Another deep breath filled Omid’s lungs with fresh air. Or as fresh as could be down here. Which was still surprisingly fresh for a ruin buried far under The Great Desert. One more deep breath, air not even slightly stale and Omid was back to pacing in front of the doorway.

“No, no...too clean...too fresh...in this far and it should be different. The books and teachers were all very clear this shouldn’t be…” The young man gestured about wildly as he still clutched onto the crystal and his short sword for dear life.

“Impossibly well preserved? No echoes? Not even a single sign of life? Oh that’s all easy, but being able to get fresh air down here? Absolutely not it just-” Omid stopped both in the middle of his rant and his frantic pacing, standing to look into the new hallway as his shoulders sagged.

So much nothing so far, just rooms full of nothing but ancient furniture. Stone and wood tables, chairs, and shelves. Impossibly well preserved indeed, but every bit of it picked clean with care. The tiniest layer of dust remained that reminded Omid of a house not cleaned in a week, much less actual ages long gone.

Omid stared down the shadowed room, arms hanging weak at his side as he took another deep breath of too fresh air. “Later, Omid. You got all the bad things out in the open, only the good left ahead...for now...or something…”

He awkwardly played with the crystal in his sword hand as he dragged his hand down from his forehead to his beard, leaning against the door frame and trying to blink away the exhaustion. A heavy sigh as he took the crystal from his sword hand and held it out into the dark room before carefully walking onward.

More bas reliefs awaited him as he made his way down a hall that much less massive than Omid had feared. Though the carvings were different here. Humans still dominated the raised red stone carvings, and while it appeared they were still putting things in boxes the things were now plants as opposed to beasts and other beings. None of it was anything Omid recognized, in part because many plants look similar and also because far fewer plants make it into the history books when compared to creatures of varying sorts.

Another door peeked into view at the edges of the strange crystal, its light never flickering like a flame. Almost as though it was a tiny hand held sun that was cool to the touch. As he walked closer to the newly revealed doorway, he pondered for a moment why he had so far yet to see a single actual door. Not even hinges to indicate that a door had once stood there. It was a curious conundrum but one that he had to disregard until it could possibly be relevant or there was more information.

Omid stopped at the new doorway to carefully peer in, and a second later the sound of his footsteps stopped.

Omid’s heart stopped at the doorway for a second or two, and only through sheer will did it start again as he gave a hard swallow and tried to casually steady himself against the wall as he still looked ahead to where the doorframe sat.

The fabric of his sleeve did little to stop the carvings on the stone wall from digging into his arm, and the discomfort barely registered in his mind at the moment. He had suspected that Sareen had been watching him this entire time, but an echo of his footsteps in a place without echo had confirmed that he was in fact still being watched.

Now the trick was not letting it be known he was capable of realizing when he was being watched, for the likely event that such a skill would be useful later.

He propped himself up and off of the wall, making a show of carefully leaning forward more and more until his eyes could just barely glimpse beyond the threshold. Then he quickly pulled back, and looked down to his sword with a light nod. Omid slowly raised the sword up, extending it into the doorway and angling the light of the crystal to get a view into the room reflected upon the shiny metal.

And having seen nothing immediately horrifying within the room, he shifted the angle ever so slightly to see behind him. It took a few seconds, but he saw two points of dull pale light reflecting in his blade. Omid thought for a moment that it could be a trick of the light, a wayward reflection of the crystal he was holding.

Until he saw them blink.

Omid angled his sword away, double checking the room and steeled himself before making a quick turn into the room. Sareen was watching alright, so he had to focus and ensure that his performance in this trial was satisfactory. He didn’t like his odds of being trapped down here until starvation.

The room that greeted him was like several others he had found within these ruins. Medium sized with several rows of what Omid guessed were drafting tables and an accompanying wooden chair. Several wooden shelves on the far wall, and absolutely nothing else. Omid let out a groan as he looked over the room and paced about. He leaned down, squinting as he looked over the furniture.

Every single bit of wooden furniture here looked to be at most a few decades old. Looking at the walls, ceiling, and ground also corroborated a story of this place looking far too young for having been overtaken by the sands ages ago. Omid scratched at his head as he stared at the ceiling, frowning before the frown fell to a wide eyed realization.

There were no windows here, and no sconces for candles or lanterns. Omid’s eyes were wide as he looked around the room once more trying to figure out how exactly they got any light in here, in a room that looked to be specifically for writing. The walls only contained the same carvings that he had grown accustomed to by this point. He remembered reading about panels that when pressed, pulled, or twisted activated any number of mechanisms in old ruins. The fact that the list of possible outcomes included “automated defenses” had Omid slowly backing away from one such patch of carvings.

