purify - firewind // cookie run

to grimy shores waging war

For nearly the entirety of the afternoon, Wind Archer traveled across the vast continent. The sun had been beating down on him, and the only thing preventing him from overheating had been the cooling air of the wind currents-the ones that were allowing him to fly in the first place. The journey had been long and draining. After all, Wind Archer couldn't recall the last time he'd been to the shore. It must have been sometime before the war. He wouldn't be able to remember the length of his previous journeys to Dragon's Valley even if he tried.

He found himself admiring the trees and flower fields, in awe of nature, even at such a height. As the currents propelled him across Giant Icing Ridge, he nearly stopped to admire the cherry blossom trees that sprouted from the piedmont of a large mountain. His heart ached for their beauty.

Upon arriving at the shores of Crispia Sea, he was torn from his admiration and felt his pulse quicken as he drew closer to the dark energy. Pursing his lips, he scanned the trees by the beach below.

Quickly descending towards the surface, he eyed the waves washing ashore. There was no visible threat, but something felt considerably off. He finally landed on the sand and scoured the area, using his right arm to shield himself from the glaring sun.

In his peripheral vision, he spotted a small, red object nestled in the sand. The waves splashed up against it, rendering it near-invisible. He squinted and approached the object. As it drew closer into view, he felt his stomach drop.

The object-or orb, rather-was an opaque, crimson red. The sunlight gave it a blinding, angelic glow. It had a crystalline exterior, with an orange coat of color spiking up from the bottom... in the shape of a flame.

The Red Dragon's Bead.

Wind Archer exhaled sharply. He had come all this way worrying that the Millennial Tree could be in danger, only to find that the cursed fallen spirit had gotten into trouble.

He grimaced and kneeled in the sand before moving the bead out of the water. Bracing himself, he picked it up, feeling it with his palms. He had expected it to burn his hands, but it was surprisingly lukewarm. He remembered that it had been sitting in the waves, so he tested the temperature of the water with his left hand. It was significantly warmer than the bead. With all of the fallen spirit's preaching of "my flames are eternal" this and "you can't extinguish my flames" that, he found himself a bit concerned with the low temperature of his vessel.

He shifted his right hand a bit and felt a sharp opening in it. It was cracked.

His eyebrows knitted together tightly. Rotating it further, his eyes landed on a very large and ugly crack, then a violet essence emerging from its center. It reeked of terrible dark energy.

He could feel the wind currents that he had tuned into earlier encircling him and the orb, almost as a form of confirmation.

So this was what they found.

-

Wind Archer sat on the beach, squinting at the bead in the sand. It was blinding in the sun.

He was stumped. He needed to get back to the forest and protect the tree, but dark energy was unpredictable. He had no idea what could happen to the fallen spirit if he were to abandon the bead.

Even so, said energy was extremely unpleasant and violating to his senses. He didn't want to spend any more time around it than he already had.

Despite their both being guardians, he had never truly been on good terms with the fallen spirit. It had been years since they'd spoken to one another. He had always been boisterous and rude, anyhow. Perhaps, if he left, some other cookie would notice the bead and take care of it instead.

That also, of course, meant that he would be allowing someone to die...potentially.

Moreover, Wind Archer didn't know much about the fallen spirit personally, but he at least knew that he played a vital role in the balance of the Dragon's Valley. Wind Archer imagined he kept a watchful eye over the violent place.

His eyes drifted from the bead and towards the shore. The sun was beginning to set.

The fallen spirit was a thief. A cookie who gained his powers through a deceitful deal with a dragon. A cookie who was impulsive and moronic. Wind Archer would gain nothing from helping him.

And yet, his instincts told him otherwise. After all, it would be the right thing to do. His duty was to help those in need and to subdue darkness. Fire Spirit wasn't any less of a cookie than Wind Archer. His master would think the same.

Catching a glimpse of the auburn sun across the water, Wind Archer felt his heart drop. The sun had nearly fully set. He needed to be back at Maze Grove by the morning. He thanked the wind currents for help and began ascending from the sandy surface, the orb nestled safely in his arms.

He flew back in the direction he came towards Giant Icing Ridge. He could ask his master for advice back at home.

-

The sun had fallen below the horizon, and the little stars were now twinkling in the sky. Wind Archer used them as a distraction as he flew through the subzero temperatures of the mountains.

He glanced down at the cold bead in his arms. His instincts told him to hold the bead closer to his chest to avoid dropping it, so he reluctantly did. He tried his best to ignore the suffocating dark energy. The cracks of the rock-like material grated at his arms, freezing to the touch.

Finally reaching the top of the mountain, Wind Archer shivered and chattered his teeth. While not painful, it was certainly uncomfortable. So, with a little magic, he shifted the nearby currents in his direction so he could move along a little faster. They whistled high in his ears, and he winced at the sound.

A crack came from below him. He halted and looked down at the bead.

"Oh no," Wind uttered breathlessly.

The bead was coated in a sheet of ice. The cracks were not visibly spreading, indicating they were fracturing the orb from the inside.

Breathlessly, Wind Archer circled back in the direction of the beach, flying as fast as he could.