Some time around the point where a servant arrived at Omid’s door to escort him to the stables, Omid remembered that crafting clothes took a long time. It was also at this time he realized that his only clean clothes was the robe he was wearing. He placed it very low on the list of things to worry about, far below “survive”. Quickly donning some slippers, he followed the servant to the stables. She was another jumpy young woman, perhaps a few years older than Omid. He was starting to suspect that “jumpy” and “skittish” were some of the default states for the servants here.

“Is Sareen still busy?” Omid asked, trying to make note of the twists and turns of the palace for later while still following along.

The young woman gave a slight nod, not turning to face him. “She will be along shortly, Master Omid.”

Every time someone called him that, it made his skin crawl and he gave the smallest roll of his shoulders to brush it off.

“If I may, Amal, how long have you been here? ” Omid asked, genuinely curious and also looking to make pleasant conversation to drive off the unsettling silence of the palace.

Amal looked over her shoulder for a split second, not skipping any steps as she gave a plain answer. “Quite a few years now, I stopped keeping track.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Omid said, growing concern metered by a resigned lack of surprise.

“It is a thing. It hardly matters if it is good or bad.” Amal said, not looking back this time.

Omid nodded, biting his tongue at first. “I see. You know, you can trust me Amal. I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“I have heard similar things before, Master Omid.” She said, tone just slightly chilled as the air here. “It has yet to be true.”

“I am sorry to hear that, hopefully I can fix that in time...along with some other things.” Omid realized the implications of such an undertaking would likely require a good amount of time, and still didn’t know if he would indeed be here for such a time.

A short time later through a number of twists and turns, and Amal led Omid past a number of the guards by a small unassuming door to a tunnel that exited out to the stables. Omid cursed the lack of a hole in security in his head, lamenting that he would have to find another easier way in and out of the palace. Though he knew nothing of what life up here on the moon was like, if this were the realm of Kirzallans he doubted they would outright war with one another. Subtler methods of conflict seemed far more their style, causing the smallest grimace as he realized he would have to think as they did.

Riz had clearly been waiting on them, leaning against a pillar just a short ways from the door, pushing off of it and into a bow. “Master Omid, you grace me with your presence.”

There was no hint of sarcasm there, which somehow made Omid grimace harder than if there had been. “Really, you can all just call me Omid.”

“I would not want to cause any offense, Master Omid.” Riz said as he rose from his bow, still keeping his eyes down.

Omid tilted his head, glancing over his shoulder at Amal’s silent exit back through a stone door in the side of a stone wall that would likely go unnoticed at first glance. “Do you mean to me, or Sareen?”

The blue eyed young man looked down and away, hobbling over to the wall that held countless supplies for taking care of camels. “I was told you are here to see to it I improve? With the small army of camels I must now look out for on my own?”

“Well...yes. In my defense the camels were a gift! From Sareen!” Omid said with an uneasy laugh.

Riz’s eyes went wide in astonishment and his posture straightened out. “Of course, Master Omid! I did not mean to complain about-”

“It’s fine!” Omid held his hands up. “Dissenting ideas are fine!”

He reached out a hand to pat him on the shoulder, only for Riz to recoil with fear in his eyes.

“I swear it! Technically all I did was give her...a probably magical flower!” Omid said with a reassuring smile.

Riz’s eyes darted to Omid’s for a split second, looking unsure before keeping his eyes down once more. “Should I call you Prince Omid then?”

“NO! No, that’s...no.” Omid tried his best to laugh it off, to minimal success. “Nothing like that!”

“What...is it like, Master Omid?” Riz asked, curiosity mixing with the smallest amount of fear shining through in his blue eyes.

Omid pursed his lips, brows furrowing. “So it seems you’ve been having some troubles keeping the stables lately? Injured leg? Anything else that’s causing problems? Propper feed? Good grooming? Salt licks...salty enough?”

Riz hobbled over to a large wooden bin filled with hay. “We had plenty of feed for one camel, I shall need to request an increased supply. More work for the farmers…”

“There’s...a farm here?” Omid asked, wondering how big this place could actually be to include some manner of farm.

Riz looked away, hiding a frown as he cleared his throat. “We do have to eat somehow, Master Omid.”

“Until recently, I wasn’t aware that there was actually anyone on the moons.” Omid sighed, desperate to set a better tone. “Then I was coming to terms with the fact that Kirzallans inhabited the moons. I had no idea there were humans up there...here, rather.”

“The farms here are quite different than you are likely used to, Master Omid.” Riz set about using a pitchfork to place a generous helping of hay into a small cart

As soon as the stable hand had filled the cart, Omid took the cart from him and stated wheeling it over to the camel stalls while ignoring the fact he was in only a robe and slippers. “It’s the least I can do.”

