Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was never unusual to find Octopus Cookie lost in prayer, whispering ancient words to the divine depths, offering seashells, salt crystals, and glowing anemones as tribute. It was a common sight, one that most of Sugarteara had grown used to. Octopus Cookie, hunched over the tide altar with their tendrils gently curled in reverence, the water lapping quietly around their robes. Most of these prayers, of course, were directed toward Sea Fairy Cookie, Queen of the Currents, the Eternal Tide, Mother of All Sea Cookies. To Octopus Cookie, she was more than a goddess; she was an origin, a calling, a presence as vast and ancient as the sea itself

But today was different

Today, they weren’t kneeling before the sugar altar or performing rites at the coral shrines scattered throughout the city’s submerged sanctuaries. No, today, Octopus Cookie had secluded themself in a newly constructed chamber, an empty, echoing room at the far edge of the temple complex, freshly carved from glimmering stone and bioluminescent coral. It was one of many additions to the temple, which had been growing alongside the city itself, as Sugarteara continued its slow, labyrinthine expansion through the ocean’s bright veins

This room was theirs alone, for now. It wasn’t meant to be. The council had intended to reserve the space for future rites, or perhaps another shrine to the Sea Fairy herself. Octopus Cookie had pleaded, gently but persistently, for a single day to claim the chamber, to make it something different, something new. It had taken convincing. After all, Octopus Cookie was not meant to be occupied with decoration or construction. They were a scholar-priest, a keeper of dreams and drowned memories. Their hands were meant for scrolls and ink, not incense and firestone

But lately, their studies had taken them to strange places

In their stolen hours, late at night when the temple was quiet and the coral lanterns pulsed dimly in their glass cages, Octopus Cookie had buried themself in old texts and forbidden waterlogged tomes, fragments of knowledge about the Elementals. Not just Sea Fairy Cookie, and not just Moonlight Cookie either. though the ties between those two had captivated Octopus Cookie for moons upon moons, their love written in tides and stars, impossible to unravel without glimpsing into the heart of the cosmos. No, Octopus Cookie had begun to turn their attention outward, upward, inward, toward the others

And so, it would have been far stranger if they had not grown curious. An octopus, after all, is a creature of infinite wondering, a mind split among arms, reaching always for what lies just beyond

That’s why they were here, surrounded by jagged shards of obsidian and scorched bones, building a shrine not to the sea, but to the flame

This room, once cold and empty, was slowly becoming a sanctum of chaos and heat. It smelled faintly of ash and iron. Octopus Cookie moved methodically, draping crimson silks over the walls, embedding glowing magma crystals into the stone with careful tentacle-work, arranging offerings of charred sugarwood and phoenix-feathers at the foot of the unlit brazier. Every movement was precise. Every decoration was chosen not for beauty, but for resonance, for truth

This was to be a shrine for Fire Spirit Cookie: the Flame Sovereign, Bringer of Heat, the untamable blaze that scorched even the heavens. A being as ancient as the Sea Fairy, but wildly different, where one brought serenity and dreams, the other brought fury and rebirth. Chaos and creation, destruction and divine will

As Octopus Cookie stepped back to survey their work, they could feel the clash of elements humming in the walls, sea and flame, moonlight and firestorm. A balance not yet reached, a tension not yet eased

But perhaps… that was the point

They offered no prayer yet. That would come later

For now, they simply stood in the sweltering hush of the unfinished room, breathing in the dry, mineral-sweet scent of heated stone. Though the flames dancing across the braziers were artificial, clever illusions woven from enchanted crystals and fire-infused algae, they shimmered with a convincing flicker, their glow painting restless shadows across the walls. Octopus Cookie could almost feel them licking at the edge of their consciousness, as if something unseen was watching from just beyond the veil, testing the room's dedication

Of course, they were still deep underwater. Technically. And that was the greatest irony of all, building a shrine for the embodiment of fire beneath the waves. It was a delicate balance of magic and engineering, sustaining heat in a realm where the sea reigned supreme. They couldn’t risk true flames here, not without catastrophe. But still… they had tried their best to evoke the chaos and warmth of Fire Spirit Cookie’s domain, and in the wavering crimson light, the room almost felt like it burned

Sweat clung to their brow, something they were utterly unaccustomed to. Octopus Cookie had never truly sweated before. Not in the cool, pressure-tempered halls of Sugarteara, where the sea kept everything in a constant state of hushed, chilled equilibrium. This room, however, broke the rules. It was positioned unusually close to the ocean's surface, a rare architectural decision approved only after long and heated debate with the temple architects. In fact, the uppermost dome of the chamber breached the water entirely, a smooth, iridescent bulb that glistened in the sun like a bubble rising from the deep

Up there, where air met sky, the very tip of the shrine had become an accidental haven. Birds, exhausted from their long flights across the horizon, had begun to rest on the warm, sun-baked stone. Curious otters floated by now and then, pawing at the strange surface. Even the occasional seal or turtle could be spotted lingering near the structure, as if drawn to its uncanny stillness. It was a meeting point between worlds, land, sea, and sky converging upon a single sanctified point. And below, deep in the temple’s heart, Octopus Cookie stood like a flicker of shadow, smiling

They were warm, too warm, but they didn’t mind. The heat was proof of their success. Proof that they had carved out a space for flame in a world of tide and memory

Their tendrils curled loosely at their sides, trembling with a sense of satisfaction. The room was not yet finished. There were still offerings to be prepared, rituals to be written, meanings to be deciphered. But it existed, now. It breathed

