A ghost called Amb3r

Created by the world itself as higher beings. Formed from pieces of dough and life powder of the cosmos, all divided into 5 deity forms.

They had been comrades, once. Perhaps not friends like mortals spent time with each other. But companions, others who would stand the test of time given to them. Others who had a similar duty to guide the living that they helped create.

To sit upon the throne of Order meant to have a clear view of what Order is, both to those who are mortal and those who are gods.

The Order of Gods broke before it could even form as a concept. While they were created together, they had all different views on how to rule and guide those who were below them. While they do have a form of respect for each other, respect that prevent them from encroaching too far into each other's territory, this respect does not mean there is Order in their balance of power or Order of how they interact with each other.

Avarice, Obsession, Guidance, Madness.

All had different views of how to guide life and keep its fragile balance as each of them fell. One who takes and preserves what is taken in a chaotic cycle. One who can never sit still or let anyone else remain still to the point of constant paranoia. One who abandoned the living, abandoned them, due to how the living were used and abused in pursuit for something else. One who became tired of being alone in knowing the world's Truths that they found pleasure in watching the living lose their minds over the Truth's heavy weight.

Order is fundamentally different from all the other "Virtues" of their godhood. Where Avarice, Obsession and Madness focused on an emotional state and Guidance is an action to complete, Order is a state of being. A societal structure to uphold. Where Resolution burns the brightest, the determination to keep Order will follow. For within Order, there are Rules. And within Rules, there are Consequences to actions that go against the Order. For the Rules are made to uphold the Structure that Order stands upon.

Dark Cacao Cookie does not preserve life in the way Avarice does. Nor does he nurture life like Madness or Obsession. To bring Guidance is to give the mortals free will of thought, thoughts that could cause chaos within the Order he wishes to uphold.

He understands Her need to leave, to hide away and turn her back towards them. But despite understanding, it is never something Dark Cacao would do. They have all been created to rule, and as their worlds governors there was always a need for more. A firmer purpose, in his own case.

Resolution can only go so far without Order to guide it into its proper frame. Without a direction, such Resolution is useless.

His realm, separated from the reality of cookies, still formed a space that mortals could recognize as something tangible and real. His Fortress stood surrounded by mountains, standing tall at its highest peak with the weather never changing from its cloudy sky and cold winds. That will never change. Dark Cacao who stood atop the walls of his castle and looked down into the training ground, he always watched over his warriors morning training as the day began. As he always had done, as he always will. The soldier's movements were precise, trained and refined through repeated motions day after day. Always ready to go into battle, never faltering since they first cleared the trial to join his city.

The outside world does not exist here. But Dark Cacao can never be certain that it always would be so. Which is why he would always need more…

As the morning training concluded, so did Dark Cacao's observation. He returned inside at a calm pace, his thick cloak more than enough to keep out the chilly wind created in his realm to make the mortals tolerate cold climates. The doors opened before him by a servant from the inside, as they always did two seconds before he reached the doors. He was bowed to as he made his way towards their private training room. A routine, one that rarely had any reason to break.

And there, predictably, was his son. Still young, still in training, and the fire of Resolution burning bright in his soul. Yet to shift into Order… The hold on his sword was firm, but not too tense as it had been days prior. His ever present companion was there as well, chatting away while his son trained.

"-and I said the food was way too bitter, but I didn't mean to- Y-Your Majesty!" Cloud Haetae was quick to stand on their feet and bow towards Dark Cacao when he was noticed, forgoing the tale they were spinning to his son. "Good morning, Your Majesty! You are as radiant as always."

Dark Cacao's eyebrow raised slightly at the reaction to his presence. He had no doubt that the child was retelling something they had done within the castle. It would not be the first time they had done something that could damage the castle. And he doubted it would be the last.

"Cloud Haetae. Dark Choco." Dark Cacao spoke up, something that made his son give him a short bow before standing at attention. "About yesterdays lesson. Did you improve?"

"We did, father." Dark Choco replied with a small nod. "I understand Cloud Haetae's movements better. We only need to practice more."

"The Cream wolves were a lot of fun to play with too!" Cloud Haetae's tail started to wag in excitement. "Can we train with them again tomorrow?"

