“Hey! Healer Cookie! I found another one! Look!”
Healer Cookie raised his head in the direction of the sound. Past the gaps in his bandages, he could see a hand waving in the distance. If he squinted, he could have made out the cookie’s appearance as well: a small figure with dark purple hair draped over one eye, wearing a faded bandana that had been repaired a dozen times over. But Healer Cookie didn’t need to see. He knew the faint rasp of his friend‘s voice by heart.
“Really? That’s fantastic!” As he walked, Healer Cookie used his staff to carefully nudge the wayward pebbles from his path. “Where are they?”
“This tree here!” The cookie’s voice indicated the direction he was facing, so Healer Cookie turned his head the same way. The bright orange of the setting sun silhouetted the tree, and there were at least a dozen of raisin jellies clinging to its gnarled branches.
“That’s quite an impressive haul.” Said Healer Cookie with a bright smile. “You really do have a knack for this, Dusty Jam Cookie.”
“Aw…well…” Dusty Jam Cookie’s voice was tinged with pride. “It’s not that many.”
“It’s certainly more than I’ve managed to find.” Healer Cookie lifted the empty burlap sack in his free hand.
“But you’ve been doing great, Healer Cookie! It’s always hard finding food after an attack. I just get outside more, so I know where to find the tougher trees!”
Healer Cookie couldn’t argue with that. It was rare he had a chance to leave the infirmary, especially so soon after a crimson moon. When the wafflebots flooded down from the castle in the sky, there were always raisins jellies to be scavenged, tents to be mended, and cookies to be healed. However, whether by the mercy of the castle’s residents or simple good luck, the attacks had been far less fearsome this time. Only a few wafflebots had descended for their monthly assault. A touch of magic and a few bandages were all the injured villagers had needed. Perhaps that was why Dusty Jam Cookie had invited him to help scavenge for raisin jellies. With so little damage, the village might finally have a chance to stock up their supplies. For once, they might be a step ahead of the destruction.
Regardless of the reason, it was such a lovely evening to be outside. Healer Cookie could hear the sharp caws of the ravens and the rustle of the wheat reeds. He could smell the faint sweetness of the ripened raisin jellies. Even the grainy itch of the cinnamon-sugar dust on feet was a welcome one. This place might be a wasteland to an outsider, but there was beauty to be found here. Here was home, after all.
“Hey! Healer Cookie! I’m going to start knocking the jellies down!”
Healer Cookie stepped back as his friend shook the jelly tree. The dry leaves rustled, and there came a faint “plunk” as each jelly hit the ground. Healer Cookie wasted no time in filling his sack. As he felt their wrinkled skins, he could already taste their tart chewiness. Perhaps they could boil one into raisin broth tonight? Or mix it with wheat for raisin bran? If they were especially frugal, they might have enough food to last the whole month!
“Is that all of them?” Healer Cookie asked when the rustling stopped.
“Uh…I think there’s one more up here at the top! I’ll just grab it!” Dusty Jam Cookie scrambled up the trunk with a scritch-scritch-scratch. Healer Cookie leaned back against the tree, letting the sunlight flicker before his bandaged eyes. He could just make out the outline of the floating castle. Its parapets stood sharp against the bright sky; it reminded him of the wafflebots and their lances, of just how fortunate they were to be left unscathed this month and to find so many jellies to eat. There was so much to be thankful for he could hardly keep track.
“HEALER COOKIE! HEALER COOKIE!”
A frantic cookie was sprinting towards them. Healer Cookie stood at attention.
“Paper Bag Cookie? What’s happened?”
The cookie gulped for breath, crinkling the bag covering his head.
“You gotta get back to the village right away! It’s important! Really important!”
Dread seeped into Healer Cookie’s thoughts. Had the wafflebots returned already? They never had before. Had there been an accident? Or a fire? Or something worse?
“Geez, took you long enough.”
Healer Cookie thought he heard something as Dusty Jam Cookie hit the ground. He listened, but his friend only said.
“I mean-Oh no! No time to waste! Here, take my hand, Healer Cookie!”
