“Now this party…” Aiz seemed to be thinking of a delicate end to that sentence. “do we need to rescue you before it or is after a viable option? Because my research here is promising but I would like to be more certain of things before we attempt it.”

Omid paced about his room with the fading light of day pouring in through that high window, hand to his chin as he combed his fingers through his beard while thinking. “The last big important meeting involved us running away.”

“You mean you and the Kirzallan?” Aiz asked.

“As I said, we ran away after making a big scene.” Omid paused his pacing to shake his head and sigh. “Which was apparently fully intentional. So it is not completely out of the bounds of reason to expect something similar at this Zallan War Party. Though we are at her own home so I would doubt it would be anything that necessitates fleeing. Let us aim for after the party, as vital intel could be gathered and the whole palace is on high alert until the party. In part because it has become my job to help find any security vulnerabilities and deal with them.”

“I was unaware you were proficient in that.” Aiz seemed genuinely curious.

Omid let out a short laugh as he flicked a mote of dust off his new green attire. “I’m not. But Sareen seems to trust me enough with it...or she might be testing me again. There is also a strong possibility that it is both.”

“Overly complex mating dances aside, what are your plans after the party?” Aiz asked, amusement audible in his voice. “Will you be ready to leave?”

The young man scoffed, then scoffed again. “Well it is hard to say at this point in time, obviously. So many things could change. And there is always the possibility of there being more to do after the War Party. I can hardly leave unfinished business here, especially when that business would be likely to come hunt me down if I up and left.”

“So you don’t want to leave, yet.” Aiz’s response was an immediate observation, to which Omid shook his head at the old mage clearly not getting it.

“It’s not really up to me.” Omid said while flinging his hands outward in exasperation while going for another round of pacing along the blue and gold design carpet in front of the glass setup transmitting sound. “If I have an opportunity to do some good then I must do so.”

“Others could do it.” Aiz said, voice calm.

“Others aren’t here at the moment.” The young man was close to getting dizzy from shaking his head so much. He paused, staring ahead at a tapestry hanging from the wall in some geometric design in half a dozen different colors. “Shouldn’t a mage take advantage of and adapt to the situation?”

There was a pause, and when Aiz responded Omid could hear the smile in his words. “Very good.”

Omid took a few breaths after getting slightly worked up, rolled his shoulders and finally asked “Was that a test as well?”

“Oh of course.” Aiz said, audible smile growing. “Really there were a few correct answers. One was taking the opportunity to get yourself out of danger, the other was taking advantage of a rare opportunity. Once again, it is like dangerous women. Do you take the safe option of fleeing in one piece? Or do you pursue her no matter how much of a bad idea it seems because this is your chance, it matters not who her master is nor that you are rivals. That adds to the excitement of it! And so many skills to be learned from it all such as deception and stealth while you both keep your forbidden love born from the passion of rivalry a secret. But you must ask yourself, how long do you hide? Forever? Only until you must hide no longer? Do you prove yourselves and that you are beholden to none? How long do you keep at this and do you keep fighting each other as a cover for meeting which really also provides an excuse for healing. Intimate healing-”

Omid loudly cleared his throat into his hand several times, greatly exaggerated for effect and leaving no subtlety so that there was no returning to a ramble that was getting more uncomfortable by the second as Omid averted his eyes from the glass and searched for anything else in the room to focus on rather than give whatever that was his full attention.

“I feel as though some of that is relevant to me but-”

Aiz burst into laughter, not a hint of embarrassment or self-consciousness to be found in it. Only pure amusement. “Many lessons to be learned from an old man! Plenty of them relevant eventually, if you live long enough! But this does change things slightly. Your friends down here probably won’t like it, and it requires altering the plan considerably, but it could work!”

Omid’s eyebrow raised as his lips curled into the slightest of frowns. “You mean should?”

“No!” The old mage said with a chuckle. “Now, you said you had gained some measure of authority there had you not?”

Omid’s eyes rolled over to the other side of the room in search of a better way of putting things. “Well a fair amount for an apprentice mage-”

“Being a mage is a lucrative career no matter how you pursue the magical arts, Omid.” Aiz’s tone was even and polite. “But if you had been my apprentice alone you would have far fewer camels and subordinates with titles.”

“Titles that I invented to make them sound more important and less replaceable!” Omid wagged his finger at the glass contraption as he paced back and forth at a faster pace.

“Which would be different from any other title how?” The old man’s toothy smile was once again audible, probably something about the sound bouncing off his teeth that acted as acoustic amplifiers for the amount of amusement dripping from his voice.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The young man wheeled around on his heels mid stride, finger wagging ready to point out all the flaws in that obviously faulty statement as he took a deep breath to fuel all of those perfectly valid arguments. His finger curled back into a wavering fist as he pursed his thin lips after all arguments died before they could so much as leave his throat. He glanced away from the glass contraption once more, which despite not allowing the transmission of sights still somehow allowed for an impossibly amused grin of an old man to travel great distances.

