Chapter Text
The air is stale.
That’s the first thing Silent Salt Cookie registers when he enters the Faerie Kingdom.
Like his own moniker, the once-exuberant kingdom is silent—and stale. No life, no music, no joy, only deathly stillness. It’s as though even the wind dares not make a sound, and a place where the wind does not tread is not a place anyone should go.
Everything else, though, is exactly as he remembers.
The architecture, the endless groves of silver trees and gardens, the ever-lingering aroma of delicate flowers, clinging to every available surface. The half-translucent butterflies, some no bigger than his palm, fluttering through the midnight sky.
The silver woods still shine as brightly in the unblemished moonlight, the same light he recalls in his memories, but it’s off somehow—more eerie. As he remembers, the nights in the Faerie Kingdom are full of dreamlike tranquility, but this silence is watchful, more oppressive.
When he walks along the silver roads engraved with that all too familiar insignia, his boots tap out a steady rhythm, a tempo to a symphony that no longer exists. He keeps expecting a sudden bout of laughter to ring out in the distance, or the musical tones of the Faeries’ language to float by his ear, ethereal and free.
And of course, even now he expects someone to walk beside him. Not necessarily hand in hand, but close enough their shoulders brush against each other, and when a passing breeze reveals itself he finds the opportunity to lovingly brush a lock of pale lavender hair from his companion’s face—but really, it’s an excuse to touch his face—and watch a delicious blush fan across his face.
He keeps expecting it, knowing what he saw with his own eyes, and yet the absence leaves him reeling every time. Like a phantom limb, the pain never truly leaves—only ebbing and throbbing every other second.
Silent Salt finds everything about this situation nauseating—in more ways than one.
For the oddest of reasons, the Faerie Kingdom had been devoid of all Cookies seemingly overnight. White Lily Cookie had conveyed this to him after she had gone back to visit, only to find nobody to receive her, because there was simply no one there.
She had rushed to the Great Barrens, anxiety poorly masked, and told him of what she had seen. Empty of all life, she had said. No signs of struggle, no indication of what could have transpired. The Faerie Cookies, each and every one of them, had evaporated into thin air.
Salt Cellar Cookie and the rest of his Knights—or, he thinks bitterly, what’s left of them—had immediately wanted to come with him, when he decided to see for himself. It took much convincing for them to stop clinging to his cape (the way they did eons ago). After all, how bad could it possibly be?
Rule number one of existence: never say something like that.
Now that Silent Salt Cookie has come here for himself, he sees what she means. Indeed, the Faerie Kingdom is as empty as the heart in his ribcage that once beat with such fervor and purpose that rotted away eons ago.
“Neigh.”
Nox snorts and nudges Silent Salt’s helmet with its snout, huffing when he placates him with a pat.
“I’m alright, just...thinking.” Silent Salt says, absent-mindedly patting his horse’s snout while staring at a silver fork lamppost standing vigil at the side of the road, its candlelight long extinguished. He distinctly remembers its fire used to be this certain shade of teal...or was it green?
The warhorse nudges Salt’s head again, this time with more force. Nox stares at Salt, as if wondering if its owner’s stay in the Seal Tree had addled his mind.
Silent Salt allows himself a tiny sigh and pushes Nox’s head away. “Stay here, Nox. I’ll be back soon.” He says.
Nox huffs but turns away, probably going to find a patch of grass to terrorize. Silent Salt isn’t too worried about it—he knows it can handle itself. He stands and watches it leave without a second glance back, its black shadow-like tail flicking side to side.
And now, he is alone again, haunted by the ghosts of his past.
What else is there to do, but to continue walking?
So Silent Salt Cookie continues walking.
He walks, alone, and in complete and utter silence.
“Salt of Solidarity.”
“You always appear without warning.”
“A Cookie of few words you may be, but your silver tongue leaves me disarmed every time.”
“What are you saying...?!”
“Are you certain? If we succeed, you, too, will...”
Tears that refused to fall, eyes that shone not with joy but with a grief so profound it threatened to rip through his dough. A minute tremble in his lower lip, his fist clenched tight around the hilt of his sword, his magic swirling around him in a facsimile of a last embrace.