And that, they thought, was enough

For now

They had first learned of him through an old tale, half-forgotten, whispered like a ghost between the pages of salt-stained texts and deep-sea murmurs. A story of a cookie who struck a pact with the Great Red Dragon, surrendering everything, body, soul, even mortality itself, to become something else. A spirit. A demon. An elemental flame

It was strange, then. Ironic, even. That they now found themself building a shrine in honor of the very being they had been instructed to despise. Not in words, perhaps, but in silence, in omission, in the carefully curated teachings passed down through the sanctified halls of Sugarteara. The Sea had no love for Fire. That was simply known

And yet, the story stayed with them

It was a tragic tale. One soaked in sacrifice. The nameless cookie who had once been mortal was said to have consumed molten lava, willingly drinking down agony to be reborn. first as an orb of raw energy, and then as a being of pure flame, crowned not by lineage but by suffering. A trial by fire in the most literal sense. It was no wonder the ancient scrolls noted that even Sea Fairy Cookie, wise and unyielding as she was, admired Fire Spirit Cookie’s courage. They would have, too if they stood in her place, watching from her cold throne as someone rose from the ashes, untouched by fear

But even as they arranged another line of fire runes along the curved wall, something inside them twisted

A whisper. A warning

A voice not their own

It was familiar. One they had heard since childhood, murmuring in moments of hesitation, stirring in the tidepools of their dreams. It spoke again now, low and steady: “This is wrong. You've gone too far this time”

They paused, breath catching. The shrine, the heat, the flame, it all seemed to flicker, just for a second. But they shook it off. They always did

They had long stopped listening to that voice. It was not theirs. It never had been

A deity is a deity, after all, no matter how they came to be. No matter what fires forged them, what dragons anointed them, or what shadows whispered behind their name

In the end, reverence was reverence. And curiosity… curiosity was simply their nature.

And so, they silenced the voice, stuffed it back into the quiet corners of their mind where doubts were kept like wet stones, and turned toward the shrine of stained glass

It stood tall before them, a vibrant mosaic of reds and golds, flickering like captured fire even in the filtered blue of the ocean light. Every shard of glass had been placed by their own hands, carefully, reverently. It was not just a window. It was a doorway. A confession. A calling

They knelt before it, the stone warm beneath their knees, hands folding together in quiet ritual. Their gaze lifted to the image etched in flame and light, Fire Spirit Cookie, crowned in chaos, cloaked in burning glory. Their eyes softened. Curiosity shimmered there, but there was something else too. A gentler ache. A kind of love. Not the boundless, aching devotion they reserved for Sea Fairy Cookie, whose presence curled through their soul like the tide… but still, a monk’s love. Steady. Devout. Holy.

A monk, after all, does not choose where the divine dwells

They simply kneel when it calls

And so, in the silence of the chamber, with the artificial flames casting restless shadows on the glass, they began to pray:

“O eternal flame that burns beyond the stars,
If you hear me now,
Know that I reach with humble hands
Not to steal your fire,
But to dwell within its warmth

Let me be your devotee,
A child of your blazing truth

If there is mercy in your embers,
Let them wrap around me.
For I have known only cold…
And long to be consumed”

---

Fire Spirit Cookie soared across the scorched skies of Dragon’s Valley, a ball of flame being around his body, trailing molten streaks behind him as the blistering winds howled through jagged peaks. From above, the land below looked less like a valley and more like a wound, an open scar carved deep into the earth, eternally bleeding fire and ash. This was a place forged in agony, where the very air tasted of smoke and sulfur, and the sun itself seemed afraid to shine too brightly

They called it a land of ancient legends and unspeakable perils, and even that felt like an understatement

Encircled by monstrous volcanoes that rumbled like sleeping gods, Dragon’s Valley burned day and night. Its heart was a labyrinth of molten rivers and shifting stone, constantly reshaped by the whims of the earth. Fire geysers erupted in erratic patterns, belching flame into the sky with deafening roars. The soil here wasn’t just fertile, it was alive, pulsing with seismic energy. One moment, the ground might be solid beneath your feet; the next, it would crack open into a yawning chasm, devouring anything bold or foolish enough to tread carelessly

And yet, amidst this chaos, life thrived

The Mala Tribe, fearsome warriors of fire and fury, had made this land their home. Born of ash and raised in flame, they feared nothing and revered only strength. It was here, in the heart of inferno, that Fire Spirit Cookie had carved his own dominion. Not by bloodline or prophecy, but by sheer force of will

Still, even he was not the true master of this realm

The Red Dragon ruled here, Pitaya Dragon Cookie. The ancient being who had once gifted Fire Spirit Cookie his powers… and who reminded him of that fact every chance they got. Their bond was complicated. Cursed, almost. Part mentor, part rival, part chain. The Red Dragon had not given him fire out of kindness, it had been a transaction, a gamble, and perhaps, in some ways, a punishment

The name “Dragon’s Valley” came not from its people, but from that colossal beast who slumbered somewhere in the deepest pits of magma, curled beneath layers of molten rock and resentment

Fire Spirit Cookie scowled as he flew, the heat from below licking at his skin, not that it bothered him. This land matched his mood. Violent. Burning. Lonely.

It wasn’t easy being the youngest of the Elementals. The others had existed since time was soft and unshaped. Sea Fairy Cookie’s name was sung by waves and whispered in the tide. Moonlight Cookie danced through the dreams of mortals like a myth they wanted to believe in. Even Wind Archer, cold as he was, had forests that breathed his name

But him? Barely two centuries old. Still a flicker in the grand timeline of the cosmos. The ancient texts exaggerated, glazed over the truth, claiming he stood beside the others as their equal in age and wisdom. But that was a lie born of reverence or fear. Fire Spirit Cookie had not earned his legend yet. He was power, but power unproven, flame without history

And it showed

Few shrines. Fewer worshippers.

