Omid walked without a smile, and without a destination. He only walked blank faced and aimlessly through the palace halls. His mind was a turbulent surf crashing against a shore with all the white noise it brought, and he wandered the halls with only that white noise in his head. There was but one thought in his head, battered about by waves. Just the one thought acting as an anchor and a lighthouse to guide the way despite the light being dim and indistinct.
Find the right place.
And so he wandered and walked, never turning back. There was no need, for he knew Sareen would follow. He had her attention, as little as he understood that fact. His mind wasn’t even fully processing his surroundings as he wandered, only filtering things in his aimless search. The thought that he would be hopelessly lost after this was over didn’t register, but then the idea that there was absolutely no going back had yet to find purchase and upset him thus far.
All was a blur. Sights, sounds, even time. Until something washing up in the surf was enough to moor his focus: pale light and cool air. Omid followed both until he found himself out on a balcony about the size of a large room, at least a few stories up and overlooking the white landscape of the moon. It was largely unadorned, aside from the metal railing that was cool to the touch as Omid leaned against it. Had he not felt it in his hands, he may have mistaken it for stone if not for the distinct metallic feel. As he glanced out over the palace from this height, he had not been aware of ascending several stories. Then again, he had not been very aware at all. Nor would he be surprised if this was yet another of those inexplicable tricks of impossible geometry.
Sareen leaned back against the railing, letting her head loll back even further as she retained an inquisitive smile pointed at Omid. The human returned her own amused smile with his own searching look, as he tried finding a question before he could even look for answers.
One came to him, and he didn’t hold back against all reason.
“What am I, to you?” Omid asked as he locked eyes with the Kirzallan.
Sareen blinked back, dark skin catching the pale night light of a fellow moon and a planet in just such a way to highlight the soft features of her face. All symmetrical, stopping just before it looked wrong and landed comfortably in highly attractive. Which only enhanced her ever present passive level of threatening air.
She kept staring, searching Omid’s more rounded eyes with her own ovaline eyes to match an overall oval face shape. And Omid stared back, taking notice of every detail of her face as they both stared one another down. Her fuller lips parted to reveal pearly white teeth, and Omid’s own thin lips remained pressed together as he awaited an answer.
“What do you want to be?” She asked, tilting her head back and letting her long black hair dangle loose and free.
Omid kept his eyes locked with hers, inhaled deeply, and gave a sharp exhale that was just short of a snort. “If I say what I want, I can imagine it would be an amusing joke before whatever purpose you have in mind. And if I say that it is not up to me, then I prove myself unworthy of choosing. Is that accurate, Sareen?”
The Kirzallan turned and shifted from resting both elbows on the railing to place all weight on her left arm as she extended her right to gently poke Omid in the chest. “That is what I like about you, Omid.”
He didn’t flinch as her finger gently jabbed his sternum through the light fabric, and she continued on with her explanation.
“So many other humans fall to their knees in fear.” She said while facing him and baring too many teeth. “And still others think arrogance is an appropriate response. A tiny few seem to have the right manners, and all of them excuse themselves to leave and return to their boring lives. But you.”
She took a step closer, and only Omid’s eyes moved down to keep eye contact as the rest of him stood still. “You stayed. And you gave your reasons as to why you did, but that wasn’t the full story was it Omid?”
The human’s mouth ran dry as he focused on keeping his breathing steady.
“Oh don’t worry, I’m not accusing you of lying.” She cooed and reassured him. “That would imply you were doing so deliberately, and I don’t think even you really know do you Omid?”
Her smile sent a chill down his spine that matched the cool yet breezeless night air of the moon. All too still, all too silent, all too high up, all too far from anyone else that could help. If such a thing were even possible.
“If it was mutually beneficial, would it matter?” Omid asked after a moment in which he decided on stalling and dancing around direct answers.
“Of course!” Sareen’s indigo eyes twinkled in the night light. “Because it goes beyond that! Every time I think I have you figured out, you surprise me! Pragmatism where there should be horror, fascination where there should be confusion, and a daring to delve deeper when others would run screaming back to safety.”
Omid took a step closer, taking advantage of the height difference to look down to her despite her own presence making it feel as though they were on eye level. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“And you didn’t answer mine.” She said with a smile.
“I asked first.” He said with a stern look.
The Kirzallan lit up even more in the dim light of night amplified by waves of white sand surrounding a pale stone palace, with a smile to match, and a wild look in her eyes that outshone it all. “And so I asked my own question. Because I don’t know! Such a mystery, such a man is thrilling beyond any mere practical application. Beyond any offering be they material or in power. So I ask you, Omid, what do you want to be beyond any plans I thought I had for you?”
Omid’s breathing was as steady as the waves rolling in his head, with the same crashing force as he exhaled. And if he was a lighthouse amongst turbulent seas, he failed in his duties as he focused on the one thing standing against all waves, its indigo lights staring back at him. Daring him to turn and run for the safety of higher ground.
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And he laughed, for there was no other option.
Only for a moment, before any feelings could turn.
