#finding this parallel kinda interesting...

The Salt of Solidarity approached the Spire of All Knowledge, the aftermath of the uprising clear as day. Parts of the nearby woods were scorched and burnt, destroyed furniture was littered around the perimeter, pithforks and other weaponry was left behind by the mob. Upon reaching the large doors, he got off of Nox Black Salt, not needing to tie him knowing that the horse would never leave under any circumstances. The knight went up the steps, knocking on the old doors, which were now covered in scratch marks and dents.

“Milk of Knowledge? It is I, the Salt of Solidarity.”

He was met with silence, his knocks echoing across the abandoned plot. He flinched upon a plotted plant falling over to his left, revealing a small door.

…I see.

He went down the stairs, crouching in order to get through the door. Inside, there was a spiral staircase leading upwards. The sudden appearance of the door and the staircase that could not be seen from the outside did not make any sense, but Salt was aware that the Spire did not obey the laws of reality. This entire place was part of the Milk of Knowledge, as part of him as his hands and feet were. 

Upon exiting the stairwell, he found himself in a hallway with only one door at the very end. When he opened the door he finally saw the Fount, sitting by a window overlooking the land below. The room was dark and empty, save from a small table with a chess board on it. When the Fount turned to look at him, he saw the bandages over his neck.

“Lord Commander.”

“Fount of Knowledge. Are you unhurt? I wanted to ensure your well-being.”

“I’m… fine,” the Fount blinked slowly. “The Cookies are… well, you know how they are.”

He became quiet, leaving the knight simply standing there, the air between them tense.

“Wh-where were you… your knights when they started getting out of hand?”

“You’ve heard about the collapse of the empire in the Spicelands, I assume. Well, it sparked even more turmoil as thousands of refugees began pouring into the Garden of Delights and the Ivory Pagoda. So not only did we need to mitigate the crisis in the Spicelands, but we also had to ensure the safe flow of refugees,” he explained. “But I am aware that is no excuse. I apologize for not being there.”

The Fount of Knowledge stared at him for a moment, before a chair spawned across from him by the table.

“Come. Play with me,” he gestured for the Salt of Solidarity to sit.

The game began the moment the knight sat, with the Fount moving the first white piece. They continued in silence, until the Fount had taken half of Salt’s pieces. 

“What would you do if it happened to you?”

“Pardon?”

“If… what happened to me… happened to you?”

The Salt of Solidarity picked up a piece, but didn’t put it down as he tried to think.

“My knights would never turn on me,” he finally said, setting his piece down. “I hold them in trust as I do myself. They are utterly loyal to the cause of Solidarity. I would trust them with my life every time.”

“And the civilians? The ones you swore to protect?”

“Should they ever forsake me, the fault would lie with me, and me alone,” he watched as Fount moved a piece across the board, taking out the piece he had just moved. “If the ones I’m sworn to protect rise in treason, then it would be a failure on my part, not my knights. I shall not let them suffer the burden of my own folly.”

“Aha. How noble,” the Fount watched Salt’s next move, but just continued staring at the board. “So… would you say what happened was… my fault?”

“Of course. While I would never blame you for the mob’s violent wrath, their fury lies on your poor mismanagement. Your job is to teach and instruct, and clearly if they responded in such a way, you have failed.”

“Right,” the Fount finally made his move, though he was no longer looking at the board. “Yes. That makes sense.”

The Salt of Solidarity stopped to observe the board, surveying his potential moves.

“What would you do if you betrayed them?”

He looked up at the Fount, who, despite his neutral expression, was keenly observing his reaction.

“What would you do if you committed an act that betrayed your very Virtue?”

The knight stared at the board again.

“Our sacred mission, bestowed to us by the Divines, is to uphold our Virtues. If I were to ever falter in such duty, to commit such a blasphemous act, there would be no room for forgiveness or mercy. I would simply have no reason to live.”

The Fount of Knowledge let out a small laugh.

“Oh? So if we fail our mission we should just die?”

“Yes,” he said, finally moving his piece.

“What about the civilians?”

“Their wellbeing matters more to me.”

“Your knights?”

“I have taught them well. They shall prevail without me. Even if I am gone, they shall uphold the banner of Solidarity."

“...what about that silver faerie?”

…

“How would he react if you destroyed yourself?”

