The woodlands of the surface were not dissimilar to their own Forest of Generation, pillars of wood marking the land and parting the sky in a way that was reminiscent of the energy fissures of home.

Where their Forest produced more and more of their kind by the day, this one produced ephemeral bodies of living matter, and though they could not be more different beings, the lands shared a recognisably similar function.

As far as Trilorn was concerned, that was where the similarities stopped. The mortal realm, with its rudimentary emphasis on the tangible, its restrictive need for physical constraints, could never compare to their ever-shifting hollow in the space below reality.

Still, they supposed they could appreciate the rich green leaves and the sharp tang of wet earth on their senses. The simplicity of it all was oddly refreshing, not that they’d ever admit it.

“Remind me why we have to wear these flesh sacks?” Callax asked, pulling petulantly at his skin in a fruitless attempt to alleviate the claustrophobia.

Trilorn resisted the urge to do the same, focusing on the rhythm of their steps against the ground instead of the prickling constriction of their mortal vessel. “They are called bodies, and they are meant to disguise us.”

“Can’t we just make ourselves invisible instead?” he whined, the pitch scattering several birds from a nearby tree in fright. “At least that would be comfortable.”

“Don’t be a dimwit, Callax,” they chastised, sighing in exasperation. “The whole point of this ritual is that we are meant to walk among them as one of their own. Comfort has nothing to do with it.”

Their companion just rolled his eyes, a mortal sign of disobedience he had grown rather fond of since witnessing it on the last excursion. “Yeah, clearly, but I still don’t see how this helps us understand them any better. Surely the Activated could just tell us where we fit into the mortals’ lives rather than this ridiculous guessing game.”

“And this is why you are no closer to understanding your purpose,” Trilorn scoffed, slipping ahead of him to manoeuvre between a narrow gap in the foliage. “How can you hope to understand, if you do not first believe. It takes faith in the process in order to progress.”

There was a loud rustle behind them, and they winced in sympathy at the sound of wood colliding with flesh, followed by a startled yelp. They paused and turned to find Callax rubbing his forehead and extricating himself from a series of thorned vines. Trilorn supressed a laugh as their companion narrowed his eyes at a particularly stubborn strand embedded in his cloak, as though it had caused personal offence, before finally tugging the material free.

“I suppose you have it all figured out then,” Callax huffed, jogging to catch up before overtaking and proceeding to walk backwards to better converse with them, instinctively ducking several low-hanging branches before they cuffed him on the back of the head.

“As it happens – yes, I do. After many of these ritual explorations I have found myself with a great affinity for shadows,” they announced smugly, sending their energy towards the darkness beneath a nearby tree and intertwining them, imbuing it with mass and form until it coalesced into a person’s silhouette. Trilorn directed it at the boughs in their path and hummed in satisfaction as it pulled them out of their way, allowing them to walk past unimpeded. Then it bowed dramatically and redispersed into the surroundings.

“Well where’s the fear in that?” Callax asked amusedly, raising a brow in challenge, testing to see what response they could come up with. It was a game they played together, asking the questions that none but the Activated knew the answer to, and attempting to come up with possible explanations.

“That’s what the meditative stage is for,” Trilorn replied, folding their arms and tilting their chin imperiously, daring him to call out the obvious side-step. Admitting they didn’t know was entirely beside the point of their little back and forth.

Callax barely seemed to notice, steps faltering slightly as he looked away. “If you’re so certain you know what you’re on about, then why not slink off to the higher ups and ask to progress to the next phase?” he taunted lightly, his voice wavering with a thread of genuine question. “Why waste your time with me?”

Trilorn scanned their companion’s overly casual posture, making no attempt to hide their scrutiny, nor their concern.

When he still wouldn’t meet their gaze, they clasped their arms behind their back and lengthened their strides until they were walking at his side, eyes focused courteously on the path ahead. “What a ridiculous suggestion,” they announced sniffily, watching in their peripheries as Callax pivoted to walk in the right direction, staring at them cautiously. “I cannot move on yet… you need me too much.”

It was the closest to an admission that they’d ever come, and they both knew it – a promise that either they would both progress, or neither of them would.

Callax smiled softly, his posture loosening to its usual careless disarray, before affecting a gleeful outrage.