“Well, no doubt a place of learning…” Omid said out loud as he put a hand to his chin, stroking lightly at his beard. “Quite a few rooms dedicated to writing, possibly even drawing...of animals...and plants.”

Omid kept casting out verbal fishing lines while pacing about, expecting Sareen to appear every time he turned around to make another lap of the medium sized room. He tried to cover his growing frown with a few fingers as he kept stroking at his beard, though his eyes betrayed his growing frustration.

“Er...they turned them...into books here and the books all aged into dust...but in their studies they found an...ointment that preserved wood...and stone...and just slathered it all ove-” Omid stopped himself as his guessing was getting far more desperate and nonsensical.

He thought to himself that when this far under the earth, he should probably stop digging himself into an even deeper hole. Omid made his way to the exit with slumped shoulders, casting a weary eye down the hall after where he had spotted Sareen before turning and heading onward. If this was a trial then all that should matter was the successful completion, not any amount of happiness involved in its endeavor .

However if happiness was mandatory here, Omid thought to himself whilst trudging along the corridor, he should just lay down and welcome his hopefully swift entrance to the afterlife.

A familiar sweet scent of dread hit Omid’s nose as he walked, and subsequently froze in place. That smell that had called to him out in the desert, drew him and Taljir in and revealed a flower growing from a skeleton. Omid tried to return to his pace in an attempt to not reveal what he had just figured out, and walked with all the grace of a man who had just been punched in the gut. He stumbled over to a wall and leaned on it as the scent that had already started to seep into his nightmares. Several shakes of his head through scrunched together eyes failed to free him of visions of an indigo bouquet bursting out of his mouth as his lungs were strangled and filled by their vines.

Waking up gasping for air then, and forcing himself to take a deep breath now as his eyes flung open at the smell getting stronger. There was nothing but barely illuminated hallway ahead of him in his vision, but his nostrils were filled with that familiar scent and...something else. Something else fresh and deceptively pleasant smelling, like a plant from Kanshasa’s darkest jungles hungering for another taste of flesh foolish enough to fall into its trap.

Omid gripped his sword tighter and pushed himself off the wall, then started walking faster and faster as he followed his nose. He broke into a jog as a look of determination spread over his face. Legs carrying him into a run as he resolved to face this head on. No more mind games, time to see what Sareen really wanted.

Even without echo, Omid’s footsteps still rang in his ears. It was a mixture of foolishness and resolve. Of anger and fear carrying him faster and faster towards whatever this was. This was a trial, to see how he performed and what he would do. He would face it with resolve in the face of fear.

The hallway opened up at the end there, leading into what appeared to be a large room as the crystal revealed only the outer fringes of it.

Omid kept running, blood pumping, lungs straining. Onward into the room that revealed itself as something of a courtyard. Over the threshold and onto a cobblestone floor, the ceiling now gone. Only a solid stone cavern far above beyond the reaches of the light yet still bearing the weight of the entire desert to remind Omid of how small he was here.

In this moment, he didn’t care.

Omid skidded to a stop as vines came into view, creeping over the cobblestone. Fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade as he held the crystal out, choosings his steps carefully around the vines as he advanced onward. Every step and the scent was more intense, every step and the vines grew more numerous and thicker. His shaking hand held out the crystal, looking for it.

Looking for that patch of indigo.

He swung his hand around, holding the crystal so tight he thought he might soon see its white light tinted red with his own blood. Until he saw a color all too familiar to him utterly and completely unexpected at the edges of the light. A flower, brightly and distinctly colored standing atop a fountain of the clearest water and riddled with vines.

A flower the same shade of green as Omid’s scarf.

Strangled by the vines of that indigo flower that had haunted Omid’s nightmares.

Omid stared the display down, his pounding heartbeat and gasping breaths slowing as he closed his mouth in a frown. He sheathed his sword and sat upon a patch of the fountain’s outer rim that was uncovered by vines, facing away from the scene of floral mockery. Nothing stared back at him from out there in the darkness. Not from back in the hallway, not from up in the cavern above, not from any which direction.

“Just a minute of rest, then I’ll continue.” Omid said as he rubbed at his eyes.

Exhaustion in mind and body and soul were all setting in, and Omid was trying to decide if he was going to slip any minute now or if he already had and he was a dead man walking. Which outburst was it? Which potential slip was the actual slip? Maybe it was even before he got down into these ruins?

“Right.” Omid groaned, finally opening his eyes and seeing no eyes looking back at him. “No time for that now.” he told himself as he stood up.

