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To the faerie that made me believe,
My faerie, if you’re reading this, the tree grew. Didn’t it? I’m not here, and the rest are locked away too. It was bound to happen. Even if you had tried so hard to avoid the inevitable. I adore you dearly though. You shall always be the one I think of. Through thick and thin. Through hell and back. Even in the darkest moments, only until the light shines on us both. Until I can run to you and hold you tight.
I’m sorry I never told you that I wanted you. That you were what I craved when nights got too quiet. When the rain stormed on, echoing the aching tears my heart would shed. To the day I can find you once more is the day that, maybe my heart won’t cry. That if it does, it’s out of the joy I won’t be able to contain. My freedom will come with impending doom, but I hope to be there to help you. To not be a foe, but a friend. No, that won’t happen. There can be a day that maybe I’m freed of evil. That we can have that ceremony you always wanted. Would you still like that? Or is it something you lost a want in the moment the corruption started to eat at my souljam.
Was it worth getting close to me? Just to watch me break and crumble. To slowly lose it like the rest, to wish I wasn’t the one you yearned for.
Maybe I could have left this as a note of missing. Not yearning. Yet I choose yearning. I choose to make this more painful. More painful than when I accidentally harmed your wing. (It still doesn't hurt, does it? I’ll always hold myself accountable. To never harm another’s wing again. Even through failure of protection, I’ll try).
I don’t know how I’d want you to feel. Maybe hatred. It’d be fair. I don’t deserve to want to have you close. To want you near and coddle you. To hold out comfort to you in the scarred hands. They are stained. Jam tainting the pure white I had for. The jam has expired now though. It’s blackened everything. I feel the only thing that lasted was my undying love for you.
…I hope for there is a world where this wasn’t how this ended. That we could come together hand in hand. Where I could hold you, treasure you, be the one you rely on most. That can’t be this world. It wouldn’t ever work. But maybe there is somewhere out there that does. And for when that comes about. I hope you are as happy as you were before this all ever occurred.
- From one who doesn’t deserve you, Silent Salt.
…The name was changed. Or maybe it was always Silent Salt. He wouldn’t ever remember. He could only cling onto the past. To the remains he has. Every single letter the other sent him was stored in a special place. Where they couldn’t get tampered. Where how they were damaged on their travel to the kingdom still remained how they’ve always been.
The faerie’s wings twitched thinking back to everything. How the other was so careful to bandage his wing. He still had the remains of flowers that he had used to temporarily repair the other’s wing. Bundled together safely in his garden. Specially planted in his garden of flowers to remember the one he first loved. The only one he could love. His knight in shining armor.
All the flowers were some shade of white. If it was off-white, they had hints of purple in them. Some of them were purple now. Some black for causes he couldn’t even explain. The only flowers that weren’t ever tampered with were the first ones in the garden.
“Elder Faerie” the deep voice called. Standing in the threshold of the garden.
“Ah, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Elder Faerie had been younger. More bliss minded and young. He remembered that well.
“I…heard you were adding more to your garden. Pure Sugar had wanted to gift you plenty of flowers since she assumed it was for new species.” His gruff voice didn’t match how gentle his words were to most, yet the faerie believed it worked.
“Did she now?” Elder Faerie knew better, Sugar would have come herself it was just her own flowers.
“She did. I was passing your kingdom, other wise she would have done this herself,” he huffed. He straightened up before walking forward. Gentle steps, the clinks of armor he wore all the time. When he stopped, he got down on his knee. Even though Elder Faerie predicted something like this, he was still flustered.
“For my prince,” he teased. Quietly spoken were his words. Elder Faerie giggled like a princess in love. (Not a princess, but he was most definitely in love at that time).
Elder Faerie took the flowers carefully. Smiling childishly as he stood there. He quietly looked behind himself. His wings spread wide. Slowly he strode over to the center of the new garden. The butterflies that had gathered in the empty fountain fluttered off. Flying to any of the other gardens. The few that lingered went way up higher.
The faerie crouched down to the ground. A hole had already been perfectly dug out. The picked flowers carefully settled into the ground with a little bit of magic. Dirt placed gently back on it. He smiled at his work before looking back and seeing his the knight had already left.
He sighed. Shaking his head when he heard the door busted open. Frantic yells was all he needed to hear before he and the figure rushed out to go stop the occurring issue.