“I’m afraid you were correct, I really don’t know.” He said as he broke eye contact to look over the vast landscape of the moon as Sareen tilted her head and leaned in.. “I have countless ideas crashing about in my head like a storm, each trying to push the other beneath the waves. Many of them trying to take me with them. And for the life of me I can’t decide which of them to trust, who’s hand to take...ah…”
Sareen’s smile shrank as she raised a brow, seeing Omid’s smile grow broader as he chuckled to himself and leaned back against the railing. He looked over to her, dark brown eyes locking with hers.
“If I would fall below the waves, if I would sink into the sands, if I would be gripped by flames, and if I would fall from the skies.” Omid recited as his smile vanished and his eyes focused in on hers. “I would ask that when I reach out a hand, you would take mine. And that you would know the favor would be returned.”
The Kirzallan took a step closer, the space between the two shrinking more and more as each dared further and further. “Is such a thing so vital to you?”
“To whom could you reach that hand out to?” Omid asked.
All traces of Sareen’s smile vanished in an instant, and for the briefest moment she dipped past indifferent neutrality and into the smallest frown at the corners of her lips and showing in her wincing eyes. It was enough to make her flinch the tiniest bit back towards her palace before Omid held out a hand to her with the smallest of smiles. She stepped closer to him, and interlaced her fingers with his, staring at their interlocked hands. Omid stared down at their hands, expression blank, expecting a handshake and getting this.
Both of them stood like that for some time. Silent. Unmoving.
“This will be…” Sareen mulled the thought over, picking out exactly how to phrase it as she studied their hands. “-more advantageous.”
“It will be.” Omid nodded.
“More things achievable at the War Party.” She held onto his hand as she stared out over the white sand sea. “More magic to teach you.”
“Are you going to tell me about those plans now?” The human asked, looking out over the moon with her.
Sareen hummed to herself as she thought, searching the seas of white sand for an answer. “Tomorrow.”
“I’ll share a few pressing matters of my own, then, as well.” Omid said, and the two fell into a comfortable silence as they stood and watched the stillness of the moon’s landscape.
Time was lost between them, until finally Sareen tugged at Omid’s hand to drag the two of them back into the palace without another word. They walked at one another’s side, though Sareen took the lead to wherever it was they were going this time. Omid felt the last twinges of apprehension of not knowing what was next, of expecting a trick, of expecting...something.
He couldn’t name it, but he could of course expect it. Walking down twisting, dimly lit hallways and fluttering tapestries, of footsteps just around corners that never materialized into something and someone. And Sareen leading him along into that same nameless something. Perhaps even something good?
No, never.
Unless he had really gotten through to her.
Unless there really had been a shift in the dynamic into...something.
That same nameless something he was walking to, hand in hand with a woman who had almost killed his friend for a slight. Who had slaughtered a band of thieves as a gift. And for whom he had almost certainly angered some unknown entity of great power. Possibly several.
At that realization, there was no longer any fear when they stopped in the familiar hallway leading to his private room. Sareen stopped, looked down to their linked hands once more, and slowly unlaced their fingers before looking up into Omid’s eyes.
“After breakfast, more training. And secrets shared.” She said with a nod, her brows pressing together as a question remained in her eyes though her lips betrayed no feeling. “Rest well, Omid.”
“Until tomorrow, Sareen.” Omid said with the smallest of nods, watching her vanish down that darkened hallway until it was only him standing there all alone until even her echoing footsteps muffled into nothingness.
The exhaustion of a long day was catching up with him, and as he turned to continue down the hall and into his room he knew he had one final task. After slipping into his room, and keeping an eye out to ensure that he was truly alone he shut the large stone door as gently as he possibly could. His back to the door, his eyes darted from one end of the room to the other. He power walked over to the door leading into the bath, pulling it open and poking his head in to confirm that it too was empty.
Omid then stood with his back to that door as well, scanning his room once more before dropping down and looking under his bed in a final wave of paranoia that he would swear was simply good old fashioned cautiousness.
No one was there, he finally confirmed.
He withdrew the small obsidian disk from his pouch, still wrapped in cloth, and uncovered it in the darkened room lit only by the tiniest sliver of light from a window on high. Omid held it with the thin edge towards him, avoiding all reflective parts of it and finally gave a great exhale.
“We dare at trust and...something.” He admitted to the disk. “And you, you still hold your secrets.”
Omid set the disk down upon the ornate trunk which held his belongings as he walked over to where an oil lantern sat upon a wooden dresser.
“You even facilitate learning.” The young man said, taking a bit of oil residue between his fingers, snapping them against one another as he spoke Control over the bit of heat he produced to force a tiny little flame into his palm, just as he had been practicing. He cradled it as he chanted the spell then flicked it into it’s new home burning in the lantern. “And yet I highly doubt you would be as...agreeable as Sareen.”
With the lantern casting a warm glow over his room, he grabbed the obsidian disk and stashed it within a pile of fresh bath robes, then stowed that pile within the trunk of belongings and latched it shut. Omid then flopped down to the edge of his bed, allowing himself a moment of respite before preparing for bed, shaking his head in a now nightly ritual as he told himself there was no other way but forward.