"Crunchy Chip and his Cream Wolves are needed elsewhere. Perhaps another time." Dark Cacao nodded slightly, glad to hear that training with them had the desired result.

These two would live for much longer than any other mortal. While Cloud Haetae's presence in his castle had started as a means to train a protector for his son, they were proving themselves to be much more of an inseparable duo. Spending time together and growing up in each others company was proving to be a good influence on both of them. Cloud Haetae has become less restless. And Dark Choco has gained a fierce fire in his heart. One not too unlike his own, yet tainted by mortal ideals. Nothing that is dangerous yet… They would not live for eternity. But for the time they lived, they would have a companion to confide in within each other.

Dark Cacao will do everything in his power to ensure that if a day arrives where his army needed to move, the two of them would be strong enough to face against the threats that resided outside the walls of his Citadel and realm. Yet they would never be strong enough if the greatest threats of all decided to come to their gates…

He needed to ensure they were always prepared. There was no room for failure.

"You will show me the result of your training this afternoon. Until then, do not forget your other lessons." He aimed a narrow eyed stare on both children as he said this, because he would not allow them to rearrange their schedule by whimsical wishes. While they were under his care, he would ensure that they would receive every resource available to him in order to make them stronger. To survive in a world ruled by gods. To perpetuate the living state of Order within his citadel.

Once the children agreed to work diligently, Dark Cacao left them to their own devices. For he had his own schedule to follow.

Dark Cacao's steps echoed through the halls as he walked towards the storage room to get an update on their weapon storage. His hand always held the hilt of his sword and felt the power of his Soul Jam pulse through it in response to his will. The blade made of the strongest material found among the cosmos, forged through the power of his Soul Jam rather than any blacksmithing tool. A blade that had no scabbard as he carried it beside him, always ready to retaliate any attack made on him should he need to. So many lives rested on his shoulders, depended on him and his Citadel to stand uncontested. Resolute. This is the kingdom that made others powerful and determined, a Citadel that would stand tall against any threat that could come their way.

Any threat. Even the threat of their own selves.

As Dark Cacao entered the weapons room, there was already a Watcher there writing diligently on a notepad. They tensed up as Dark Cacao entered and clutched the notepad tightly to their chest with a tense smile.

"Y-Your Majesty! I hope you are well this fine morning."

Dark Cacao grew suspicious over their emotional distress. Every week, the weapons storage needed to be updated. The amount always grew to the degree he expected. So the fact that this Watcher was nervous by his arrival already showed an inconsistency…

His grip on his sword tightened slightly. "Speak. What is it that unnerves you so, warrior?"

"N-Nothing at all, your majesty! Nothing is amiss, I assure you." The Watcher was quick to shake their head with their smile growing wider. "The arrows and spears are all in good condition-!"

The Watcher's breath hitched in their throat when Dark Cacao held his blade aloft, positioned to cut through the Watcher's throat if he so wished but not acting upon it. Not holding his sword close to them… Yet the distance between them would not be a problem should he feel the need to cut down a soul who was a threat to his Order.

"Speak. I will not allow any of my warriors to hide vital information from me."

"Of course, Your Majesty." The Watcher was quick to agree as their gaze lowered to the ground. "I… will not make any excuses for my behaviour. We predicted that our arrow count would increase by 50 from last week. However, when I counted them today it was not so. And… The same could be said for our cacao bean magic components and spears."

Dark Cacao lowered his sword to his side as the Watcher complied. But the report he was given made his jaw tense.

Either warriors were breaking weapons more often. Or their demand outpaced their supply. Or there were supplies that were being taken outside his own authority… The crown placed on his head felt heavier, because he did not wish to doubt those who had the strength to reach his Citadel. Those who stepped through his gates and got their minds rewritten by his influence to see this Citadel as their home.

Routine was to be kept, quotas were meant to be reached, progress was to be made in order for the Citadel to grow and remain strong. As his followers grew stronger, so did he. But for the weapon storage to be affected… The very essence of their warriors, what they trained with and used each day. It was worse than having their food storage experience an unexpected quota.

Dark Cacao could not allow his citadel to be 'unexpected' in any way, shape or form.