“I most definitely do not!” he exclaimed, folding his arms and pouting pointedly in Trilorn’s direction.

They levelled him with the flattest look they could manage in the face of such impossibly wide eyes. Perhaps they could see some appeal in the mortal form. “You are hopeless when unaccompanied. Even more so than usual, that is.”

Callax gasped, clutching his chest with one hand, pointing a finger at them in recrimination. “I resent that!”

It was getting very hard not to laugh. As always, he was intent on finding any way to break them down, and using all his prior experience to do so. It was likely he wouldn’t relent until he had won at least a smile, so Trilorn intended to make him work for it. “Resent it all you wish, but do so silently, or must I mention your last escapade with the mortals’ element of fire?”

Callax groaned, covering his face with his hands long enough that Trilorn had to pull him out the path of a tree, earning a delighted grin in return – one that made it clear they had done exactly as he’d hoped they would.

“One day I’m going to get you to drop that,” he huffed, leaning subtly into Trilorn’s hand where it was lingering on his arm.

They tightened their hold fractionally before releasing it, not moving out of his space as they both rounded a series of ferns and continued onto the dirt track beyond.

“Highly unlikely,” they declared, unable to prevent the fondness bleeding into their tone.

Callax hummed in consideration, tilting his head slightly and staring sideways at them. “Then I’ll have to work on my methods of persuasion.”  

Trilorn allowed them one pleased smile, nodding firmly. “Quite – I should expect no less from you. Now we are almost there, so-”

“Yeah, yeah – don’t talk to them unless you have to, keep it short if you do, and try to blend in,” he recited, eyes glinting as his countenance shifted into something far more formal and grandiose. “Remember – we are here to observe and to study, is that understood?”

“I do not sound like that in the slightest.”

“You’d like to think so wouldn’t you?” Callax teased, bumping their shoulders together lightly. “Note how I have your rules memorised.”

“Yes, yes, very impressive,” Trilorn said, stopping behind a large oak and turning to adjust the latch of Callax’s cloak. “Are you ready?”

“Always,” he replied, grinning at the extra attention. “Let’s do this.” And with a shared nod, they were off through the outer ring of trees to the world of mortals beyond.

The woodlands of the surface were not dissimilar to their own Forest of Generation, pillars of wood marking the land and parting the sky in a way that was reminiscent of the energy fissures of home.

Where their Forest produced more and more of their kind by the day, this one produced ephemeral bodies of living matter, and though they could not be more different beings, the lands shared a recognisably similar function.

As far as Trilorn was concerned, that was where the similarities stopped. The mortal realm, with its rudimentary emphasis on the tangible, its restrictive need for physical constraints, could never compare to their ever-shifting hollow in the space below reality.

Still, they supposed they could appreciate the rich green leaves and the sharp tang of wet earth on their senses. The simplicity of it all was oddly refreshing, not that they’d ever admit it.

“Remind me why we have to wear these flesh sacks?” Callax asked, pulling petulantly at his skin in a fruitless attempt to alleviate the claustrophobia.

Trilorn resisted the urge to do the same, focusing on the rhythm of their steps against the ground instead of the prickling constriction of their mortal vessel. “They are called bodies, and they are meant to disguise us.”

“Can’t we just make ourselves invisible instead?” he whined, the pitch scattering several birds from a nearby tree in fright. “At least that would be comfortable.”

“Don’t be a dimwit, Callax,” they chastised, sighing in exasperation. “The whole point of this ritual is that we are meant to walk among them as one of their own. Comfort has nothing to do with it.”

Their companion just rolled his eyes, a mortal sign of disobedience he had grown rather fond of since witnessing it on the last excursion. “Yeah, clearly, but I still don’t see how this helps us understand them any better. Surely the Activated could just tell us where we fit into the mortals’ lives rather than this ridiculous guessing game.”

“And this is why you are no closer to understanding your purpose,” Trilorn scoffed, slipping ahead of him to manoeuvre between a narrow gap in the foliage. “How can you hope to understand, if you do not first believe. It takes faith in the process in order to progress.”

There was a loud rustle behind them, and they winced in sympathy at the sound of wood colliding with flesh, followed by a startled yelp. They paused and turned to find Callax rubbing his forehead and extricating himself from a series of thorned vines. Trilorn supressed a laugh as their companion narrowed his eyes at a particularly stubborn strand embedded in his cloak, as though it had caused personal offence, before finally tugging the material free.