…

“I haven’t seen him in… how long has it been? One thousand… two thousand years? Anyway, I could always tell that you two were quite fond of each other.”

“Elder Faerie has the Faerie Kingdom to look after.”

“Oh? So the rumors are true? There is a mysterious kingdom in those old woods?” The Fount of Knowledge picked up a piece, but began tossing it between his hands. “A hidden kingdom I have never seen before. Wow. Perhaps I should pay a visit to… Elder Faerie? That’s what he calls himself, now?”

“I doubt they would allow you entry. They are very secretive. Moreover, Elder Faerie is like us, he was not granted a name.”

“Don’t say that fool is like us,” the Fount put down the piece. “His witch just lets him do whatever he wants. Besides, you didn’t answer my question.”

The Fount of Knowledge leaned forward.

“You don’t need to, though. I am the Divine Emissary of Knowledge. I know the answer. If you were gone, you’d be nothing more than a trauma to poor Elder Faerie. A burden he’d have to shoulder for the rest of his life. Do you want that?”

“...Elder Faerie can live without me. I would not live without Elder Faerie.”

“Huh?”

“It is simply the truth. I put myself in more danger than Elder Faerie, and even if something were to threaten the Faerie Kingdom, I’d be there.”

“Oh, like you totally were there for me?”

“There is no world where Elder Faerie is gone, and I’m still alive,” he ignored the Fount’s snide remark, moving his piece. “Checkmate.”

The Fount flinched, looking over the board, before grumbling to himself.

“Did you ever notice what Elder Faerie is made of? He’s made of pure silver.”

“I know.”

“It’s like the witch who created him took a piece of silver and continuously purified it over and over until it was spotless. Do you know how much Life Energy silver that purified would contain?”

“I am aware.”

“That's enough to kill a witch, you understand? And yet the one who created him put it in a Cookie. She could have chosen anything else to do with it and yet she put it in a pastry. And he’s not like us either, who have a purpose with our powers. No, he just has it… unless he does have a purpose.”

“That is just what she wanted to make him with, I presume.”

The Fount frowned.

“The giant yeast spores in the Silverwood Forest… they appeared after that faerie came to Earthbread. And where did the other faeries in that kingdom come from? I sure as hell know that it wasn’t the Witches that created them for Elder Faerie.”

“Mm.”

“Lord Commander,” the Fount of Knowledge stood up, prompting the knight to do the same. “I know you are not stupid. I know you probably noticed these things earlier than I did. So why do you ignore all of it?”

…

“Or are you like everyone else? Do you just want to neglect the Truth?”

“Milk of Knowledge,” he finally responded after a few moments of silence. “Has anyone ever cared about you enough that they would willingly bear the weight of grief for you?”

The Divine Emissary just stared.

“Have you ever loved someone so much that you were willing to overlook their unmistakable faults?”

…

“The answer is no. No one has ever cared about you enough to do such things for you. You have never been devoted enough to someone to do such things for them. So who are you to pass judgement on Elder Faerie? On me?”

He turned to leave, almost out the door before he heard the whisper. “You don’t care about me?”

He stopped, turning to look at the Fount.

“Milk. Don’t be childish.”

Then he left.

…

The Salt of Solidarity watched as Elder Faerie flew up to the branches of the Silver Tree, tending to them. It was already so big, almost fully matured; in a few short decades, their work would be complete. A couple faeries passed by, gazing up to watch their king before continuing with their duties. Their eyes would eventually fall on the Divine Emissary, but they would never recognize him, for Salt would always put on a spell that made him look completely cloaked in white. 

He watched the way the sunlight shone through Elder Faerie’s wings, casting colored light onto the ground below. The light even made Elder Faerie himself glow as it reflected his metal armor and silver dough. The thought reminded him of his conversation with the Milk of Knowledge the day prior, which prompted the knight to look to the ground. 