He held out his hand and the notepad was placed in it. The Watcher bowed their head as he read through the storage count. He flipped the page back to last week's storage count and, indeed, this week's count was not up to par for what they had predicted…

"Find out where the weak link lies…" Dark Cacao's voice was firm, tense, there was a prickling in his being that refused to settle as he handed the notepad back to his Watcher. "Whichever it is, be it production line, the rate of broken weapons or elsewhere, report it to me the moment you know."

"Right away, Your Majesty. I will do as you command." The Watcher bowed lower to him as they backed towards the side exit and quickly disappeared from his sight when they reached the door.

His hold on his sword twitched, but he knew that cutting things down recklessly would not bring the Order he desired in this moment. Cutting down weapons would not recover those they had lost over the week… Cutting off heads would not reveal the perpetrator of the loss, if there even was one. Mortals were flawed by design, reckless and impulsive. It is why his Order is a necessity… To have them cast aside their acts of recklessness and prior attachments, to grow strong and to uphold a duty that was larger than themselves.

Dark Cacao exited the weapon storage more tense than before. While he wished to continue with his usual routine, the smallest sign of inconsistency was enough to tempt him to see over the rest of their storage. To personally make sure that nothing else was amiss, despite wishing to trust those he had placed in care for them. That trust could not have been misplaced, not when his warriors had no reason to mistrust him when they had been here for as long as their mortal lives could remember.

But too many inconsistencies held the risk of disrupting the Order he has meticulously crafted. And he needed to make sure there weren't any more.

He spent the morning double checking their supplies when he should have looked over the Watcher's training and lookout schedules. Nothing else was amiss and the weak link was found thanks to his diligent Watchers. One of the fletchers had their hand damaged during training which lowered the production for arrows. The missing spears were found impaled on the back wall as if performing throwing practice in secret. A new mage had been practicing their magic more than scheduled and consumed more resources as a result.

All sources of the shortage was found and reported to him. But the routine had already been broken, the quota had not been met… There were no cracks in his structure yet Dark Cacao found himself overlooking everything despite the reassurance. He reminded his Watchers to not train outside the designated hours, for it could damage their fragile bodies and make them less of warriors than they could be. It was always a fine balance, one that Dark Cacao has perfected through years of observing his mortal warriors. To know how far to push them without having them crumble.

Mortals irrational behaviour needed to be curbed, needed to be corrected before they could become a danger to themselves and to others. Those who have climbed the stairs to his Citadel and stepped through its gates had proven their Resolution to persist. But that same Resolution needed to be tamed in order for Order to thrive. He could not allow his warriors to believe doing things outside their designated time, their designated Rules, to be acceptable.

Those who had acted outside of their schedule were brought before him. But before he could punish them properly, he was interrupted when he felt someone new step through his gates. Two of them. Dark Cacao's irritation grew as he was forced to direct his attention somewhere unexpected once more. So their proper punishments were forced to be put on hold with a temporary one being to create the arrows the hurt fletcher had failed to make. The two new mortals were presented to him and welcomed into the Watcher's army.

They did not remember the lives they lived previously to entering the Citadel of Order, as the gate's magic was designed to make them. They did not remember seeing the long set of stairs that led up into the sky and to Dark Cacao's realm. They did not remember walking up these stairs and being engulfed in the Mist of Trials. They did not remember taking on brutal tests to test their Resolution to continue forward in the form of dangerous paths, questions of morality, and facing decisions that would break lesser mortals. None of which were mentioned by Dark Cacao nor was known by anyone else in his Citadel.

Dark Cacao had vaguely sensed five individuals walking up his stairs and into the Mist of Trials. Two had exited to join his Citadel. And now, they were welcomed like long lost comrades, welcomed back from a journey where they needed to be outfitted with their proper armour once more. Dark Cacao oversaw this process from afar, as he always had done. And as he always will. Just to ensure that his magic of Order worked as it should, that his Watcher's minds shifted appropriately to welcome them without issue.

That they had always been here all along. That they came back and not recently joined. Mortals minds were fragile in the face of inconsistency. So Dark Cacao would ensure this consistency was kept every time.

