Chapter Text
There’s not many flowers that can grow in the harsh winter climate of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. It was a hard contrast to Mystic Flour Ivory Pagoda. The flower that always seemed to be in full bloom that she’d walk through with Cloud Haetae by her side or sharing a fresh peach with Peach Blossom when they came into bloom. Perhaps that’s why she finds herself still in the garden of this castle so much.
Even when she was first forced here, when the garden was not cared for the weeds and vines taking over what little plants that grew. Though as of now that garden ‘remodeled’ to fit her taste as her capture says. It was made so that even plants that are not found here could grow. But it mattered little to her, the beauty of a garden comes from the plants that grow naturally, not the ones that were artificially.
But even then it still brought her just a tad bit of comfort in this place of snow. Her back against a tree in the middle of the garden, her fur cloak hung on the same tree. She knew she’d have to get up soon, she'd be expected at dinner, and it was just a pain for one of the soldiers to come and get her.
She’d like to say it didn't bother her that she wasn't tired, angry, and felt hopeless…but. She reached up to where her Soul Jam was. The gem was full of creaks and with it her apathy seemed to creak as well. She finds herself feeling guilty for the cookies that she’d turned to flour, anger at Dark Cacao for trapping her in this place, sad not seeing the other beast not knowing their fates. But considering what hers is she can’t see it being any better for them.
She stood up, stretching her stiff dough, and took her cloak, putting it on. Walking out of the garden into the halls of the castle she boots clinking against the stone flours. She could try and leave, but she knew she’d won’t make it far. Most if not all of the citizens of The Dark Cacao Kingdom knew her as the wandering Queen. Their ‘precious’ queen that had her ‘episodes’ trying to leave or saying things she didn't mean. If anyone saw her outside the castle without a guard they definitely go tell the first guard they saw and she'd just be dragged back. And it’d just undo all the ‘trust’ she’d finally gotten from Dark Cacao to be by herself once in a while.
As she walked she passed by many of the servants that either bowed in greeting or addressed her directly. She ignored most of them, she was tired, more than usual for some reason. Mystic Flour came to a stop in front of the door to the dining hall. She usually didn’t mind dinner after all she usually could just ignore Dark Cacao but today was a little different. The other Ancient Cookies were here today. For some meeting and were staying for dinner. She didn't want to see them, but she wanted to yell and demand to know what they have done with her….friends. But she couldn't, she needed to continue her act that she still could not feel. If she didn't Dark Cacao would know that he’d had won in the end.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing in front of the door lost in her thought, but a servant opening the door brought her out of them. They seemed surprised to see her standing there; they were probably told to go get her. “Oh, Your Majesty! Come inside, dinner is already ready and has been served.” Mystic Flour gave a nod of her head at their words. Walking past them into the dining hall, and almost immediately regretted it. She heard their voices before she looked over to the table. All five of them were sitting at the table talking and some laughing.
It was a sight that sickened her because that was once herself and her friends. A time when they were the virtues, a time that she’d hate to admit was better. She took a step back, turning away. She’d just make the excuse she wasn't feeling well and go back to her- their room.
She didn't get to though because Dark Cacao voice called out to her. “Mystic Flour, your dinner has already been placed out. Come eat it before it goes cold.” The moment he called out to her the other ancient eyes were on her. It’s like they were dissecting her with their eyes, she wanted to crawl out of her dough the longer they stared.
Mystic Flour didn’t move at first but slowly she made her way to the table. Taking her usual seat next to Dark Cacao. Hot jelly stew was in front of her, it’s what she usually ate here. Their eyes were still on her as she began to eat. They were still talking, though she cut their voice away. She was focusing directly on her hand trying not to let it shake as she ate. Show no emotion even now. It wasn’t worth it.
The spoon entered the dish, the stew filled it as she lifted her hand, halfway to her mouth-. “Oh, good news from me. I’d like to share that my Blue Bird has made a full recovery. Or well almost.”
Snap
The sound of a sharp metallic snap filled the dining hall. The spoon in her hand broke in half. Dark Cacao reached out to her gently placing a hand on her shoulder. His voice held concern “My dear, are you ok?” she told in a sharp breath of air, and abruptly stood from the table. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to our room.” She didn't give him a chance to say anymore, leaving the table and out of the dining hall. He let her because she damn well knew that if he wanted her to stay he would have made her.
.
.
.
Mystic Flour rested her head against the frosted window. Why did she have to react like that? That thief of Shadow Milk Soul Jam could have probably just been talking about an actually blue bird….but she used to call him that. Maybe that’s why.
She sighed heavily, closing her eyes as her mind started to wander again. Was it better that things ended like this? She almost winced when the thought came to mind. How could she think that? Has Dark Cacao words finally started to get the better of her?
“You think far too loud.” a gentle voice spoke to her, it sounded so familiar but it took her far too long to speak to confirm who it was. Her back to them. “My Volition?” a light laugh was heard after her question. “Long time no speaking, how are you my dear?” “I could be better.” was all she said, why was her virtue speaking to her after all this time of believing silent? “Really now? How so?”
The question took her by surprise for some reason. How could it be better? The answer was clear: her Soul Jam would be complete and she’d….what would she have done if she won? She knew she had a plan but it suddenly seemed to slip. When she escaped the Silver Tree she knew there were only two paths: the latter or being imprisoned yet again. But she never thought she’d be imprisoned like this. She thought they sent her back to that tree.
“I’m not sure.” she finally answered. Her Volition let out a small hum at that. “You don't know? Well then I'd say you're quite fine right where you are.” Mystic Flour wanted to deny that. Say that she'd rather be anywhere else, but the words caught in her throat. This had been the most at peace she'd been in years…
“He forced me here. Why would I want to stay.” “Consider it our last wish granted.” a beat of silence. “What…?” Her Volition took her hand in its ‘own’. “He wants us here, and he’ll give us a good life. A fair trade if you ask me.” Was it a fair trade? To trade her freedom for this forced home? No…no it wasn't, so why was the idea so appealing?
“I’ll think about it…” “I know you will.” Mystic Flour eyes never opened from when she had closed them. Perhaps if she had opened them she would have seen the creaks of purple in Her Volition once pure white form.
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A hand gently shaking her brought Mystic FLour from her dream-like state. Dark Cacao sat beside her with a small smile on his face when he saw her waking up. “You should not sleep in the window seat. You’ll get sick.” She yawned and rubbed her eyes, “Yes, I know.” He let out a small sigh and handed her something. “Here this will help with your stomach."
Mystic Flour looked at the tea cup that was now in her hand. An old memory surfacing the very first wish she’d ever granted was for a tea set almost like this one. The one she’d have made was pure white, but this once was white with the base tinted a black like purple. It was oddly beautiful. “Thank you…” she brought the cup to her lips and as she took the first sip she couldn't help but think, ‘maybe this isn’t too bad.’