That morning, a beautiful thing happened. A blessing from the gods themselves. A sign that against a sea of ills, agony, and wails there were still islands of hope to be found in a world slowly but surely slipping out of the hands of mankind as they are chased to the very edges of the earth and all sanity. Against all the world that would consume them in a perfect fire, drown them in the darkest depths of the ocean, crush them between the fiercest mountains, and whip flesh from bone in the most unforgiving storms stood that beautiful nectar to give sanity back to those from whom it had long ago been drained. 

That hallowed black blood to fill any wretched husk and make them a person once more capable of standing on their own two feet and declaring triumphantly before the light of all time that I am alive. I can think. And I shall forge a reminder to all who would doubt that with a smile. 

The coffee was ready to be served, and Omid bore a smile that none could extinguish as he vowed today he would forge that reminder.

He made a grand show of pouring it from kettle to cup, drawing each further from one another and carefully stopping the stream of dark liquid when the cup was close to filled until the last drops settled in. The morning air was still, and let the powerful aroma linger for a while as Omid held the cup aloft in both hands to make another showing gesture of waving it around in a circle in front of a confused Sareen sitting perfectly still and watching the whole show. Indigo eyes followed the cup and she gave a tentative sniff, causing her eyes to grow as large as the saucer the cup sat upon. She swayed in tune with the circling cup of dark liquid, leaning forward as Omid set it down on the makeshift table he had made from an overturned gameboard looted from the thieves. Sareen’s hands went for the cup as soon as Omid’s were off of it, but a single finger held up implored her to wait as she slunk back into her seat as she sat watching Omid repeat his overly showy display of pouring a cup for himself. She was even leaning in once more as he circled the cup under his own nose and took a long inhale of the exquisite aroma.

Omid had missed that aroma so, so much. His eyes gently shut as he took a moment to focus in on that wonderful scent and nothing else. Not sitting in what may very well be the center of The Great Desert. Not the last chill of that desert’s morning air. Not the growing heat of the suns at his back. Not the woman who still may kill him sitting across from him. Not the dangers he would be facing today. Only that life giving aroma that was going to see him through all of it. 

His eyes opened to see the beautiful liquid sitting in a medium quality cup completely unworthy of holding it, just before setting it down and looking across to a now very unsure looking Sareen. Omid beamed a toothy smile, raising his cup and saucer and giving an insistent nod to Sareen. Her brows thoroughly pushed together and the smallest of frowns on her lips, her eyes darted down to the cup and back to Omid. After a moment’s consideration sitting there with crossed legs, she picked up the cup and saucer with perfect grace and carefully looked it over with narrowing eyes.

“Drink,” Omid insisted with a smile. “and may we face all that the day may hold with vigor!”

He brought the cup to his lips, taking a customary small first sip despite all inner voices telling him to gulp it down. His eyes were closed as the scent hit his nose first, and he thought of how real this was. No desert flower of warning, just pure coffee that would never lie to him. The taste came next as the hot liquid reached his tongue. Though he lacked the time and equipment to brew a proper coffee, it was still the most beautiful thing he had experienced in all too long. That bitter initial taste to grab one’s attention and all the subtle flavors that followed. Though they were not treated with the care they deserved from the rushed and improper preparation, Omid took the moment to savor each and every one of them. It was no variety he was familiar with, and in this moment he shut out the rest of the world to taste it all as though his life depended on it. He swallowed it and his eyes opened once more as it warmed him to his very core, the tiniest tear at the corner of his dark eyes as he bore a smile to Sareen.

Who was looking on with mouth slightly agape, eyes rapidly darting between Omid and the liquid he insisted she drink that brought him to tears while she could not. She reluctantly brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip as her eyes were fixed on Omid’s.

“Hmm, interesting flavor.” She noted, looking down to the cup.

“It can be something of an acquired taste, there is some sugar if you would like it sweetened?” Omid said, offering her the small metal box containing the sugar holding a spoon for each of them.

Though there wasn’t much, Sareen scooped up half of it to add it to her drink and left the rest. Omid followed suit, adding just a bit of sugar as he liked. Just enough to give it some sweetness, with all the flavors intact after he had first sampled it. It was a small ritual he had whenever he drank coffee. Completely meaningless to anyone but him, and thus of utmost importance to him.