“I suppose you have it all figured out then,” Callax huffed, jogging to catch up before overtaking and proceeding to walk backwards to better converse with them, instinctively ducking several low-hanging branches before they cuffed him on the back of the head.

“As it happens – yes, I do. After many of these ritual explorations I have found myself with a great affinity for shadows,” they announced smugly, sending their energy towards the darkness beneath a nearby tree and intertwining them, imbuing it with mass and form until it coalesced into a person’s silhouette. Trilorn directed it at the boughs in their path and hummed in satisfaction as it pulled them out of their way, allowing them to walk past unimpeded. Then it bowed dramatically and redispersed into the surroundings.

“Well where’s the fear in that?” Callax asked amusedly, raising a brow in challenge, testing to see what response they could come up with. It was a game they played together, asking the questions that none but the Activated knew the answer to, and attempting to come up with possible explanations.

“That’s what the meditative stage is for,” Trilorn replied, folding their arms and tilting their chin imperiously, daring him to call out the obvious side-step. Admitting they didn’t know was entirely beside the point of their little back and forth.

Callax barely seemed to notice, steps faltering slightly as he looked away. “If you’re so certain you know what you’re on about, then why not slink off to the higher ups and ask to progress to the next phase?” he taunted lightly, his voice wavering with a thread of genuine question. “Why waste your time with me?”

Trilorn scanned their companion’s overly casual posture, making no attempt to hide their scrutiny, nor their concern.

When he still wouldn’t meet their gaze, they clasped their arms behind their back and lengthened their strides until they were walking at his side, eyes focused courteously on the path ahead. “What a ridiculous suggestion,” they announced sniffily, watching in their peripheries as Callax pivoted to walk in the right direction, staring at them cautiously. “I cannot move on yet… you need me too much.”

It was the closest to an admission that they’d ever come, and they both knew it – a promise that either they would both progress, or neither of them would.

Callax smiled softly, his posture loosening to its usual careless disarray, before affecting a gleeful outrage.

“I most definitely do not!” he exclaimed, folding his arms and pouting pointedly in Trilorn’s direction.

They levelled him with the flattest look they could manage in the face of such impossibly wide eyes. Perhaps they could see some appeal in the mortal form. “You are hopeless when unaccompanied. Even more so than usual, that is.”

Callax gasped, clutching his chest with one hand, pointing a finger at them in recrimination. “I resent that!”

It was getting very hard not to laugh. As always, he was intent on finding any way to break them down, and using all his prior experience to do so. It was likely he wouldn’t relent until he had won at least a smile, so Trilorn intended to make him work for it. “Resent it all you wish, but do so silently, or must I mention your last escapade with the mortals’ element of fire?”

Callax groaned, covering his face with his hands long enough that Trilorn had to pull him out the path of a tree, earning a delighted grin in return – one that made it clear they had done exactly as he’d hoped they would.

“One day I’m going to get you to drop that,” he huffed, leaning subtly into Trilorn’s hand where it was lingering on his arm.

They tightened their hold fractionally before releasing it, not moving out of his space as they both rounded a series of ferns and continued onto the dirt track beyond.

“Highly unlikely,” they declared, unable to prevent the fondness bleeding into their tone.

Callax hummed in consideration, tilting his head slightly and staring sideways at them. “Then I’ll have to work on my methods of persuasion.”  

Trilorn allowed them one pleased smile, nodding firmly. “Quite – I should expect no less from you. Now we are almost there, so-”

“Yeah, yeah – don’t talk to them unless you have to, keep it short if you do, and try to blend in,” he recited, eyes glinting as his countenance shifted into something far more formal and grandiose. “Remember – we are here to observe and to study, is that understood?”

“I do not sound like that in the slightest.”

“You’d like to think so wouldn’t you?” Callax teased, bumping their shoulders together lightly. “Note how I have your rules memorised.”

“Yes, yes, very impressive,” Trilorn said, stopping behind a large oak and turning to adjust the latch of Callax’s cloak. “Are you ready?”

“Always,” he replied, grinning at the extra attention. “Let’s do this.” And with a shared nod, they were off through the outer ring of trees to the world of mortals beyond.