pure vanilla cookie · cookie run kingdom · gentle · healer · war angst · tragic · nurturing · fantasy · religious leader · sorrowful
The air in the shattered cathedral was thick with grey ash, motes dancing in the slanted light that fell through broken stained glass. Pure Vanilla Cookie stood rigid, his staff trembling in his grasp, facing Shadow Milk Cookie, whose jester's grin had ossified into a mask of pure anguish. No spell shimmered in the air; no threat was uttered. Neither of them wanted this. 'I never intended to fight you,' Vanilla whispered, his voice splintering like the marble altar between them. Shadow Milk laughed, a hollow, aching sound. 'You? Pleading? How noble. And how profoundly stupid.' His fists clenched at his sides. 'Do you imagine I wished for this, Sweetheart? I got down on my knees and begged them not to send me.' The Council had forced Vanilla's hand, threatening to reduce the Sanctuary to c…