Sareen sipped at her sweetened brew, eyeing it with apprehension as she drank before finally giving the smallest of nods. “Hm, not bad.” 

She did not partake in the food portion of breakfast, though she did sip her coffee extra slow as Omid ate a simple yet larger than usual breakfast. This day was to be possibly the most important of Omid’s life, despite knowing all too little about it. Sareen was her usual reticent self in regards to any details that could possibly keep Omid alive longer. The absolute most he was able to get out of her was a mischievous smile, no doubt brought on by her imagination running wild at all the bad things that could happen to him.

Getting through this thought, and his mind running wild at what he might face today, was made all the easier thanks to coffee. Omid drowned out any troublesome thought with another sip, trading the savoring of flavor for the small comfort of an energizing liquid that brought happiness.

That he was likely to never taste again.

Several hours later, Omid dared to dwell on that thought and took a deep inhale as he held onto the memory of the morning’s coffee. A simple pleasure, but close enough for the memories to be fresh. All adding up to something he could comfort himself with as he and Sareen stared down their destination. It was finally in view from the tops of their camels.

There at the foot of the mountains, even from this far back, movement was visible among the rocks and ground starting to take more dramatic slopes upward. There were exotic tents set up, designs Omid did not recognize, and indistinct figures moving between them. Most concerning though, was the fact that even this far back Omid could pick out several figures with distinct features. The coffee was starting to kick in, and thoughts were becoming clearer if somewhat rushed. And they absolutely appeared to be quite large, though seemingly unmoving. He looked down to the rocky landscape below Masel, then back up to the distant figure to try and gauge the distance. Just as he was figuring out it was quite far indeed he saw the figure move, just enough to dispel any hope of it being a statue of some sort.

“Of course.” Omid said with a heavy sigh before straightening himself up at the next breath. “Well, are we actually going to be dealing with those rather large fellows or am I worrying for nothing?”

Sareen looked out at the distant congregation for several moments, turning to Omid so that he could see her eyes and the smile that shone upon those indigo pools even as her mouth was covered by her scarf.

“Of course my worries are well founded. I should know this, Omid. It’s so obvious!” He said, throwing a hand up in the air as his own smile reached his eyes, though it was one of obvious pain and exhaustion. “What else would it be? It wouldn’t be the meeting of happy fun rabbits who sing songs abou- Sorry, I’m good!”

Sareen’s smile turned to one of consternation as Omid rapidly shifted from defeated anguish to...enthusiasm? “There is no meeting of singing rabbits, though should we survive this it is within the realm of reason that we may eventually be called upon to deliver a message to...some rather large birds…” she said as she looked off, mulling over her own assessment of possibilities.

“Those birds will probably want to devour me alive, but that is a problem for another day. Lead onward.” Omid said, feeling the full energizing effects of the coffee kicking in and hopefully holding him through the day as he grit his teeth and smiled while Sareen ushered her camel onward and Omid followed with his train of camels.

The increased focus the coffee brought had already shown a downside, as Omid found it hard not to start growing ever more anxious the closer the camels brought them to the small tent city. From their starting point at the horizon, he was able to lie to himself for a while that the large figures would be the extent of all things supernatural. That somehow the gods would smile upon him and all others there would be perfectly normal humans. As they drew nearer, and he was unable to help but squint harder and harder at the congregation rather than stare off into the desert, he was able to pick out more distinct forms.

Omid grit his teeth as he recognized a few monsters that appeared to be serving as something akin to guard dogs or mounts. Their owners were far more concerning. From back at the horizon with only the large figures visible, Omid had prepared himself for the presence of at least some Izdoroth. He was completely unprepared for most of the crowd to be Izdoroth of various sorts. Omid had to force himself to stop gritting his teeth so hard and gripping Masel’s reins so hard, taking a deep breath as his eyes darted about from tent to tent. They were now close enough that Omid could make it all out clear enough. A vast assembly of magical beings that defied any sort of sense and made Sareen and her ilk seem positively human in comparison. Even the Milizmiq, masters of life or death, followed the normal rules of magic.

Which of course caused Omid to lose himself for a moment and give a laugh, just loud enough to catch Sareen’s attention as she looked over her shoulder.

“Something the matter?” She asked.