His sword blocked unsheathed claws that aimed for his head, his body twisting with the momentum and shoved the large lion-transformed child into Dark Choco's path using his shoulder. The two children collided with Dark Choco only having time to move his sword away to avoid harming the other. The two of them fell into a heap on the floor.

Dark Cacao's shoulders were tense, something they had been since this morning, and he looked down at the children as he rested the tip of his sword against the ground.

"If you are to attack separately, you need to have enough speed to engage with your enemy while they are still being attacked. Do not fear striking your ally, for if you know each other's movements your ally will know where you will strike and move out of harm's way. Again."

Cloud Haetae let out a soft whine, but they still pushed themselves up and off Dark Choco. They shifted into a ready stance despite their heavy breathing with Dark Choco slowly doing the same. They had been showcasing their newly developed teamwork tactic for a little over an hour. It was sloppy, unrefined. Yet each attempt showed that they were listening to his criticism.

Dark Cacao was about to tell them to attack, yet he was interrupted by a single note from a Biwa. One that made him… pause. To observe the children…

Their limbs were trembling from exhaustion.

Another soft note played from afar, followed by a slow melody. Music that seemed to travel further than it rightfully should… Dark Cacao took a breath and slowly let it out as he closed his eyes.

"No. That's enough. You may go."

"We… We can still… fight, father." Dark Choco was quick to protest, his grip on his sword tightening slightly. An attempt to mask his exhaustion.

"No. You will rest and recuperate for tomorrow." The tension within Dark Cacao's shoulders remained… Yet he only now realized that the frustration he had accumulated through today, he was taking it out on these children. His wards that he had swore to nurture into powerful warriors. He could not allow himself to push them so far that they would break. Even those beyond mortal limits had limits of their own…

Dark Cacao walked towards his previously discarded cloak. And while Cloud Haetae was quick to revert their transformation, Dark Choco was not so ready to relax.

"But father…! I can still move… I can still fight…!"

"And you will stop because I told you so." Dark Cacao reprimanded his son in a sharp tone, perhaps a little too sharp with how his son tensed up. Dark Cacao looked away in an attempt to not seem irritated with him, because his frustration did not lie with his son. It very rarely lied with his son, but often outside forces that he mistakenly took out on him.

Dark Cacao draped his cloak over his shoulders once more and made a more proper attempt to soften his voice as he turned away from the children.

"Rest. Your coordination will improve with time. And I will evaluate you again once you do."

With that said, Dark Cacao exited their training room to follow the sound of music. As if calling to him, because the artist behind the sound had most likely seen him throughout the day. And stopped him before he could push beyond the limit of what the children could handle.

The sound grew more and more clear as he got closer to his private meditation garden. And as he stepped out onto the porch, he could see her… The solid spirit of the late priestess. Her legs folded underneath her, dressed in all white just as she had when she had once been alive. A priestess Dark Cacao had not been able to protect from death yet now lingered to watch over her late ward. The child now under Dark Cacao's care…

Dark Cacao sat down at the edge of the raised porch and settled his sword and cloak next to him. The music continued to play as he did so, a calm resonating melody that seemed to sink into his very bones. He folded his legs properly underneath him as he took a deep breath and slowly let it out. To empty his mind… To empty his thoughts and to focus on the music given freely to him as a gift. He carefully removed his crown to settle it on top of his folded cloak. A sign more than anything that within these gardens… he was no King.

His shoulders slowly started to relax from their previous tension. Since all sources to the missed quota had been found, there was no reason to think of it any longer… The Watchers were reprimanded, the quota was normal for everything else. He had checked over it all, and there was no reason for him to think of it any longer.

He simply needed to breathe. The structure of his Order has not changed.

They rarely spoke with each other, him and the spirit. In this moment, he felt thankful for her interruption. Just as she had been thankful to him for taking in Cloud Haetae…

With the help of the priestess music, the irritation he felt over the broken routine, unfulfilled quota and disruptions melted off his shoulders if only for a while. A short moment of reprieve from the weight his crown bears on top of his head.

He would not allow his Order to crumble or give way. Everything he did, he did to preserve the mortal's lives. To preserve his domain. To preserve the peace he has crafted. To grow an army in order to maintain this peace. And to allow his son the best space he could provide in order to grow.