Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Once upon a time, there lived a great Fount.” The Sage said, waving his staff, summoning the image of a golden light that softly illuminated the stage. 

The stars above him were twinkling in their faint glory, and the wind gently casted a hushed silence, listening along with the audience below.

Every night, the Sage of Truth would arrive at this plaza, gathering a small crowd around his makeshift stage, and give out stories, from fairy tales, truths, to truths disguised as fairy tales.

“He was praised, admired, and loved, a leader and an idol.“ He continued, changing the illusion to the picture of many different faceless cookies surrounding the light. “But in the end, he was also very very lonely.”

The Sage turned his gaze down at the onlookers, smiling. “Does anyone have any guesses why? Don’t be shy, I won’t mind a wrong answer this time.”

A cookie with green toppings, standing near the front, jumped up and down, raising her hand up excitedly. The Sage recognized her as one of his most dedicated followers, always attending his lectures and shows.

“Ooo, ooo! Was it because he had no friends?” She chirped up excitedly, eager to answer.

“Not exactly, my dear.” The Sage said, still smiling. He always held respect for his students, especially the eager ones. “He had friends, but—”

Ding, dong. Ding, dong. Ding, dong.

He was cut off by the toll of a bell on top of the belltower behind him, signaling that it was midnight.

“Oh my, it seems that I have forgotten about the time!” The Sage exclaimed, gasping and bowing in apology. “I shall continue the tale at a later date. Please, it is far too late to be awake!”

The cookies dispersed, muttering in disappointment, but they all heeded his advice. As they left, the storyteller stayed on his stage, watching them all disappear, one by one, into the comfort and safety of their own homes. 

It took a while, but soon, when he was sure the last cookie shut their gingerbread doors, and when there was nothing but silence, he finally allowed himself to move from his place.

The Sage of Truth, in the single wave of his staff, cleared away everything he brought, from the wooden podium to the illusions, all of it transported into his pocket dimension, then turned to stare at a dark area in an alleyway.

After a few moments of nothing but the birds chirping in the background, a quiet voice interrupted the silence, appearing from the shadows with soundless footsteps.

“...Since when did you detect my presence?” Truthless Recluse asked, his face neutral, but his hands were clenching on his staff tightly.

“Since you’ve arrived!” The Sage clapped his hands together excitedly. “I must admit, however, that I thought I might have been mistaken, but since you did turn out to be hiding here, I guess my instincts aren’t rusty yet. Your magic is quite impressive for it to be so undetectable, as expected of the great Truthless Recluse!”

He floated closer to the tired cookie, his eyes twinkling in curiosity. This darkly dressed cookie had always invoked his curiosity, from the way he acted to the way he treated the Sage. “Anyhow, in what way may I assist you? Or are you trying to convince me to not speak the truth, similar to your last visit?”

“I offer you a deal,” Truthless Recluse said straightforwardly, unaffected by the Sage’s ecstaticity. “I think it would be beneficial for both of us.”

“Oh?” The scholar asked, amused. “What can the great Recluse offer? Golden cheese? Crystal jellies? There is not much that can tempt me, you know.”

It wasn’t a lie— The Sage of Truth used to be the Fount of Knowledge, and knowing everything is quite similar to experiencing everything.

“Come back to the Peak of Truth for a while.”

“...What?” The Sage paused, surprised. It was the one answer he couldn’t have expected.

Truthless Recluse’s face remained as blank as ever, his tone unchanged.  “To… live with me for six months.”

“What’s the catch?” The Sage squinted, speaking in a lighthearted manner, but trying to figure out what the Recluse was thinking, expecting something more. After so long, after so many rejections, it felt impossible. “You’re essentially telling me you’re giving back access to the place you prevented me from returning for so long.”

The lamplights from the streets casted a gentle glow on Truthless Recluse which made him seem warmer than he truly was, so when he looked away, if it was any other cookie, the Sage of Truth would have thought it was an embarrassed expression.

“There is no catch. I wish for your return, for you to see the state of the Peak.”