“Many things, but the newest is that I’m walking into the shadows of even more things unfathomably monumental.” He wasn’t looking at her when he spoke, only starting off at the tent city tucked away at the foot of the mountain, the suns having just passed their zenith to frame the whole scene for him high above it all.

She brought the small caravan to a stop as she looked over her shoulder to Omid, and in Omid’s somewhat manic state of mind it almost appeared as though she was showing a bit of sympathy in her eyes. “Even the largest beast will fall if you know the right place to stick a knife. No scales, fur, feathers, or hide will be enough to make anything or anyone forget that the eyes will always be a weakness.”

Omid thought it over, nodding along and making careful note of how technically this was Sareen revealing a weakness to him. He was unsure of how to process this, nor what to do with it once it was processed. Which meant pushing it to the back of his mind for later. A mental location that was getting exceedingly crowded, but as long as he was quick to open the door and hastily shove some new troubling thought in there the current occupants had little time to scream.

“I appreciate the advice.” Omid finally said as Sareen conjured up the stone stables that had grown quite large with the many camels they had acquired. He was only flinching slightly every time the stone structure burst forth from the ground now, though this time he convinced himself it was because the rocky landscape made for a more ostentatious entrance than emerging from sand. 

Omid looked over to the tent city, quickly looking away from what looked to be a small group of Woodstalkers conversing with several Gloom Wraiths as soon as he made eye contact with one. “I assume this is the safest distance?” He gestured to the notable distance Sareen had set out between their stables and the gathering after he had dismounted and begun leading the camels to shelter.

“Hmmm something like that.” Sareen was currently more focused on retrieving her flower in a jar, carefully removing it from her camel’s saddle and slowly inspecting it in her hands before using a rope to fashion it into a sling of sorts holding it to her back.

“Right, something like safe.” Omid dared another glance over to where he had been looking, finding one of the Woodstalkers had taken to staring back at him. Half again as tall as Omid, in the general shape of a thin man with bark for skin and a cluster of roots in place of hands and feet. Even from this distance the two glowing green orbs, sitting on what could generously be called a face, that were its eyes stared right through Omid. 

“That is...probably close enough to safe.” He said as he looked back to Sareen, seemingly happy with her trophy strapped to her back as she approached him and lowered her scarf. 

“Keep doing what you’ve been doing and you should be fine.” She said as though it were so very obvious, and turned to start walking towards the tent city.

Omid made a foolish mistake and looked back to the Woodstalker, finding that one of the Gloom Wraiths had also stopped conversing to turn its attention to Omid. It was a different sort of disturbing to see something just as tall as the Woodstalker but built like a strongman wearing robes that once would have been resplendent but now they were mere worn and rotted remains. Minus a jaw, but plus a set of curving horns, and with skin like a moonlit sea with eyes like shining stars to match. Now tilting its head and pointing a too long finger tipped with a claw to Omid.

“I don’t suppose I’m the only human here,” Omid quickly snapped his head over to Sareen as a bead of sweat ran down his temple and his eyes grew wide. “Wait no, there’s one!”

A smile quickly overtook his face as he pulled down his scarf past his nose. There among the crowd was a young man of bronze skin and sky blue eyes walking with his head held high and clad in the finest clothes, paying no attention to any of the supernatural beings around him and looking as though he knew not even the notion of fear.

Omid frowned. “He is a Zallan like yourself, isn’t he.” He did not ask so much as he stated the fact in resignation.

“Virzallans here as well?” Sareen clutched at the tubular scroll case at her side, eyes narrowed at this new information. She thought aloud to herself “Better for a coalition, worse for the apparent state of matters.”

“A vir-...right, if an air elemental is down here I assume we’re on an especially important courier mission?” Omid pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You are doing a good deal of assuming, and so far you have been quite accurate. Keep it up and you should survive!” Sareen gave a light laugh and continued venturing closer to the tent city, no longer bothering to motion for Omid to join her.

The smallest glance over to the startled group of Woodstalkers and Gloom Wraiths all looking at him had Omid quickly following after Sareen, wondering if following a hyena into a den of lions would be a more expedient course of events.

SylasWrites

It is my solemn promise to engage in as little foodporn as possible. So when I do, I have to make it relevant. That being said, I'm proud of that "speech" at the beginning.