interrupt the excited child leaning into his side. The thick mushroom field guide in their small hands seemed comically large, hiding the kid from sight. Their chatter ensured every attempt ended up getting talked right over.

“-and there's these ones that glow in the dark but not super bright. I wish my shroomies glowed too… uh, maybe I can get them to glow, hehe… so they're extra pretty. And this one is good for, uh… medicine! Lico says it is, I dunno that stuff… but I like the shape. And-” As they ramble, the Watcher runs a hand through his long, dark hair, eyes closing as he tries to keep his composure. How long had Poison Mushroom had this guy pinned down for?

… It didn't really matter. Just the sight of the guy trying not to show regret for his choice was a balm for Licorice's own frustration. It served him right for overstaying his welcome. 

It's then that the man's eyes open. The sweeping gaze cast around the room briefly passed over Licorice before suddenly snapping back to him. Instinctively, he shrinks back, watching cautiously. As the Watcher perks up, so does Poison Mushroom. Their curious gaze followed their new friend’s to land on him as well.

“Lico’s up!” They shut their book and toss it to the Watcher as they slide off the couch. In seconds their small body barrels into him with arms wrapped tight around his waist. It almost knocks him over. A sharp gasp slips past his lips accompanying the strain on his sore body. But of course Poison Mushroom doesn't notice any of it as they hug him.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm up. Sorry it's so late.” He gives them a quick pat on the head, though his eyes stay fixed on the stranger. 

The Watcher stands and approaches, hands up in a surrender. The corners of his lips curl in a friendly smile. “I apologize if I frightened you.” The voice is low, gentle, careful. Like he's speaking to a frightened animal. The patronizing tone, intentional or not, only makes Licorice frown and sharpen his glare. 

To his credit, the Watcher seems genuinely confused by the hostility he's showing. It's… oddly sincere yet no less stressful for Licorice to face. Through gritted teeth, he hisses a curt, “Accepted, now get out.” The stranger's face falls, shoulders drooping. Was he really that disappointed to be chased out?

“Ah, I was hoping we could talk a little. I was wondering if you-” He tries again, only to be interrupted.

“No. Out!” Licorice repeats, his grip on Poison Mushroom tightening. The kid squirms in his hold and lets out a distressed squeak.

“...Lico! That's not how… you treat friends!” They protest loudly, once again imitating the same chastising tone he uses on them. “He promised to be… uh, good! Be… nice.”

“Why are you telling me off? Huh? How many times do I gotta tell you that strangers aren't friends? And I told you not to call me that.” He retorts, staring down at their wide purple eyes. They stare blankly back with a pout on their lips.

There's a pause, not a single thought crossing their dazed eyes. With a little hum, they state, “...I dunno. Forgot… but I made a new friend! The spores said it's okay…” Their dismissive shrug makes him want to hit his head off the wall. As usual, they choose only to answer half of his scolding as if it had no effect.

Licorice opens his mouth to argue back, but catches sight of the Watcher once more. The man is closer now. A worried glance flits between himself and Poison Mushroom as if afraid he would hurt them. That hits something in his chest, an offended scoff escaping before he can stop it. “Why are you still here? Huh? Get lost!”

“I was just wondering if you were from this village. I assure you, I mean no harm.” He starts, speaking more casually now. There's still a wariness about him as he straightens himself. Then he leans forward ever so slightly, carmine eyes meeting pale yellow for just a moment before Licorice pulls his hood further over his face.

The question catches Licorice off guard and he has to bite his tongue to avoid saying anything he'll regret. It takes a moment to think of a response, drawing a long, awkward silence between them. Finally he says, “...No. But it's none of your business anyway! Get out of my house!” He lifts one hand, sparks of dark electricity crackling to life in a clear threat.

Wide eyes stare at the sparks as the man processes the threat. His shoulders sag, smile faltering for just a moment. “Please, there's no need to threaten me. I want to help. My goal is to aid the kingdom however I can so if you could cooperate-”

“How about you help yourself out of my-!” He begins, only to cut himself off as Poison Mushroom wriggles out of his grip. He's not fast enough to catch them as they run fearlessly up to the stranger, hand in their sleeve. A small, pitted black mushroom is held out like an offering.

“Here friend… have a shroomie!” Poison Mushroom chirps happily as they stretch their arms as high as they can. Whatever tension ran between them lessened drastically, a small frown gracing the Watcher's lips as his brow furrowed.

Slowly, he reached out to take the black morel offered to him. Licorice could only sigh. Now there was no convincing them the Watcher wasn't a friend. Instead he turned on his heel and left. He refused to be in the presence of a nosy, good-for-nothing soldier longer than needed. Almost immediately, footsteps followed after him.