No, Elder Faerie, this is what I must do. Don’t forgive me, for I do not deserve forgiveness. I have fallen, and I have lost my virtue. It would have been enough to feel the cold kiss of your sword against my neck.
Farewell, my love.
But in those fallen moments, it was the memory of that fateful day that swam before his eyes, landing as gracefully as a snowflake.
“I’d be by your side forevermore, if I could.”
“Truly? Funny. I was worrying about the exact same thing. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being someone else’s husband.”
Ah, Elder Faerie could never know just how long Silent Salt had dreamed of marrying him. It was embarrassing to even think about—the mere thought of standing with Elder Faerie before the wedding altar, with all his Knights and the other Divine Emissaries as the witnesses, used to be enough to send him into hysterics.
But as the harsh, unflinching bark of the Silver Seal Tree closed across his vision and choked him through his armour, trapping him with the horrified wails and enraged shrieks of the other Beasts, he knew his dream would never come true.
The glimpse of the radiant Elder Faerie standing hopelessly lost even with magic pouring out of his outstretched hands, tears falling freely down his face, was enough to haunt his nightmares forevermore. Silent Salt was prepared to face an eternity of this hell, if only for the sake of Earthbread...and his love.
This is it, he remembered thinking, feeling the other Beasts’ attempts to break free vibrate across their shared prison and shake his very dough. This is it.
This is what it’s going to be, forever.
And Silent Salt Cookie was—was!—prepared for it. He was! He did not flinch when he felt the Seal Tree close him off from reality. The urge to break free of the spell, rush out and hold Elder Faerie in his arms did not come to him, not even once. His grip never wavered on his greatsword.
So Silent Salt thought he could handle it. He would imagine Elder Faerie, steely gaze and clad in armour, standing guard next to the Seal Tree, ignoring how Shadow Milk Cookie cursed his love’s name with such vulgar vitriol. He’d close his eyes and imagine Elder Faerie touching the silver bark, head bowed not in solemnity but in grief.
Of couse, only he could tell the difference.
At least Elder Faerie would be safe. At least he would be alive and well, in the ethereal and impossible-to-find Faerie Kingdom. Silent Salt could rest easy, knowing he would be alright, safe from the horrors lurking in the tree.
The universe proved to be crueller beyond his wildest imaginations, however, when Shadow Milk Cookie—that wretched jester—actually managed to break free and escape the Silver Seal Tree. The gaping, jagged hole was enough for all of the prisoners to glimpse the outside world in eons—
And Salt watched, utterly helpless to stop it, as the light left Elder Faerie’s eyes. Elder Faerie Cookie, the same as he had been all those years ago, his face hardened by the passage of time and the slow, suffocating chokehold of misery. Just as handsome, just as lovely.
And then he was dead.
Just...dead.
For a heart-stopping moment, the tantalizing, tempting thought to slit his throat right then and there crossed his mind like a shooting star in the inky night sky.
But he didn’t, so here he is, walking alone in this silver kingdom with the atmosphere of a graveyard.
Elder Faerie Cookie would’ve hated to see it. It would’ve broken his heart. But he would face it with his spine unbowed and his head held high, even as his eyes darkened.
Silent Salt Cookie closes his eyes briefly. His armour feels too heavy, his helmet feels too constricting. Sometimes, if he closes his eyes for too long, it feels like he’s back in the Silver Seal Tree, desperately grappling for sanity.
“Give me strength,” he mutters. “I am not going to go mad.”
Or has he already gone mad?
“Enough.” Silent Salt opens his eyes. Glistening silver greets him like an old friend.
Clink!
His boots meet a smoother surface, inclining upwards. It’s a bridge, over a dark indigo river curved into a perfect circle. In the middle, the Silver Seal Tree stands tall and proud, a pillar of moonlit strength in this otherwise depressing place.
Salt crosses the bridge.
The Silver Seal Tree has lost some of its luster, the enormous, jagged hole in the middle revealing nothing but a bottomless void that swallows all light. The burnt edges of the hole are like a predator’s teeth, daring any to get too close and fall in, and the thick emerald vines wrapped around the length of the tree do nothing to hide it.