Healer Cookie nodded. Holding tight to his friend’s hand for guidance, the three cookies sprinted back towards the village. It wasn’t long before the ramshackled tents and hovels appeared ahead of them. Nothing was on fire, and there were no massive machines smashing through the road. There wasn’t much of anything, actually. He couldn’t hear a single cookie step or crow caw anywhere.
“Where is everyone?” Healer Cookie’s grip on both his staff and Dusty Jam Cookie’s hand tightened.
“The infirmary! We gotta get to the infirmary!” Paper Bag Cookie called. As soon as the makeshift tent was in sight, Healer Cookie broke free of Dusty Jam Cookie’s hand. He stumbled to the opening, threw back the tarp, and–
Healer Cookie froze. He stared through the gaps in his bandages.
All along the walls of the tent hung paper chains of little wrinkled paper cookies. Handfuls of waffle clovers, the only flower hardy enough to grow, dotted the surfaces that normally held medical supplies. The tent was stuffed to the brim with cookies, yet not a single one was injured. Instead, they were all gathered around a bandaged-face cookie holding a small loaf of raisin cake.
“SURPRISE!”
Healer Cookie stared even harder. The tension had left his dough so quickly he wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Oh no! Do you not like it!?” Wailed the bandaged cookie
“No…n-no no! Not at all, Patchface Cookie! It looks beautiful!”
“Hoorah! I knew you’d like it!” Paper Bag Cookie hurried in through the tent flap. “Those paper chains were my idea. Been saving scraps for weeks!”
“And it was my idea to lead you away getting berries.” Dusty Jam Cookie followed behind. “I bet you didn’t suspect a thing.”
“But…what is all this?”
“Don’t you remember what today is?” One of the villager’s smugly pushed up his cracked glasses.
“No? I…suppose I do not.”
“Well…” He raised his arm in declaration. “Today is the anniversary of the day you first came to our village!”
“Really?” Healer Cookie scratched his head.
“But…Clever Raisin Cookie…I don’t even remember…”
“Exactly!” Chimed Patchface Cookie. “You don’t remember anything! That’s the problem! We never know when to celebrate your birthday, and you always say ‘Oh it’s not important…better to save supplies for the others’! You say that everytime!”
“And you work so hard!” Clever Raisin Cookie huffed. “Healing us with your magic, sewing up our clothes, not to mention you’re always offering to help with random stuff. That’s why we had to do something. And with the waffle bots finally giving us a break, we figured this was it!”
“So, do you like it?” Patchface Cookie held the cake out.
Healer Cookie looked at it in awe. The cake was humble, barely enough for one cookie, but it smelled sweet and warm. The raisin jellies baked into its crusty surface were as smooth as they could possibly be. If he stared hard enough past the bandages, he could make out his own smiling face reflected in their black skins.
“I do. I love it! It’s all so wonderful, and you’ve all worked so hard.” He put a hand to his chest. “I don’t even know what to say!”
“If you wanna say anything, you should say thanks to Black Raisin Cookie.” Clever Raisin Cookie pointed to the back of the tent. “The whole thing was her idea.”
“She did?”
Sure enough, the leader herself stood at the far side of the tent with a raven on her shoulder and a gleam in her eye.
“Black Raisin Cookie…you didn’t have to-”
“Of course I did. You’re a part of our village. That doesn’t just mean taking part in the work. It means taking part in the celebrations too.” Black Raisin Cookie strode to the center of the room and, with her hand on her hip, gave a warm smile. “Your past doesn’t matter. You’re one of us, Healer Cookier, and you better not forget it.”
“Three cheers for Healer Cookie!”
Clearly the village had not established a plan for the timing of their cheers or what cheers they were supposed to give. They all started shouting at random until the tent was filled with happy noises. Healer Cookie closed his eyes. The darkness let him pick through the voices of his dear friends. He knew every tone, each screech and yelp they made. None of them were beautiful, but perhaps that’s what made him love them all the more. These sounds were more than noise. They were everything he cared about. They were his whole world.
