Omid stared at the high ceiling, sprawled out on the bed in his new robe made of a fabric of such quality he had only read about it. The bedding was of a similar quality worthy of royalty, but then he was now the apprentice to a princess and this was all happening. A fact that was for now mitigated by how comfortable this was, just staring at that mosaic ceiling and the bit of light peeking in through a high window. Nicer than the “guest room” he had stayed in out in The Great Desert. Perhaps Sareen wanted to save the truly luxurious for her own home?

That made sense, Omid thought. Hit them with something nice early on, then escalate later on to show your wealth was even greater than previously estimated. Which meant that there was probably going to be a point where she would kill an entire army in front of him with one spell just to show off.

He fiddled with one of the sheets between his fingers, noting how it would probably cost enough to buy several houses depending on the dyes used. Was it a violet? Checking would require moving, and Omid was currently thoroughly engaged with counting every tile in that mosaic.

Fifty-six.

Fifty-seven.

Many.

Close enough.

A more accurate count could wait until after he slept. Again. As he had already passed out after finishing his bath. Omid also seemed to recall waking up and for a moment thinking it was all a dream, as the realization caused him to pass out again. It was possible that too was a dream, and honestly he was losing track. He had no idea how day and night worked up here. On the moon. The greater moon? Perhaps the lesser moon? Was that terminology going to get him killed here? That light could be morning, afternoon, or “night” for all he knew.

Omid had to find a way to get up, against the gravity of this comfy robe and cozy bed. There was much to do and the temptation to do nothing was too strong. With monumental effort, he propped himself up on his elbows and found the sheets to be indigo. In retrospect, this should have been obvious. He rolled himself off the bed, forcing him to quickly catch himself on the tile. It was an effective way to force oneself out of bed while also getting a burst of adrenaline to lessen the temptation of returning to a comfortable rest.

With wobbly legs he finally stood up, steadying himself as he looked around. The room was separated by wood and cloth screens at varying points that made it seem smaller than it really was. Though there was a good deal of furniture of varying sorts, there was nothing in the way of anything that made the room feel personal. Shelves and tables sat empty, begging the question of if they had always been so empty or this was a cyclical state for them all.

A number of saddles sat by the door, and it took Omid a few bleary eyed blinks to realize they were his own. The initial question of when they had been delivered met with the near immediate thought of “probably some time between an overly long bath and one of the several times spent passed out”. Shuffling his way over to them, he bumped into the pile his quickly shed clothes had formed on the floor.

Groaning, he reached down to retrieve his leather belt of pouches and sword. As he hoisted it into view his frown began to grow as the calm and lack of immediate danger revealed a concerning fact: there was an additional pouch here. The leather was of an ever so slightly different color, and metal buttons allowed it to be snapped to a belt as opposed to a leather feed-through design. In style, it was close to that of the others but different enough to not hold up to scrutiny. Almost as if it was designed as such.

Omid held the belt in front of his face in a death grip before looking over both of his shoulders, expecting someone or something to be there. Finding no one and nothing, he reached out a shaking hand to unbuckle the closure and ever so slowly reached inside. His fingers brushed up against a miniature scroll of paper held shut by a tiny green wax seal bearing a black glass “coin”. Opening it up, in small letters he read the following.

“Hold the clear glass disk in moonlight with the obsidian disk behind it. Keep the obsidian disk until the time comes to exchange it.”

Omid read it several times, confused as to what clear disk it could be mentioning as he tried to pluck meaning from every letter until it hit him. His eyes went wide as realization hit him and he scrambled to open another pouch to retrieve the disk that Aiz had given him at the start of this journey. Setting his belt and the small scroll down, he looked around the room for where a shaft of pale light filtered in from the tall window. Was that moonlight up here?

One way to find out.

He ran to the corner of the room, holding the disks up into the light and heard a scratching noise followed by an all too familiar voice.

