The two find themselves in a stone lined cellar as cold as one might expect an underground area to be. On the back wall lay a large black eye on a yellow banner, under which two beds lay with a large trunk under each.

"So, its underground this time." Said Cyrus as he walked over to one of the beds and sat on it, dropping his heavy travelling bags, full of various necessities.

"Yes, these ones are the better hideouts in the grand desert. Nice and cool." Replied Cato as he walked over to an inconspicuous part of the wall and rapped his knuckles on it. "This one even comes with a different exit. It was always one of my favorites"

"Are you ever going to tell me what this ex-job of yours is? The perks it came with speaks for itself you know." asks Cyrus.

Laughing, Cato replied "If you want to know what my job was then figure it out for yourself. It’s in the next edition of A Record on Imperial Affairs. If you plan on attending one of the Arcane Academies then the least you can do is get a head start on things all that ‘boring political’ information." Cato then reached into his bag and threw a set of books, seemingly too large to fit his small rucksack, on Cyrus' bed.

"I noticed you were almost done with your last set. Once you finish your last set and this one you will have a whole year advantage on the other kids which will give you a whole year to continue getting ahead. Remember, the more promise you show the more resources will be allocated to you."

Cyrus grabs the books and puts them into his small bag, without even blinking as to how such varied and large books could fit in such a small sack.

"Fine, fine, I know what's best for me. I won't slack on my ticket out of the grand desert, not after learning that its not a flaming hell over there. Paradise indeed."

Cato sits on the other bed, with a hint of pain in his voice, "The climate is indeed better over there but it is nothing close to paradise. Instead of dealing with people who display their malice outright you will be surrounded by snakes concealing themselves in human guise." Sighing Cato continues," The ends justify the means, this phrase describes the empire all too well. But if you want to carve your own in this world and become someone who holds their own fate then it's the only place to be."

Cato pauses, recollecting himself as he leaves memories of a murky past behind.

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"Enough of that dreary talk, pick up your studies once more while we wait for nightfall. Once that happens you have a task to complete. Depending on how well you do I may reward you."

Cyrus grunts in agreement while taking out his book The History of the Arcane, studying until the cool night arrives.

------

Night had arrived and the previously empty streets filled up with raucous laughter and reckless abandon. Cyrus looked around the dirt pathways, taking care to avoid the small pockets of fighting and isolated pickpockets. He made his way towards his destination, a small unnamed yet popular local market where various goods were traded for a price.

Walking up to the small outcropping of varied tents, he made his way to the market taking careful note of where all the hidden guards are.

"Quite a few of them this time around, guess this town is supported by one of the more powerful Ajem. Wait no… Agha are the feudal landowners and the Ajem are their cronies that manage their businesses. Damned Sultans and their naming sense." Thought Cyrus as he walked up towards one of the trader stalls.

"Hey there kid, take a look. The finest flying knives the world has ever known forged personally by the great…." The merchant droned on in a thick Persae accent. Cyrus feigned interest while filtering out all the neigh comical exaggerations typical of these merchants.

"All right you have my interest. Show me the knives wrapped in silk." Said Cyrus.

The merchant gave a toothy grin, reached down and pulled out a small chest. He opened the chest and inside of it were knives wrapped in silk. "Lookin’ for a specific type lad?" asked the merchant.

"I’m looking for a recently made one, as recent as possible. Purple in shade, preferably of a southern variety" listed Cyrus.

"Oh that we have, an especially fresh one at that. Bit too new for my tastes but that's just me hahaha." The merchant grabbed one of the knives closer to him and asked "Would you like a statement of ownership, lad?"

Cyrus nodded while giving him an imperial gold coin.

"How generous of you" The merchant paused and whispered while writing the statement, softly but loud enough for Cyrus to hear, "Seems that the southern knives are quite popular today, second one sold today". The merchant finished writing the statement, slipping it into the silk covering of the knife, handing it to Cyrus.

Cyrus thanked the merchant and left the market. Finding himself an inconspicuous corner between two tents while pulling out the statement. "Great. Looks like I’m not the only one looking out for a shipment of wine." Cyrus opened the statement, reading the code contained within.

"The southern wind blows and the new flock shows when the next seven dawn breaks."

"As cryptic as always. Hmm.. Southern exit of the oasis, a new trader will be coming to town. Looks like this one didn't pay his dues to the Agha, even the time of arrival is here. Wonder if this is arrogance or stupidity?" Mused Cyrus as he tore up the note and stored the knife in a hidden pocket. He got up and headed towards the southern exit, mentally preparing himself for a long stakeout in the middle of the desert.

" [New land, new rules.] The price of not following the local customs is high, especially here where a quick death is the most likely outcome"