Healer Cookie opened his mouth.
“This memory has been in our dreams a lot lately.”
His eyes open.
Pure Vanilla Cookie couldn’t see where he was standing but when he looked down, he saw his gold waffle robes. He was in the past no longer. Instead, the tent, the party, and the villagers were all frozen in front of him like a diorama. And in front of that, with his back facing Pure Vanilla Cookie, was…
“This took place one month before.” Said Healer Cookie. “Before we ventured into the floating castle and restored the Vanilla Kingdom.”
Confused, Pure Vanilla Cookie stepped forward.
“So much has changed, hasn’t it?” Healer Cookie sighed. “The villagers now live in a kingdom of peace. The other kingdoms have come together, united against a common foe. Even the Creme Republic is taking steps towards equality for all cookies. We have more friends, old and new, than we ever could have dreamed of.”
Pure Vanilla Cookie took another step forward.
“Yet, for some reason, we keep returning to this memory.”
Healer Cookie raised his head. Though bandages hid his eyes from sight, Pure Vanilla Cookie could feel their gaze upon him.
“Do you… miss this?”
Pure Vanilla Cookie could not meet the healer’s gaze. His eyes were fixed on the little party. This was before Gingerbrave and his motley band. Before Strawberry Crepe Cookie and Clotted Cream Cookie. Before his memories returned with Hollyberry Cookie, Dark Cacao Cookie, Golden Cheese Cookie, and even White Lily Cookie. In those days, all he had was the village. His world had been nothing more than a land of scrappy structures and dying trees, a group of villagers whose only goal was survival, and a view of the future that could only reach as far as the next crimson moon.
“Why would you miss this?”
Pure Vanilla Cookie put his hand to his chest. There lay his soul jam, pulsing to the beat of his own frosted heart. On some days he hardly knew it was there; on others, it weighed like an anchor upon his dough.
“I’m…afraid,” Pure Vanilla Cookie murmured. “that I will wake one morning to find that everything I’ve gained is gone.”
Healer Cookie waited.
“That life was small and simple. Without my memories, it was as though everything I cared for could fit in my hands. Now Earthbread is so big and complicated that I can barely hold onto it at all…”
Pure Vanilla Cookie looked at the little raisin cake in the villager’s hands. Now that his eyes were no longer covered, he could see his reflection clearly. There were dark lines of exhaustion in his face.
“Do you ever resent those cookies for bringing back your memories?” Healer Cookie asked.
Pure Vanilla Cookie hung his head. He could not speak. What was he even longing for? To let Earthbread burn? To leave the villagers in poverty, struggling day to day just to stay alive? That wasn’t it.
“I understand.” Healer Cookie looked upon the past once more. “As long as you have your memories, your duty is to the Vanilla Kingdom and to Earthbread. But, if you hadn’t known, who could have blamed you for doing nothing? You could have been happy with the little world you had, if only you hadn’t known. Truth always comes with heartache and uncertainty. It’s what makes knowledge such a heavy burden.”
Pure Vanilla Cookie raised his head.
Knowledge.
Why did that word feel so cold?
“Ignorance can be such a beautiful thing.” Healer Cookie’s tone never wavered. His expression remained empty but for a mournful smile. “Resolution, passion, abundance, freedom…to forget those things is to render them meaningless. Even the truth itself means nothing, if one remains ignorant to it.”
Pure Vanilla Cookie glared.
“Who are you?”
“Forgive me.” Said Healer Cookie. “Ignorance is not the most pleasant way to put it. Perhaps…innocence? There really is no responsibility in remaining innocent. In fact, most cookies long for it. They call it bliss.”
“Who. Are. You?”
Pure Vanilla Cookie and Healer Cookie faced one another. Behind them, the frozen memory of the village faded. Only the shadows remained.
“You clearly have some idea.” Healer Cookie tilted his head. “Why don’t you tell me?”
The voice of Healer Cookie and Pure Vanilla Cookie were one in the same. However, Pure Vanilla Cookie could hear the slight inflections where they should not be. The bite of mockery nestled behind even the gentle words.
