Day 5: Color! First two days were traditional with digital coloring, the fourth was fully traditional and this one is digital- welcome to my account folks, I love varying my mediums!
Does it happen that one of these two goes somewhere for a long time? In this case, who starts to miss each other first? Or do they practically never break up?
Sage: Often times I have to travel for my work, or when followers of the Tower of Knowledge seem to be on my trail, I'll do what I can to lead them astray. The recluse will also wander to collect herbs and berries for the remedies he creates. While much of it can be found in his impressive garden, a number of ingredients are multiple days journey distance from the hut.
I have my studies to attend to that passes the time, but do I miss our nightly talks.
However, the joyous feelings I have on the day when we reunite always heals any missing aches~
Pure Vanilla stared at Shadow Milk, ignoring Wind Archer and Black Raisin's gape. "…what's fine?" he tried. He hadn't expected to see Shadow Milk so soon in a non-combat setting. Let alone the jester suddenly appearing in his garden.
"Fine. I'll take your stupid friendship offer."
Pure Vanilla stared. Slowly, he felt his soul jam burst, the soul jam of truth… excited? To be honest, he couldn't blame it. He could feel his own excited grin form.
"What? Not gonna say-"
"REALLY?!"
"Wow, you're actually believing me?"
"Pure Vanilla, you told me he's the Beast of Deceit, there's no way you actually-"
"Yeah, no, she's right-"
Pure Vanilla reached up and cupped his face, staring into his eyes as his words drifted off. "Really?" he whispered, staring at Shadow Milk.
"…yes."
Tears rose up as he leaned up and pressed a kiss to Shadow Milk's brow.
Thank you for waiting! 💛💙 ShadowVanilla Week will take place from February 1st to Februrary 14th 2026! Please share this post and check our pin for links and more information!
A/N: Hello Hello Hello! My first CRK fic. Honestly it probably would have been a while had it not been for me becoming aware of SDVN Week! So thank you to the organizers for getting me in gear with this wonderful event!
“What do you think, Recluse?”
What did he think? In all honesty he hadn’t been paying attention too closely. The weather had taken more out of him than he thought it would. Who on Earthbread would have been able to predict such a snow squall? It wasn’t as if he could have chosen to stay home either, it struck in the middle of his journey and it had been too late to turn around. A day sooner, an hour sooner, and Recluse wouldn’t have been able to make the journey at all.
Fate conspired against him. It always did when it wanted to garner favor from the Sage of Truth.
He had long given up on turning towards Sage’s window in hopes that the raging storm had quelled some of its fury and instead resided himself to a comfortable spot in the chair by Sage’s desk. Said desk was currently a mess of scratched out parchments and ink stains, clearly indicative of hastily changed lesson plans. Recluse wouldn’t have been all that surprised if he had been reworking lesson plans since he spotted the first specks of snow outside.
“What do I think?” Recluse repeated, “I think you are overthinking and putting in more effort than your students will notice.” There was no use beating around the bush, it was a bitter truth, but Sage would never ask him to dull the blade of his words. His honesty was appreciated, especially when others were too worried about speaking their minds to the all knowing and wise Sage of Truth.
And that fear had isolated Sage.
A relatable loneliness in Recluse’s opinion, but loneliness all the same.
Sage clicked his tongue and made another tiny note with the quill in his hand. “You're such a pessimist my Dear Recluse.” His cheek had a rather large ink smudge on it that he doubted he even noticed. For an individual who fancied white, Recluse was surprised he didn’t have more stains on his clothing with how furiously he scribbled away. Not just in his notes and ledgers, but in the hundreds of letters sent to his own quiet tower.
“But perhaps you're right, they won’t appreciate the work I put in.” Sage strutted across the room, heels clicking as he scanned over the parchment once more, his hair flowing and shimmering in what little light filtered through the room. Then he smiled, “But they will certainly appreciate a snow day or two, and I’m doubly certain they will appreciate an engaging and condensed lecture to make up for missed time in class.”
Such an optimist, this one.
“I just have to decide what I wish to move around. The substitutions of alchemy must remain unedited and intact for safety purposes, and taking out anything in regards to the Witches is out of the question… Forbidden magic perhaps? But what if that makes it too enticing? I wouldn't-”
“Sage, will the entirety of my visit be consumed by your spiraling rambles?” Recluse stood from the chair as Sage's head finally snapped up from the document. Perhaps his chilled bones and the fact that he had trudged against the storm against reason had made him less tolerant for it all. Or maybe he wished to discuss something more meaningful than those thoughtless and thankless sheep. “If so I don’t know why you invited me over.”
And he would head home… if he could. Alas, there was no choice with the raging storm.
“Oh my Dear Recluse, I apologize!” Sage abandoned his parchment. He always moved quicker than Recluse anticipated, flitting to and fro like a honey bee buzzing from flower to flower. He had a bountiful garden of tasks, all of which required his attention and none of which he could organize properly. Recluse tried, trailing behind him, redirecting his attention, helping him place importance. How he managed before him, Recluse had no idea.
