Chapter Text
The Dragons Valley, a pile of dangerous, unstable, flaming volcanic rock- as some who have never actually seen the place may call it. Ask it’s regular residents and well, they’ll say much the same actually. The main difference between the descriptions is that outsider cookies will speak it as a warning, while the spicy residents yell it out with fearsome cheer.
It definitely takes a certain kind of cookie to survive and thrive the environment. If one was not originally baked there, then it takes certain measures of bravery and foolishness to venture in.
Unfortunately for some- in addition to a willing spirit, a cookie planning to explore the Valley also needs to have willing dough. Many ingredients simply can’t survive the sheer heat of the heart of the Valley, the same as other cookies crumble in the cold or grow soggy in the water.
That’s not to say that the entire Valley is completely inhospitable. Although mostly volcanic rock and exposed magma, there are milder parts of the Valley. Such as the Sour Jelly Forest, where many meltable dinosaurs live. But to some, that simply isn’t enough.
One cookie declared how he would brave the Valley and take the Heart’s power for himself. He was met with incredulous disbelief. Even with the perfect ingredients- which he notably did not have- such a task was so plainly, obviously impossible. Yet still, that cookie turned away, and began his way into the valley.
The others took bets, how long would it take him to wisen up and forget about this impossible quest? A day? A week? Would he come back heavily burnt, forced back by injury’s- or would he turn back before he could get that far? What about if he doesn’t return at all? On that last one, they all agreed- if the cookie never returned, he either crumbled in the Valley or he got out and didn’t want to face those he had so loudly boasted to, choosing a different town or city or whatnot. But no, he would certainly never succeed at his impossible dream.
Weeks and weeks, months and months later- the exact time doesn’t really matter, the cookie hadn’t returned. There were some other adventurers that took shorter journeys into the Valley, and none brought back any news of him- alive or crumbled.
They did however bring tales of a cookie made of fire. He burned continuously but wasn’t a smidgen brunt himself. He boasted that he had the power of the Heart, the power of the Fire Dragon that the Valley had been named for. And the flaming cookie had the strength to back his words, proving a great challenge to any that dared face him.
But even if defeated, he wouldn’t crumble- no, his dough would burn away and condense into a burning hot orb, too hot to touch. Those few that made the managed to make the mistake of trying to take the orb with them would suddenly find the flaming cookie before them again, grinning wickedly as he thanked them for saving him the chore of tracking them back down. No one had managed to damage the orb.
He called himself The Fire Spirit.
Legends and rumours spread quickly throughout the Earthbread of the Cookie Made of Fire. His legend slotted in nicely between tales such as the five Dragons of the isles, the magical City of Wizards, the Living Wind Guardian, the Frozen Queen and the Fairy of the Sea.
But in a small settlement on the outskirts of the Dragons Valley, some cookies took a moment of pause because- surely, that one foolish cookie.. He- he couldn’t have survived- could he? No, no, certainly not. That cookie wouldn’t have made it to the lava fields, much less the Valley’s Heart itself. Probably a cookie from one of those intense spicy tribes that made the Valley their home. Yes, yes- definitely.
One with Fire Spirit’s power must’ve been a cookie baked and raised in the Valley, definitely not an underprepared outsider travelling such treacherous lands.
But yet still… that specific group of cookies made a point not to insult or belittle Fire Spirit himself. Just- just in case he ever chose to prove them wrong.