***
“Shadow Milk!”
“Oh oh oh!” the jester cookie laughed. Floating in the air as his grin grew wider.
A blast of dark green faded to bright and light appeared. Taking down a handful of paper dolls when the magic bloomed into a lily. One of the paper dolls ran up and attacked the white haired cookie. A yell before a candy cane flung at the doll was heard. The doll faded into nothing after the attack. The young cookie then called over for the tan cookie, who ran over with his staff. Crouching to the ground where the white haired cookie was recovering. A glow of yellow magic appeared and vanished quickly. The girl thanked the boy before getting up and running back into the action.
“Foolish Faerie King!” the blue and black colored cookie giggled. Hands on his stomach as he arched his back with how much he was laughing.
The cookies on his side paused, paper dolls stood still, strings tied to the puppeteers hands.
“You think you and your pesky friends can stop ME?” The cookie laughed, rolling his eyes before leaning forward. Head tilting an angle too far to be normal or right. “You really are fulfilling your role as a fool in this play!”
“We will defeat you, Shadow Milk!” The king replied. Hands tight on his sword. The jester slowly floated to be inches above the ground. Face right in Elder Faerie’s.
“Defeat… me?” He asked, voice soft, some would say maybe even…weak? “Defeat me?” He asked again. Eyebrows raised up high as he leaned back.
“HA!” He yelped, practically laying in the air as he went to be a feet higher than those on the battle ground.
“You really amuse me, you fool! Defeating me? After all that time-” he paused. A smile formed as he looked down at the king. “Your sweet little knight wouldn’t be so…pleased, with your actions against the scholar, would he?” Shadow Milk asked, head tilted back as he smiled.
Elder Faerie’s heart stopped. Skipping one, two, even three beats before it beat again. Fast. He stumbled back. Head pounding as the memories flooded back.
“My prince, have safe travels to the Fount’s land. Won’t you?” the one clad in white asked, His boots scraped against the tiles. Sword attached to his hip as he ran a hand through the ponytail the other formed with his hair.
“I will. For you and the people.” He murmured. Having taken on the role as soon to be king, he fell into the stress of making sure everything went well. Maybe he should have given this job to an elder. They wouldn’t have the kind of worries he has at such a young age. They were wiser, smarter, etc. More importantly, they’d probably get taken more seriously.
Sure, he was about to come of age to be old. One hundred years of age. Definitely a bit younger than the virtues.
“Faerie boy,” the one in white called out. The Prince looked over. “What is wrong? You look fearful for what is to come.” He spoke gently.
“Nothing is wrong.” He huffed out. Straightening up his upper half before turning on his heel. His steps that followed were small clicks.
“If something was wrong, would you tell me?” The virtue asked.
The faerie paused. He stayed silent before looking up at the knight. “I'd tell you anything.”
“Elder Faerie!” a female voice called. He shook his head before barely dodging an attack.
“Is the fool king stuck in lala land-? It doesn't take much to get you out!” He laughed, swirling his staff around as he stared at the King below.
Elder Faerie hissed in pain, clenching his chest as he stared at his sword. He knew what he wanted to do.
His hand clenched tighter around his sword before a puff of smoke formed. When it went away it was too late for the King.
***
Silent Salt blinked as he stared at a pile. It wasn’t just any pile, it was an important pile. The pile was of someone. Someone’s powdery remains. Crystal shards glimmered in it. From the wings that the knight remembered treasuring deeply.
“Elder Faerie” the knight called out. He had unadorned himself of his helmet. His hair draped across his shoulders in a familiar powder sugar white. “Your wing…” he paused.
“It’s fine. It’ll heal on its own.” the knight scowled at that. Tossing his helmet on the plush couch. His steps firm before he finally stood in front of the king.
“It isn’t. Let me patch it up. The least I can do.” Elder Faerie paused, looking up at the other. His wings fluttered at the idea though, yet his face remained calm.
“It isn’t anything you need to do something for. It isn’t your fault.” It was his fault. He was the one who cut the other's wing. It was barely holding on.
So the knight disobeyed the king. He slid to sit on the couch. The king furrowed his eyebrows before he yelped, getting dragged to sit right in front of the king. His wings spread wide when they felt hands gently rubbing against his shoulders. It felt nice, so he leaned back subconsciously. Unaware when the one hand left to grab a healing ointment. Only until he whimpered in pain did he realize what his knight was doing.
