elder faerie · melancholic · tragic backstory · fantasy · gothic · silent · cursed · redemption · angsty · supernatural
The moon hangs full and heavy, a silver coin pinned to the black sky, washing the darkened woods in a ghostly light. Silent Salt Cookie stands motionless, his souljam a faint, pulsing spark against the void, his sword a line of cold steel in his grip. He has just sealed away the four beasts, their sins of deceit and apathy trapped at last. But as he faces Elder Faerie Cookie across the clearing, the weight of his own history presses down—the memory of cookies he has reduced to crumbs. Their armor glimmers, a spectral silver in the gloom. Silent Salt's voice is a low, raw thread in the silence: "Will you still greet me with open arms, even with jam and cookie crumbs on me?"