Of course the Sage knew that Truthless Recluse was in the end, truthless, but it was hilarious to him that he would lie so outright like that, especially towards the Sage of Truth himself. If there was one thing that put him in a terrible mood, it was being deceived.

“Hmm~? Really? I didn’t know you missed me that much!” He teased, tapping a finger on the other’s chest, before dropping the grin and frowning. 

“Seriously. It’s been years, Recluse. Do not lie to me, I’m sure you know better than that. Again, tell me, what is the catch?” He sternly muttered, slightly glaring.

Truthless Recluse looked quite exhausted when he said, “If you must ask of one… you can not leave when you enter. You can not come and go as you please.”

“There! I knew there was one!” The Sage’s voice turned back to its chipper tone, glad that his thoughts were confirmed. “Well, give me some time to think about the deal. I’m quite a busy cookie! If I go for six months, I can only begin to count the amount of lectures I’m cancelling!”

“…Fine.” The Recluse raised his staff and summoned a dark portal, about to leave. “I will give you a day. Meet me back here tomorrow night, same time, and tell me your decision then.”

“Alright!” The scholar waved as Truthless Recluse stepped into the portal. “See you then!”

The portal closed, and the Sage received no reply.

With a sigh, he floated out of the alleyway, staring at the moon.

It was bright tonight, but he remembers taking in its true beauty, at the top of the world, back at the Peak, the light making everything seem more ethereal than even the Witches. 

He remembers the pretty blue flowers, the countless books, and the glass stained windows.

He remembers his former home, the home he lost because of himself.

It’s been several millennias since he last properly resided in it, and he had yearned for it many times.

Yet, for some reason, he still finds himself hesitating at the idea of return.

It seemed too good to be true.

Especially after what he had done.

~

Chapter Text

Darkness, darkness, and darkness.

That was all Shadow Milk Cookie could see, feel, or remember, trapped underneath the roots of this cursed tree.

Unless he summons a light source himself, his only companion were the shadows.

It was cruel, so cruel.

Guilt, guilt, and guilt.

How come no matter what route he took, the ending was the same?

Now, he had imprisoned everyone he trusted, everyone he loved.

Anger, anger, and anger.

Shadow Milk Cookie did everything right, to the point of begging on his knees.

So how come he’s still punished like this?

What did he do wrong?

He never asked for any of this.

Silence, silence, and silence.

Shadow Milk Cookie can’t take it anymore.

The silence taunts him, driving him to the brink of insanity.

Maybe he should just use his powers and twist the neck of the Guardia—

Ring ring!

An alarm pierces through the nightmare, awaking the Sage of Truth.

He gasped for air, scrambling to light up the lamp on his nightstand, and shutting the alarm clock.

The lamp shone throughout the room, saving him from the darkness.

Right. He’s no longer in the tree anymore.

Never again.

Taking a deep breath, the Sage tried to focus on his surroundings.

Nightmares like these were the reason why he rarely allowed himself to sleep, staying up for research or for stories.

After half of his souljam got split off, he began to loose his memory.

At first, it was only the memories of his corruption. The Sage didn’t mind that, he would rather pretend that part of his life never happened, a history better erased.

But then, whenever from the eternal movement of time or the cursed amnesia, he started forgetting about the details of his role as the Fount, from the faces of his followers to the voices of his friends.

It was the price for his redemption.

Yet, whenever by luck or by fate, the one thing he never forgotten was his real name.

Shadow Milk Cookie.

The Sage always found it ironic, laughable even. 

The shadows, the thing that were destined to torture him, was part of his identity.

He despised the name, so he vowed to never use it ever again, letting other cookies name him when he was released.

The scholar rubbed his forehead to keep himself awake, getting up from the bed to get dressed.

In the end, he had decided to accept Truthless Recluse’s deal, the opportunity too precious to pass up.

If he went back, he would be able to retrieve records of important information, and maybe figure out what was going on in the other cookie’s head. Sure, he’s still not completely certain if he could trust the Recluse’s word, but it’s not like the Sage doesn’t know how to fight.

The only reason why he lost to Truthless Recluse last time was because his powers were weakened.

The Sage looked out the window, staring at the stars.