Not that he needed them. Not that he cared.

Still… sometimes, flying above this infernal land, even with the fire roaring beneath him and his name etched into the stones, he couldn’t help but feel the echo of something hollow

Was he feared? Certainly!

But was he loved?

He wasn’t sure.

So when it happened, when something tugged at his chest like an unseen hook, he froze mid-flight

The air around him, once blistering and thick with smoke, suddenly felt thin. Cold, even. It was as though the flames had dimmed for a heartbeat, the very heat of Dragon’s Valley flickering out of sync. For a terrifying moment, he felt displaced, as if he’d slipped into some pocket of the world that didn't belong to him

But no, he was still here. Of course he was!

There was no way magic or divine intervention worked that fast. And Timekeeper Cookie had learned the hard way not to try pulling her little tricks on him again, last time, he’d nearly scorched her hourglass and singed half her smug little smile off

So then… what was this?

Then he heard it

Soft. Distant. Delicate as a calm river, yet unmistakable

His name

Spoken in reverence

Prayers.

Actual prayers. The first in… what? A century? Maybe longer? The voice was unfamiliar, trembling with devotion, laced with warmth and something that almost tasted like longing. He didn’t recognize the speaker, but he could feel the thread, the tether, stretching across the realms, pulling him toward the source like a coal drawn to oxygen

And that’s when his heart sank

The origin wasn’t just distant. It was forbidden

The ocean.
Worse, her ocean.

And nestled within it, like a pearl wrapped in danger, was the city of Sugarteara. A place called a paradise, sealed away beneath divine grace. A city ruled- no, protected by the one goddess he wanted nothing to do with

Sea Fairy Cookie

Fire Spirit Cookie’s lips curled into a grimace. The very idea made his flames hiss in protest. What kind of desperation would drive someone from that place to call him?

Him, the outcast, the flame without worship, the exile from the sea’s gaze

He clenched his fists, the heat around him reigniting in a furious flare. He couldn’t answer. Not immediately. Not now. He was fire, pure, untamed, and elementally incompatible with everything that city stood for. The ocean would not welcome him, it would extinguish him for Sugar Swan’s sake!

He wasn’t being dramatic. Technically speaking, entering Sugarteara could kill him. Or worse, reduce him to a spark, a whisper, a forgotten ember drifting along the seabed

And yet...

Someone had reached out

To him

He hovered in the burning sky, torn between pride and something softer, more dangerous. Curiosity

Had they made a mistake?

Or was there truly someone down there, beneath the crushing waves and divine silence, willing to invite the flame into their sacred waters?

He exhaled slowly, and for the first time in a long while, the fire within him flickered with uncertainty.

…

Why was he hesitating?

He was Fire Spirit Cookie, THE eternal flame, the living inferno, the one who scorched mountains and split the sky with heat. A little water couldn’t hurt him, right?

He scoffed at himself, shaking off the creeping doubt

”Come on” he muttered, then shouted aloud with blazing bravado ”DON’T BE A COWARD, FIRE SPIRIT COOKIE!”

The words echoed off the volcanic cliffs, bold and ridiculous, but it made him grin. He let out a laugh, loud, sharp, defiant
and without giving himself another moment to overthink, he rocketed forward, a comet streaking toward the edge of the sea

Still…

He had to admit, the idea of being submerged, completely swallowed by cold, endless water, was a little… unsettling. Not terrifying, of course! Just…

Unchilling. That’s all.

Chapter Text

It took him longer than expected to reach the source of the soft-spoken prayer

Much longer

The voice, fragile, reverent. Had drifted from a place almost on the other side of the world. Far from Dragon’s Valley, far from anything familiar. Of course it had. The Elementals were never ones for closeness. Each had carved their own domain into the corners of the world, isolated and distant, not out of necessity, but caution. Especially when it came to him

Fire Spirit Cookie had a reputation. Too volatile, too unpredictable, too hot-headed- literally. No one wanted him too close. Not Sea Fairy, whose realm would boil at his touch. Not Moonlight, who found him "too loud" for the delicate silence of dreams. Not even Wind Archer, who resided in the dense, ancient forest of the Millennial Tree. Technically the closest neighbor. Technically...

He snorted at the thought

He wasn’t allowed in that forest anymore. Something about "corrupting the balance" or "endangering sacred life". Whatever. That didn’t stop him from occasionally dropping in just to ruffle Wind Archer’s feathers. The way his old companion would go rigid, furrow his brow, and immediately start launching purifying arrows at him was almost endearing. Almost. It was practically tradition at this point!

He was sure Wind Archer hated him. Absolutely, irreversibly despised him.

But that never stopped the fire

The furthest domain, naturally, belonged to Moonlight Cookie. Her realm was literally unreachable, locked within the ever-shifting realm of dreams. You couldn’t just walk into it. She had to bring you in, and even then… he couldn't imagine why ANYONE would want to. What was the appeal? To spy on some cookie’s fantasies of flying around or striking it rich? Or worse, those dreams. The ones best left unspoken. No thank you.

Dreams were messy, fragile, and far too sentimental. He had no interest in sifting through the subconscious wishes of strangers

And yet here he was, traveling across the world on the thread of one whispered prayer. One spark of devotion in a sea of silence

At last, he came to rest atop a hardened outcropping of sea salt. It jutted from the waves like a jagged tooth, pale and brittle, barely large enough for him to sit comfortably. He hadn't expected there to be anything here. Especially not something solid enough to hold him. The ocean had a way of denying him even the most basic courtesy. Maybe this was a peace offering?