The moment of forced calm let Omid look around, seeing what remained of a once peaceful courtyard. Now overtaken by vines spreading out from the central fountain over the cobblestone ground and over several benches. His sword hand resting at his hip, a short bit of walking revealed a four sided courtyard, tall walls all covered in the carvings he had become accustomed to. Sitting high on three of the walls were a number of grotesques in the shape of fearsome beasts.

Omid counted an avian figure, a humanlike figure, and a serpentine figure. A fourth was so far the only damage to the reddish stonework he had seen in all his time down here. It was, however, standing watch over the doorway he had just come from.

“Well...that makes it easy to not choose the ominous one…” Omid said, squinting as he looked to the three other doors out there in the dark while carefully stepping around the vines.

It was then that he had a terrible idea, looking down to those vines and noticing that if bunched and braided together…

No he was right, that was a horrible idea.

They were probably cursed anyway...but if they weren’t…

Omid looked over each shoulder, not sure what he was expecting to see but after confirming that there was nothing he slowly withdrew his sword. He shook his head as he reached out to poke at one of the vines, crouching slightly in the event he needed to leap away.

Metal touched vine and absolutely nothing happened.

Sweat running down his brow as he gave another cautious glance around he reached out a bare hand to touch the vine, ready for the searing pain.

The vine was somewhat coarse, but did not cause searing pain.

Omid gave a cough, trying to clear his lungs of the vines that were about to tear through his body at any second. Only that floral scent assaulted him, though it was starting to become somewhat cloying it was in no way damaging.

“This is stupid...grandpa what would you do?” Omid asked himself as he searched for what looked to be the thickest and sturdiest looking vines. “Grandson did I ever tell you about the time I snuck into your grandmother’s room using only the vines growing in her garden? Yes? Well time to tell you again.”

The young man frowned, shaking his head. “Okay, let’s try that again. Hey Taljir would it be a very incredible thing worthy of awe and wonder if I used these vines to climb up onto the roof of this place and just skip all this nonsense? Yeah Omid that would be the most amazing thing ever just think of the stories you’d tell your grandkids after you find all the riches down here and skipped out on all the flesh eating ancient beasts.”

Omid held the sword in his hand, pausing as he held it in place to swing at a vine. “Hey Omid, how tired are you?” He asked himself. “Tired enough to think this is a good idea.” he said before hacking into a vine while wincing.

The wet slicing sound hung in the air as Omid’s eyes carefully pryed themselves open, seeing that nothing had happened aside from the intended vine now being severed. He picked it up with both hands, pulling at two ends to find that this would probably work if it was braided with others enough times. Omid wordlessly nodded to himself and continued his task of picking out and harvesting the most suitable vines. When he finally had what he estimated to be enough he sat down on one of the benches, balancing the crystal on his knee out of a refusal to not be in contact with it at all times, and set about braiding plants together for a foolish plan.

Years of cultural traditions were coming in handy, and though this was not nearly as easy as braiding his hair the basics were the same. It was a mixture of getting into the rhythm of things as well as staring out into the darkness every so often to ensure it still held nothing. At least nothing aside from Sareen observing just out of sight.

As he worked, he wondered if what he had seen was something akin to her true form. If such a thing existed at all, and she was not without any given form but that which she willed. He wondered how fruitful this endeavor was going to be, and if he might be able to find other entrances to this structure so that he might use the roof to skip all of the twisting hallways.

“Time to test that theory.” Omid said to himself as he finally completed his hastily thrown together vine rope, hoisting it up for inspection.

Though rope was being a bit generous here it looked as though it would probably hold him.

Omid tested it out, stretching it between his hands and frowning slightly before looking down to himself.

“Well...being thin should help…and it’s only...” He cast an unsure glance all the way up to the statue of a man sitting far above the doorway. “Really only about 2..ish levels up…”

He quickly tied together a loop at the end, retrieved the crystal from his knee and marched over to stand below the grotesque in the appearance of a man after sheathing his sword. The carvings that ran up the wall might serve as small grips to assist him up the face, but Omid knew he was not in any way experienced as a climber of sheer rock faces. He bunched up the vine rope, swung it in his arms a bit to gain some momentum and hurled it up at the grotesque.

And missed as the rope fell back down to the ground in front of him with a thud.

Omid stared at it for a second with a hand on his hip and shaking his head, disappointed in himself for thinking he was going to make it on the first attempt.

For his own sanity he didn’t count the number of attempts that it took, but after much effort he did manage to get the loop around the stone man sitting on the roof. Omid gave a small cheer as he put his weight onto the vine rope, finding that while it did audibly strain just enough to be concerning, it was holding his weight.