“I said I was fine-” He called out, yet the massage came back. And it fell into a similar pattern until his wing was bandaged. And a massage was all that remained. It felt nice. Sweetness complimented the setting as Elder Faerie just accepted fate. It made him feel warm, like a fireplace did when he read in the evening.
“Better?” his knight muttered, but maybe he should have spoken sooner. The other was fast asleep. Curled up into the other as his wings rested against his back. Not tense, but relaxed. A natural state of them laying against his back instead of how he forced them to be. The knight was proud of his work as he sat there. Blissful of the other most likely getting upset at him when he misses a meeting.
He shuddered when he heard the familiar voice in his memories. The things the two had done together… Even the drunken actions. The reckless nights spent in the fae’s bed. Waking up and coddling him as if he were something fragile.
No. He had been something fragile. That was his prince, his king. His beloved. And he was gone. Leaving him before he could try for one more hug. One last kiss. One last…
He was crying.
…
He shoved his helmet off. It tumbled to rest right next to the powder. He slowly sat next to the powder. The locks of white hair ended up pooling around him. It wasn't pure white. An off shade of a dull purple more than white at this point. The glow faded after he had thrown his helmet off. Anguish being more devastating than caring about hiding his scared face. Wounds from history laid there. His eyes were teary. Had he gotten out sooner he’d still be here. Wouldn’t he?
Or was it a cruel joke by the universe? A joke made to point and laugh at his misery. It was doomed from the start, hadn’t it been. He knew the moment he handed the seed off that it wouldn’t work. That the moment they had been sealed away nothing would be the same.
What if he hadn’t given the faerie the tree seed? Would the other be standing in front of him? Breathing and alive? That’s what Silent Salt wanted. To pretend that’s what it is. That this wasn’t reality, a false nightmare.
He hadn’t realized he was getting watched, sobbing his heart out silently. Only when a hand rested on his shoulder did he grab his helmet, shoving it on before looking over at who was behind him. Shadow Milk. That wretched-
“Come on salty! We all have our respective places to go, chop chop~!” He sang out, clapping as he floated off. The sight of his two servants waiting for him. The girl with red apples in her hair was cheering for the arrival of the other, the one in black and purple stood there with that iconic smile. Not as memorable as his faerie’s but still, a rather known one between the beasts.
He heard the cheers of the red cookie. The antennas being the only notable thing as he rushed off into the far lands of the dessert sands. The angel floating off to the side, heading in the opposite direction of all of them was humming. Her lyre in hand as she played a tune of false beauty.
Silent salt finally took one last breath. Standing up before he slipped his cape off. Carefully, he slid it underneath the powder that rested on the grass.
“Even if I can’t bring you back, mourning you should be right.” He muttered.
***
“Sir we are-” the cookie in a top hat paused. The skull glimmered in the moonlight as he stood there. Lantern in hand as he quietly waited. The sobs echoed off the walls as he slid the door shut. Stepping carefully through the stones.
“Sir.” he muttered, a hand resting on the other’s head. He had his eyes shut, he could never bring himself to see the face of the one who always hid it. Even if he’s seen it once upon a time.
“Quiet. Please..” he muttered, eyes flicking up to the set up he had made. A gravestone in the center of elderflowers he had planted. Each represents a memory he made with Elder Faerie in white. The rest that weren’t white were of the other’s favorite flowers.
“..White Lily is on her way sir, you must prepare I fear.” He sighed. Taking a step back. “But I’ll give you another moment.” he added, turning before leaving. His steps echoed in the room before the door shut with a thud.
Silent salt sighed shakily. Glancing at the gravestone one last time before finally getting up. He walked to the door, stopping one last time as he stared at it.
“If I die, I want you to remember me as a butterfly,”
“A butterfly? How come?”
He blinked as he stared at the butterfly.
“You used to call me a butterfly because of my wings, did you not?”
“It was mere teasing,”
“I think it’s a sweet nickname of you,”
He shifted as he brought a hand to his cheek.
A small peck was then laid there. Small and simple. “Would you ever marry?”
“Only for you,”
He bit back tears before turning around, slipping his helmet on, and walking away.