Or a trap...

He folded his legs beneath him, the salt hissing faintly as his heat made contact. He sat still, eyes narrowing as he cast his senses outward, feeling for that faint ember of faith he’d followed all this way

And now came the hard part

How was he supposed to reach this cookie? This small voice lost beneath leagues of saltwater and silence?

He couldn’t exactly waltz into Sugarteara uninvited. Not unless he wanted to start an elemental war, or evaporate himself by accident

But the prayer had been real

And prayers… deserved answers

Even if he had to get a little creative...

Octopus Cookie waited

And waited

And waited still

Their eyes kept drifting to the ornate clock hanging neatly on the wall, custom-made to match the rest of the shrine’s warm, fire-kissed décor. Gilded edges, crimson hands, and a subtle flicker beneath its glass surface to mimic flame. It ticked on with an almost mocking rhythm, each second a reminder of silence

Nothing

They folded their hands in their lap, trying to remain composed, but the silence was starting to press in. Maybe... maybe he didn’t like it... The Eternal Flame, Fire Spirit Cookie, perhaps he was displeased? The colors weren’t vivid enough? Was it the arrangement of the candles? The temperature? The energy?

No, they thought with a sudden jolt. It’s the obsidian. There’s not enough obsidian. That must be it. Flames were drawn to black, glossy things, weren’t they? Dark objects… no, not just objects- crystals! Crystals. Of course! How could they forget something so obvious?

They frowned, a creeping chill brushing the edge of their thoughts

Their memory had been slipping lately. Ever since they devoted themselves fully to priesthood… it had been fading, bit by bit, like ink bleeding into water. Some days, it was barely noticeable. Other days, they couldn’t even remember what they had eaten for breakfast, or whether they had spoken aloud or only dreamed of doing so

With a soft sigh, they pushed themselves up from the shrine’s mosaic floor, slowly, reverently. The mosaic had taken them weeks, to finish. A swirl of reds, golds, and smoky blacks that depicted the Fire Spirit wreathed in eternal motion. They bowed deeply to it, head nearly touching the warm tiles

They turned on their heels and padded toward the door, the flame-glow of the shrine flickering gently against their back. Before stepping out, they looked over their shoulder one last time, hesitant. Their fingers lingered on the edge of the door before they shut it, clicking the lock in place with a quiet finality

No one could know about this place.

If anyone found out...

Their breath hitched for a moment, and they instinctively touched a hand to their side, where old scars still ached when they moved too fast

No, they thought. No more of that. Not again. Never again.

They paused in the hallway.

...

What were they just thinking about...?

The thought had slipped away again, trailing into the shadows like a fish darting beneath the waves

Then- ah! Right. Obsidian!

They clapped their hands together softly and began walking, faster now, their steps echoing faintly through the stone corridors. A few of the younger nuns were fond of collecting pretty little rocks, they’d know where to find more obsidian. They’d help. They always smiled around Octopus, even if they didn’t understand them

Fire Spirit Cookie would come. He had to.

Maybe he just needed the right gift. The right warmth.

Something black and beautiful enough to catch the attention of a god...

Chapter Text

That had taken them... What? An hour? Two? Maybe more

By the time Octopus Cookie finally made it back to the hidden prayer room, the obsidian clutched gently in their hands, the corridors of the temple were already steeped in the hush of evening. The journey had taken far longer than expected, not because of the obsidian, no, the younger nuns had been more than generous, offering up their prettiest volcanic finds with bright eyes and eager hands

No, the real delay came when those same nuns were intercepted- ambushed, really, by a cluster of older monks who had insisted Octopus attend a local school event "A public speech!" they’d said "You’d inspire the children!"

Octopus hadn’t even had time to protest before they were gently, but firmly, herded away from the shrine-bound corridor and into a sunlit lecture hall full of wide-eyed students. The entire event was a blur. A haze of smiles, light laughter, and spiritual platitudes. Honestly, they couldn't recall what they’d said. But judging by the applause and the soft laughter of the little cookies in the front row, they must have done alright

Still, the weight of the obsidian in their palms grounded them

Smooth. Cold. Glossy and deep, like night itself. A precious shard of an underwater volcano’s fury, born just a few weeks ago from the earth’s molten blood. It felt right.

Perfect for Fire Spirit.

They crept back to the door with practiced care, unlocking it as quietly as they could. The prayer room greeted them with its soft, flickering glow. Quiet. Sacred. Secret. They had just barely stepped inside, fingers fumbling behind them to relock the door when-

CRASH!

Glass shattered

The sound was sharp, brutal. It cut through the silence like a scream. Octopus Cookie gasped, their head snapping toward the source instinctively

The stained-glass mural

The one they had labored over for weeks. A vivid, glowing depiction of Fire Spirit Cookie in his eternal glory, now destroyed. The fragments glittered on the floor like fallen stars. In the center of the wreckage was something dark. A rock?

"Hello? Is anyone in there?" A voice called from the other side of the door. Masculine. Unfamiliar...

Their three hearts pounded wildly.

No one was supposed to know about this place. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"Octopus? You in there?" the voice asked again, more insistent this time, a few knocks tapping against the door

Octopus froze. The lie came to them like instinct, their voice steadying only after a brief stumble:

"Ye- yeah! I’m fine! I just… I just discarded a glass painting of the Almighty Sea. It’s, um… being replaced. Cracked during transport"

There was a pause on the other side.

"…Huh. If you say so."

They listened as the guard’s footsteps faded down the hallway

Only when silence returned did they let out a shaky breath, the kind that trembled from their chest and left them lightheaded

Slowly, they stepped forward toward the broken glass. The stone still sat among the shards, black and steaming faintly, as if it had only just been formed. Octopus knelt carefully, brushing aside the remnants of their work to examine it

It didn’t come from the ocean...

