Tale 65- The Murderous Cookies

 After departing the caravan the next morning, the Traveler made her way to the middle of the town, where she found herself by a canal. A group of men were dredging it, pulling tangled nets and old fish hooks away from the floor, before something else was dislodged. It flew through the air and crashed into shards right by the Traveler, who bent down. The glass was sharp, but there was something amid it, so she pulled her sleeve over her hand to brush it away and try to avoid being poked, despite how thin the cloak was. Her hand touched a cork- the object had been a bottle- and then a piece of paper, a rolled-up scroll that was just like the ones she would read about as a child. There had been a tale she knew as a child, one claiming that if a person were to write a wish on paper and throw it to the mercy of the waves, it would someday come true. Unwrapping the scroll, she stared down at the words, tears coming to her eyes as she read. ‘To whoever finds this, I have only one wish. Please let my sister forgive me for all that I did wrong and return home. I miss her dearly, and need her back. Sincerely-’ and the Traveler could read no more. She felt tears trickling down her face, her heart starting to ache, and she tucked the wish inside her book. Seagulls began squawking around her, the girl settling on a small barrel and wiping away her tears, a new resolve beginning in her heart. She knew who had made that wish, and vowed to return. Clenching her fists, she found a new drive to look for a tale, awaiting the familiar sensation or a chance encounter. Suddenly, she collided with someone, a large man who comically caught several bread rolls with his tray, almost as if he was straight out of a picture book. She apologized, but he just gave a jolly smile and set down the tray, explaining he was a baker by trade, before someone approached them both. The baker gave the other man a hug, explaining they were best friends, and both men offered to tell her an embarrassing story about the time the baker let his best friend cook. The Traveler eagerly agreed, writing the tale of ‘the Murderous Cookies.’

‘One fine afternoon, a baker and his best friend were spending time together in the bakery. The two would often get up to mischief, splashing each other with batter and spraying flour at each other, but this particular day the baker’s friend wanted to help him bake. Despite being a shoemaker by trade, the baker decided to test his skills, giving him full access to his recipes. The shoemaker set out to gather the ingredients he desired, and by the evening had a full tray of cookies, which smelled delicious. The two men were about to eat one, when a noble entered the bakery quite rudely, demanding he be fed and insulting the baker. The noble then snatched the cookies away, devouring them all and leaving none for either of the men, and to add insult to injury, walking out without paying them. The noble walked to a nearby inn and stayed the night, but by the morning he was found dead in his room. Having no explanation, the two men thought for a while, before the baker gently asked what the shoemaker had put in the cookies. The shoemaker showed his friend the berries he’d included, sure to give a pop of flavour, before the baker realized exactly what had happened. His friend had put belladonna in the cookies! Though they weren’t necessarily dangerous when eaten in small quantities as the effects varied, the noble had probably eaten about twenty, and died due to his foolishness.’

The shoemaker was incredibly embarrassed, the baker explaining they never told anyone and that there was no need due to the noble not even being mourned, so he asked the Traveler to promise to keep his secret. The girl gave a smile, explaining she kept secrets well and didn’t betray others. The baker was grateful, before explaining he still gave discounts to the shoemaker for his friendship, and then passed the girl a cream bun from his tray. The smell reminded the Traveler of home, the girl being truly grateful and deciding to find a place to stay for the night, savouring the warmth of the cream bun in her hands and nibbling at it, wishing food could last forever. She’d eat cream buns over and over if she could, so perhaps she and Sarafelle could do that when she was free. She giggled at herself slightly, finding a corner and drifting off into a dream.