In his hand, there was now the dilemma of what to do with the crystal. Staring out at the oppressive darkness confirmed that pocketing it was out of the question. Climbing with crystal in hand was a terrible idea. Which left another terrible idea to allow him to put his first terrible idea into practice with the benefit of light.

Omid gingerly opened his mouth, wincing and grimacing as he made several failed attempts to bring the crystal to his lips and backing off every time as he rethought all of his life choices that had brought him here.

“Yes yes, hilarious I know.” Omid grumbled aloud to a still unseen Sareen, shaking his head a final time before placing the crystal between his teeth.

The hanging rope loomed tall over him as Omid held on for dear life and started to slowly ascend, finding footholds on the extensive stone carvings where he could while hauling himself up. He hadn’t made it far enough by the time his muscles started to burn and scream at him that this was the worst plan for having been on a limited diet and of dates, stone bread, and anxiety for far too long. Even gritting his jaw was out of the question unless he wanted to break several teeth.

A small sound of straining vines was as loud as thunder to Omid, his eyes going wide as he tried to speed up his ascent to the considerable protest of his already straining muscles. He willed himself on, thinking it was just a bit further. The stone man’s macabre features became clearer the higher Omid climbed, questioning if choosing the ‘man’ over the strange bird and the strange snake was really the best idea.

Much too late to turn back now. Hand over hand, foot slipping slightly only to regain it a second later. Don’t look down, just keep looking up and see how close you are. Which also means you are very high up and the fall would kill you and Sareen would just point and laugh.

Omid decided that he was very bad at not thinking about things, including not thinking about how he was bad about not thinking about things while trying to not die. A further thought to weigh him down as his arms threatened to burst into flames for the last stretch of wall to scale. One last burst of willpower and determination saw his shaking hand grab hold of the stone man’s foot to help pull himself up onto the roof.

He groaned and strained, nearly knocking the wind out of himself at the last minute as his stomach hit the edge of the roof. After finally flopping onto the flat surface, Omid quickly spat the crystal out into his hand before rolling onto his back to gasp for air while all sprawled out.

“Not..stupid...if...it works.” Omid said between strained gasps, staring at the far off cavern ceiling while catching his breath before propping himself up to see what had made this very wise and not at all stupid plan worth it.

Sitting up and holding the crystal out with a still shaking arm as his breath returned to him, there was little to be seen in the darkness. Climbing to his feet, he took a step forward to start exploring the rooftop before quickly going back to retrieve his vine rope. Getting down safely would be just as vital, and also he didn’t want to let his hard work go to waste.

Shining the crystal over the grotesque overlooking the courtyard, he spied the vine rope and pulled at it while coiling it up in his arms for convenient carry until something pulled back.

Most of the muscles in Omid’s body had been on fire a moment ago, and now every single last one was now frozen as his blood ran colder than the deepest darkest waters of the ocean.

It could, of course, just be snagged on one of the carvings. It was likely just snagged on one of the carvings. Omid was going to jiggle the vine rope around and it would free itself from one of the carvings and not reveal itself to be some entity that was tall enough to reach how far up the rope was at this point.

Omid jiggled the vine rope as sweat poured down his forehead and he held the crystal further from the edge, not wanting to see whatever was down there now. He tried pulling at it again, and let out a heavy sigh of relief as the vine rope was once again free. A moment later and he pulled the last of it up with a smile, revealing an indigo flower growing from the very end of the rope.

As it hung there, illuminated by the crystal, Omid didn’t move. His smile stuck to his face, wavering slightly as his right eye twitched and he tilted his head while clearing his throat.

“Alright.” He said with barely restrained disgust while coiling up the last of the vine rope and placing it over his shoulder in defiant indifference.

Omid walked on for a bit, the rooftop mercifully empty of any obstacles revealed in the light. His pace quickened as his confidence grew. So far this plan was working out and allowing him to bypass the labyrinthine interior he had been growing accustomed to.

Far off in the dark, he spied a glimmer. A reflection. Glass, perhaps?

Omid clutched the crystal tight and broke out into a light jog, propelled by curiosity and determination but still weighed down by his aching muscles. Before long a large stained glass dome emerged from the darkness. It stood tall on the roof, still in flawless condition like almost everything else here. Patterns in the glass revealed a wide assortment of animals and plants, all being observed by what appeared to be humans who held open books before them. Observing the humans, were three beings: a familiar avian figure, a familiar serpent figure, and a familiar man who looked to be wearing a second skin as revealed by the colored glass. And at the base of one side of the glass dome, a large pane was broken.