This wasn’t a coral fragment, or a barnacled relic from a shipwreck, or even a volcanic shard from the depths below

No. This was a rock from land. Its heat still pulsed faintly, warm in their hand

Too warm

They looked up at the jagged hole in the wall where the stained-glass used to be. Beyond it; dark water. The quiet shimmer of the ocean at dusk

Something... Someone had sent this.

And they had a pretty good idea who

Octopus hesitated for a moment, staring out through the broken frame. The seawater shimmered with a strange kind of anticipation. They could feel it, a presence, hovering just beyond what the eye could see

They debated with themselves for only a moment longer before rising to their feet

Clutching the obsidian to their chest, they took a breath, turned toward the opening, and swam out

Upward

Toward the surface.

A Few Minutes Earlier

Fire Spirit Cookie had been hovering in thought for what felt like an eternity, though it had only been ten minutes, give or take. Ten whole minutes of burning silence and staring down at the endless blue void beneath him. He was already debating whether it was worth it. Maybe he should just turn around, fly back to Dragon’s Valley, and forget this whole bizarre moment of curiosity ever happened

But then… an idea sparked

A stupid one.

He wasn’t a scholar. He wasn’t some alchemy nerd holed up in a tower with beakers and chalkboards. But he did know one thing about chemistry, something he was absolutely sure of

"When lava hits water" he muttered aloud to himself, grinning "it makes rock"

A beat passed. Then, under his breath:

"Thanks, Minecraft"

A short, barking laugh escaped him. He looked around, as if someone might’ve seen him, heard him. Of course not. He was alone. A flaming god loitering on a salt-bleached perch above the sea, playing science experiment with his own digestive system

"What am I doing?" he muttered, dragging a palm down his face "I don’t need followers. I don’t want followers. Who even cares?"

But that wasn’t true, and he knew it

There was a stubborn ache in his chest he couldn’t shake. That dumb little whisper of what if...

He sighed heavily, flames trailing from his mouth in the exhale. With an annoyed grunt, he shifted his sitting position, no more cross-legged lounging. He knelt now, more serious, more focused. He leaned forward, close enough for his fiery reflection to shimmer across the ocean surface. The water stared back at him. Silent. Taunting.

"Alright, you stupid sea" he mumbled "Let’s do this"

He stuck a finger down his throat

He gagged once. Then again

And then, with a violent shudder, he vomited. A molten stream of glowing lava spilled from his mouth, hissing and spitting as it splashed into the ocean below

The reaction was immediate

TSSSSSSHHKKKK—!

Steam exploded upward in a dense, ghostly plume. The sound was harsh, like the sea was screaming in protest. Fire Spirit coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, eyes 'watering', not from emotion, but from the intensity of what he’d just done

And then, in a rare moment of clarity, realization struck him

He didn’t put anything underneath to catch the stone

"Shit"

Panic snapped through him. Without thinking, he lunged forward and plunged his arm elbow-deep into the water

BAD IDEA.

The scream that tore from his throat was less a scream and more a snarl, a furious, pained hiss between clenched teeth. He yanked his arm back immediately, clutching the blackened stone, but his skin was blistered, ash-coated, and flaking like dying embers

"GOOD JOB, FIRE SPIRIT!" he growled through grit teeth, shaking the water off his injured arm "You flaming idiot. "

He tucked his scorched arm into his hair, letting the licking heat of his mane soak into the wound, soothing it. His other hand, the one still holding the cooling obsidian, clenched tightly

"This better be worth it" he muttered, laughter bubbling up despite the pain "What a dumbass I am…"

He rose into the air slowly, drifting up and away from the patch of salt-encrusted stone where he’d been crouched. The sky above shimmered like glass, the surface of the sea catching the last rays of sun

Then he saw it, just below the surface, a splash of red

Not coral

Not fish

Glass.

A stained-glass window.

And he grinned.

"Ohhh, Sea Fairy is gonna be sooooo pissed"

Without another word, he hurled the obsidian chunk toward the glimmering red target. It sliced through the water like a bullet, and though the sound was muffled beneath the waves, the crash that echoed back was unmistakable

Glass shattered

The impact rippled in the water

And Fire Spirit Cookie?

He floated above it all, smirking like a child who just broke a priceless vase and blamed the wind.

Let the ocean rage. Let Sea Fairy curse his name

He was Fire!

And someone down there had called to him

Chapter Text

By now, it was nightime. The sea below shimmered in silver and deep blues, the moonlight slicing through the surface in quiet ribbons. Fire Spirit Cookie hovered just above, the warmth of his body making the air around him waver like a mirage. The stars glinted coldly above him, so unlike the burning skies of Dragon’s Valley

Then he saw movement

Someone was rising from beneath the water, slow and hesitant. A faint silhouette at first, graceful, almost spectral. The first thing he noticed was the hair, a cascade of ocean-blue drifting behind them like silk in the tide

His entire body tensed

Sea Fairy.

Of course it was her. Who else could pull him across the world with whispers and prayers but that moody moon-watcher? He could already hear the lecture in his head: "You’re reckless. You’re foolish. You are nothing but a child playing at godhood"

He scowled, heat curling at the tips of his fingers in anticipation. But as the figure came closer, his expression fell slack with disbelief

It wasn’t her

No dripping ocean hair. No gaze heavy with ancient sorrow. No cool detachment

Instead... Small. Delicate. Mortal...

A cookie.

