Breakfast consisted of cooked sand strider eggs and yams, with a requisite speech by the wealthy owner of several large sand strider operations in numerous cities around the edge of the great desert. He promised riches and livestock to any who successfully scouted out herds of sand striders. The vibrant yellows and deep blacks of his robes and ornate hat of matching colors served as a reminder that he was more than capable of fulfilling such offers. Some would get lucky enough to take him up on the offer, with the possibility of quickly finding employment in his operations. Everyone else was content to listen politely while enjoying a hearty meal. That it would be the last meal for possibly a week that would not consist of dates and stone bread made them savor it all the more.
To Omid, it was not a bad offer objectively speaking. It would be well paying and steady work, with the occasional trek through The Great Desert. Though his thirst for adventure and sense of wonder might strike him dead if he ever settled, willingly or not, for farm work when being a mage’s apprentice was on the table. A stable if uninteresting life was all well and good but when even the promise of something far greater was presented, it became a terrible curse of a lingering thought.
One step at a time, he thought.
“Hey, Omid. Girls like strider herders right?” Taljir asked as he leaned in closer and spoke in a low voice to Omid while still chowing down on the last of his breakfast.
Omid thought for a moment, only slightly wondering why he was entertaining this question in the first place. “I don’t-”
“Come on, with all that reading you had to have read some romantic poems right?” Green eyes searched for an answer as Taljir bit into a final bit of cooked yam.
“Well I never read much ro-”
“Think about it! Good with animals, what woman doesn’t love that? Hard labor keeping you fit. Wealth to raise a family. Sometimes you go on adventures into the desert protecting those poor sweet striders? It's like being a hero of legend but you’re never too far from your family and you can still care for them! By the gods you’re right, Omid! It's perfect! What lovely young lady could possibly resist?!” He said as he pat the thinner young man on the back a bit too hard.
Omid quickly realized that this was like trying to fight a river, and didn’t bother to hide his heavy sigh and eyes closing shut at the madness of it all. Those same eyes quickly snapped open and narrowed as he had a thought.
“Well, I suppose you could…” Omid put a hand to his chin, lightly stroking his short beard and wishing he had a fuller one for greater effect.
Taljir tilted his head. “I could. But….?” He said as he took the bait.
“But, well that really only fits one type of woman. Why, I’ve read tales of young heroes finding a woman on their adventures who shares their love of adventure. But I suppose if you’re content with settling down in just one place…” Omid did his best to sound solemn and accepting of such an idea while being thankful for having thin lips that were easily hidden by a stray finger still stroking at his beard and pulling double duty of hiding traces of a smile.
“Well. You see obviously….” He made a grand yet vague gesture with his arm and an open hand, only for the hand to close as he bit his lip. “How...common is that? Finding such a girl who wants to go on epic adventures that much?” His eyes narrowed, looking to his new companion for confirmation.
Omid simply gestured over to the group of female scouts all lining up for a final dose of crimson root elixir before setting out on the scouting mission. “They all seem quite devoted. Not going to let something like biology get in the way of a grand adventure into the very heart of the great desert.” Omid was not at all lying. He was simply not bringing up the fact that the Cerulean Eagle Caravan Company was insistent on its female employees taking said elixir regularly while on a desert crossing. That he was not lying at all is what allowed him to return to a solemn face and no longer needed to hide a grin.
Taljir’s brow furrowed, tapping a finger to his own hairless chin as he looked over the group of women. “Damn...well it is not as though I would be settling I would just be…”
He looked to Omid and found his new companion raising a single eyebrow. “I am...keeping my options open.” Taljir said with a too confident nod. “Because I would never settle.”
“Good. We shall try for that life of adventure, but be content with a quiet life of farming should it come down to it.” Omid stood, taking his cleared plate with him as he reassessed the risk.
Encouraging Taljir to try for possibly even more madness? Probably a bad idea. Resigning oneself to a lifetime of boredom when greatness and excitement were within your grasp? Probably a worse idea.
“My uncle raised camels. That’s how I got Nazer.” Taljir said with pride and a smile as he too stood and joined Omid in exiting the tent. “I don’t think he would mind such a life...unless…” He stopped in his tracks, and it was only his audible pause that kept Omid from walking on without him.