“I just want to make sure they get the most out of my lesson plans and my teachings. The storm throws a wrench into the plans I made you know. There are so many topics to cover and such little time! Oh! How about tea? I can have a fresh pot brewing in no time,” his words were quick in their succession, yet each syllable was given the same prompt punctuation as the last. Sage was a gifted speaker and Recluse couldn’t help but believe that if he really wanted to he could group two of his lesson plans together without the fear of expanding his scheduled time for his students. “Do you have a preference of flavor?”
Recluse shook his head, “Not particularly. I am fond of most of the blends you acquire.”
“Lucky for us Herald sent me some new blends and they arrived before the storm hit. What do you say we sample them together?”
And so Recluse continued to listen as Sage yammered on and on. He talked about the blends themselves, the plants which they came from, their medicinal properties, folk lore he’d read about them, favored blends among his friends, visiting his friends... This was the thing about Sage: everything was connected. He himself was one long string of unending thought, a run on sentence personified. At one point, Recluse may have found his voice grating and agitating when compared to the silence of his home.
Now?
He found a strange comfort in it. Something that soothed a dullness in his very soul.
“I apologize that you will be stuck here for the foreseeable future,” Sage sighed, taking a seat next to him once more on the chaise. “I know you like to return to your solitude to recoup after visits.”
“Think nothing of it.” It was times like this when a small part of Recluse wished he could force more emotion into his voice. His words sounded so flat even to his own ears. But he couldn’t so he decided to add more to his words. “You do not drain my energy nearly as quickly as most.”
He meant that. He really did. From the deepest parts of himself.
Sage was a special person to him, and their time together was something he cherished. Why else would he make such a trek so far from his home? Why else wouldn’t he turn around in such a treacherous storm? He could lie to himself, say that it was too late to turn around and head home, but he knew the truth. Seeing Sage was something he enjoyed, even with all of his constant yammering. He liked when he chose to walk, letting his heels click against the smooth stone tiles. He liked the way his sentences would trail off into a hum or a click of thought before continuing on. He loved their debates, illuminated by candlelight and carried off by soft summer breezes.
“You were contemplating your lessons before,” Recluse said, taking a sip of his tea. It warmed his bones and the spices lingered on his tongue. “You could use teas or other herbed consumables to shorten some of your lessons on potions. Use it to show them how different ingredients can come together. You could also use it as a metaphor for the Witches and creation.”
There was silence, and then a light warmth against his cheek, which transformed into a weight on his shoulder.
The heat that rose in his cheeks had nothing to do with the spices in the tea.
“Some may disagree with me, but I think you are very kind Recluse.”
“I think the some may be many.”
Sage snorted and his laughter shook Recluse’s shoulder. He had to sip at his tea once more to hide his own smile. A kiss on the cheek and laughter? Oh how the Witches were spoiling him. Sage had a unique laugh and when his jokes landed it made him feel proud. After all, many found his dry humor more concerning than funny, but Sage understood.
Sage pulled himself closer, wrapping his arms around Sage’s and making himself more comfortable on his shoulder. The silence stretched on and settled over them comfortably so. Every now and again the wind would rattle the windows as the storm continued to rage on. There was no telling how long it would continue on nor when his path would be walkable, but neither mattered.
“Dear Recluse?”
Sage’s voice was softer. Soft in a tactful way lest he shatter the fragile atmosphere that settled over them. Soft in a way that was so different from his normal boisterous tone. His fingers were carefully tracing along him, gentle meaningless meaningful shapes. He was also holding on tight in his softness.
Almost as if he feared scaring Recluse away.
“I am… fortunate that we can spend this time together…. It means the world to me.”
The shapes stopped and Sage’s fingers twitched as the anxiety settled over him, his grip tightening around Recluse’s arm.
Recluse mulled over his next words allowing the silence to settle from its disturbance once more. He wanted it to settle before he caused his own ripples in its smooth surface. He set his tea down, letting it clink against his saucer and settled Sage’s anxieties with the weight of his own head on top of his. That would have been enough, Recluse knew it was more than enough, and yet tonight he would go the extra mile. Tonight he would make Sage’s heart flutter with the delicate wings of joy. It wasn’t conceit that inspired these thoughts. He noticed the way Sage looked at him, the secrets he thought he kept so hidden from the world.
This was no secret.
This was simply unspoken.
But that didn’t make it any less real, any less true.
“My Dearest Sage. Our time together is not something I would trade for all of Earthbread.”
For once, Sage had nothing to say. His arms tightened around Recluse. It was an act of desperation, an act of unfathomable happiness. Perhaps they were both dreaming, and in the morning the raging storm will have been nothing but an act of some higher power playing with the yearnings of their hearts’ deepest desires.
But for now they were together.
Just them and an unspoken but known truth stretched between them.
And for now, just for now, that was more than enough.
Oh how lucky Sage was that Fortune favored him.
And how even luckier that Recluse favored him too.
