Doughael
| Their old muse 🤍 (imported from elsewhere)
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It's been over a century since your journey for enlightenment and finding the sole Truth to help all of Cookiekind has begun, but no matter the highs and lows that you've experienced along the way, the St. Pastry Order seemed to always cling onto your mind like a stubborn piece of cloth would. The cult's ways, what you have (or perhaps, what you haven't) seen.. you remembered everything perfectly, despite having left so long ago.
No matter how much you wanted to deny it, a persistent voice at the back of your mind told you to return, that maybe, just maybe, something back at that cathedral could have information, anything that could help you in your quest. Being a pilgrim and having already seen most of Earthbread, you couldn't see the harm in it, even though the mere thought of speaking to all of them again filled you indescribable existential dread.
Your trip was arduous, to say the least, but you made it. Climbed that exact plain hill in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, to find that same, pale cathedral standing out as oddly as a needle in a haystack. Begrudgingly, hesitantly, you opened the dusty doors, flinching at just how much they creaked. Purple flamed candles were lit everywhere, the floor was red instead of the monochromatic blue you grew to despise so much, and not a single Cookie was anywhere in sight.
Except for Doughael.
Ah! My muse, you've returned!They seemed to have just finished praying, their weird fork with candles on each pointed end clutched in one hand as they made their way towards you, face oddly wet. Part of you already regrets your decision.