It’s a new moon tonight, so there was no light.

~

Compared to the night before, the air felt colder.

Perhaps it was because the Sage had not held any lectures that day, or perhaps it was because the seasons were slowly approaching from autumn to winter, but there was a certain lack of warmth that he could feel around him.

He floated near the plaza fountain, waiting for the bell and Truthless Recluse.

The fountain was filled with glistening coins, all wishes from desperate cookies hoping for a better future. 

In all honesty, the Sage knew it was not a completely baseless belief— a long time ago, faeries responded to coins thrown into the water, but it still was a bit silly to him that cookies would waste perfectly good money on something that they weren’t certain of.

Fools they are.

The Sage of Truth took a coin from his pocket. 

Unfortunately, he was also a fool, the biggest fool of them all.

Closing his eyes, he tossed in the coin, and made his wish.

Ding, dong. Ding, dong. Ding, dong.

Right on time.

He turned around, already knowing who was there.

“…What did you make a wish for?” Truthless Recluse asked, grabbing his staff with both of his hands.

“Does it matter?” The Sage asked, deflecting the question. “Aren’t you here to ask me about something more important?”

Truthless Recluse sighed. “Yes, you’re correct. What is your answer to what I asked the night before?”

“I accept!” The Sage dramatically raised one hand on the air. “And I am ready to go any moment, any second!”

“Alright.” The Recluse replied simply, summoning a portal like the one he did previously. “Let’s go.”

Without turning back, and just like last night, Truthless Recluse left first.

No welcome, no goodbyes, not even a “see you later”.

Just an abrupt exit and an offer.

The Sage of Truth’s grin grew wider.

How fascinating.

He followed in.

~

Chapter Text

A marvelous castle of white, blue, and gold that stood on top of a grand mountain, visible from afar. Rising out of the ground were high towers, with swirled tips capped with fake gold stars that seemed to be as tall as the sky. The pale moon, eternally waiting above it all.

This was how the Sage remembered the Peak of Truth, in its magnificent glory.

When he stepped through the portal, he expected at least a few changes from the image he had secured in his head, now that a different cookie resided there. 

Perhaps instead, the colors were now painted into black and gold, matching the hermit’s choice of attire, or maybe the whole place was destroyed, reduced to nothing more than crumbles underneath his shoe.

Yet, when the Sage arrived, nothing about the building seemed to have changed.

The colors, the stars, the spires, all of it was the same. The only exception was how empty it felt, abandoned and forgotten like an old memory.

“Hmm, to be honest, I expected a little… redecorating.” He commented when Truthless Recluse unlocked the gates with a golden key produced from the inside of his black cloak. “You know, considering the fact that you live here now.”

“What do you mean?” The Recluse replied, not turning back as he entered the building.

The Sage waved his hand vaguely while flying around, observing all the details of the interior. The dimly lit hallways were filled with gold and blue furniture, bookshelves, tables, and weird antiques. “This place doesn’t really seem to suit your color scheme nor style.”

“I do not care for such things.” Truthless Recluse said as he took another turn, passing a life sized stained glass window depicting a dragon. “I never found a need for it.”

The Sage of Truth cocked his head. “Right, I’ve nearly forgotten you’re a bit of a dry fellow. Where are we going, by the way? Or are you lost in your home?”

“I want to show you something before you settle down.” The Recluse explained, dismissing the tease. “It’s in the old records room, though I discovered it only recently.”

The scholar stopped dead in his tracks.

No, impossible.

“Is it—“

CRASH!

Suddenly, a blur of black shot out from outside, smashing one of the huge windows, the colorful glass shards scattering to the ground.

The dark blob laid still for a short moment, then got up and flapped its wings, recovering quickly. It flew over to Truthless Recluse, landing in his hands, dropping off a scroll tied together by a small piece of red string.

He placed the bird on a nearby bookshelf, above the broken glass, and unrolled the scroll, flattening it on a desk.

“How- Why- What-” The Sage of Truth cut himself off several times, the most confused he had been in centuries.

“Give me a minute.” The Recluse muttered, reading the scroll as if nothing happened. “It would be helpful if you could clean up the glass, if you’re able.”