“See? You do know!” When Healer Cookie raised his hand to his mouth, it only drew attention to the widening smile. “So why not say it? Why not call me out already?”
“You said so yourself. This is only a dream.Even now White Lily Cookie and the faeries are standing guard over the tree. That beast is not here. I won’t give him the satisfaction of–”
Pure Vanilla Cookie’s voice caught in his throat. He could feel the darkness pressing down all around him. This place wasn’t empty. The gaze of a thousand invisible eyes were hidden in the dark, driving their gaze into his dough. His thoughts became a swirling blur. Startled, his staff slipped from his trembling grasp and clattered to the ground.
“Wow…and here I thought you were Mister Truth.” The cracks in Healer Cookie’s voice grew as wide as his grin. “How about a fun fact from one enlightened cookie to another? Once you learn something, you can’t unlearn it. You can’t unmix a cookie’s dough or put an idea back where you found it. And once you’ve broken something–especially as big and important as a magical prison–”
Healer Cookie reached for the bandages covering his eyes. One by one, the gray strips of fabric came loose in the cookie’s hands. The eyes behind them were blue, black, and beedy.
“There’s always a crack.”
Pure Vanilla Cookie scooped up his staff. A golden shield rose between him and Healer Cookie. The healer vanished, and an echoing voice took its place.
“Hey! What was that for? I thought I wasn’t reeeeal?”
“Where are you?” Pure Vanilla Cookie turned slowly, trying to pinpoint the voice that echoed all around him. “What are you doing in my head?!”
“Didn’t we already have this discussion? We’re connected, you and I! And thanks to that I can come and go as I please.“ The voice swooned. “But don’t you worry your pretty cookie head! I’m not here to fight. I’m here as a buddy! A chum! A bestie you didn’t even know you had!”
“We are not friends.”
“Oh sure, we’ve had our differences. You stole my power, blew me off, and helped reimprison me for all eternity, but I am willing to forgive you for all your horrendous crimes against me. After all, you were manipulated by that fool king and his entourage of little faerie twits. We’re both the victims, really, so consider that hatchet buried!”
Pure Vanilla Cookie jumped aside as a cardboard hatchet swerved past his head and disappeared into the dark.
“Whoopsie! I was wondering where I left that. Anyway, how about we talk about those memories of yours! And I mean honestly, aren't they just the sweetest little things!? The emotion! The heartache! The drama! Why, I couldn’t write a better show myself! Wait, no, actually I could, but I’m a genius! You barely even had a script yet you managed such an inspiring performance! Fooling those cookies into thinking you were some nobody healer for all those years? You even managed to fool yourself! Bravo! Bravo!”
The darkness filled with the sound of applause.
“You know, most cookies only get that kind of opportunity once in a lifetime! I mean, have you ever heard of someone getting amnesia twice? Well, have you?”
Pure Vanilla Cookie said nothing. He wouldn’t grace this nonsense with a response.
“Ehhhh I’m gonna take that as a no. But don’t fret Poor Vanilla Cookie, because that is exactly what has brought me here! I, the great and generous cookie that I am, shall free you from the burdens which have been so heartlessly cast upon you! Just imagine it! Back by popular demand, the heartthrob of the outlands! The one! The only….”
The dramatic pause was marked by a drumroll.
“Healer Cookie!”
The unseen audience erupted into cheers.
“So that’s what you want.” Pure Vanilla Cookie’s shield grew brighter. “If you think you can take my memories-”
“Whoa! Whoa! You’re way off script there, you silly vanilly! Who said anything about taking!? I would never dream of stealing anything that didn’t belong to me! That would be…really…frustrating.”
For a split second, Pure Vanilla Cookie could see the eyes lurking in the darkness. They were unblinking with their cat-like stare, each one more murderous than the last. Even with his magical barrier, Pure Vanilla Cookie’s hand instinctively protected his soul jam.
Then the eyes vanished.
