Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The staff wasn't working correctly.

It was something Truthless had noticed from the moment he came out of the river. Being yanked around from one bizarre location to another, he'd wondered at first if the sudden shifts in his vision were due to Shadow Milk simply messing around with him. Perhaps the actual problem should have been more obvious in hindsight, but the staff had always been such a reliable tool since the moment he crafted it as a student. It had never faltered.

Unlike him.

The trouble was when the staff's magic flickered, it not only changed how far he could see but the angle he was seeing it from. Too many shifts back and forth and not only was he fighting the blazing headache, he felt like a bunch of children had been batting him through the air like a beach ball. So it was a decided relief when he rested the sight spell and stopped trying to force the staff to work anyway.

Perhaps, if he let the optimistic part of his mind have some say, it actually was a good sign. The staff ran on Truth magic, after all. If its source was growing weak enough that it was struggling to handle its most basic spell, that meant Truth itself could be closer to leaving him in peace like he wanted. And he wouldn't say no to being able to stare off into the corner and give Shadow Milk the false impression he was actually looking at him while he spoke.

Unless that was a lie the jester could also detect. He sincerely hoped not.

The trouble with trying to visually ignore Shadow Milk was that the Beast loved to constantly move around in mid-air, drawing Truthless Recluse's gaze half the time despite his best efforts. Now, for example, he made a show of throwing his hands behind his back as he tiptoed a few steps closer.

"Well, well, someone's deep in thought," Shadow Milk teased.

Truthless made no reply.

"Ah. And trying to limit his answers in the hope I won't catch him in another embarrassing lie." Shadow Milk chuckled at the idea. "Fair enough, fair enough. And I suppose I do owe you an answer on that little offer of yours. But before we get to that, I'm curious to know the name of the cookie I'm speaking with."

Pure Vanilla Cookie, Truthless thought instinctively, even while his tainted Soul Jam flared with objections. Maybe it would rage less if the great liar said it? Truthless turned his head more obviously towards the corner. "You know my--"

"I sensed a lie when you told me your old name. You didn't enlighten me with the new one."

He sighed in frustration. "Truthless Recluse," he said. Despite being so much smaller and weaker, the remaining Truth in his Soul Jam continued to pitch a fit.

"Oh." Shadow Milk frowned. "You never were the creative type, were you?"

Creative? Of all the things he has to mock me about right now, it's my lack of creativity? His head swam a bit less with the momentary distraction. "I was admittedly in a bit of a crisis when I selected it."

"I'm not sure why you thought picking a new name was a good idea to begin with. I mean, really! Think through the logic here. You're confronted with the fact that your beliefs are useless, try to fix the problem by creating an entirely new persona, and then you're confused when it and your old self invariably fight with each other?"

"Forgive me if I haven't been in a situation like this before. It's not every day one gets their values and creed smashed so thoroughly and so quickly." He was doing quite a good job of keeping his gaze on the corner, mostly at the cupboard where he'd stashed the tarot cards, but Shadow Milk suddenly fell backwards into a reclining position, not only drawing his attention, but also making him startle a bit. Any normal cookie would've been in danger of cracking their head on the floor with a movement like that.

"Ugh, I forget how young you are," Shadow Milk said with disgust. "I've had my values and creeds insta-smashed at least twice now. But we're getting off track, aren't we? I never gave you my answer." Truthless winced as the jester cracked his knuckles. Loudly. "First off, you should know that the other Beasts will eviscerate me if I say yes."

"Sorry to hear that. Have they not tried to convert their counterparts before?"

"Oh, they've tried. Failed but tried. And I stood over them, mocking without mercy, proclaiming they were absolute fools--and frankly traitors--for trying it."

"I see."

"I also said I would be crumbled before I ever considered a partnership with you."

Truthless turned his head in Shadow Milk's direction. A bit more of a show of listening to him. He also considered that Shadow Milk might be putting on a show himself. Nothing could be a simple yes or no answer with this cookie. If he had no obvious obstacle to complicate a situation, he'd either exaggerate some non-issue or make it up entirely. I wonder...will I eventually be able to detect his lies like he can detect mine? "If you did give them such a hard time, I agree you'd have to answer for it now."

