Finding out who your companion was to be the night before setting out on a scouting mission into The Great Desert for possibly a week was something of a disorientating experience.

Omid believed the disorientation was part of the point. That the Cerulean Eagle Caravan company broke out the alcohol during the pre-scouting celebrations did nothing to disprove this belief. As he watched several young men and women overindulging while proudly boasting of the things they would find on the mission, he became very certain that the wine was almost certainly the first test.

Glancing around the tent to see a few of the older caravan leaders hiding looks of careful observation between bright smiles and the occasional laughter gave him pause.

He turned to his all too recently assigned companion after he caught the watchful eye of the caravan’s lead mage. “Make that the last cup you have tonight, we’re being tested.”

Taljir raised an eyebrow and lowered his cup from his lips. “You’re serious? Already?” He said with a frown as he dared to glance around the large tent.

Omid gave a curt nod, lowering his own cup to the matt the two sat at. “Do you know me to joke about such things?”

“Until about an hour ago, I didn’t know you as anything more than that fellow who spent most of his nights reading.” Taljir caught the eye of an elder, seeing his serious look shift into a smile in the blink of an eye. He quickly smiled in response and turned back to Omid. “Maybe not the adventurous sort, but hey I’ve read some quite humorous books!”

“Quite the contrary, think of it as a bit of research before the adventure.” Omid said before quickly bringing his cup to his lips to finish off the last sip of his wine.

Taljir couldn’t help but notice the thinly built young man had so far shown no signs of intoxication while he himself being quite a bit more well built was at least feeling a bit warmer now after they  both had just as much to drink. He finished his own cup of wine while gaining a slight bit of respect for his partner to balance out the loss of respect for being too boring.

“Nah, what fun is a grand adventure if you already know all the fun parts?” He asked as he reclined a bit to stare at the roof of the tent with a wild glint in his green eyes.

Omid sighed just loud enough for his new companion to hear over the background noise of the other scouts to be. “So, you know how to deal with a rukh if we run into one? The very things this company is named after?”

“Hah! Easy, just gotta hit them in the eye!” Taljir proudly proclaimed while roughly setting down his now empty cup.

“So, you’re a good enough archer to hit a giant bird in flight? Presumably while riding a camel at full canter while we flee for our lives?” Omid’s brows raised and his arms crossed, doubtful that he had found someone whose legend could outshine Isha herself. Though a small part of him desperately hoped that against all odds he could be so lucky to have such a fellow on a trek through the Great Desert.

Taljir’s ever so slight fidget and less subtle scratching at the back of his shortly cropped hair as Omid spoke undermined the bravado that followed. “Well of course! And it's not just any camel I’ll be riding, it's Nazer! Best camel that ever was! What am I supposed to do, just abandon him to an overgrown bird?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.” Omid said with a slight grin as he watched Taljir fidget with added indignation. “You let the rukh go for the nice meaty camel and be satisfied with that, instead of also going for the small annoying human that was throwing pointy sticks at it.”

“Well, that’s just foolish.” It was Taljir’s turn to cross his arms, though this time in indignation. “A perfectly good camel, and Nazer at that? I’ll forgive you for even suggesting that, but I really should go smooth things over with Nazer. Wouldn’t want him mad at you through the whole trek.”

The young man stood, straightening his long burnt orange tunic with one hand as the other retrieved his wine cup. He cast a final look of resentment to Omid that barely managed to hide concern as he made his way through the lightly crowded gathering, carefully avoiding other new scouts and low hanging lanterns casting an amber glow upon them all until he disappeared through the flaps of the tent.

Omid briefly considered whether prayers to Nazan would go unanswered from failing to rise to the challenge of an overly confident scouting companion, or if this was a truly worthy peril the god of travellers may protect against. He resolved to pray anyway, if not for himself then for the poor fool he would be going on this trek with. A moment of silent focus as he closed his dark eyes, ran a hand over his hair while fixing a few stray long braids, and took a deep breath brought him back to the present. At which point he got the distinct feeling that he was no longer alone at the mat.

His eyes quickly opened and were greeted with the sight of the caravan’s lead mage sitting across from him, his light brown eyes almost looking like a striking gold in the amber glow of nearby lanterns. The older man gave a smile from behind a well groomed yet graying beard and hoisted up a bottle of wine.

“Another drink to celebrate the inevitable riches you will find on your journey, Omid?” The finely dressed mage asked politely.

Before he responded, Omid couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been lost in thought to not notice the tall bald mage in opulent flowing robes of vibrant purples and deep blues taking a seat across from him.  “I prefer to wait until I have actually found something to celebrate. And starting the trek with a clear mind would better my chances at that.” He declined with an equally polite smile and short nod.

The mage’s eyebrows raised, nodding in return as he lowered the wine bottle back down to the mat. “A wise choice. So many believe that they shall find their glory on their first scouting mission. What do you believe you will find?” He asked with eyes carefully focused on Omid.

“Would you prefer my answer be what I hope to find, or what I believe I may find?” Omid was certain he was still being tested, warranting a measure of caution.