Some of its branches are wilting, some of its leaves gray and mottled with rot. The very air around the tree is thrumming with the Guardian’s magic, yes, but the stench of rot remains, an undercurrent of tension in the uneasy peace.
(The Guardian’s magic, now bearing the signature of White Lily Cookie. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, but Salt can. It now lacks that je ne sais quoi Elder Faerie carried—or maybe it is the same, and Salt is just too heartbroken to tell.)
At least the inside of the Seal Tree seems still. There really is no one here except himself.
The patches of ground underneath the exposed silver roots are thick with verdant grass, small wildflowers poking through with round, pastel petals. Between the gnarled roots that reach up to Silent Salt’s waist and the tiny flowers no bigger than his fingernail, the juxtaposition makes for a peculiar contrast.
Silent Salt Cookie looks up at the tree and lets his mind fade into quiet. He remembers when this tree was merely a sprout, and now it has grown into such a mystical creature in its own right.
How time has passed.
As he walks—careful not to step on the fragile wildflowers, and slowly as not to disturb the silence—around the Seal Tree, he notices a gap in the roots where they curve into the earth in a shape akin to a semicircle. There’s a bald patch in the ground where the grass grows short, almost flat against the ground.
He steps into it. The spot is smaller than his own feet, and he recognizes what might cause the grass to grow in such a way. If someone were to stand here, for ages at a time with their feet firmly planted in the dirt...
Turning his gaze upwards, he looks directly at the piece of silver bark in front of him. Lifting his hand and willing his fingers not to twitch, the blackened gauntlet stops just shy of the Silver Seal Tree.
...Nothing happens.
A part of him doesn’t dare to actually make contact with the tree. Who knows what might happen if he does? Will he get sucked in there again?
Although, it is funny how the tree doesn’t seem to acknowledge his existence, given he is, y’know, a Beast. Shouldn’t the ritual activate and do its job?
No, wait—the tree does know he’s there. It’s more like it simply doesn’t care. The magic humming around him is indifferent to him being right next to it—given literally nothing has happened.
What a fascinating conundrum. How unfortunate that the buzzing fatigue bone-deep in the recesses of his mind is preventing him from caring. Maybe he’ll discuss it with White Lily Cookie, after he leaves the Faerie Kingdom.
Silent Salt Cookie sighs. His arm flops back to his side. Why did he even come here?
The urgency that spurred him to come here at top speed surprises even himself. There is literally no reason for him to come here, lest something unfortunate happens. There is even less reason to come here, now that Elder Faerie is dead.
“...”
Foolish. He is foolish, and hopelessly sentimental. Weak and far too soft-hearted, that’s what he is. A fool. A idiot, making idiotic decisions.
“S...”
“What am I even doing here?” Silent Salt laughs darkly. “Stars above, I’m utterly ridiculous. Wasting my time!”
“Salt...”
The ex-Virtue buries his face in his hand, his neck feeling suddenly too weak to support his head. Metal meets metal with a dull clank. And now he’s starting to hallucinate Elder Faerie’s voice.
“Salt...”
“Nox is right.” Salt raises his head and glares across the bridge. His horse isn’t there, but it’s the principle of the matter. “I am going mad. Salt Cellar Cookie was also right, I should’ve stayed and rested...”
“Salt...!”
“What am I even doing?” Feeling lost, Salt looks up towards the sky in a rare show of vulnerability. The stars and the moon stare down at him, and no matter how much he wishes no answers to his questions reveal themselves. “This is utter folly. What has the world come to? Have I completely lost my path?”
“Salt...!?”
“Hah! Of course I have!” Self-deprecating laughter rings out in the empty clearing. Beneath the helmet, Silent Salt’s mouth has twisted into a strangled sneer. “What a villain I am...! Why, I should’ve just—”
“SALT!”
Silent Salt Cookie whips back around. Anger morphs into shock. It can’t be, it...
The clearing is still empty. He is still the only Cookie in the Faerie Kingdom.
Then, that voice...
Exasperatedly, Silent Salt Cookie closes his eyes and fights the urge to roll his eyes. Salt Cellar Cookie was right after all. He must’ve not recovered enough, and his mental health has taken a turn for the worse. Hallucinations are not particularly new to him, especially after his stint in the Tree. But for them to be this realistic...
