Chapter Text
while faeriewood was a pleasant place to be, the solo trip to the area was not nearly as fun. the barrier that protected it prevented portalling straight into the sacred woods, but that was fine, the sage loved travelling! seeing the sights! researching! but the ghost yeast forest was too dangerous to roam by oneself, and the other route was the skim milk river (traveling by boat was quite boring, in pristine milk’s opinion).
why even go at all, though, if it's such a hassle? well, the sage of truth believed faeriewood to be the holder of much knowledge lost to time, like the ancient heroes and nature of the soul jams. pristine milk was desperate to return (his previous times had been purely business, meetings with elder faerie and the other virtues to discuss the booming populations of beast-yeast and the danger of the continent) and read for days.
especially given the recent development in which he found out that the truthless recluse held the counterpart soul jam of deceit to the sage’s soul jam of knowledge, despite the recluse not knowing that he knew. especially given that while the sage trusted him to not cause any real issues, he knew he wouldn’t gain any answers about how in the world he wasn’t trapped behind a magical barrier in an entirely different continent.
he didn’t want to hurt the recluse, but he needed to know what to do…
…which led the sage to where he was now, at the recluse’s door!
“‘clusey!” pristine milk called, knocking rapidly. “c’moooon, i only have a tiny favor to ask of you!”
the door cracked open after three more minutes of knocking, the three eyes of the recluse’s staff stared out at him with a harsh glare. “what.”
“i have a request of you.” the sage stuck his foot in between the frame and the door before it could slam shut. “ah, remember you owe me one? this is that one!”
“what is it you need.”
“company on a trip to faeriewood?”
the door tried to slam again, but the sage kept it open. the villainous eyes glared deeper at him, and the recluse’s voice hissed, “absolutely not.”
“‘clusey, c’mon, just this one thing for me? i can make you a disguise, i’ll leave you alone for however long you want, i just have something incredibly important to do—”
“why can’t you ask someone else?” the recluse pulled the door open, and gosh, was he a picture. he looked just the same as always, but he was even more radiant with the way the sun was hitting his messy hair. “why not portal to the barrier?”
“i don’t wish to pause sapphire's classes nor candy's studies. you have the best healing magic known to cookiekind.” the sage smiled apologetically. “and i much prefer the journey. i know you have a displeasure for leaving your peak for even just a day, but please. i’ll even throw in leaving you alone for a week, two weeks, a month, afterward… just, please?”
the recluse sighed and the staff pulled away so the door could swing open to reveal the man fully. “a week long journey, minus however long you plan to stay. what do you expect to leave for your lectures?”
“a week and a half stay, my dear. and a magical copy of myself, so that the visit remains secret. the faeries prefer my trips to be confidential, it took a lot of convincing to get the king to even permit my entry, so it’s imperative i appear as if i haven’t left at all.” a grin spread across pristine milk’s face and he opened his arms as if preparing for an embrace. however, the recluse pulled a face, so pristine milk lowered his arms.
“thank you, truly, my dear.” the sage giggled. “i hope to leave in two days’ time, to give myself enough time to prepare for my absence and to pack. is there anything you need?”
“no.” the recluse sighed, free hand drifting back to the door. “i’ll prepare as well. goodbye, sage.”
“until then!” pristine milk waved as the recluse shut the door, a bright smile plastered on his face.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
the sage had one of his rabbits hold up a checklist and a pen an hour before he went to get a good night’s sleep as a final check, pacing back and forth in his study with a hand on his chin. “lesson plans for two weeks…” his hand trailed against the desk, blinking at the stack of papers. “check.”
“lectures prepared on varying subjects— check!” he clasped his hands together as he planted his feet on the ground. “spell perfected…”
he snapped his fingers and a projection of himself appeared in front of him with a grand bow. the sage did a few checks to make sure it could function on its own, then waved his hand to disperse the illusion. “check.”