His caution was met with an amused smile from the old mage. “Both.”

Omid looked off for a moment as he thought of his response. He had already put a good deal of consideration into this very topic, but the possible presence of a test necessitated a careful reply. He turned his eyes back to the elder mage, still smiling politely but expectantly.

“I believe I may find sand strider tracks that may yet lead to an oasis. Perhaps I find the striders themselves there or merely their nests. Maybe some large rocks that would make for a good shelter for the caravan. Or nothing at all, and I can tell the caravan that nothing of value lay in a certain direction.” He counted off the likely things he would find matter of factly. A small frown crept onto his lips as he moved onto what it was that he desired to find. “I hope to find...something interesting. Preferably something that doesn’t kill me.”

The elder gave a slight laugh. “Truly a shame that journeys into the desert are like women.”

Omid’s brow furrowed while he unconsciously nodded along. The confusion in his eyes was apparent as he tried to puzzle out what the old mage meant. An act that elicited a heartier laugh from the old man.

“The most interesting ones are also the most dangerous!” He said with another laugh, before abruptly stopping to stroke at his beard and stare off at the roof of the tent. “Though I suppose somewhere there is a lady mage telling a prospective apprentice that the most interesting men are also the most dangerous ones…” 

He idly looked around the room as though he expected to find just such an example, slightly lost in thought as Omid’s shock was wearing off and turning to that of realization at what the old man had said. Even then, it took him several moments before his voice caught up to his mind and he was able to respond.

“I...wait what?” Omid’s fumbling only technically counted as a response, admittedly.

The elder, having surveyed the room and failed to find his female counterpart, nonetheless concluded that such a thing certainly existed still before finally addressing the confused young man. “Let this be your first lesson.” The mage stated with full seriousness. “Always expect the unexpected.”

Omid’s lips moved to quickly respond before his mind stopped him. Instead, his lips pursed as he took a long inhale before exhaling slowly while locking eyes with the old man. “How much of this are you making up as you go?”

The young man’s question surprised the elder. “Most of it.” He plainly admitted with a slight grin. “I have found being a mage requires such a state of mind. With a healthy amount of knowledge beforehand to know what you can get away with.” The smile that permeated his words told Omid that, though surprising, the question had been an appropriate one.

“And these are skills I would need, as your apprentice?” Omid tried to contain his excitement as he circled back for a confirmation, though some still shone through on his face as he dared to hope that this was not a cruel joke by the old man.

“Observant and actually capable of excitement, both good traits.” The elder said as he shattered Omid’s illusions of masking his emotions in passing. 

“Whatever you find on that scouting mission will be largely down to luck. You seem to have figured that much out for yourself already, and haven’t deluded yourself otherwise.” The mage continued, now far more serious as Omid’s attention was fully held. “Fate would have our entire life’s story written from before the day we are born. Nothing could be more boring to me. A wise man, a mage for example, would say that only the past is written. Whatever fate may try to give to you, show me that even without magic you can make the most of it.” He said with a too wide grin.

Omid focused and though for a moment, his eyes cast downward and to the side as he carefully considered the mage’s words. “And, if I do indeed find nothing but sand?”

The mage lightly scoffed and gave a short dismissive flick. “Long ago I went on my first scouting mission. I didn’t see so much as a single scorpion. When it came time for me to finally turn back after having found nothing, I at first thought myself a failure. As I hung my head in shame and rode my camel I thought of my uneventful trek, and realized how odd it was that I had truly seen nothing at all. Not a single track of a single beast. And I had not felt the wind once on the entire trek. As I looked down to the sands having taken the same route back, I didn’t even see our camel’s tracks from maybe an hour before.”

“What...caused that?” Omid leaned forward, only vaguely aware that his mouth hung open in shock.

“Mmm, not sure.” With a quick shrug, all seriousness was gone from the mage as quickly as it had arrived. “After all these years, I’ve got my theories as to who I stumbled into out there. Impossible to know without finding that particular stretch of land again, but then I wouldn’t want to. As my companion and I told the caravan when we returned only by the grace of our lapis lazuli compass, we were thoroughly unwelcome in that place. In fact, what later research would tell me is that only by exceptional politeness were we shooed away so very kindly.” He said as he touched his hand to his beard, once again lost in thought.

“So, then it was someone instead of something that was the cause of such a phenomenon?” Omid asked, mind running wild at the possibilities.

“There are a number of entities that it could have been, all powerful. Let no one tell you the desert belongs to anyone but them. Well, them and the entities that would not have asked so nicely. And yes, murder does count as not asking nicely. Really it's not even asking at all. It’s just murder.” The mage nodded intently to Omid, who could only nod back quickly to agree.

“Knowledge is good then, even if it's boring?” Omid asked, doing his best to understand what he believed to be an impromptu lesson and thanking his decision from earlier to make that his last cup of wine.

The large grin returned to the mage’s face. “To take something simple, and shape it into something greater is power. As the gods first shaped our world from chaos, so too may we shape the elements.” 