“See? We're… friends! He likes my shroomies…” Poison Mushroom insists. They trot after him through the halls, beaming like they just won the argument earlier. With a small gasp, they clap their hands together and add, “Maybe our friend wants a special shroomie? Mmmm… do you want a special shroomie Lico?” They reach back into their sleeve as they hum. 

Quickly, Licorice grabs their hand and holds it tight. He's rougher than he'd meant to be, but the kid doesn't even seem to notice as they blink owlishly at him. “Didn't I say not to give those to anyone else?”

“...Huh? Did you?” They ask, tilting their head.

With another nod, he leads them away from the Watcher while they're distracted. The man follows them cautiously, and Licorice tries to think of the best way to be rid of the Watcher without drawing attention to himself. Could he fake an accident or a mauling? The thought gave him a headache as he and Poison Mushroom went outside. “Most people can't handle those. You don't wanna make him sick, right?” 

They shake their head quickly, not looking convinced in the slightest that their toxic mushrooms would ever be harmful. As soon as they're outside, he let's go of the kid and immediately Poison Mushroom trots to the tub outside of the house with mushrooms in hand. The oozling in the bucket is the same one as always, large and dark with dull blue eyes. It stretches itself up to the surface to meet the kid, only to shrink back as they're swiped off their feet in one swift motion. A small puff of purple spores are left behind. Even Licorice jumps at the sudden shout.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” The Watcher shouts, alarmed. He's holding Poison Mushroom close now, backed against the wall as far as possible from the tub. “Do you know what that thing is? They're infamous for drowning anything that gets close to the water! Are you trying to get the kid killed?!” 

Ah, okay. Now that his brain was finally catching up, he could understand the panic. But it was quickly squished by the fury of someone else manhandling his kid. “It's fine! They're just feeding it!” He reaches out to grab them from the man. Faint bubbling and sloshing sounds from the tub as the oozling grows irate. Grabbing onto Poison Mushroom, Licorice glances back at it. “Stop it! You're just pissing it off! I'll be right beside them, they won't get hurt!” 

“I gotta give my friends shroomies!” Poison Mushroom protests, squirming in the Watcher's hold. Their arms flail and it doesn't take long to free themself between Licorice's attempts to pry them free and their own struggling. As soon as they're free, Licorice snatches them up and turns to the door. Only for them to fall as he's yanked back.

The Watcher holds tight, immediately grabbing his hands and covering his mouth. Clearly knowing better than to give him any chance to cast a spell. The water in the tub is frothing at this point, the oozling lurking dangerously close to the surface. Clearly his captor sees it too, his grip tighter as he tense in anticipation.

Thankfully Poison Mushroom is unharmed, though the short tumble left them a little bit dazed as they stumbled to their feet. Almost immediately, they tripped over the hem of their chima and landed face down in the snow built up on the porch. Quiet mumbling about the world spinning was all he could make out. 

“Shhh… please, relax. I apologize… I was worried for them.” The Watcher lowers his voice as his grip loosens. Not enough for Licorice to break free, but just enough to no longer hurt.

Licorice is sure it's only to placate him. To keep him from frying the bastard the moment he's free. Which didn't sound all that bad at this point. He's had more than enough of the guy by now. Witches, he regrets saving him. A body would have been far easier to deal with. But sure, he could play along. So he nods.

The Watcher's grip lessened more as he relaxed.”There. Have you calmed down?” He asks. The water churning in the tub settled as his sudden anger and panic simmered to a persistent anxiety, and Licorice glanced over to see those blue eyes watching them. It only looked away when Poison Mushroom finally managed to make the world stop spinning and offered it some mushrooms.

Finally, the Watcher let him go and he was quick to stumble away. He had enough sense to give Licorice some space, but still hovered anxiously. ‘The idiot really meant no harm, huh?’ He couldn't help but think that. Yet some paranoid part of him remained skeptical. After all, this guy was way too calm trotting around his village.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Licorice grabbed one of the man's hands. His eyes widened as the sparks started. Immediately, he jerked his hand away with a startled yelp as the shock did its job. It wasn't deadly. Not even strong enough to leave a permanent mark or nerve damage. He's trying to hurt the guy, not disabled him! But it should get his point across. But there's a brief moment where his red eyes flicker down the road.

With a shove, Licorice is sent sprawling. The fall jolts his sore body, but he keeps a hand on his hood. The last thing he needs it to be caught in his lie. He barely pieces together what exactly happened when he spots the figure down the road. Their weapon takes aim at him, but he doesn't wait for them to fire. Lunging, he grabs Poison Mushroom and hauls them into the house, shouting for Bat-Cat to lock the other door as the kid tries to protest.

The faint knocking barely registers, that Watcher calling out for him in a reassuring tone. And he ignores every word, retreating deeper into the old home.