“and i quadruple-checked everything in my pocket dimension to make sure i packed everything the trip required. water, food, tents, changes of clothes.” pristine milk nodded. “yes, we’re fully prepared. but maybe one more check…”
the rabbit let out a groan as all the drawn checks disappeared from the list and the sage started over.
the next morning, pristine milk woke as early as he could. he got up, got dressed in his usual clothes, and snapped his fingers to summon the copy of himself. he shooed the illusion off to the academy, then ripped open a portal beneath his feet and dropped into his other-realm.
glittering stars greeted him, and the other-realm rippled like water beneath his heels as he touched his feet to the surface. he padded through with his golden staff at his side, opening another portal with a snap of his fingers. he stepped through, staring at the crumbling cream-and-white castle before him.
usually, the recluse had a barrier surrounding the peak of truth. however, the sage was the only one who could step through it. it was likely the effect of the soul jam, which permitted him more magic than the typical cookie.
“reeeecluuuuuse!” pristine milk called in a sing-songy voice, raising his hand to knock on the pair of doors. they pulled open after not long, revealing the recluse with a tired expression on his face.
“ready to go?”
“i was under the impression we would be leaving later today.” the recluse rubbed at one of his eyes, stepping out of the castle and watching as the doors shut behind him.
“of course not!” the sage grinned. “the village is all sound asleep. there will be no one to watch us leave and gain suspicion.”
“yes, of course,” the recluse grumbled. with a quick portal, they stood just outside the village, facing the ghost yeast forest.
pristine milk smoothed out his hair and began to float forward, pulling his map from his pocket dimension. “the trip through the ghost yeast forest will take up the majority of our walk, but there is a break in the trees where the barrier and faeriewood begin.”
“right.” the recluse followed, his staff tapping against the forest floor as he moved.
“and we’ll need to camp as soon as the sun sets. the ghost yeasts come out at night. i should be able to keep up a spell if i stay up—”
“absolutely not.” the recluse cut in, and the sage turned to see his annoyed expression. “the last time you stayed up every night for more than five days, your magic completely disappeared and your soul jam was the only thing keeping you upright. we share the burden.”
“awww, ‘clusey, you do care!” pristine milk cooed, clasping his hands together.
“i care about the fact that this trip’s secrecy would entirely fall through if you magical illusion at the academy suddenly disappeared. it would cause a continent-wide panic, and even after you revealed yourself to be okay, you would have to explain why you left at all, which would put the faeries in danger because you are far too attached to your Truth.” the recluse rubbed the bridge of his nose when he finished, then began to walk again.
pristine milk giggled, though he let silence lull for a few minutes before his feet touched the ground. he dropped his voice to a whisper, his hand reaching up to touch his soul jam. “we should keep the magic use to a low. all creatures that live in the deeper woods can sense the imbalance. i’d rather not call attention to ourselves until we sleep.”
the recluse gave a simple hum, glancing over his shoulder with a questioning look.
pristine milk pulled his golden staff from his pocket dimension, twirling it before using it as a sort of walking aid, similar to the recluse’s beloved orchid. with how the sage normally floated wherever he needed to go, he tended to be wobbly when he completely stopped using that constant spell. the staff was a simple solution.
as they walked, the sage took more and more mental notes of the forest. when he had gone to the faerie kingdom before, he had taken the skim milk river, which was a safer solo trip but much slower compared to other routes. the ghost yeast forest was far more creepy, with the way the gray trees appeared dead but their bark twisted into screaming faces and seemed to breathe.
darker gray leaves flitted down to the forest floor, falling apart into ashes as soon as they hit the surface. “i believe little has been documented about this forest.” the sage leaned down with a vial he pulled from his pocket dimension to scoop up some of the ash left by a leaf. “of course, it’s not worth it for a common cookie to come through, unless you’re coming from the pristine city and looking for a quicker way to get to faeriewood. i simply just haven’t found the time to stay here to research.”
“do you ever get tired of your own voice?”
“of course not! half of my job is talking!” the sage grinned, catching up to the recluse to walk beside him.
“...right.” the recluse let out a long sigh.
“aw, you love it, truthless. anyway, it’d be safe to assume there are species only accustomed to this forest, right? ones that don’t exist anywhere else on beast-yeast— new kinds of yeast spores, gnomes, rabbits, even deer.” pristine milk gasped, grabbing the recluse’s shoulder and forcing them both to halt. “there must even be never-before-seen plants!”
