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The Ivory Dragon was gone for good, at long last. At first, the news were shocking, but after a few days, peace has finally settled in for the cookies near the Tropical Soda Islands.
Perhaps, all cookies were a little relieved. Maybe.
Timekeeper Cookie, who barely had relations to the situation on the surface, seemed to be one of those cookies as well.
She learned of the news rather quickly, having a large influence due to being able to control time. At first glance, she didn’t care about the news. When she visited Lychee Dragon, she simply said something along the lines of this: “Good riddance. Their plans would’ve never been able to come to fruition.”
Although, behind closed doors, she was different. For some reason, she spent more time simply relaxing in nature. Like she finally felt at ease.
Though, that image only lasted to outsiders, not to her. Not anymore.
Her body, one functioning off of oil, batteries and repairs, suddenly felt colder. Heavier. Like she was carrying something else, but technically she didn’t. She only carried grief, and her lost consciousness from a time rift. She was once neat, but now? Gears in need of more frequent checkups, not because she couldn’t do it herself, but because she didn’t want to. Her hair sticking in all directions, knot after knot.
She lost them. They were gone, maybe for the good of cookiekind, but not for the good of her. She mourned them like no other. Like a piece of her has been lost. Because deep down, she understood them.
She understood them through the stoicism. Understood the pain their plans rooted from. Understood that they had a reason underneath all that arrogance.
And oh her gears. Everytime they creaked, it was like a cruel joke, designed to mock her mechanical heart. That she was still alive. That she was standing, and they weren’t.
The one thing they left behind was.. their child. A new dragonling. They were like a spitting image of the ivory. That same gaze that could pierce someone’s soul. The little amber gem on their chest, in the same placement. That golden little horn, one which was barely developing. She cherished them.
They were like the apple of her eye, even if they never interacted, and likely never will. She closed herself off, but she always kept a watch on them. Not because she promised to, but because they were the last thing remaining of Longan. And she wasn’t about to lose them as well. She always kept an eye on them, no matter what. No matter the cost.
…
A few days have passed, and Croissant was getting worried. The director hasn’t left her office for days on end. Or hasn’t heard from her at least. It wasn’t unusual for her to leave for a long time, but.. something felt wrong, considering the recent news.
Once she finally had free time, enough to check on her alter self, she thought she would already be occupied with the other. Guess not. She only carried what was necessary in her bag.
Her footsteps slowly echoed against the floor as she neared The Director’s office, slowly stopping. Technically, her own office, but also not. She knocked.
Once.
Twice.
But nobody came.
Not a single sound that could indicate a presence.
Perhaps the time traveler was planning to surprise her. She knocked a few more times before waiting again.
Nothing.
It was a little weird, but she shrugged it off for the time being, deciding to slowly push the door open after a moment’s hesitation.
The room.. was eerily quiet. Too quiet. Yet, the mechanic still convinced herself that her alter ego was just hiding in the shadows. She stepped deeper into the room as the door closed.
It was the usual. Messy, unorganised, just what she expected. But it still felt different. Then she realised what was wrong. The ‘name card’ was in the middle of the desk for once. And the chalkboard was empty. Not adorned with some random theory. Perhaps it was a reflection.
There were no signs of her. Nothing. The papers were still all over the place, as if nothing has changed. Croissant didn’t want to do this, but.. She stepped behind the desk in the room, taking in a shaky breath as she pulled open one of the drawers. What she found was not something she expected.
A single, pale, ivory scale. She was.. puzzled. Even after trying to think like her alter ego, she couldn’t figure out why it was there. It was understandable that she couldn’t find answers to all of Timekeeper’s secrets.
They may have been the same person in different times, but they didn’t see the same things. Didn’t feel the same things, nor did they hear the same things. And they definitely didn’t do the same things.
In a last ditch effort, she visited Schneeball Cookie. After a few minutes, there was an answer. “It seems like this is from the ivory dragon themselves… But we will never know why it was there.”
Croissant Cookie nodded. They would never know. She just simply sighed, hoping that Timekeeper was doing well.
Little did she know that Timekeeper was more than well, waiting for the sweet relief of death to finally be reunited with her lover.