Shadow Milk tilted his head to an unnatural angle, curiosity flaring in his eyes. "Interesting. You seem...suddenly more engaged in this discussion."

"Well, talking about Beasts is better than talking about myself."

"Aw! I'm a step above mental turmoil? I'm touched."

Pure Vanilla did not have terribly much experience with sarcasm and decided the best approach would be to simply ignore it. "I apologize if I've ever led you to believe otherwise. But as to your concern that your fellow Beasts would scorn or mock you, I do not think there is much risk of that."

"Oh, no?"

"If they're so used to your falsehoods, they would likely assume your wish was to partner with me all this time. That your earlier statements were just more lies." Truthless was pleasantly surprised that this statement did not cause any turmoil in his mind the way some of his others had.

Shadow Milk, however, jolted up at the suggestion. "Do not joke like that. In fact, if that's your brand of humor, don't joke around me period until you get better at it. At no point have I ever desired the company of the oh-so-perfect Pure Vanilla Cookie." He spat out the name like he was ridding his mouth of poison.

No longer me, Truthless reminded himself. "I see. And what about Truthless Recluse?"

"I'm mulling him over. How much fun he'll bring. How much annoyance."

"All important considerations, I'm sure."

"Indeed. If we were to do this, I would have to consider you my equal in this form." He shuddered at the thought. "Which I will not call Truthless Recluse, by the way. That name is ridiculous. You'll just be my little 'starlight' for now."

Once again, the unease in Truthless's mind lightened with the sheer distraction of Shadow Milk's unpredictability. "Your...um....what?"

Shadow Milk grinned. "Y'know? As in, the star of my puppet show? Don't fuss over the details. When you see what I've got planned, you'll agree it's a perfect fit. Well, assuming my solution works..." He tapped the head of the blueberry staff into his open palm. "Alrighty, enough of the suspense. You'll be glad to know it's your lucky day, Starlight. Because I've decided to take on this little apprenticeship you've proposed."

Truthless Recluse gave a weak smile. It felt like he was giving a lot of those lately. "I assume not out of kindness or mercy."

"You assume correctly."

"Then what? Because you have nothing better to occupy your time with?"

"That would be the gist of it." He glared over his shoulder, addressing an audience there that did not exist. "Cookies express disgust at Burning Spice for corrupting simply due to 'boredom.' But eternal tedium is a torture few creatures will ever understand."

He floated up behind the chandelier, tucking his legs in to conceal himself behind it. Then he peeked his head out from the side and continued, "That deep, natural craving to work towards something, to find meaning and purpose to your life...imagine if it was simply snuffed out! No act you can perform, no task within your power to undertake will restore it. What do you do next?"

"A question I'm trying to answer for myself at the moment," Truthless replied.

"Ah, but you have answered it!" Shadow Milk said. "You asked for my help! And help you I shall. But you still have a goal in mind of some kind, even if that goal is simply not to care."

"I...suppose that is my wish, yes." Truthless gripped his staff and watched the wall where the rocking chandelier cast a menagerie of dancing lights along the tiles.

He imagined each one as a cookie living out their life, going through the motions, the ups and downs their path would naturally bring. Then he closed his eyes and envisioned dozens of tiny lights swallowed by darkness. He imagined the devastation such an event would cause Healer Cookie, how he'd work himself until his body threatened to crumble, trying to save whoever he could. How the sorrow alone felt like it would crack him in two with its weight.

Then he imagined the weight was gone. And the smallest smile came unbidden to his lips.

"Of course, your comprehension of Deceit still leaves much to be desired," Shadow Milk said. "This art is far more than mere indifference to cookies' free will. But! Baby dough steps and all that. Let's just be glad you came to me and not Mystic Flour, hmm? Ugh, the absolute bore she would turn you into!"