Omid turned back to him, raising an eyebrow as he attempted to lead that potentially beneficial thought onward. “Unless he wants to lead a more adventurous life as well. You coul-”
“You’re right! I should ask him! Such important decisions require a camel’s wisdom!” And with a wild look in his eyes, and without any further pause quickly left the tent while only barely remembering to leave his plate behind.
Omid stared blankly, standing still, and silent. He blinked once or twice, possibly more until a light voice drew him from his confused contemplation.
“Is everything alright, Omid?”
He turned to the source after shaking his head to regain his senses, finding Karimala and her companion Baz looking quite concerned.
“Yes, just hoping I haven’t made a horrible mistake...or at least made a worse one…” He said, still staring off into nothing.
Karimala and Baz both looked to one another at the same time, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a frown. It was Baz’s turn to voice his concern this time. “I see, first scouting mission jitters?”
“Sorry, no.” He shook his head again. “I was just thinking that I may have quite foolishly led a camel into quick sa-”
“A little bit less poetry please.” Karimala interrupted with a polite smile, dark brown eyes still clearly showing concern.
Omid sighed, looking to the two and quickly taking solace in what appeared to be genuine concern as a weak smile returned to his face. “My companion Taljir is very willful. I had hoped that that will might be best used in the pursuit of us both finding something worthwhile out there. I...may have encouraged him to try for something...exciting as opposed to say, just settling for finding sand striders.”
The pair smiled, Karimala gave a short chuckle before speaking. “Is that all? He might be overeager sometimes but Taljir’s not-”
“He ran off saying he needed to consult his camel, and the wisdom of camels.” Omid’s thin face showed only a frown, anything more complex not possible while his mind contemplated this fact.
Karimala and Baz both failed to make any sort of eye contact as they each looked off at nothing in particular. Baz ran a hand through his short black curls, and scratched at the back of his head before clearing his throat. “Well, I talk to my camel. Ask her how she’s doing, make sure all is well. She’s a part of the family!”
“And you consult her on serious matters?” Omid asked plainly.
“Oh of course! I’ve done enough travelling to know you have to make sure your camel is happy!” He said with a bright smile.
“And you take her seriously as though she was a person and not just talking to a pet?” Omid didn’t need to cross his arms, his tone of voice and single raised brow was enough.
Baz avoided eye contact again, violet eyes darting about for something to save him. He briefly caught sight of Karimala, who’s own eyes were lightly screaming. Baz’s eyes pleaded back in that short second as Karimala relented.
“Well the important thing is that someone so concerned about the wellbeing of noble beasts of burden is no doubt a good person at heart. Just look at Baz!” She said while only slightly having to force a smile onto her full lips and give an overly showy gesture to Baz, who for his part tried to strike a pose though it was obvious he had absolutely no idea what type of pose he was going for.
Omid sighed and smiled. “I appreciate the effort. Thank you, both of you.”
The two decided to accept the technical victory, finally exiting the tent and walking with Omid as a group to the congregation of camels that had already started to be packed with food and water for the trek. The early light of morning was quickly warming up as all three suns had made it over the horizon, and all three scouts were busily chatting as they approached the camels.
“Really? Emerald Bay?” Omid focused on questioning Karimala instead of paying any mind to the crowd that had gathered to see them off.
Karimala gave a slight chuckle, fastening her scarf over her short puff of dark hair in preparation for the long trek. “What? Don’t I look it?”
Omid scoffed, looking to the shorter young woman who had skin even darker than his while adjusting his own scarf. “I had heard that all of you had eyes as green as the bay and skin like the sands of the great desert itself.”
“And Baz was supposed to have skin like the delta soil of the Zarak River and wheat colored eyes.” She said to Omid with a roll of her own eyes.
“My family were traders, luckily. Turns out hers were too.” Baz said.
“Luckily?” Omid shot them a questioning glance.
Karimala’s voice was as light as always, though it carried just a hint of sorrow. “Seems the great desert is expanding in every direction. Both of us children of caravaneers, so it was remarkably easier to pick up and start anew as the sands chased everyone out.”
Baz looked out over the near endless dunes gradually being lit by the light of early morning. “As beautiful as The Great Desert can be, not everything has to be desert. Or at least shouldn’t be…”
They had all been avoiding thinking about the trek for as long as they could in a final grasp at normality and interacting with even a small group before a long trek. All eventually followed Baz’s gaze to the dunes in every direction as far as the eye could see. What normality they had been hanging onto dried until it too was nothing but sand. As they were caught in a moment of contemplation, the fact that Omid had not spoken much about himself in their short chat hadn’t gone completely unnoticed.