They hovered just beneath the waterline, rising enough for the moonlight to catch on the whites and pale blues of their garments, robes that flowed like ink in the sea, trimmed with subtle silver threads and stitched so finely he could tell even from here: they were the robes of devotion. Priest’s robes. No… higher than that. Something sacred

They looked up at him, wide-eyed, their three hearts beating a visible tremble in their chest. Fire Spirit saw it. Felt it

Fear.

Their entire form seemed carved from glass, so ethereal and soft that he was briefly convinced they might vanish the moment he blinked

He didn’t.

He slowly lowered himself closer to the water’s edge, just above the shimmering line where warmth met chill, fire met sea

"Who…" he breathed, voice barely more than smoke in the wind "Who are you?"

The cookie didn’t speak. Just stared, starstruck, trembling

And Fire Spirit Cookie? He froze. Not from fear, but from something he hadn’t felt in years. Surprise. Deep, shivering surprise. Deep down, he had thought this was all some elaborate joke, some trick from Sea Fairy to rile him up, make him look like a fool chasing shadows

But this wasn’t a trick

This wasn’t a goddess

This was a devotee

His gaze searched their face, fragile features, lips slightly parted in awe, skin kissed with salt. They were real. And terrified

He swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry despite the mist in the air

He gathered his pride, straightened his back, and tried to speak again

"Was… was it you?" he asked, softer than he meant to "Did you call for me?"

His own voice startled him. Why did it sound so small? So… reverent?

Pull yourself together, he scolded internally. You’re the Eternal Flame! You’ve melted entire cities, devoured kingdoms in heat and ash! Why are you trembling like a rookie acolyte before their first fire ritual?

But even as the thoughts fumed inside him, he caught his reflection in the water, messy hair like a wildfire, eyes glowing, but clothes…

Torn. Ash-stained. The same ragged cape and onesie he’d been wearing for gods knew how long. Charred in places. Splattered with old lava burns

He looked like a beggar. A drifter.

In front of this immaculate creature of devotion, this beautiful, wide-eyed priest of the sea… he looked pathetic

Octopus Cookie lingered just beneath the water’s surface, paralyzed

Maybe it was nothing. A meteor, perhaps.

The sea was no stranger to burning stones, embers from space that plummeted through the atmosphere, screaming with fire until they cooled and sank, stripped of their glory. Yes. Just space debris. Not a sign. Not a god...

"…Am I making a fool of myself?" they whispered into the currents

A voice stirred within, gentle, steady, always calm "Nonsense. Go see. Curiosity is natural"

One of many voices that lived inside their head, now like old friends. This one they called the Gentle Voice. The balm to their fraying nerves

With a hesitant breath, they began to rise, their body slicing through the ocean like a prayer. And then, they breached

The night greeted them not with chill, but with warmth.

Warmth...?

Octopus blinked in confusion. The sky was dark. The moon veiled behind thin clouds. There should have been nothing but the cold bite of night wind

They turned, and the breath fled their body

Their three hearts surged against their chest all at once, overwhelmed by the sight above the water

Him.

The Eternal Flame.

But no, no, he was more than flame, more than just fire

He was the sun personified.

Hovering just above the sea like a second dawn, Fire Spirit Cookie radiated with a heat that wasn’t cruel, but impossible to ignore. His very presence bent the world around him. The sea shimmered at his feet like molten glass, refusing to touch him. The air wavered in gentle waves, haloing him in invisible firelight. The sky, once void-dark, now blushed faintly gold around the edges of his silhouette

He wasn’t simply there, he commanded the horizon.

Octopus trembled. But not with fear. No, never fear

This was reverence. Worship in its rawest form. They had dreamed of signs, whispers in steam, symbols burned into driftwood, divine messages etched into their skin. But they never dreamed they'd witness the sun rise from the ocean in the shape of a god

"Who are you?" the deity asked

His voice was not booming or wrathful, but it carried. Crackling like the hearth on a winter night, smooth like scorched silk. Every syllable warm enough to leave a mark

Octopus tried to answer, but the words caught in their throat

He was... glorious .

Radiant orange dough like molten honey, lit from within. Eyes deep maroon, rimmed in white lashes like cooling ash. His hair, a mane of living fire sculpted into a mohawk, burned upward, wild and unashamed, refusing gravity as it danced in silence. His clothing looked etched from the crust of volcanoes themselves, reddish-brown layered with bright lines like magma veins, glowing ever so faintly in the dark.

And behind him? A cloak of black night, lined with gold like the sun’s last light before it vanishes. It drifted as if caught in an eternal wind. He gripped a tall black staff in his left hand, crowned with the unmistakable Red Dragon’s Bead, the very relic Octopus had seen in sacred manuscripts, drawn in trembling ink by the hands of scholars long dead

"Was it you who called for me?" he asked again, firmer now. The sun tilting its gaze toward a single grain of sand

Octopus flinched. You fool, they scolded themself. You made him wait. You made the sun wait.

"Y… yes" they whispered, barely a ripple in the air

They drifted further up. Careful. Measured. Not because they feared him, but because they knew to look too long at the sun was to go blind. Not because he frightened them, but because they feared not being worthy of what they were seeing.

"I-I…" they stammered, words slipping away like seawater through their fingers

Then- the offering.

Their arms moved on their own, sliding the smooth black stone away from their chest. And with that motion, they dropped into ritual, body remembering where the mind faltered

They bowed deeply in the water, head lowered between their outstretched arms, the obsidian cradled in shaking hands like a sacred heart

"I brought this" they said, their voice barely rising above the tide" An offering... Obsidian, from an underwater volcano that erupted just weeks ago. I thought… I hoped…"

But then their eyes caught their reflection, and shame burned hotter than divine fire

Salt-streaked cheeks. Hair askew. Their robes? Creased, stained with ink, sweat, the residue of labor and devotion. They had not bathed. Had not perfumed themselves. Had not dressed in the ceremonial blues and silvers. No oils. No incense. No silk. No dignity.

