Sunny walked calmly through the endless labyrinth of enormous pines, moving seamlessly from one shadow to another with nimble grace in his light footsteps.
He wore a mask once more, this time "Definitely Not Me", mimicking the appearance of Weaver's Mask. Creepy currently occupied the Memory, strengthening its charm twofold and effectively restraining a third of his power. His hair, which had been turned a snowy white, now glistened softly. It was almost as smooth looking as Gilderien's, and stood in stark contrast against Sunny's all-black attire.
The night sky's moon peeked through the trees, tentatively attempting to cast its light upon the mask and its wielder, only to be greedily consumed by the shadows that enfolded him. Sunny's eyes, twin voids of endless darkness, watched with chilling indifference as they passed by the sea of trees, seemingly endless in number. Gilderien walked to his left, content with silence, a small smile on his hooded face. He wore the golden robe Sunny had seen once before, in his humble cottage.
Unlike Sunny, Gilderien's figure seemed to actually capture the faint rays of moonlight as they peeked through the trees, drawing them to him. He also seemed much more comfortable amongst the trees than Sunny was, as though they were old friends. Several times, he even whispered words to the sleeping forest, running a hand along their trunks as though greeting them, words that Sunny had never heard before- but that reeked of power. He'd have to ask about them later.
The two men's very presences were at odds with each other. The moonlight that failed to illuminate Sunny lavished its attention upon Gilderien in turn, causing the golden fabric to almost glow in the night. Walking side by side, the shadows and reflective moonlight gold seemed to be fighting each other, Gilderien's robe trying to illuminate Sunny's shadow clothing, and Sunny's shadows strangling the bright rays into nothingness.
Sunny's chosen attire was another impersonation of one of his fond memories- the Puppeteer's Shroud, which he had given to his younger sister as a gift. The lusterless leather of the greaves and vambraces of the light armor were completely black, so it was difficult to discern them from the rest of the fabric, but Sunny didn't mind. He had summoned it for the comfort of familiarity, not appearance. Besides, it would only take a moment to release his hold on the awed shadows that draped his porcelain form and don the Mantle of The Underworld. Though he doubted any would be capable of piercing the passive effects of the soul-bound memory.
He also had the body of a Saint. By simply breathing, most blades would fail to score his flesh. Not that he would ever give them enough leeway to try, of course.
After Sunny's extremely badass reveal, Gilderien suggested they travel to a certain place. He was currently leading him to one of the cities he had mentioned when questioning Sunny, a place called Ellesmera. Apparently, it was the most powerful of the elven cities in Du Weldenvarden, the great forest he was in, and was the seat of their strength. Even their queen dwelled there.
So, Sunny had asked for a moment of preparation, shadow stepping back to the Marvelous Mimic and calling it back into this soul, before appearing back in front of Gilderien less than two seconds later.
They had been traveling for about a week, just the two of them, stopping only twice for rest, else wise spending the days walking. They didn't even halt their pace for meals, since they were consisted of finger food that could be eaten during travels. The small basket that held these meals was wielded by Gilderien, and held a suspicious amount of food. To Sunny's pleasant surprise, none of its contents consisted of meat of any kind.
Products of animals, like cheeses, milk required cakes, and boiled eggs were present, but there was no meat, even fish or fowl. He was grateful of that, still traumatized by the memory of lizard flesh. It still hid somewhere on the back of his tongue, an incessant reminder of its revolting flavor.
Sunny normally would have been aggressed by the slow pace, but traveling with Gilderien was just… something that couldn't be complained about. He was pleasant in both conversation and actions, knew and was comfortable with silence.
Sunny found himself growing more envious of the man by the day, though for the life of him he couldn't understand why...
Sunny only had one real bone to pick with the man- he, apparently, was a fan of honey.
Betrayer.
It had come up during one of their meals, when the old man had retrieved a small wooden bottle from the basket, uncorking the top and offering it to Sunny, who would presumably dribble it over his apple. Sunny caught the smell instantly and physically veered away from the man, revolted.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Gilderien chuckled at Sunny's disgusted expression, recorking the bottle and placing it back in the depths of the basket carefully.
"If you think it to be honey, then yes. I take it you are familiar?"
Sunny grimaced and took a bite out of the crisp apple, stepping over a large root. He spared a thought of amazement for the juicy flesh. "Definitely Not Me" hung around his neck like an oversized necklace.
"Unfortunately. It was a popular condiment among my customers. They drizzled that horrid substance over everything. I'm also familiar with how it's made. How can anyone eat literal insect barf with such enjoyment on their faces?"
Gilderien stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing, suddenly sounding much younger as he wheezed.
"Yes, yes I suppose that is an accurate description…"
Sunny couldn't hold back a scowl.
"And you still eat it?"
Gilderien breathed in, still chuckling, wiping a few tears from his eyes with his golden robe.
"Once you have the time to ponder the world as much as I have, you'll also start to realize that everything we eat is at least a little bit disgusting. So, why not pick something sweet?"
Sunny stared at him for a moment before averting his gaze, grumbling something under his breath about how that didn't make things any better, before Gilderien continued, chuckling slightly.
"And did I hear you say customers? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, what with all your other absurdities... do you by chance own a bakery?"
His eyes lingered on Sunny's hair with those last words. Sunny nodded.
"Kind of. It's something like that. It was a Café and Memory store, though the Café aspect was more popular."
Something close to pride entered his voice as he announced in a grandiose voice, holding his hands in front of his face and moving his fingers to look as though he was watching something through a screen:
"Sunny's Brilliant Emporium, Café and Memory Boutique! Let me tell you, back where I come from, it was a huge hit. I had tons of regulars. They even started calling it the Eye Candy Café..."
He frowned slightly, lowering his hands a bit.
"That wasn't because of my cooking, though..."
Gilderien looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"I've never heard that word before. Cafay- cafee? No, you pronounced it as Café, didn't you? May I ask what a... Café is, exactly? I assume some sort of establishment that serves food and drink?"
Sunny looked at him with surprise as the old man sounded out the word.
"You really don't have Café's here? What a loss. I'll have to tell you about them then... mine was the best of all, so its only natural..."
He stopped walking midstep. Gilderien continued on for a moment, repeatedly sounding out Sunny's new word under his breath, before looking back, raising an elegant silver eyebrow.
"Are you alright, Sunny?"
Sunny was glaring into the darkness ahead of him with a devilish grin, staring at the newborn vision only he had the eyes to see.
'Tell you about them, huh... I'll do you one better. Oh, yes I will... after all, I seem to have a distinct lack of funds in this world.'
He looked to Gilderien with an all-too innocent smile, the disturbing look fleeing his pale face.
"Tell me, Gilderien, what do the elves do for entertainment and, leisure? If they are so accomplished, they must have time on their hands... and money to spend."
He hissed the last words under his breath, raising the shadow arm he had summoned to hold the apple, biting down with fervor and sounding a sharp crunch.
'Damn good apple. So my reign of terror begins...'