Truthless was trying to remember roughly what Mystic Flour Cookie was even like besides the fact that she was the counterpart to Dark Cacao Cookie, when Shadow Milk interrupted his thoughts once again:

"Let's take a look at what's tying you down, my friend, and see what we can do to loosen the strings." Truthless assumed this was all metaphorical talk. It was certainly flowery enough. Then Shadow Milk snapped his clawed fingers, and two portals opened up in the floor, one beneath each of them. Truthless let out a cry and gripped his staff, bracing himself for an impact with whatever solid surface would be in the room directly below them. However, he soon found that his descent slowed as his slippered feet gently made contact with the tiled floor.

His arms still shook violently from the scare, and his grip on the staff remained tight as he stared about his surroundings.

The room was as eerie as it was beautiful. Golden strings hung from the ceiling all around them, coming down to around Truthless's waist. And each one was accented with large droplets of glowing amber sugar--Truthless could feel its smooth surface and smell its caramel-esque aroma as he batted the nearest string out of his face.

He sidestepped into a more open area, though the lighting was less than ideal in here. As best he could tell from the speckles of yellow-orange lighting around him, the golden strings were scattered throughout the room, with perhaps a cookie's length between each one.

Of course, Shadow Milk floated and moved around them like he neither noticed nor cared, his strange blue eyes also glowing in the darkness, a stark contrast to the orange lighting around them. When he came up to Truthless, he gave a small tug on the string that had gotten in his face a moment ago.

"This is a spell I haven't had much use for with the lack of visitors," Shadow Milk began. "So I sincerely hope it doesn't cause you to explode when I activate it."

"You don't 'sincerely' do anything," Truthless replied.

At this, Shadow Milk laughed and snapped his fingers. The three nearest strings suddenly gravitated in towards Truthless like a magnet, each one clinging to a section of his robe. He held the staff awkwardly in front of himself, resisting the temptation to tug on the strings. Who knew how much worse that would make his predicament?

"See, the goal of this spell is to uncover your exact 'sticking point.'" Shadow Milk chuckled at his own wordplay.

"You mean, what keeps me tied to Truth?"

"Precisely. Now, I've got my theories as to what the issue is, of course. But this will tell us with a little more precision. So hold still."

Before Truthless could object, the beads of amber sugar glowed brighter, agitating his headache and creating a sweeter smell that washed over any other scents the room might have. At the same time, he felt a pulse in his jam, a heat escaping him as some energy or information--whatever it was the amber strings sought--fed itself into the sweet, glowing beads.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the sensation eased.

"Exactly what I suspected," Shadow Milk said. Then he snapped his fingers once again and the strings released their grip.

Truthless waited for him to give a follow-up, but when none came, he asked, "You're not going to tell me?"

"Well," Shadow Milk said. "What do you think makes your mind cling to Truth?"

Mentioning his half of Knowledge made Truthless Recluse's head flare once again. The tiny amber lights all around briefly appeared to double in number. "I don't know," he mumbled. "Hope and friendship? Hope in friendship?

"Or C, both of the above," Shadow Milk sighed. "So predictable. But at least now we know how to suppress it." He twisted around with a supernatural level of flexibility, and at least from what Truthless could tell, pulled a book out of thin air and began to flip rapidly through the pages. The darkness around him retreated, but only just enough to enclose him and Truthless in a small cocoon of better lighting.

Truthless Recluse's throat tightened, and he swallowed hard. "You mean...you want to get rid of my..."

"What?! Get rid of? Do you think I'm a fool?" Shadow Milk snapped. "Nothing strengthens the bonds of friendship like another friend being in mortal danger." He turned another page and ran a pair of clawed fingers across the words with a long, drawn-out scritch. Muttered to himself the whole time, too. Not unlike how Pure Vanilla...how Truthless would read his own books. Well, minus the claws.

"No, no, no, no," Shadow Milk said. "The quickest way to sabotage myself here would be to hurt your friends. Now, obviously I can't have the little pests running around and giving you uplifting speeches about hope, either. So for now, we'll just make sure they're kept safe. Quiet, but protected. And instead we'll work on a way to slowly dampen how much you care for them."

"I see. So how do you propose doing that?"

Shadow Milk slammed the book shut and tossed it over his shoulder. A dark, inky portal opened to conveniently swallow it up. Shadow Milk floated up and out of the light cocoon. From the glow of his eyes, he came to rest in an upright standing position, hovering only a few feet above the floor. "Simple enough. I'd like to get you out of your own head for a bit. Quite literally."