“And you? How’d you end up signing onto a caravan?” It was Baz that asked the question as he and Karimala checked their camels and supplies, ensuring that all was ready for the trek. The braying of Karimala’s camel was just enough of a distraction for Omid.
“Ah, I didn’t have much choice either.” He said offhandedly, though neither could properly discern what he meant by that. “Though your camel has been kind enough to remind me that I must tend to my own. As well as my companion and his trusted camel. I suppose I shall see you on the other end of this life changing journey?”
His overall sincerity was just off-putting enough to make Karimala and Baz not force the issue, though both still could not help but wonder if this was something of a sensitive topic for Omid or if he was merely a particularly private person. The fact remained that he was polite enough that it did not seem to be done out of malice, and the two settled for simply smiling and wishing him farewell.
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“See you when we’re famous and you’re a mage?” Karimala said with a bright smile.
Omid laughed. “You heard that...of course everyone did...well I’m certain you two will be fortunate.” He hid the ever so slight frown well enough that they either didn’t notice or didn’t comment, which was just as effective.
Baz thankfully appeared to fully fail to notice, slightly pre-occupied with his camel voicing her displeasure with the crowd all focused on her. He patted at the large beast, gently reassuring her as he did before turning back to Omid. “Taljir is a willful one, I’m sure you two will find something good out there.”
“Well, thank you. Both of you. And best of luck, though I am certain you will not be in short supply of such a thing even without my well wishes.” Omid said with a slight bow before making his way through the gathering of camels and onlookers seeking to find any measure of excitement in what had been a so far uneventful desert crossing.
He exchanged a number of polite nods as he went, quickly thanking the random last well wishes and bits of advice that all who had gathered offered in a last attempt to show support. How much to eat and when to eat it. That stone bread was a morning meal and dates were for nights, or vice versa. Exactly how much water to drink in one go. A particular bit of advice that he heard several conflicting accounts of. By his own estimation based upon physical appearance and their dress, it was from peoples in widely varied locales at the opposing edges of the closest corners of The Great Desert.
From places that knew of plentiful rains, from others as dry as the desert itself. He saw no malice in their advice, and thanked each of them while silently resolving to stick to the recurring advice he had read about in the many books he read on this topic. Small sips, don’t gulp it down no matter how thirsty you are. Focus on making it back alive, but make it interesting at least.
The last part was decidedly not advice Omid had read about, he now realized. Though his timing in remembering it was seemingly impeccable as he spotted the familiar vibrant flowing robes and large profile of Aiz, now wearing a surprisingly simple cap of matching colors, speaking with Taljir and carrying a large satchel. The mage quickly noticed him and reached into his satchel to withdraw a small metal box, holding it securely in his hand.
“There you are, Taljir was just telling me how Nazer had helped him make an important decision.” Though he smiled, Omid caught the tiny darting of his eyes over to Taljir who looked to have not noticed anything amiss. It was quick enough that Omid suspected it was purely for his own benefit in lieu of being able to raise further concerns openly.
Omid bit his tongue for a brief moment to hold back the most immediate reply that came to mind, nodding along until the knee jerk reaction was gone. “I see.”
“It was so simple!” Taljir quickly responded, beaming brightly. “I realized that I must find myself a woman who understands animals as much as I do! But! I must prove myself worthy of such a woman and whatever type of life she may choose! How can I begin to judge those I might find worthy if I myself am not?”
For a brief moment, the question of just what precisely Taljir meant when he said “understands animal” ran through Omid’s head. The young man had earlier fashioned his scarf into a practical head covering in preparation for the trek. His dark complexion framed in darker shadows made for a more striking sight as his eyes had gone wide and he blinked several times in silence. Aiz’s back was still turned to Taljir, and took the opportunity to let a quick sympathetic wince peak through his carefully composed countenance. Omid gave a contemplative frown, putting a hand to his chin.
“Taljir, I believe you are absolutely correct. We really do have to prove ourselves out there.” He once again carefully hid as much of his face as he could as he stroked at his thin facial hair until he could muster a smile. “Now, what do you say we give this our best?”