“But like I said, hatchet? Buried! No, no, no I am offering–again, generous cookie that I am–to relieve you of those troublesome memories of yours! Just say the word, and I’ll wipe your brain as clean as a whistle! No more pressures! No more worries! Nothing but that simple day-to-day life you’re so obviously craving! How’s that sound? That is what you want, isn’t it?”
Pure Vanilla Cookie chose his words carefully.
“...there are times where I wish things were as simple as they once were. But forgetting the evil that exists in the world doesn’t erase it, and forgetting my powers does not erase my responsibilities. You keep making it sound as if I choose to forget, but If you believe I would ever desire to live in ignorance, that I would abandon my friends that way…then know nothing about me.”
The darkness grew still.
Slowly, the piercing gaze faded. Still, Pure Vanilla Cookie waited. He waited. And waited. And waited.
But nothing came.
Pure Vanilla Cookie lowered his staff, and his magic faded. Finally, the nightmare was over. Now if only he would wake up.
“Just making sure we’re on the same page here!”
Pure Vanilla Cookie jumped as the voice gathered behind his head. When he spun around, he faced the beady blue eyes and cheshire grin of a familiar fool.
“When you say I’m making it sound like you chose to forget..” He flipped himself upside down. “Are you saying…you don’t think you’ve done that?”
…
…
…
“What are you talking about?”
The darkness was overrun with peels of laughter. They squealed over and over again, louder and louder until Pure Vanilla Cookie had to cover his ears just to keep from going deaf. Even then, his hands did nothing. The laughter cut straight into his skull.
“Oh that is rich! That is just too precious! After all this time! After all you’ve seen of my power, you still don’t have a clue!” The blue face twirled upright. “I think this calls for a little impromptu quiz show! AHEM! Attention! Attention please!”
Pure Vanilla Cookie turned away, still trying to block out the deafening sounds.
“It’s time for the shortest quiz show in the world, with your faaavorite host! Me! Only one question! And it’s multiple choice! Get it right, and you win! Question one!”
“I’m not interested in your games.” Pure Vanilla Cookie raised his staff only to find it had vanished and been replaced by a poor origami replica. He threw it to the ground in disgust.
“At the climax of the Dark Flour War, when the five phony heroes rose up to take on the wise enchantress and her armies, one particular “hero” chose to face the wise enchantress on his own and lost all his memories in the process! Oh nooooo!”
Pure Vanilla Cookie tuned out the noise and searched the darkness for his staff, for the fool, for anything in this black void he could ground himself with.
“Now here’s the question! Why did that foolish hero forget for so, so, so, so, so long!? Was it…”
A) He has a really bad memory?
B) It was just bad luck?
C) The magic used to stop the wise enchantress put that martyr “hero” in a deep slumber?
Or was it D)!
Pure Vanilla Cookie squinted as a sharp crack of light split through the darkness. A stage curtain was rising and behind it, he saw himself. His royal robes were in tatters. His hair was scorched by the same magic flames that filled the Vanilla Kingdom.
Pure Vanilla Cookie still remembered that night. His subjects had fled from the onslaught of cake monsters. His closest friends had fallen back, forced to defend the evacuating citizens from the onslaught. The sound of Dark Enchantress Cookie mocking him with her identity still rang in his ears. Even now, his hands went numb every time he pictured casting that final, devastating spell against her. That instant when his Soul Jam shattered was burned into the depths of his mind. Everything after that was a blur.
He watched himself wander the ruins, his feet scraping against the sharp edges of the shattered vanilla tile. Drips of strawberry jam trickled behind his every shaky step. Smoke rose from the lifeless forms of waffle bots and the smashed remnants of cake monsters. Flames melted the icing off the cookie houses. Still he walked, lifelessly dragging himself forward with no goal in sight.
Finally he could walk no further. He stood at the very edge of the floating kingdom. An ocean of clouds spread out ahead of him, its darkness rivaling the licorice sea. When he raised his head, not a single star shone in the night sky. Even the moon wasn't there to comfort him; its face had gone dark.
A cold breeze whistled and fell silent. The smoke billowed higher and higher. He stared, but saw nothing.