How could they present themself like this before the sun?

He must think you wretched. Nothing more than a barnacle on his flame-lit path.

Still, they said nothing more. Their arms trembled with effort as they held out the stone, this one small, imperfect gesture of devotion. Their eyes shone with emotion too heavy to name

And they waited... Hoping, praying, that somewhere in all his light, there was still space for someone like them.

Chapter Text

Fire Spirit Cookie stared down at the trembling figure before him, arms still outstretched, offering the obsidian like it was something sacred

So small. So delicate. Their aura practically reeked of uncertainty. Their limbs shook, eyes flicked too quickly. A creature carved of moonlight and salt, what business did they have calling upon fire?

He scoffed under his breath
Fragile
Pathetic.

"If you’re going to shake like a leaf, why bother calling the flame at all?" he said, voice edged with cruel amusement

His eyes dropped to the stone in their palms

"Obsidian? Ha!" he barked a laugh, sharp and mocking "That’s what this is about? You bring me a rock and expect what, gratitude?"
He tossed his head back with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Please- I can make those anytime I want!" he lied with ease, basking in the sound of his own bravado. Of course, true obsidian, earthborn, ancient, formed over centuries in the deep dark, was something even he couldn’t conjure on a whim. Lava turned to stone was one thing. Real obsidian? That took pressure. Time. Patience

Things Fire Spirit had no interest in

He leaned in closer, the flames of his mohawk crackling faintly as his face neared Octopus Cookie’s

"Tell me, little worshipper" he said, voice low and laced with mockery "Why summon the sun? Did you need a favor?" He smirked wider "A little divine intervention? Or- ah! Perhaps you want me to scorch your enemies to dust, hmm? Turn your problems into ash and bone?"

His laugh echoed like a flare in the quiet night.

It was a joke. He knew it was a joke. He knew what Sugarteara was, a sanctuary, they called it. A place of serenity, peace, prayer. A city of doves under the sea, draped in coral and song

But even Fire Spirit, wild as he was, could feel something was of
Something in the way the city shimmered too cleanly. The smiles too practiced. The peace too... perfect

It wasn’t a sanctuary. Not really
It was something else

A beautiful lie buried under leagues of water
A cult disguised as a paradise


Beneath the smirk, behind the fire in his eyes, something flickered

Why am I even doing this? Fire Spirit wondered, watching the fragile little cookie cling to devotion like a drowning soul to driftwood. The mockery, the arrogance, the feigned indifference, it wasn’t instinct. Not really. It was habit. A shield. A performance

None of the other elementals acted like this. Not really
Sea Fairy moved with grace and sorrow, every word measured like a tide
Moonlight was distant, yes, but never cruel
Even Wind Archer, cold, humorless Wind Archer, still answered prayers with a kind of rigid dignity

So why was he pushing this one away?

Maybe…
Maybe it was easier that way
Maybe he wanted Octopus to lose interest. To run off, find some other god more deserving, more capable, of their faith

He’d had worshippers before. A few. Scattered. Most had either perished, forgotten him, or turned to gentler divinities when the fire proved too hard to hold. Followers were exhausting. Their needs endless. Their prayers constant. Their adoration heavy

He didn’t understand how the others managed
How Sea Fairy still answered with a soft voice, even when she was drowning in her own sorrow
How Moonlight found time to slip into the dreams of thousands, night after night
Even Wind Archer, stiff as he was, still answered the cries of the desperate when the winds called

Fire Spirit…
He was just tired

So maybe this act, this sharp tongue and scorning grin, wasn’t just about ego

Maybe it was defense
Keep the worship at arm’s length
Keep the hope at bay

Because hope always turned into disappointment
And disappointment always turned into ashes

Fire Spirit didn’t even register the cookie’s words at first, he’d been too caught in his own storm of thoughts, too wrapped in the flare of his own presence. But then, movement caught his eye

They were drawing back

He blinked, only now noticing how close he’d been, how his flame had nearly licked the surface of the water, how their wide eyes had turned downward, how their arms slowly retracted the offering, clutching it to their chest as though ashamed

Silently, he pulled back. Just a few inches. Just enough to let the space breathe again
As much as he enjoyed toying with mortals, basking in their awe and nervous stammering… he didn’t like crushing them beneath it. He didn’t want to scald this one

"-I just… thought…" they murmured, voice so soft it barely rippled the air. Their words trailed off as they sank slightly into the water, their chest dipping beneath the surface, hiding. Their cheeks were flushed, whether from heat or shame, he couldn’t tell. A flicker of steam rose from their skin where warmth touched salt

And for a moment, a moment he’d never admit aloud, Fire Spirit felt something foreign
Something unwelcome

Pity.

This creature, this fragile, trembling little thing…
They looked like they’d been caught kneeling before a false god and didn’t know how to rise again

He frowned.

