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This is, honestly, the last guy Espresso Cookie expected to recognize here in Platter City, revving up to fight and win a wish. He’s only ever known Madeleine Cookie from afar, back home… he’s known him as a swaggering, shimmering servant of the Divines, too bright to look at directly. A noble paladin, always off to sign autographs or duel some poison-syrup-oozing monster or another. Handsome, yes, but frustrating, too. Just think of all the good he could do with his position, if he knew the parts of their homeland still struggling to get by. If he’d ever deigned to walk deep in the salty choco-mud, to look out for the citizens that didn’t glitter and gather to praise him.
Espresso Cookie can’t imagine what Madeleine Cookie is here to wish for. Doesn’t he already have everything he could want? All the adoration, the ridiculously expensive armor, the righteous, highly-publicized quests? Even an undeniable blessing from his gods. What more could he be looking for? But he must be looking for something, or else he wouldn’t be here, competing in Oven Game after Oven Game, gathering crowns.
“Ahahaha! Another grand show from your favorite holy knight. I, Madeleine Cookie, will be back next time!” He’s been recorded saying that, you know, projected on huge screens all around Platter City as one of DJ Miya’s advertisements. Make sure to tune in for the next electrifying battle performance! It gets Espresso Cookie grinding his teeth, snorting derisively down into his cup of coffee. But still… even so…
He can’t say he’s not curious. Espresso Cookie is always curious. What brought this gorgeous air-headed paladin so far from home, anyway?
They get a chance to talk in the middle of an Oven Crown battle, after a while. Espresso Cookie just so happens to see Madeleine Cookie being ganged up on… surrounded by a crowd that looks related to Platter City’s posh cheese mafia, some kind of enforcers working for Camembert Cookie, most likely… and before he knows it he’s slinking out of the tall grass to help. What is he thinking, really?! Ideologically, they’re enemies, on opposite sides of everything. Science versus faith, the poor versus the rich, the studious versus the effortless. Nevermind the fact that if Madeleine Cookie gets more Oven Crowns, he’ll win the wish and Espresso Cookie will go home empty-handed again.
And yet.
And still.
Espresso Cookie casts a quick, ground-beans, searing-heat Coffee Magic spell, and it opens up in a swirling pit beneath the attackers’ feet. It sears them, melts some of the twirly cheese decorations on their shoes. It gives Madeleine Cookie a chance to notice him, to listen. Inexplicably, when Espresso Cookie hisses, “Over here, you dolt!” Madeleine Cookie hurries to him obediently, twirling his sword back into its sheath. They rest for just a moment. Gather back some of their energy.
Their conversation leaves Espresso Cookie with so many questions. Frustrating, cream-sweet questions tickling in the back of his brain.
“I know you,” Madeleine Cookie says, readjusting some of his armor as they crouch in the tall grass. “You’re a researcher. Dark Magic…?”
“Coffee Magic.” Espresso Cookie can’t keep the impatience from his voice. “And you’re the hero, beloved of the Divines.”
“Haha! Yes! Got it in one!”
“Mm… such confidence.”
“Of course!”
“Ugh…”
Madeleine Cookie doesn’t seem dissuaded. He leans in closer, like he’s about to share a secret, and holds Espresso Cookie’s eyes. His eyes are such bright, unflinching syrup. “I believe I read in a newspaper that you’re here to wish for the means and time to expand little-known, less sugary research… a Choco-Mud Town University. Is that still true?”
Well. Espresso Cookie blinks behind his huge round glasses, taken aback. If you’d asked him before, he might have expected Madeleine Cookie to call Choco-Mud Town by one of its disparaging nicknames, like so many Cookies from the upper-city back home. He might have expected this jock not to read newspapers at all. “It is,” says Espresso Cookie, voice softer but still clipped. “And you…?”
“And me!” Madeleine Cookie claps Espresso Cookie on the back, beaming. Failing to keep his voice down, despite the fact that they are still very obviously hiding from the cheese mafia. And those Meat Boulevard vigilantes… really, hiding from everyone. Every Cookie here has such fervent wishes, such burning hopes. They’ve all got something to prove. But how could a guy like Madeleine Cookie be struggling like that?
“Are you just here to win for the glory of the Divines?” Espresso Cookie knows he sounds sharp, asking this so bluntly. He also knows he’s possibly inviting this faithful paladin to launch into a sermon of sorts, if he feels like it. What paladin worth his flour can’t wax poetic about the Divines, even in a place like this?
“Everything is for the glory of the Divines,” says Madeleine Cookie, seriously. But then he smiles, smug, conspiratorial. “But if any wish can be granted here, maybe I really could have the strength to protect everyone…? Even from crumbling. Even from sickness…”
Who’s sick, then? Madeleine Cookie himself? One of his fluttering aunties? Espresso Cookie opens his mouth to ask, but Madeleine Cookie is already smoothing his hair, getting ready for the cameras. He winks, and Espresso Cookie flinches. How tacky.
“If I can improve as a paladin, it’s my duty as a servant of the Light to try! See you later, Espresso Cookie! Juice is on me, after the battle, if you swing by the beach!” And then he’s off. Blue cape fluttering. Armor blazing in the sun. Goodbye, then.
Wait… wait. This whole time, the honorable Madeleine Cookie’s known Espresso Cookie’s name?! He wants to buy him juice?! He wants to meet at the beach…?
Two strangers in a strange land, here. Traveled all the way to Platter City. Maybe Madeleine Cookie’s honestly looking for a friend…?
Espresso Cookie scoffs, running back through what Madeleine Cookie said like studying formulas in a textbook. He shakes his head, gathering a churning crackling bitter handful of Coffee Magic in his palm.
Back into the battle, then, with both his own and Madeleine Cookie’s wishes brewing in his mind.