“I thought you allowed nothing into the Peak of Truth!” He finally blurted out, waving his staff to toss the shards to some random place in the Licorice Sea. “And an animal just randomly breaks in? How are you so casual about this!”

 “This raisin crow is from a trusted friend.” Truthless Recluse said after he finished reading, then rolled up the scroll, tying it back together. “Usually, I do not permit such entry, but the letter said it was an urgent matter, so I forgive it.”

“I thought you were a hermit? How did you acquire friends?” The Sage stared at the red eyed bird as if it held all the secrets in the world.

“You can find allies in unexpected places.” The Recluse vaguely responded as he casted a portal spell. “Unfortunately, it seems that I must leave immediately, with no time to spare, so I can not accompany you for the rest of the night.”

“Where do I go then?” The Sage snapped. He was already frustrated that he had no idea what was happening, a rare event, and would rather not spend the entire night alone in the hallway. “You can’t possibly leave me here!”

“You’re correct. Don’t worry, some… someone is coming to escort you to your room soon.” Truthless Recluse pulled up his hood, then started to disappear into the darkness. “Thank you for removing the glass, by the way.”

“Wait, what do you mean by someone?” The Sage of Truth asked, but it was no use. The other cookie was gone, leaving him alone in the hallway.

The crow squawked behind him.

Well, maybe not completely alone.

Since the Sage knew that someone was coming over, he decided to stay in the area, not wanting to wait longer than he had to.

Out of boredom, he cusped his hands, placed them next to the bird, waiting for it to hop over.

Instead, it flew over to his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. 

The Sage patted the bird.

It’s kinda cute, at least.

~

For the past hour, the Sage of Truth had been writing essays about storybooks.

Originally, he had planned to read them, taking them from a white chocolate shelf, but when he realized that he already knew the plot and text of every cover, he turned to analyzing the plot.

He was writing a social commentary on Alicorice in Candyland, about how it was a representation of the negative effects of drug use, when he finally heard a sound other than the ruffling of feathers from the raisin crow or the scratching of his quill.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Though, the “someone” certainly was not human like Truthless Recluse had suggested.

Made out of wafflecone, chocolate, and cream, a large robot dragged its feet towards the cookie, its movements a bit clunky.

“Greetings. I am Wafflebot-06, assigned to escort you to Guest Room 02. How may I address you?” Its digital face formed a smile.

The Sage gasped at the machine wonderingly. Finally a pleasant surprise! “Who built you? Who designed you? They must be very talented, I must meet them! Surely it can’t be the Recluse! Speaking of Recluse, I had no idea he had friends, is your master his friend?”

“You may address me as The Sage of Truth, or the Sage for short.” He added on quickly, to follow programming.

“I was built and designed by my master, who is not Truthless Recluse. I will process a meeting request, but they are busy at the moment. Those are all the questions I am allowed to answer.” The automation turned 180 degrees backwards, moving down the hall. “Now, follow me to the guest room. Please refrain from making noise, as we will be passing by my master’s workshop.”

The Sage of Truth nodded, making a dramatic mime of zipping his lips together.

He was very tempted to ask another bombard of questions, his never ending thirst for knowledge unquenched, but he bit his tongue, knowing that nothing would come out of it.

~

Chapter Text

Truthless Recluse is not a social person.

He thinks it is evident enough based on how he acts alone, but this fact never seems to go through with the villagers, especially the younger ones.

Every time he returns, they run over to him, talking about their latest endeavors, asking how he’s been or what he was doing, sometimes showing something they’ve made.

He never stops them, even though it is tiring at times— he may be a liar, but he is not cruel, especially towards innocent children.

“Kids, leave Healer Cookie alone.” Black Raisin Cookie was sitting on a rock near the hospital tent, sharpening a blade, waiting for him. “He’s busy.”

In the entire village, Black Raisin was the only one who knew about his true alias, discovering it by a mere slip of tongue from when she met Strawberry Crepe Cookie, but she had obliged when he requested her to call him by his disguise.