Elder Faerie Cookie…

It always felt so easy to care about the faerie. From the moment he first saw him, he was filled with a sense of curiosity and admiration that only seemed to grow as they got closer. What perhaps started as innocent interest grew into this deep attachment he couldn’t let go of. For the longest time, he wasn’t sure why he felt this way, but slowly, he had begun to figure it out. Throughout the eons of his existence, through countless wars and strife, from the fall of empires and ages gone by, witnessing generations pass on and lineages die out… Elder Faerie had always been there. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he cared so deeply, but his heart kept betraying him, dragging him back to marveling at how easy it was, even though he knew it wasn’t fair to either of them. He knew that true bonds were forged through tribulation, that there had to be struggle to reach real understanding. That is what Solidarity was, but in truth, it felt like he was treading the water when it came to Elder Faerie. He knew that there was something deeper, something beneath the surface, but the selfish part of him didn’t want to look. After all the hardship present in his life, couldn’t he just have this one, easy thing? Couldn’t he cling onto this small paradise a moment more? All he wanted was for Elder Faerie to be his dearest friend… with nothing deeper lurking below.

Perhaps I’m the one who’s truly childish, he thought as he watched Elder Faerie descend from the branches, landing in front of him. Perhaps the Milk of Knowledge was right.

“Salt of Solidarity? Is something wrong?” Elder Faerie asked, dusting off his hands.

The question slipped out before he could even think about it.

“Elder Faerie Cookie, what was your witch like?”

The faerie king was so caught off guard, that he had to take a step back.

“Y-you do not need to reply if it displeases yo–”

“Let’s sit,” Elder Faerie said, sitting down against the tree and gesturing for Salt to do the same. After the knight joined him, it took Elder Faerie a moment to think of a response.

“My memory has faded, lifetimes have passed since I’ve seen her but she was… alright, I suppose. She taught me everything I needed to know about life, never sugar-coating anything, just the untarnished truth. In terms of her manner… well, sometimes, especially in my younger years, she would coddle me with what felt like softness. She’d talk about how small and adorable I was,” he chucked. “How utterly hapless and small I was in the palm of her hand. She’d call me an idiot and talk about how stupid I was whenever I made a mistake, but it was just teasing. Yet, truth be told, there were times when she was… cruel. I’ve gained wisdom of age to know that her malice was no fault of mine, and yet, I can’t find the strength in my heart to blame her for it either.”

“Why?”

Elder Faerie paused again to think.

“Back then, she was the only one I had, but in a weird way, I was the only one she had as well. We only had each other. She needed me just as much as I needed her,” he smiled. “That terrified me.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

Elder Faerie looked away.

“Would you… treat your faeries the same way she treated you?”

“Never!” He exclaimed, turning back to him, before letting out a sigh. “Yet…”

“Yet?”

Elder Faerie grew silent again, absentmindedly twiddling with some grass. He didn’t respond, so Salt began to look up at the Silver Tree, watching the way the sunlight shone through its large branches.

How curious, the branches look a bit like the Soul Jam.

“One time,” Elder Faerie began, which made the knight jump, “she spoke of how easy it would be to crush me beneath her fingers. I was terrified when I first came to Earthbread, but perhaps, a part of me was glad I could be in a place where I wasn’t the one being crushed, but instead, I… could crush… someone.”

“Do you feel that way about your faeries?”

Elder Faerie pulled his legs up against his chest, looking too small for a king, his eyes full of shame. He looked awfully similar to how he was when they first met. After a moment had passed, Elder Faerie nodded.

“...what about me?”

“You’ve been asking a lot of questions,” something shifted in the tone of his voice. “It reminds me of a human story.”

"A human story?”

“Yes. It’s the story of the green ribbon. Have you heard of it?”

The knight shook his head.

“Hmm… it went something like this. Once upon a time, there was a girl with a green ribbon around her neck. There was a boy who was curious about the ribbon, so he asked her why she wore it, but she always said that she couldn’t tell him. No matter how much he asked, she always refused to give him an answer. Eventually, the girl and the boy fell in love. Once they were married, he asked her once more, but again, she said she could not tell him.”

Elder Faerie took Salt’s hands in his, which made him hold in a breath as his chest tightened.

“Years down the line, the couple had grown old. When the girl had fallen ill, she finally decided to let him untie the ribbon. She said that once he did, he would see why she had to keep it a secret.”

Elder Faerie brought their hands up to his own neck. The knight could feel the steady pulse of Life Energy beating through the faerie’s body. So much so, that he could feel its tingle barely concealed his dough. Once again, his thoughts betrayed him.

Whoever made you like this couldn’t have had good intentions.

“So, slowly and carefully, the boy untied the ribbon…”

Elder Faerie’s hands tightened around his neck.