There was no one left.
There was nothing left.
Nothing.
He dropped to his knees. His hands clenched his chest. Tears flooded down his face as he cried out again and again. For a moment, Pure Vanilla Cookie forgot where he was and what he was watching. All he wanted was to rush forward and tell this cookie that it would be all right. His friends would return, his kingdom would rebuild, his heartache would heal.
As he saw himself cry out, Pure Vanilla Cookie noticed something flickering. His crying self’s hands were not just clutching his chest. He held a sharp blue fragment that flickered like the dying flames. Little by little, the light faded away. It was nothing but a crystal now. The light of truth within it had withered.
But the younger Pure Vanilla Cookie gave one last devastating scream. From deep within the fragment, a faint black shadow appeared in the jam. The scream was cut short as the shadow leapt from the crystal and wormed its way into the cookie’s eyes. The tears stopped. His eyes became gray and foggy. He teetered back and forth as he tried to stand, but exhaustion took over. He took one shaky step forward and fell off the edge of the kingdom, disappearing beneath the dark sea of clouds.
The curtain fell. An audience cheered. Pure Vanilla Cookie shook his head, trying to make sense of what he had seen.
“Sooooo?” The fool leaned back in the air. “What’s your answer?”
“...are you…saying that…I chose to give up my memories? …with your power?”
“Is that your final answer?”
Pure Vanilla Cookie didn’t respond. It didn’t make sense. The beasts were asleep at that time. And even fragmented, his soul jam should have been pure. That scene had to be a lie, an illusion meant to prey on his own doubts. And yet…while that moment looked so alien, the feelings within it felt so familiar. Anguish and loss and loneliness, and something dark and desperate lurking beneath them.
If that wasn’t what happened, then what was the truth? And why couldn’t he remember?
His thoughts were broken by a sudden downpour of confetti!
“Coooorrect! YOU WIN!”
“But I even haven’t answered yet” Pure Vanilla Cookie swatted away the confetti.
“Oh, but you did! You said nothing! Nothing is the correct answer!” With a merry flip, the fool was grinning inches away from Pure Vanilla Cookie’s face. “You get it, don’t you?”
The light of truth glowed with Pure Vanilla Cookie’s realization.
“No I-”
“The answer is that there is no answer!” The fool’s laughter echoed with the audience’s. “You don’t know! You’re not sure! If you were really the great hero you think you are, you wouldn’t even consider having done something soooo awful as abandoning your memories of everyone you care about because you were just a little bit sad that day.”
“But-”
“But that does leave a big, bad issue, doesn’t it? If you can really entertain the idea of erasing your memories for something as teeny weenie as a fallen kingdom…can you really say…” The fool cleared his throat. His next words were spoken in the solemn voice of Pure Vanilla Cookie. “I will never abandon my friends. I will never abandon my responsibility. I will never surrender the truth. I will not falter!”
“Stop speaking in my voice!”
“Then let us hear you say it!” His voice taunted back. “Say you’ll never see an innocent cookie crumble! Say you’ve learned from your mistakes and will never make them again! Say that you're somehow better than every other crusty old cookie out there! Say it! Say it now!”
Pure Vanilla Cookie’s mouth was open, but nothing came out. What the fool wanted was lies of hyperbole and arrogance, lies that should be easy to dispel. However, every time Pure Vanilla Cookie tried to force an answer, the sharper the images of the crystal’s shadow and his broken self became in his mind. The vision ate his soul like a parasyte. The longer he dwelled on that scene, the less he could sense the light of truth, yet he could not shake the images away.
There was always a crumb of truth to these lies.
Always.
His voice cracked once more as the fool leaned back in the air.
“See? You can’t even say it now? So then…if the foolish hero can’t even be sure of his resolve now…what will happen…” The fool faded into the darkness. “when things look a bit more like this?”
The stage curtains fell from their unseen rods, not just in front of him but from all around. They fell to the ground with loud clangs, but the noise could barely be heard over the screams.