Escaping from the missing glass was a dull, distant, white light. Exactly the same as the one Omid was holding in his hand. He quickly closed his hand over the crystal, hid behind a still intact pane of glass and peaked in. This appeared to be a vast central room, tall wooden shelves lining the walls and a far off familiar figure facing away from Omid sat upon a desk.

Omid backed away from the great glass dome, thinking for a moment. It came as no surprise to him that Sareen could move that fast, and she was no doubt waiting for him to give her the solution to the trial she set out for him. He was fairly certain he knew by this point, but he needed something...else.

Partially unclasping his hand to let a little light out, Omid found the end of his vine rope and cut the indigo flower from it. He tucked it into his scarf, and looked for some place to secure the vine rope before finding a bit of thick metal frame jutting out from where the glass pane had been smashed. Letting out only enough light from his hand to secure the vine rope, he tossed the slack down through the missing pane and grabbed a hold of it with crystal still in hand.

Quickly sliding down the vine, he realized all of this relied upon the vine rope being long enough so that he would not tumble and fall to his death as Sareen pointed and laughed.

His feet suddenly hitting the ground and causing him to go stumbling while almost losing the crystal brought his thoughts to an equally abrupt stop. As it flew from his hand he grabbed at it several times before clasping down on it mid air. Opening his hands up, he illuminated two indigo eyes staring at him from the traditional distance of too close.

“Zoological and botanical research center!” Omid blurted out.

Sareen tilted her head to the side as one of her brows raised while her eyes narrowed.

“A place for cataloguing the many wonderful living things of the time.” Omid kept speaking as fast as he could. “Writing, transcribing, cataloguing! I’ve spent a lot of time in libraries, though it took me a while to recognize one this strange.”

The Kirzallan’s eyes went wide, untitled and a smile returned to her. “Correct! Though I must admit that a library without books is a very sad thing indeed.” She said with the slightest hint of sorrow.

“Oh absolutely, it just makes me sad really.” Omid lamented, breathing easy now and growing bold. “Though you can still find interesting things lurking about in the dark.”

Omid gave a wry smile as he pulled the indigo flower from his scarf, and held it to Sareen. The young woman’s eyes lit up instantly as she stared at the flower in sheer wonder.

“Where did you find that?” She asked with complete and total sincerity matched only by her confusion.

“Well-” Omid’s prepared witty remark died as the confusion spread to him and he stumbled over his words. “See...same place as I found...those vines.”

He gestured back to the vine rope as Sareen craned her head around him to look at the dangling vine rope before locking eyes with him again.

“I had been wondering where you managed to find that as well.” Sareen noted, confusion still present as focused on the indigo flower. “And this is…?”

Omid’s mind raced faster than lightning and spun like a maelstrom. “It’s...it’s for you.” He said while still not fully conscious as his mind tried and failed to process too much.

Sareen’s eyes shot up to Omid’s. “What?” She asked, barely above a whisper.

“Uh…” He gestured wildly with his hands, hoping it somehow meant something. “You said to negotiate reality...and so I took those vines there…”

“You took the vines?” Sareen took a step closer, eyes growing wider.

“I took the vines-” Omid held up his crystal bearing hand in defense, framing Sareen in it’s light for an even more nerve wracking visage. “-and I thought hey, how best to think outside of the box than to get out of the box!” Omid said with an excruciating laugh on the verge of crying. “And also...took this flower to….uhhh...show that...I can uh fffffiiiiiind...fortune?....fortune even in the most barren of places!”

Omid tried showing every single last tooth in the smile he forced out after having slogged and stumbled through that speech, deftly stumbling around to find the right combination of words that his exhausted brain could conjure to keep him alive.

Sareen’s silken touch removed the flower from Omid’s violently shaking hand, as she looked it over, inhaling its overpoweringly sweet scent. She returned Omid’s agony smile with one equally as bright but inversely genuine, and stepped around him to the hanging vine rope. With one hand she held up the crystal to look it over before sing-speaking a few words of magic, causing all of Omid’s hard work to turn to sand that swirled down around the indigo flower. It formed a bell jar and golden base, the flower floating within it.

“You get more interesting all the time, Omid.” She said as she turned to him, carefully inspecting her handiwork with delight before finally looking him in the eyes and right through him.

Omid’s arm was still outstretched, his mind having failed to inform him that there was no longer anything to hold. It was instead focused on not screaming and, after too long of a pause, finally speaking.

“You as well.” He said, unsure how much if at all he was lying while finally lowering his arm. A weak hand still holding up a light crystal.

For as long as he could, he kept eye contact with that piercing gaze of hers. Never averting his eyes or even blinking for fear of looking out into the darkness and finding a familiarly strange set of eyes blinking back.