That feeling in his chest, it was uncomfortable. Hot in the wrong way
Like a fire left burning too long without tending

He hated that.
"Oh, give me that-" Fire Spirit huffed, reaching out with a spark of impatience

He expected something crude. A lump of black glass no different from the one he’d spit out earlier in a fit of improvisation. A gesture, nothing more. Something brittle and hollow, barely worth noticing

But the moment his fingers wrapped around it, he stopped

It was small, yes, smaller than what he would have considered impressive, but it was dense. Solid in a way that only nature could shape. Its surface was slick, smooth like melted night, yet broken in places with sharp, unpredictable ridges. Faint striations shimmered under the moonlight, like ancient cracks sealed by the earth’s breath. Even in the dark, it seemed to glimmer faintly, as if holding onto the memory of the volcano that had birthed it

He turned it in his hand

It was cold, expectedly so, its chill biting into his skin for a heartbeat… and then, it began to warm due to his touch. Slowly. Subtly. As though the stone itself were waking up in his grasp, kindling to the touch of flame

His brow furrowed, the mocking remark he’d been preparing catching in his throat

This… this was real

Forged not by desperation or show, but by time. By pressure. By eruption. It had endured a process, just like he had, and come out the other side hardened, dark, and strangely beautiful

For the first time since arriving, he said nothing.
He simply held the obsidian in his palm, his flame briefly dimming to a contemplative glow

Octopus Cookie flinched at the sharp edge in his voice. Of course… Of course obsidian wasn’t that rare. Not compared to moonstone, not to coral pearls or glowquartz. They should have chosen something more radiant, something worthy of a god’s attention. Something beautiful

They swallowed hard, barely daring to breathe as their gaze crept upward, just enough to glimpse Fire Spirit’s expression. But what they found wasn’t rage. It wasn’t quite disdain either. Just… apathy. Indifference. That was somehow worse

Their eyes stung.
Not from heat. From something deeper
They hadn’t come here to disappoint a deity
They hadn’t expected mockery

If they had known Fire Spirit could summon obsidians himself... if they had known he’d find their offering laughable... they never would’ve dared...

And then, his voice, sharp as flint, cut across the air again

"Tell me, little worshipper… why summon the sun? Did you need a favor?"

The words were thick with amusement, cruel and curling like smoke in the lungs

Octopus Cookie’s mouth opened, but for a moment, no sound came out. Why had they summoned him? It hadn’t been necessity. Not survival. Just… longing. Curiosity. A desire to understand more than the moon and the tide. A desire born of devotion, but to many, that would sound selfish. Blasphemous, even


Their hands clutched at their soaked robes, voice a thread of sound

"Forgive me, Great Flame…" they murmured, eyes lowering once again "I-I’m a priest… from Sugarteara. My role is to study the elementals- write prayers, interpret signs… to know your nature…"
They paused, heart hammering. Their voice dropped even quieter, almost ashamed to be heard

"I just… thought…"

The words curled in on themselves like burned parchment. Their cheeks flushed, not from heat but humiliation. He was so close. Too close. His presence pressed into them like a roaring bonfire, and yet they remained still. They had summoned him, after all. If he wished to strike them down, to scald them with judgment or reduce them to cinders for their arrogance…

Then so be it.

The priest felt the warmth recede, just slightly, like a wave of heat pulling back before it could consume. They nearly exhaled in relief… but before their breath could even leave them, movement sparked above

A hand, firm, blazing, sudden, lunged down and snatched the obsidian from their grasp

"Oh, give me that-"

The words came with the usual fire, curt and demanding, but laced with a strange familiarity, almost impatient, not wrathful

Octopus Cookie jolted from the surprise, recoiling just a little, blinking up at him with wide, searching eyes

Fire Spirit didn’t toss the stone away. Not immediately
He held it

Turned it

Studied it.

And for a second, a foolish, impossible second, hope dared to flicker in the priest’s chest. Had he changed his mind? Had the offering… pleased him?

No. No, that was absurd...

Don’t be stupid, they thought, panic creeping in again. He was probably just inspecting it so he could disintegrate it in front of them. Burn it to ash with a flick of his hand, then scoff and demand a ruby, a dragon scale, something ancient and divine, something worthy

But they had nothing else. No jewels. No holy relics. Not even a whisper of a second gift prepared

This had been everything
Their passion. Their sincerity. Their faith

And now… it might not be enough
They were so screwed.

"This’ll do" came the voice, smug, casual, like a flame flicking off the end of a matchstick just to prove it could

Octopus Cookie blinked
"…Wait-really?" they asked, eyes widening, their voice barely able to contain the fragile thread of hope stretching through it. Their chest swelled with something pure, joy, relief, reverence
A god had accepted their offering. Their offering
There was no greater feeling than having an offering accepted. No greater purpose fulfilled

Fire Spirit twirled the obsidian lazily between his fingers, letting the surface catch the faint glimmer of starlight. With a flick, he tossed it into the air and caught it again, grinning like a dragon who’d just found a hoard no one else could touch

"Yeah, why not" he said with a scoff "Not bad for a soggy little pebble dragged out of your bathwater city"
He cackled at his own joke, actually tilting his head back midair with a loud, fiery bark of laughter

"Ha! Bathwater city, that’s a good one. I should write that down"

He drifted backward, cape swirling like a flare caught in the wind, eyes glittering with mischief
"Go ahead, tell your queen of kelp I said hi. Or wait- don’t. She’s still pouting over that reef I scorched last century. Who knew coral was so flammable?"
He winked, leaning in just enough to smirk directly into Octopus Cookie’s stunned face

"And don’t get clingy now, high priest" He said the title like it was a inside joke "This little playdate doesn’t make us friends. I’ve got real work to do, y’know, volcanoes to wake up, islands to threaten, actual fire god things"

Then, with a whirl of his flaming hair and a snap of heat, he launched himself skyward in a blaze of molten glory, laughing loudly as he vanished into the stars, trailing embers in his wake

The water below shivered
The warmth faded
And Octopus Cookie remained frozen at the surface, the upper part of their body no longer wet, hearts racing, offering gone, soul seared

...

Had that really just happened?