“You are...too kind, Master-”

“If you really want to show your thanks, don’t call me that. Omid works fine.” He insisted while wheeling the simple cart over the white sand of the ground, thankfully not nearly as loosely packed as out in the middle of a sand sea.

Riz limped after Omid, looking over his shoulders all around. Trying to gain some sort of confirmation that they were actually alone. “The Princess wouldn’t care for that, Omid.”

“And will you tell her?” Omid stopped at a feeding station, already drawing the attention of the camels making their way over to him.

Riz shook his head, still looking around with a frown as he ran both hands through dark brown curls before giving a heavy exhale. “I’m trusting you because I would like to, and because I have little choice.”

“Good, I could also use someone to trust.” Omid said while hefting some hay into the feeding station. The camels weren’t waiting and he was able to scoop only one pitchfork of hay into the trough before the camels decided the cart would do just fine. He shrugged and stepped back from the growing congregation all eager for food after a long trek.

“If I may, Omid, what did you have planned for improving the operations around here?” Riz asked, petting at Sareen’s camel as it ate.

Omid shimmied out of the camel crowd with a bit of effort and reassuring words to the camels. “Well, how would you like some additional help in caring for the camels?”

Riz looked at Omid, eyebrow raised. “From you? As you apprentice with Princess Sareeen?”

“No, but even better! I know just the man for the job!” Omid said with a broad smile.

The stablehand’s eyebrow remained cocked as he looked over his shoulder to that blue half orb in the sky, then back to Omid. “I believe anyone on Kir would be unable to make the journey to any duties here.”

“It is very fortunate that he arrived here with me! Technically...” Omid cleared his throat at that last very important word, avoiding the stablehand’s questioning gaze.

Riz leaned against Sareen’s camel, taking the weight off of his bad leg as he gave a pleading look to Omid. “I can still perform my duties, I would just appreciate the help. I’m the only one around here with any real idea how to care for camels. I was chasing down some escaped camels when I...well nevermind.”

As a matter of fact, Omid minded greatly and voiced his curiosity as such. “I had been wondering how others got here.”

“The story is much the same for all of us. Same for you I would imagine.” He said while picking a clump of dirt out of the camel’s fur. “Out in the wilderness, alone or with others. Meet a strange woman. If she likes you, you’re dragged back here against your will. Only ever one though. If you happen to be with anyone else, well they’re either slain or they’re glassed.”

Omid looked for a distraction, and instead found only Masel. He ran his hand along his side, patting him as he fed while desperately avoiding eye contact. “I see. Now when you say against your will...how literal is the dragging?”

Riz squinted slightly before limping over to a large fountain flowing with a gentle stream of crystal clear water. The fountain, like most everything else here made of stone, was an exercise in elegance through minimalism. Only the most tasteful and subdued carvings adorned anything here. The stablehand splashed some water on his face. “I did not go alone after those camels. My brother went with me. And when we met the woman who had found our camels, my brother was...less willing to negotiate than I. After begging her to spare me, I was dragged back here. To care for her camel. And now I care for many camels.”

When he thought about it, really Omid had no choice but to go along with Sareen. He had been dragged here yes, but by his own will. Omid was certain there was an important distinction, and didn’t need to think about it for now. He spoke as he made his way over to the fountain. “There must always be a hope for something more. Surely you hope to one day go home?”

“That dream was ground into a fine powder long ago.” Riz stated while looking Omid in the eye. No anger, only resignation.

Omid winced, rubbing at his arm and slumping his shoulders. “I am sorry. If I can ever see to it that you and the others return home, I will do so.”

“It’s a nice sentiment.” Riz said with a weak smile. “But I shall not wait on it. Now, did you have any advice for me on camel care aside from hoping to find me some help?”

Omid bit his lip, thinking for a moment before he remembered something. “Grind up the date pits, feed it to them as a snack. They will appreciate it.”

“I will.” Riz said with a smile as he started limping his way back over to the covered stables. “If there is nothing else, I need to prepare to deal with far more camel dung than I am used to.”

“Right, er...sorry about that.” Omid rubbed at the back of his neck, slowly walking off towards the inconspicuous side entrance. “I will work on finding you that help.”

He stopped in his tracks, sighing as a question weighed on him. “I take it Sareen will not heal that leg for you?”

Riz didn’t stop as he walked along. “Not likely. If I’m lucky I survive long enough for it to heal.”

The man was almost jovial, catching Omid off guard. He said nothing more and entered the tunnel into the palace. Making his way through it he nodded to the guards before stopping. He needed to find Sareen, but had no idea where she was.

“Er...hello?” Omid asked the guards, deciding to figure out if they could speak.

One of the guards faced Omid, face unchanging but a bit of up close inspection revealed that those glowing orbs for eyes may have had a glass component to them. There was a grinding noise with every movement it made, even the small adjustment of its head being audible to Omid.