The mage reached out to one of the hanging lanterns, and began to chant in a voice that was all at once his own yet not. It carried a low echo that at first failed to draw any attention. As the flame lept from the lantern into his hand, a few nearby conversations instantly died in favor of focusing on the small display. The mage held the small ball of flame gently in his left hand, never letting it touch his skin. With his right hand, he reached into a pouch at his belt, withdrawing a handful of sand. His chant grew more complex, and impossibly seemed to have two separate and distinct echoes. Opening his right hand, the sand drifted through the air to meet the flame in his left. Together they spun and the sands glowed bright and formed into a disk. His voice changed once more, one echo replaced with a new one as he lifted the floating disk up as he leaned his head downward. He exhaled deeply onto the disk, the echoes still impossibly continuing until the disk ceased to glow.

All at once, the echoes stopped and the disk dropped to his hand with a light plop. A sound that should have been drowned out by the chatter of the crowd, but said crowd had gone silent and even forgone breathing in favor of watching. The mage smiled once more and held out the small glass disk to Omid, who carefully reached out to take it and found it surprisingly cool to the touch for freshly formed glass.

“Well, now you all have a good reminder of why we never encounter any sandstorms so long as I am on guard.” He said, his smile growing ever so slightly satisfied as the crowd gave a cheer before returning to their previous conversations.

Omid was too busy looking over the small glass disk, admiring its subtle lines and craftsmanship to notice much of anything else. He finally looked up to the smiling old man. “Thank you, sir. And I shall do my best to not disappoint on my trek….oh...oh goodness I must apologize I...I did not get your name, sir.” The young man realized with increasing concern and a worried look.

“Yes, that’s true.” The old man said, smile unwavering.

Omid blinked, breaking eye contact as he tried to figure out if this was yet another test and if so what its nature was. He didn’t have to mentally flail about for long before he heard the old man’s laugh. It caught his attention, with the poor lad looking thoroughly lost and the old man thoroughly amused. Just as abruptly as he had burst out laughing, he stopped and his face was one of stone.

“A final lesson for the night. Names are power, be careful when giving power. However, you may call me Aiz.” His smile returned again as he stood and straightened his robes. “You’ll all be getting your lapis lazuli compasses from me before you set off in the morning, so yes we will meet again. Until then, sleep well, and have interesting dreams. It's the one place that interesting doesn’t mean dangerous…unless you are somewhere you can roll off of, and you toss and turn in your sleep from those interesting dreams and you fall.”

Once again, he was lost in deep thought as he looked to the carpet of the tent. “Let your true final lesson of the night be that you never stop learning lessons no matter how old you get. And also to sleep on ground level-...no, no that wouldn’t work...scorpions...that the finest beds should have boards on the sides of them to prevent you from rolling off in your sleep!” He said with great triumph and a snap of his fingers. “Excuse me, I must draw up the designs for the carpenters.”

Still left contemplating everything that had just happened, Omid remained just aware enough to note that as distracted as Aiz was as he walked to the flaps of the tent he moved notably silent. He wondered whether this was the work of magic, or if it was simply practiced stealth. That the old man may have practiced it for no other reason than startling anyone unsuspecting for his own amusement gave credence to the idea that it could of course be both. His dark complexion and even darker dyed clothes had Omid wondering just how easily he could vanish in the night if he wanted to.

Omid quickly surveyed the tent, and after having confirmed that no one else was appearing next to him for now decided that it was indeed time to call it a night and get some rest for the long day tomorrow. He stood and shook his head. No, it would be a long day that would only be the start of a long trek. Nearly bumping into a hanging lantern as he walked to the door gave him the stray thought that perhaps he and Taljir were chosen to be companions as to have the tallest out of the prospective scouts together.

On his way out of the tent, as he set down his wine cup at a table near the exit, he saw one of the scouting pairs still indulging in the provided wine. He noticed both the young women seemed to be on the shorter side and his neutral expression fell into a frown. His eyes darted around the tent, going wide before a small wave of relief washed over him at seeing several pairs of mixed heights. 

After quickly exiting the tent so as to not draw even further attention to himself, Omid was thankful for the cooler night air affording him clearer thoughts than the stuffier tent. Though he did adjust his light blue tunic slightly as he went in an attempt at a bit more protection from the cool desert nights. A few deep breaths as he walked through the arrangement of tents that had already put their lights out for the night was all he needed to stop thinking about silly things like whatever the selection process was for who was going on the trek together.

He looked to the moons, casting a pale light on the camp to allow him to find his way back to his own small tent. Against a canvas of countless stars, it gave him that additional measure of comfort to let his mind rest. To Omid, they were a welcome constant that held just enough mystery. He gave a slight chuckle as he walked past the makeshift pens for the herd of sand striders, remembering how as a child he wondered what strange lands lay on the moons. 

Finally reaching his own one man tent, he allowed himself a wild thought. Perhaps with magic he may one day know the answer to the musings of his younger self? His older self that told him it was likely just sand and rock also gave the reminder that it was not a done deal yet. It was all the more reason to sleep, and in doing so find it all the more appropriate to dream.