“Hello? Oh one moment, here we are.” Aiz’ voice grew clearer. “Hello? Who’s there?”

Omid’s eyes almost bulged out of his head. “Aiz?!”

“....OMID?! Good news, everyone! Omid is alive!....yes that one….no this is not a joke I-....the timing is highly suspect but...no, no that’s a perfectly good question. Omid are you dead?” The old mage asked with far too much casualness.

“....no, though I feel as though I could have died and-”

“Typically that’s a yes or no question, though I understand circumstances might get quite complicated.” Aiz said with a chuckle before turning fully serious. “But I’m going to need a very clear answer this time, everyone is freaking out that I finally heard from you at your funeral. Despite having stated very clearly in the past that that is not something I am capable of doing. Yet.”

Omid blinked a few times, shaking his head. “I’m alive, against all odds.”

“Wonderful! He’s alive everyone!” Cheers could be heard in the warbly, far away sounds emanating from the glass. “And what of Taljir?”

Omid winced, gritting his teeth. “He is...technically alive.”

“Omid we just spoke about this-”

“Yes and this is one of those...rather unusual circumstances.” He spoke faster, looking over his shoulder as if expecting someone else to be in the room. “For now, let’s say he is imprisoned in a very unique way that technically has him alive should I succeed in freeing him. Until that point he is effectively dead. I think.”

“Taljir is alive, but captured! Omid is working to rescue him!” Aiz called out before the warble turned to a whisper. “Let them have this, it’s also far easier to explain.”

Omid wasn’t about to protest what was technically true, but he was going to protest another realization. “...Aiz...were you using this thing to spy on me?”

“Absolutely.” He happily confirmed.

The young man bit his tongue, scrunching up his eyes at what that could have meant. “...how much did you see? Or hear?”

“Weeeeeeell technically nothing. Yet. Once you got back I would have asked you for the disk and I would have had all I needed to see if you were fit to become my apprentice!” Aiz said with a laugh.

The warbly laugh sent a chill to Omid’s core as he gave a shiver. “So does that mean...sound or sight or…?”

“Mostly sound. Now, where was it you said you were my boy?” Aiz asked, throwing aside Omid’s concerns.

Omid gave a heavy sigh, counting to ten in his head before speaking. “One of the moons. I think the greater moon.”

The warbling laugh of Aiz carried throughout the cavernous room, slowed, and Omid could feel the look of shock despite the great distance. The old mage spoke calmly, and asked clearly “Omid how did you get to one of the moons?”

“Kirzallan.” Omid spoke in just as calm a tone. “After she turned Taljir into a small glass figurine, I went with her and she decided to make me her apprentice. That involved going to her palace on the moon.”

There was a long pause before Aiz finally spoke. “Omid I worry you took my joke about journeys into the desert being like women to the most literal possible extent.”

Omid was thankful that none could see his wounded look and head hanging low. “I….perhaps?”

“Well.” Aiz, for once, sounded utterly astounded and at a loss for words. “I was going to ask how you managed to turn a device that should only be capable of recording into one that can transmit but when you’ve taken up with a woman like that I suppose many things are possible.”

“First, it’s not like that. I’m just her apprentice.” Omid corrected.

“I didn’t say what it was like, but your insistent denial is telling.” The old trapmaster observed.

Omid bit his tongue before continuing. “And second, this was not her doing. I received this small disk...an obsidian disk from...well I’m not sure.” He thought for a moment, wracking his mind over where he could have had this placed on him. By one of the servants here? His eyes went wide as the memory hit him. “No, there was...a man. I believe. We were at a gathering of Ascended of every sort, and we were fleeing. I took a tumble and this...I believe he was a young man...gave me something he said I dropped. In it was this polished obsidian ‘coin’ and instructions.”

Aiz was silent for the longest time, just as Omid was about to speak again to confirm he was still there he finally responded. “I plan to steal you, as an apprentice. You have survived this long where it would be unlikely to do so, and seen things none have lived to speak of. What did this young man look like?”