“Right. Can you speak?” He asked.

The guard kept staring at Omid, reminding him of an abstract statue meant only to suggest it was human.

“Alright, where may I find Sareen?” He found himself bracing after every sentence as though he had just met Sareen.

It stared for a second, then turned on the spot and started walking down the hallway. Omid looked to the other guard for a moment, finding it unmoving and guessed at following the first guard at a brisk pace. As it walked, its heavy footsteps echoed through the hallways. Despite walking for a good few minutes through the palace, Omid never saw another soul. He imagined that most here avoided the guards if at all possible. The sound of hurried footsteps shortly followed by a closing door just up ahead was as much confirmation as he needed for now.

Whatever doors weren’t closed, Omid couldn’t help but peeking in as they passed. Most of the ones visible appeared to be decorative rather than functional. All pleasant and just shy of cozy, adorned with curiosities of every size. Though he kept glancing back to the guard to not get lost and keep up, he couldn’t help but look into every room he could. For anything useful, for anything important, for anything amusing.

Sareen smiling just beyond the threshold of one of them made him leap back until he was slumped against the hallway wall as his eyes bulged out. Which of course caused Sareen to burst out laughing while approaching him and offering a hand.

“Did you see something surprising?” She asked with a toothy smile, her canines looking especially fierce.”

Omid looked at her offered hand, realized he was bearing the largest perturbed frown, and took her hand. “Truly breathtaking.” He muttered.

“Oh? I’m breathtaking now?” She raised an eyebrow as she pulled him to her feet.

Omid nodded, still frowning. “Quite. And after recovering it, I had a question.”

“As did I.” She said finally, releasing his hand to take a step back, look him over, and frown. “Where are your clothes?”

Omid looked down, having to remember that this incredibly comfortable robe may not have technically qualified as clothes. But he would be damned if it wasn’t comfortable. “Old ones were dirty, new ones are not finished yet? I imagine if they are complex they may take some time.”

“I shall have to speak to my seamstresses, there will be a party in several days and you must be presentable.” She frowned as she folded her arms, and Omid worried for the safety of the seamstresses.

“I am sure they are doing their best, but let’s go back to the party?” Omid asked, surprised yet not at all surprised that Sareen was springing something on him again.

Sareen smiled, walking over to a tapestry hanging on one wall of the room. Though it was not a large room, the tapestry still took up almost the entire wall leaving only a few shelves of curiosities on other walls as the only other features. The tapestry itself reminded Omid of old historical illustrations speaking of the gods and other old beings of great power. This one had a definite elemental theme to it, and looked to be largely metaphorical in nature.

“One of the few things my kind and our...kin can agree on is that an end to your world is bad for all of us. What you call ‘The Old Men’ are once again seeking to find a story that will end the world. So all who seek to prevent that will work against it. Again. Alliances shall be solidified and plans set into motion. And as the one who delivered the message, it falls to me to host that gathering.” Sareen said as she looked over the tapestry.Omid had many questions, yet again. And feared the answers, yet again. “Are they actually capable of ending the world?”

She nodded, far too casually for comfort. “Most likely. When they have a good story on their lips, many things are possible.”

“And...how long would we have to stop that?” Omid asked, joining Sareen at her side while looking at the careful weaving of the tapestry. It suddenly occurred to him that he should have told Aiz about this, though as he bit his tongue he assured himself he had so very much on his mind already.

Sareen sighed. “Only about a hundred years. Hence the urgency”

Omid wanted to laugh, but noted the complete lack of any hint of a joking demeanor or expression. “I see. No time to delay then. And we will need help.”

The Kirzallan looked at him, eyebrow raised.

“Your stablehand is in need of assistance. He’s got quite a few more camels than he can effectively take care of right now. And I would hate to divide my time between helping and learning magic.” Omid said, hoping this plan would work.

Sareens arms remained crossed. “And you have a solution to this?”

“I do!” He smiled. “Remember Taljir? He was wonderful with camels and all manner of beasts! He makes a fine glass figure, but why not have him doing more for you?”

She stepped a bit closer, uncrossing her arms as she searched Omid’s eyes. “After another lesson, it should be clear if you will be a truly worthy apprentice or not. Such an apprentice would of course need to focus his time on magic and could designate a new servant to join the ranks.”

Omid leaned closer to her, smile unwavering. “You have seen fit to bring me this far, I do not intend to stop and disappoint now.”

Sareen’s slight frown as she searched his eyes reversed into a smile. “And you would be ready to start right away?”

“In this bathrobe and slippers, yes. They are quite comfortable.” Dark eyes looked back into her Indigo, not yielding even a bit.

She laughed once more, taking a step back and waving for him as she walked to the exit of the room. “Time for another test then.”