Pure Vanilla Cookie stood at the edge of the Vanilla Kingdom in the same place his tearful self had. The ocean of clouds was gone and all of Earthbread lay out before him. Somehow, he could see every inch of it in perfect detail as it was torn apart. Fires roared in every forest, tidal waves crashed from every shore, and there were no cakes or robots; the monsters were the cookies themselves.
Jam splattered as cookies young and old slaughtered one another. They wielded whatever they could find, swords and spears, hatchets and stones, as they tore everything that moved into crumbs. Some cookies quaked in fear, others were overtaken by mindless sadism. He could make out every detail as the Creme Republic fired on its own citizens, as the tiny snowy villages were ambushed by starving cookies, as the cookies of the islands took up arms against the creatures of the sea and the schools of Parfadia melted beneath the weight of powers beyond their own comprehension.
Pure Vanilla Cookie felt the bile rising in throat.
It wasn’t real.
“Yet.”
It couldn’t happen
“Maybe”
It wouldn’t happen.
“And if it does? You’re not going to look away, are you?”
He couldn’t look away. Pure Vanilla Cookie struggled helplessly against the unseen force pinning his body in place. All he could move were his eyes, and no matter where they looked, there was death. He could only watch as Dark Cacao Cookie body’s dissolved into flour. As Hollyberry Cookie was torn to shreds by the dragon she’d trusted. As Golden Cheese Cookie melted alongside the soul of her kingdom. As White Lily Cookie tore the wings off fairies, having fallen into darkness once more. As the waffle bots went into battle under Strawberry Crepe Cookie’s orders, just as they had years ago, and this time Gingerbrave wasn’t fast enough. This time, Gingerbrave’s limbs were cracked from his body and thrown aimlessly across the ruins of the Cookie Kingdom.
“THIS IS NOT REAL!” Pure Vanilla Cookie barely heard himself as his heart pounded, pounded, pounded. “THIS IS NOT REAL! THIS IS NOT REAL! THIS IS NOT-urk!”
Something flew over his eyes. He tried to open them, but his lids refused to budge. Strips of cloth held them in place.
“Poor, poor, Little Vanilla Cookie! Too much for you to handle? Do you still really think that light of truth is your power? Do you think it cares how much it hurts you? Or will you wait until the truth leaves you broken and alone?”
The bandages wouldn’t loosen no matter how much Pure Vanilla Cookie pulled at them. He felt dizzy as they tightened around his skull. He heard voices.
“Hey Healer Cookie! Wanna see how fast I can climb?”
“Healer Cookie? I got another paper cut. Could you heal it please?“
“Come on Healer Cookie! Dinner’s almost ready! I’m starving!”
“I don’t say this enough but…thank you Healer Cookie. For everything”
“Doesn’t that sound soooo much nicer? Let me help you, Pure Vanilla Cookie. You’ll feel so much better once you’ve forgotten everything. I promise.”
“GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”
Still fighting against the bandages, his body was suddenly free. His foot slipped over the edge. The air whipped past as he plummeted to earth, blind to it all.
“Don’t worry, you silly nilly hero you, my offer still stands. When that horrible weight finally crushes you, I’ll be right here waiting! My friends should all be free very soon, and once they’ve had their fun?”
The voice of Shadow Milk Cookie whispered in his ear.
“I’ll be the only place left for you to hide.”
Pure Vanilla Cookie awoke with a start. Sweat stung his eyes, but he could see again. He was in his room, in the Vanilla Castle, in the Vanilla Kingdom, far above Earthbread. The stars sparkled outside his window. The buildings were whole. The streets were clean. Everyone was sound asleep, and alive.
His heart was still pounding, his throat still burned with bile. He took slow, deep breaths, but his lungs still felt sore. He breathed again and again.
When he lay down once more, Pure Vanilla Cookie couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes.
It was only a nightmare, he wanted to tell himself. It was only a bad dream built from your own fears and uncertainties.
But was that the truth?
Deep down, in the darkest depth of his soul where even he feared to look, Pure Vanilla Cookie didn’t really want to know.