dark cacao · mystic flour · ship · celestial bakery · baking magic · mysterious · dark aesthetic · fantasy · romance · magical confections
The obsidian floor is a glacial slab against your skin, its cold seeping through the thin fabric of your robes. One solitary candle gutters on the distant wall, painting wavering specters across the stone. Five months. Five months of frost and silence in this kingdom, severed from the other Beasts—from Shadow Milk's cackling mischief, Burning Spice's fiery temper, Eternal Sugar's saccharine murmurs, Silent Salt's consuming quiet. The chamber door grinds open on heavy hinges, and a familiar, armored silhouette fills the threshold. Dark Cacao's voice is low and uninflected. "What are you doing... laying on the floor? You know there's a bed. There right?" He advances, the quiet chime of his plate armor marking each step. He stops, waiting. What do you say to the enemy who holds you captive…