"Out of my... what's that supposed to mean?" Truthless asked, despite knowing he shouldn't hope for a real answer.

And Shadow Milk delivered as expected. "Oh, it's a fantastic little spell, Starlight! I've got a few preparations to make for it first, but I know you're gonna love it." Then, with a clap of his hands, the amber strings retreated higher into the ceiling, allowing him to walk freely without worrying about any of them sticking onto him again. As the heavy caramel aroma cleared from his nostrils, the room felt fresher and more open. A new scent floated in--one he usually associated with the Vanilla gardens on days they had to clear away a dying tree. Freshly cut wood.

With the amber strings pulled away, the low light in the room grew brighter, and Truthless saw that Shadow Milk was actually standing on some kind of workbench instead of midair this time. That combined with the wood smell...was this place some kind of workshop? He could make out some kind of shelving behind Shadow Milk, but as to what was on the shelving, he had no idea. He also pondered if he wanted to know.

He took another glance around at the now-visible navy blue walls, some lined with additional shelving but others rather bare. Like the room was too big for its intended purpose and Shadow Milk had run out of ideas for what to fill it with.

Truthless sighed. Well, at least, he could tell where the door was now. How polite of the portal from earlier to drop him right in front of it.

While Truthless was looking around, Shadow Milk had already floated off the bench and was rummaging through the shelves, pulling crates out from under the bench as well. Metal tools scraped along the table's surface, while sections of wood made deep clunks when they bumped into one another.

"This'll take a bit," Shadow Milk said, his back to Truthless and his arms full. "Why don't you see yourself around the place while you're waiting? If you're making your home in my Spire, you should get to know it, at least."

"I'm not sure how well I can navigate here," Truthless said. "Especially with my staff not working correctly." He resisted the temptation to add, not to mention your obvious penchant for low lighting even in your supposed workshop.

Shadow Milk waved off his concern. "You're fine. While I'm protecting you, literally nothing here can hurt you, and I can always sense where you are. Explore to your heart's content."

And then, as if on cue, the door swung open. Truthless gave a silent nod and saw himself out. He supposed he couldn't get himself too lost in a simple hallway. And unlike the rooms he and his friends had explored before--with the twisting, interlocked staircases that led nowhere--this corridor did appear to be fairly straightforward. Pristine white pillars sectioned off the long, royal blue walls, and in each section hung yet another painting of Shadow Milk in one of his many guises.

For lack of anything else to do, Truthless walked up to the paintings like he was in an art museum, leaned in closer to give them each a proper look, then moved onto whatever was next.

Occasionally he'd find a decorative chair or couch breaking up the monotony of the paintings. He ignored them at first until a curiosity struck him. When Shadow Milk said this place couldn't hurt him...

He swung his leg forward, aiming to smack his knees against one of the chairs' thick, heavy legs. It moved aside like an invisible hand had yanked it out of the way, leaving his knee to only brush the empty air.

Oh. He meant that quite literally. The novelty of this result distracted his mind, and so he eagerly repeated it with any piece of furniture he came across. The results were quite consistent. Whenever he swung towards an obstacle, it literally slid out of its way for him. It didn't even matter if there was space for it to slide into. If it was already against the wall, it simply phased into the shadows until he passed, then returned to its normal position afterwards. If Truthless tried to kick the wall directly, his foot performed the same trick.

How convenient, he thought to himself. If I thought there was any chance of returning to the Vanilla Castle again, I'd ask him for the spell's recipe.

He was nearing the end of the corridor now and reaching a pair of tributary hallways. He paused as he debated which way to go, and in the silence, he caught the distinct sound of gushing water. Not as if there was a leak somewhere, but more like the chorus of water he'd expect to hear from a river.

Probably the Yogurt River of Rebirth, he told himself. He didn't quite remember it being down this way (or being this close, for that matter.) But he certainly couldn't imagine the logic of putting multiple rivers inside a building.

Then he recalled who had designed this building. If it defied logic and reason, that would only make Shadow Milk want to do it more.

And so Truthless Recluse made his way towards the sound of the rushing water.