What would Mother think? What would Father say? Had they found out about my exile? I couldn't imagine the news eluded them for long. It was one thing when it took a century to build my first halo, but banishment was a stain far greater than dim wit. 

Lying in a sheetless bed, I grieved over my lost life. 

I should have listened when they told me to leave the other worlds alone. God's, the shame I brought hadn't been known in ages. The last angel to fall committed far worse sins than I. Perhaps, given time, the elders would reconsider my punishment. 

In the meantime, I had little choice but to acclimate. 

The three plains were unique but interwoven. Though I had been raised in the Overlands for most of my life, I wasn't ignorant of the midland's wonder anymore than I was of the Underlands. Perhaps had I known less, the elders might have judged less harshly than they did.

Regardless, for everything I knew in theory, experiencing it firsthand was indescribable. Each day was a new pain, but as my roommate came to jump-start my day, I found a face of joy. However, my eyes were strained to wear without falsehood. 

"They might have taken your halo, but trust me, you're full of magic. I wish I'd had someone to tell me everything I'm about to teach you," Tristan explained. 

He had woken me from my sleep with vigor. As I sat up, he tossed a pair of fitting black pants, a cream sweater with sleeves shredded at the wrists to match the approximate length of my arms, and a scarf I assumed must have been stolen. Obviously, all of it was stolen. I might have thought the elements were taken from his wardrobe until I found a scent heavy in the fabric that couldn't match Tristan's. I suppose the attire I had arrived in was too ornate to venture into the world beside him, but was it necessary to take another man's garb for my sake? Perhaps he assumed his aesthetic wouldn't bind well with my personality.  Tristan wore the same ripped jeans I had met him in, accompanied by the addition of a graphic t-shirt with lettering I couldn't read and a black leather coat adorned with fur inside the hood to keep it warm.

"What do angels and demons have in common?" He asked while I stood to get dressed.

The gold of my angelic robes clattered and clanked as they fell to the floor before I was nude enough to dawn a human disguise. 

"We're forbidden from exposing ourselves to humans," I answered, but Tristan replied," Yes, but do you know why?"

What did he think of me, a fallen angel? Whether I was tossed out or left of my own volition, I was disgraced. Did Tristan think we were the same? I wondered while he treated me with nonchalance kin to something we were far from. Was I the friend he imagined? How did I get him, a demon, to take me? How did I convince his heart? Did demons have true hearts, or were they all mind and soul? They were undoubtedly in their bodies. 

As I pulled stolen pants up my legs, I was reminded of a growing inconvenience I had to adjust to on earth. Being trapped within a set human form was a hell of its own. How did humans go through every day confined to single shapes? While I hadn't any hang-ups over my darker skin tone, I would have liked to have had greater height. In the Overlands, I could take the shape of a giant or sprout wings to fly where my hands couldn't reach. On earth, I hardly qualified to play a game known as basketball. 

As such, pants refused to stay on my hips till Tristan offered me his belt. 

"Our power doesn't come from the Overlands or the Underlands. We generate the magic inside us. Without horns or halos, we don't have a convenient way of accessing that power, but there are unconventional ways," Tristan went on. 

He offered me a pair of his shoes, a heavier boot than my feet were used to carrying, but they would keep me warm. 

"I don't want to bleed myself or make deals with witches," I stated before he could suggest what my mind assumed he would. 

My roommate only laughed before correcting my assumption. 

"No, it's nothing like that. The way you built a halo in the Overlands, you can build a new object here on Earth."

"With what? Humans don't have the material to craft halos."

"You're not building a halo," he explained.

We left my bedroom and the apartment shortly after. Tristan's apartment was atop a common complex. But his unit, though attached as others were, should not have existed. His apartment, unit 333.5, was unknown to the landlord, the city, and anyone of common blood such as humans. It was only accessible to otherworldly beings like us. 

After shutting and locking the front door, it vanished from view entirely. In its place, the illusion of a large potted plant took shape. Despite my ability to see through the deception, even I couldn't open the door again without Tristan present. Not without a halo.

On our way down several flights of steps, Tristan took from his pocket an odd trinket, a marble. It was the size of a cherry tomato. Its color was a swirl of dark purples and cosmic specs, but most notable was something at its core. As he held the object to my eye, I could nearly determine what it was, but he pulled it away too soon.

"What is that?" I asked. 

"My conduit. I made it here on earth," Tristan said with pride. 

As we descended steps that went on forever under my new boots, snow made the city around us a blur. It wasn't until we reached the bottom that I could see the street. 

"It's not as durable as horns, but with my object, I can use magic," he explained.

"And what if it breaks?" I asked with skepticism. 

"Oh, it'll break. These things are too weak to last more than a week. But I'll make another when it comes to that," he said.

"It's that easy?"

Tristan laughed as the wind threatened to push me down the steps.

"It's anything but easy. But to live on earth as we are, you'll need to build a conduit before you do anything else," Tristan said before grabbing my shoulder. 

He had to help me the rest of the way. Walking was a concept I understood but never had to do until my arrival on Earth. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Tristan tossed his marble into the air and caught it in his mouth. I watched as he swallowed it whole with an audible gulp. 

He told me, "Take my hand." 

I gave him my palm but asked, "Where are we going?"

With a blink of Tristan's eyes, we moved without moving. Space sucked us into a pocket and flung us out into a place unknown to me. 

"You'll get used to walking eventually. I'm impressed you made it down the steps," my roommate laughed. 

"It's true?" my eyes and mouth spoke together. 

His object, his conduit, had worked.

"You thought I was lying?" He chuckled and brushed the snow from my head and shoulders.

But where were we? A museum of sorts? From wall to wall, there were antiques and items displayed as trophies. 

"Welcome to Tarlac's Tokens. This is where I learned to make my conduit," Tristan said as I looked over the room. 

There must have been a dozen or more artifacts older than me in that place. What creature had amassed so many wonders of history?

"This Tarlac must be a demon as well?" I suggested while picking up a stone amulet from the dragon era. 

"Not at all. Tarlac is human. And he's our boss." 

"He's our what?"