Omid cleared his throat. “You know I don’t think I will ever be a good mage, I am a stranger to the fine art of wily smiles plastered across my face as some poor unfortunate soul mentally works his way through some revelation.”

After about a minute of uproarious laughter, Aiz finally calmed himself down enough to respond. “Nonsense! That part is completely optional! Now, you have tricked this woman into agreeing to your terms before yes?”

“I convinced her, yes.”

“Yes yes you are as guile as Umun.” Aiz waved off his excuses. “And as such, I need you to convince your Moon Princess to allow you to invite some guests of your own to this party. Three of them.”

His pacing paused, Omid stared at the glass elevated and gleaming in the last light of day. He stared for a good long while as Aiz waited, and Omid studied every fine detail of that glass. Its smooth surface and smoother edges that had been expertly crafted in a display of magic. And the similar black glass disk accompanying it that somehow looked even smoother. So polished that it was like a small black mirror, and if he tilted his head just ever so then he could see the smallest reflection of himself glinting back at him. Only enough for an eye, all finer color gone but a deep brown reflected in the polished black surface made for a strong contrast with the whites of his eyes.

A single blink reflected in the tiny obsidian mirror was just enough to startle him, and he remembered someone was patiently and quietly waiting on his response.

“I will.” Omid said.

“You sound quite confident.” Aiz observed.

“I will because I must.” Omid’s words flowed free as he shrugged once more. “But remember that there still seem to be other interested parties at play here.”

Aiz’s chuckle emanated from the obsidian disk. “Then I will be able to assist you in unveiling this mystery. Now go and act with cunning, my apprentice.” The old man said, as he and Omid bid each other farewell until the next night.

Omid was left in an all too quiet room, once again all too alone. Dinner had gone and passed. He should have already been asleep. And yet as he disassembled the glass contraption for safe and secretive storage he still felt restless. The War Party would be soon, and there was too much to do. Too much to do and with minimal aid. He tucked the clear glass disk away in its hiding place among some other trinkets Omid had acquired from the camel thieves in a small chest that had also been reappropriated.

The small black disk was next, and as he went to return it to its own hiding spot Omid paused to look at it as he held it between his fingers. His reflection stared back at him with brows pressing together in concern, and he got through one blink before looking away from himself and stashing it in his pouch instead.

There was still something he had to do, Omid thought to himself as he made his way to the stone door of his private room. He wasn’t entirely sure what, but he had to do it tonight. The metal handle to the door was cool in his hand, making the slightest grinding sound as he turned it and left his room to emerge into a darkened hallway.

Half the lights in the palace went out after a certain hour as the sun set below this moon’s horizon, and those that remained were dimmed. Not enough to make navigation more difficult, but enough to make everything...more. Every corner more harrowing, every room more ominous, every shadow more mysterious. It was not as though Omid didn’t care, as he wandered the halls of the darkened palace, it was that it didn’t fully register. The possible danger didn’t reach down deep enough into his mind as he made sure to step in just a certain way to muffle his footsteps.

The pale stone wall reflected even the reduced number of lights well to keep things from being too dark, but it was counteracted by tapestries and the random odd statue casting shadows like fear was meant to be a deterrent at night. And still Omid pressed onward down darkened halls and looming shadows. All sconces here shone with a perfect and even light that never flickered like a flame. No dancing shadows to distract and confuse the mage’s apprentice as he wandered aimlessly in search of an aim. Instead it was a feeling of surrealness to watch everything in that dim unwavering light of a quality and coldness he was still unused to.

It was enough to give him pause, for this was all starting to feel like a dream. He looked around this room that seemed to connect several hallways, finding it looking far too plain in comparison to the rest of the palace. Only two lit sconces in here, casting their dim light on pale stone. Not a sound to be heard, and not a single other soul to be seen in Omid’s walkabout. He had never been out this late but there should be some servants still passing through.

Omid reached down to the pouch that held that small obsidian disk, withdrawing and holding it up to gaze into it. His own form in the dark glass was indistinct in the low light. His lips fell into a frown as he held it closer to him until he saw his face scowling back at him. Turning the disk this way and that to really get a feeling of a reflection, which he had always known to be faulty in a dream. Though only half of his face was reflected at a time as he turned it back and forth, it was still visible enough and when he blinked it blinked back.

Or had that been a wink at just the right moment?

Omid stashed the obsidian disk away once more as he continued his wanderings.

An entity had presented him with no less than two indigo flowers, and perhaps now this disk as well. Or perhaps it was yet another party after some unknown agenda. And whoever it was, some unknown means of magic allowed him to speak to Aiz so very far away.

It only stood to reason that some unknown magic allowed listening from afar. Omid paused in a hallway of perfectly clear glass to withdraw a small cloth from one pouch to wrap around the obsidian disk, frowning as he wrapped it tight and hoped this would be enough until he was able to store it in some corner of his room.

As Omid looked up, he got a familiar feeling and only bothered with a sigh as he looked off to his side to see indigo eyes staring back at him. “Couldn’t sleep, would you care to walk with me?”

“Lead on.” Sareen said, smile already growing.