The smile Omid conjured was not entirely forced, as he was pleasantly surprised at the insight that Taljir had shown. However, such a pleasant surprise had to rise above the question of whether or not Taljir believed he could talk to animals and was seeking a woman who could do the same. Omid buried such thoughts deeper than any long lost kingdom swallowed by The Great Desert. For the time being.
Taljir laughed triumphantly and bore a toothy grin. Aiz simply smiled politely once more and held out the small metal box he had earlier withdrawn to Omid.
“For when you two seek to return from your quest for worthiness. You will need this.” He paused before continuing, a thought and a contemplative look crossing his face. “Unless that is you want to try and return without the aid of this. But don’t. You will probably just get lost and probably die. Also in the event that you don’t use it and make it back and are still somehow alive, I will have no way of knowing that you didn’t use this. So, I will assume you are lying. Unless you are dead, in which case I suppose it's possible you used it and still returned dead. Use the compass.”
Throughout his ramble, Aiz appeared to be having an internal debate with himself that matched the verbal debate he had with himself out loud. In the end, he returned to the very same polite smile he usually put on as the early morning suns found a way to make that smile even brighter to the point of being disconcerting. Taljir and Omid had both stopped any and all movement as their mouths hung open with eyes showing only horror.
Omid failed all attempts to hide his shock as he finally regained a sliver of composure after realizing that the old mage was still expectantly holding out the small metal box. He cleared his throat, pushing aside the confusion and questions to take the box from the old man. It was remarkably unremarkable on the outside, composed of a dull and tarnished metal. No markings, only a small latch that held it together. Omid carefully unclasped it and pried it open, finding that the casing was likely nothing but a ruse.
Within was a beautiful brass disk, engraved with a text he did not recognize, with a small ring sitting atop it. At the end of a line running across the disk was a small arrow of lapis lazuli. Omid gave a slight gasp as he noticed that, carefully bringing up his other hand to cradle the deceptively valuable object for fear he may damage it.
“Turn the ring to the right twice, hold the box close to your face, and tell it ‘Blue skies shall see me home’. It will point to the caravan.” He calmly explained. “If there comes a point where you cannot return to us, and do not wish to lead someone back to us, turn it four times to the left and tell it ‘Sands take you the way of all flesh’. And before you ask, no you can’t take that one back.”
The two young men solemnly voiced their acknowledgement, hearing a confirmation of what they had been told in no uncertain terms before they even signed on for this desert crossing. Above all else, they were to lead no one and nothing back to the caravan that could pose a danger to all of them. It was not for simple beasts, nor even thieves and bandits. Such things could effectively be dealt with by a large group, and in such an event fleeing to the safety of the caravan was expected.
Those words and those actions were for the things out in the desert that could not be dealt with even by a caravan filled with trained guards and more than a few civilians willing to help out their fellow man. A small no doubt highly magical device with a mechanism and activation phrase designed purely for its own permanent deactivation.
“Were you...you were not joking about scouts returning to the caravan dead, were you?” Omid said with a slight creeping realization as he looked up from the compass to the old mage.
“You...wouldn’t happen to be speaking metaphorically would you?” Taljir said with a pleading grin.
Aiz’s face was once again one of stone as he took a step back so that he could look from Omid to Taljir. “One of our camels once returned with half of its rider still in the saddle. Not a drop of even the driest blood to be found splattered on camel, saddle, or even the rider’s clothes. In one of the pouches on that camel, we found a pair of green eyes. And once we figured out who exactly the rider was, someone remembered that he did not have green eyes. But his companion? She certainly did.”
Omid and Taljir once again remained silent and unmoving, though this time they both focused on other things. Taljir turned and gave an affectionate pat to Nazer and Omid looked over the lapis lazuli compass once more.
“You’re going to scare Nazer, with that talk.” Taljir said with a frown.
Aiz’s eyebrow raised as he looked to Taljir. “You know, you don’t have to go. No one does. Everyone does have their reasons for going though. Even after knowing all the risks. So, any last minute changes of heart?”
“Now? After coming this far? Never.” Taljir said with a triumphant smile. He looked to Omid, as did the old mage.
Omid looked over the compass a final time before latching it shut and placing it in a pouch on his belt. He strolled past the mage to his own camel, speaking as he went. “There’s no going back for me. Only forward.” He said as though it was the simplest observation. He gave a slight bow to the mage and set about ensuring that his own camel was all set for the trek.