White Lily Cookie did mention knowing how to brew medicine. Perhaps if he asked politely...?
“Where is that horse...” Salt turns back to the bridge and prepares to leave. “Nox! We’re leaving, where did you go? Did you get lost here again?”
The grass crunches under Salt’s boots.
“Nox! Where di—gAH!”
Something hard smacks down on the back of Silent Salt’s head, causing him to momentarily loose balance. He recovers swiftly and instinctively swivels around on his heel while unsheathing his greatsword.
Immediately, he casts his senses to look for an enemy, but again—there’s no one there. “Show yourself!” He demands, readying himself for battle. What kind of opponent could sneak up on him, here of all places?
The answer reveals itself when he takes half a step backward and his ankle knocks against something hard. Looking down, he sees...a snapped off silver branch?
His eyes dart up. There, up in the upper branches of the tree, a sizable stump where a branch used to be stares back down at him. From the wound, droplets of silvery sap begin to trickle downwards.
Faintly, Salt wonders if the tree is in pain. More concerningly, however, is the fact that a branch seemingly snapped off by itself.
“...!”
Oh stars, is the Tree actually in pain? Salt thinks incredulously. Did the Seal Tree somehow gain sentience during all these millennia?
“...Hello?” Silent Salt asks cautiously, lowering his sword. “Can you...hear me?”
The Silver Seal Tree offers no reply, only more silence.
Taking wary, miniature steps forwards, Silent Salt lowers his sword completely and steps right in front of the tree. Bracing himself, he places his blackened, gauntleted hand on the silver bark.
“...!”
A practically unnoticeable vibration runs through the wood. To Salt’s ears, it almost sounds like a muffled voice—like a Cookie is shouting through layers beyond layers of wool.
Since this is the Seal Tree, putting his ear up to the bark is probably a very unwise choice of action, but he does it anyway, only to find that his helmet would most likely block out the most minute of these strange sounds.
So, he exhales and takes off his helmet. Matted, knotted hair escapes the confines immediately, tumbling down his face and over his shoulders. Yes, he hasn’t had time to fix it; no, he will likely not fix it in the foreseeable future. One, he’s far too busy, and second—who’s going to notice if he puts his helmet back on? It’s been like that for literal ages—it’s likely unsalvageable at this point.
Irritably swiping a stray lock of knotted hair out of his eyes, Salt leans closer and presses his ear up to the Silver Seal Tree. Dough meets cool wood, the distinct thrum of magic tickling his earlobe.
One second, two seconds, three seconds go by and....predictably, nothing happens. The only result is the ex-Virtue half-kneeling in the grass with his ear pressed up against a tree, chasing after auditory hallucinations.
Yes, he really is a joke.
Just as he’s about to leave, though, that voice rings true and clear, as though shouting directly into his ear—
“Salt!”
Silent Salt reels back in shock. His tongue is glued stuck, any words he might’ve said have withered away on his tongue and drifted away as ash. His helmet, tucked under his arm, drops to the ground, clangs against a root and rolls away.
This time, he’s sure of it—it isn’t a hallucination. He hasn’t been hallucinating at all.
Impossible. Utterly impossible. This couldn’t possibly be...
Shock stuns his mind, rendering any thought moot. His brain goes blank, his eyes widen in disbelief. His jaw would’ve dropped straight open, if not for the fact that his teeth seem to have been wired shut.
His left hand seems to have developed a steady twitch in his fingers. Abruptly, he feels lightheaded—and he fully kneels on the grass, unable to stand.
No. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. It simply couldn’t. I saw it happen myself, I witnessed it with my own eyes, so...it’s impossible, to even consider it is ridiculous because it’s simply impossible!
Discarding what’s left of his dignity, Silent Salt presses his ear to the tree again, hoping beyond hope he really isn’t hallucinating. His heart begins to pound against his ribcage, there’s a steady tremor in his hands, and salt-crystal tears are beginning to prick at his eyes.
He forces his trembling mouth to form proper words. Summoning his courage, he whispers against the hard bark, “Elder—Elder Faerie?”
“Salt—!”
Oh, heavens above. There’s no mistaking it this time.
Is Elder Faerie Cookie—in the Silver Seal Tree?!