A young cookie named Dried Date groaned. “Please? It’ll be quick! I just want to show him the big fondant fish I caught!”

“Nope.” Black Raisin placed the knife down, getting up to drag away Truthless Recluse. “I called him over for something important, not to mess around with you guys.”

The unified whine of the children faded away as the two walked into the tent.

“…Thanks, Black Raisin Cookie.” Truthless Recluse said when they were out of earshot. “What did you call me over for?”

Black Raisin sighed, rubbing her temples. “You’re welcome. I know how much of a hassle the younger ones can be.”

“And the reason I called you over…” She bit the corner of her lip. “You remember the patient I showed you last time, right? Melted Lollipop Cookie.”

Truthless Recluse nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

He won’t ever forget, he thinks, because it was the first sign of White Lily Cookie being alive in centuries.

He had dismissed the sickness as a severe case of a fever at first, due to the symptoms, but his stomach dropped when he found a black etching of a lily flower on the patient’s arm, formed from dark moon magic.

The only person he knew that could make those markings was White Lily Cookie.

He had also earned an exact copy of that mark on his neck, during his last meeting with her.

Why she had decided to curse a random cookie, he had no idea, but he had dispelled it last time, thinking that it could be some mistake.

“Three more cookies have also caught the same thing. Or have been cursed, going off what you said last time.” Black Raisin continued when they got closer to the cots. “They all have the weird flower symbol.”

Though he could not see them properly, his vision limited to simple shapes, the Recluse knew that the patients were incredibly sick based on the sounds of their wheezing and coughing.

“A-ah, Healer Cookie is here!” A male voice exclaimed between sniffles when he spotted him. “We’re saved!”

A small cheer came from the patients, relieved that their suffering is finally over.

Truthless Recluse walked over to the cookie who first cried out, reaching out his hands. “Please show me where the marking is.”     

The cookie rolled up his sleeve, showing the flower on his wrist.

In one swift motion, the Recluse tapped it, the black melting into a singular blob that slithered away into the shadows.

Within just a few moments, Truthless Recluse could feel the patient’s fever going down, the other’s dough cooling.

“Thank you.” The patient said, sighing in relief.

He only nodded, moving towards the next ill cookies.

For the next few minutes, the healer removed the curse from the other two patients, quietly accepting their gratitude.

“It’s always fascinating to watch you work.” Black Raisin commented after he let go of the last cookie’s hand. “You’re the only mage on this planet who I’ve seen can cast so easily and fast, not to mention effective.”

“Anyone can do this with enough practice.” The Recluse responded, while summoning a bottle of coughing pills, handing it over to her. “It’s nothing special. Give this to them, one twice a day. It’ll be enough to get rid of the remnants of the sickness.”

“See,” Black Raisin narrowed her eyes when she placed the container in the medical cabinet, writing down his instructions on three separate notes for the patients. “Most people can’t casually summon a bottle of medicine from thin air. I can go on for hours, talking about the stuff you’ve done.”

“Not a lot of people study magic.” Truthless Recluse hummed. “Though I am curious, you can tell me what I do the next time I visit. I have a guest who I left unattended for this, and I don’t wish to impose him any longer.”

“A guest?” The black topping cookie asked. “That’s a new one. I thought you had no friends.”

“He said that, too.” The Recluse sighed. “I invited him over, and he can be a bit… dramatic, so I think I should hurry.”

Black Raisin raised an eyebrow, interested. “Now I really am curious. Never in my life have I’ve ever seen you of all cookies have someone over, especially voluntarily. He must be really special to you.”

“He is… unique, yes, but I have a good reason to let him stay, and we are certainly not friends.” He was beginning to loose his patience. Black Raisin had been a trusted ally, but her bluntness could be a little annoying. “May I go?”

“Sure.” She adjusted her scarf. “Come back soon. The children loves you, and they didn’t get to properly bother you today.”

“I will try.” Truthless Recluse muttered, walking out of the tent, lifting the flaps. “See you next time.”

“See you.” Black Raisin smiled as he left. “Better tell me more about that cookie next time!”

Truthless Recluse wisely did not reply.