“the point of this route is to be faster—” the recluse suddenly cut himself off, glancing from side to side before putting his hand over the sage’s mouth. “sh.”
“i wasn’t even—”
“shhh.” the truthless recluse glared, dropping his voice to hiss between his teeth. “we’re being watched.”
the recluse did a slight nod of his head to a direction behind him as he dropped his hand from the sage’s mouth, and pristine milk glanced up at a tree to see a soft flashing light in the branches. more joined it, all flashing in different patterns.
“oh,” pristine milk said quietly, gently walking past the recluse to peer up at the tree. “these are familiar.”
“i don’t like it,” the recluse’s voice hissed. “let’s keep going.”
the sage ignored him, shaking his head a little. he had read about little flashing creatures that roamed trees before, though they were all the way in the land of Freedom. owl-lights, the smallest species of owl on beast-yeast, and typically kept as pets among the kala-namak knights to be a sort of guiding light during the night.
when he looked closer, he could see wings and feathers between each flash. pristine milk held out his hand holding the staff and made a noise he couldn’t really identify, tilting his head slightly. the biggest light made a cooing sound and fluttered down to his hand after some hesitance.
the sage smiled and used his free hand to rub just under the bird’s chin, and it spread its wings with a content flash of light and a coo.
“see?” the sage smiled, turning back around. “pure salt is quite fond of these ones, nearly as much as they are of their horse. not a clue how some of them ended up here.”
“we’re losing daylight.” the recluse shifted uncomfortably, his expression tightening as the sage stroked the owl’s feathers.
“don’t tell me you’re jealous, my dear.” pristine milk gave a small laugh, returning his staff to the ground to steady himself. when the recluse’s face soured, pristine milk grinned. “i’m kidding, ‘clusey.”
he began to walk again with the recluse following at his side. the owl chirped, ruffling its feathers before settling and letting its body fizz into a continuous glow. “thank you, my friend,” the sage murmured.
the forest, once again, lulled into silence apart from the sage’s quiet ramblings for a few hours. the recluse did little to entertain it, only eventually coming to a stop and glancing from side to side. “we should camp soon.”
pristine milk blinked, though he nodded. “brilliant idea! let’s find a spot.”
it took about ten minutes of searching, but the recluse managed to find a small clearing. the sage opened his pocket dimension and pulled the tent bag out, emptying the stakes and fabric onto the ground. he turned to perch the owl-light on a nearby bush, then put the tent together with the recluse’s unenthusiastic help.
pristine milk flicked the tent flap open and turned to invite the owl-light inside. the bird chirped with a buzz of light, gently flapped over to land on the ground, and then hopped inside. the sage smiled and then beckoned the recluse to come inside the tent. “it’s the safest option,” he explained, “and i have sleeping bags. i’m about to cast the protection spell around the tent, and it’d be best to keep it to a limited perimeter.”
the recluse stiffly nodded before crouching and climbing inside the tent. the sage followed, closing the flap as he pulled on the zipper. he sat down in the middle of the tent and raised one hand to cast the spell, watching as a faint blue glow shone through the gold and white fabric. the bird chirped, hopping closer to nuzzle against the sage’s pant leg.
the recluse had crossed his legs as he sat on one side of the tent, his expression unchanging as the sage opened his pocket dimension and fished out the sleeping bags. one was kept in a dark blue bag, and the other in a bright gold. pristine milk tossed his friend the dark blue one and snickered as the recluse stared dumbly down at it.
“do you still not sleep, my dear?” the sage opened his own bag and slowly pulled out the fabric of the sleeping bag, neatly laying it on the other side of the tent. the bird chirped and flapped to settle itself in the middle of the fabric.
“i’ll take first watch.” the recluse set the unopened bag down in front of him before fixing his mismatched gaze on pristine milk. he lifted up a hand to take over the spell, manually controlling it to make sure it did not fall.
the sage snapped, transforming his day clothes into a white nightgown with frills with a sleeping mask on his forehead. “‘kay. wake me up in a few hours.” with that, and a last look at recluse, he tucked himself into the sleeping bag and pulled the mask over his eyes.