“Until we meet again, then. Preferably in as few pieces as possible!” He laughed heartily at his own joke as he walked off to hand out more compasses.
The two young men did their best to ignore the parting ‘joke’ as they went about their final preparations. They worked while saying nothing between them for a short while to ensure that all the survival supplies for the trek were in order, the buzz of the gathered crowd being the only thing preventing an uncomfortable silence in the time they had before all scouts were to set out.
“What’s your camel’s name?” Taljir asked from atop Nazer.
Omid looked over to him for a moment before climbing atop his own camel. “Well, he’s not my camel. He’s the caravan’s-”
“You’ve ridden with him this far out into the desert and now you’re going on a wondrous trek to find wonderful wonders unknown.” Taljir scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “He’s your camel.”
Omid looked down at his camel who happened to look back at him at that same moment and blinked at him for a few times before finding some other random sight to hold its interest. The young man sighed as he conceded that Taljir had a point. “I am told his name is Masel.”
“A fine name for a fine camel!” Taljir exclaimed while busily securing his own scarf around his head.
Omid gave a pat to Masel, silently thinking for a moment before finally responding with a simple “Thank you.”
Taljir finished securing his deep red scarf just as he saw one of the caravan leaders making his way to the front of the gathering. Finally being ready for an important scouting expedition mere minutes before it was to start still counted as being early and he would hear absolutely nothing to the contrary. He looked over to Omid who had left no last minute preparations before arriving at the camels.
“Where did you get a scarf that green?” He asked.
Omid pulled his own vibrant green scarf over his nose before commanding Masel to rise. “A gift from my grandmother. It's from a plant that grows where she lives.” He said in a practiced tone that told of the frequency with which he heard such a question.
Taljir commanded Nazer to rise, seeing the caravan leader had quieted the crowd enough to make a speech. His own curiosity saw fit to press the issue in a low enough voice for Omid to hear but not interrupt the speech. “Hmmm, trade you?”
Omid tried his best to suppress a laugh as the caravan leader rambled on. “Find us a lost ruin out there and it’s all yours.”
“Is that all? I’m holding you to that. I’ll even be kind enough to let you have my old scarf for the return trip.” He said with all seriousness, as both young men finally focused on the caravan leader to catch the tail end of his speech.
The portly old man with a finely styled beard and mustache, complexion darkened from a long life in the sun that no amount of fine airy clothes could prevent, made a grand gesture to the scouts, now all set to take off in every direction. “For us all they scout The Great Desert! Not simply for our humble caravan, but for all of us who would dare to brave it! May they return to us in good health and great wealth!”
There was a jingling and clinking as he walked, said fine clothes adorned in small metal baubles that made each sweeping gesture all the more grandiose. The fine ceruleans of his attire matching those of his caravan, contrasting the motley assortment of clothing most of the scouts were clad in. Most made an effort to wear something reminiscent of their homeland, and even so most were clad in overly simple and utilitarian clothes. Belts holding a varying number of pouches and simple blades at their hips, to the old caravaneer’s single overly opulent sword at his hip for all to see.
The caravan leader walked up and down the semicircle of scouting pairs as he bellowed grandiose wishes and promises. “With no further delay. Scouts! Let the secrets of the sands be known!”
Like the air right before lightning struck, all of the scouts had been tense with adrenaline running high. Those final words acting as a spark that lit into lightning coursing through their veins as they all commanded their camels to take off at a canter. Out into that endlessly shifting expanse of golden sands, rocks and mountains alike that seemed to rise and fall into the desert as the years went by, and countless perils that most dreaded to even think of.
They raced onward into the desert, partially for show and partially to outrun all final doubts and thoughts of backing out. With all three suns now radiating down onto them, they kept up the pace until the last of their fellow scouts were gone from their peripheral vision. Taljir and Omid slowed their pace, taking a moment to look around them as their camels kept pushing onward. Far off in the distance they saw the caravan, and one other group just now disappearing over a dune. An action they soon followed suit with, as all sight of any human presence aside from each other was now gone. They gave a silent nod to one another as they fixed their vision forward onto that seemingly endless expanse, minds already running wild with what they might find as their camels carried them into the vast sand sea.