Omid opened his mouth to respond, only for it to turn to a frown as his brows furrowed and the realization hit. “I...I don’t remember...it was just yesterday. Only for a moment but…”

“Human in appearance? Or something else?” Aiz tried to keep Omid focused.

The frown overtook Omid as even that most basic of detail eluded him, and he regained that chill. “I don’t recall.”

“Extremely troubling, but nothing to be done about it for now aside from maintaining vigilance. I will need at least a week, to return to my study. Likely longer from there to fully devise a plan.” Aiz thought out loud. “Can you last that long?”

“I have little choice, so I must.” Omid said, gaining some resolve. “Gives me time to rescue Taljir.”

Aiz laughed. “I knew I picked well. Now, let’s see here...you! Also you!” There was muffled yet audible confusion on the other side of the glass. “Yes he’s really alive, and I need you two to go retrieve him and Taljir. Also alive, yes. On the moon. The Greater Moon, correct. Yes the very same one.”

Omid glanced around, feeling the awkwardness creep in as the warbling voices became muffled from the sounds of an argument.

“ARE YOU CRAZY, OLD MAN?!?”

Omid recognized that voice.

“Well I am a mage, so-”

“Karimala?” Omid called out, thankful for another familiar voice in lieu of a face.

“OMID!?” Karimala and Baz both responded with absolute astonishment, the sounds of scrambling ensued.

Aiz cut in. “I was just asking the two young lovers if they would be interested in going to rescue you but they didn’t believe me.”

“W-we’re not-” Both of them tried to protest only for Aiz to cut in once more.

“Why do all you young people keep trying to hide it? You’re not even good at hiding it!”

Despite the impossible distance between them, Omid felt a strong connection with Karimala and Baz at that moment. As they argued on the other side, a thought caught up to Omid. He did want to leave, didn’t he? He of course wanted to return to a measure of normalcy and study under Aiz, right? That was the sane thing to do, and he was very sane. No fearing for his life at every turn from things that most men still living only ever dreamed of seeing. Vestiges of ages long past that existed only in hidden corners of the world, quickly becoming a daily occurrence.

A woman who was...many things, least of all his gateway into this world.

Obviously he would want to leave all that behind. But in the unlikely event that he was actually insane, a rescue mission would at least free Taljir.

“It’s settled then!” Aiz had somehow managed to win them over as Omid had daydreamed. “We shall await your contact by glass in one week’s time for a status update, and plan from there. In the meantime, if you can I want you to contact me tomorrow. I want to test if I can teach you magic through this...mechanism. You will need all you can if this rescue is to work.”

That got a smile out of Omid. “I shall do what I can, and thank you. All of you...it has been some time since I heard a fully friendly voice.”

“We’ll be there before you know it!” Baz reassured him. “Just hang in there! We’ll find that something good I promised on the way back, I owe you that positivity.”

“And I’m looking forward to that book you’ll be writing about your experiences, poetic speech and all.” Karimala assured him.

Omid gave a weak smile. “Were you two really stuck on the last things you said to me that badly?”

There came a silence that spoke volumes.

“No!” Karimala protested.

“Yes…” Baz confessed.

“Yes but in our defense we thought you died and we had jinxed you and Taljir to death.” Karimala admitted, guilt starting to shine through.

Omid shook his head, despite not being able to see them. “And I’ve been re-viewing every step of this trek in my head on a daily basis. This is my doing, but I don’t intend to make those mistakes again.”

“My boy, don’t blame yourself for the tricks of a Zallan.” Aiz waved off his self-blame. “You have lived this long, and there are few who can claim similar. Now go, we have taken enough of your time and your Zallan is likely to be watchful. We shall speak soon.”

With that, Omid moved the glass disks out of the light and the room was once more silent with only his memories as evidence that it really happened.

If he was really going to do this, he had much work to do. And no matter what he eventually decided, it was best to not stay idle.