The luminous moon shone above, shining on the earth below. Frigid winds brought an invasive chill, and only temperature-resistant enchanted robes protected her from its grasp. Flexing the thick reins, she urged her mount to make haste.

Brown eyes with flecks of yellow surveyed their surroundings, wary of any pursuers or watchers. High above the ground, no mundane attacker would reach her. The true powers of the sands were far from mundane, however. They brought the bizarre to reality and an end to the ordinary.

‘Faster’ she thought. ‘Faster and faster’. To the shadowed prince. To the prophesied Lord of the Dunes. To her brother, endlessly agonizing over the past.

While hesitant to resort to her powers, she still was quite a distance away from her brother. The winged lion was like an arrow at the end of its flight, and further pushing would only kill, not encourage. So, with silky brown hair fluttering out of her robe and the winds scratching at her grim face, she rhymed a decree to the heavens.

“Oh lord sky, chieftain of the wise

Bless my soul with the power of the skies!”

With those words, she could feel some strength fade to the winds. Satisfied with their due, they obeyed her whims. A strong draft came into being, and it pulled the sphinx and their passenger further and further. Faster and faster. Desperate and more desperate.

To the hope of them all.

(...)

A boy stood stunned at the sight of the still little girl, her eyes vacant. The elder sibling, once a tempest of rage now wilted at the sight of the crime. Their crime.

“By Atoma”, someone cried, “What have you done? Answer me! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!”

Words were said, curses uttered, and tears spilled. Yet the fallen remained still and motionless.

Then, an inky curtain appeared and sealed all.

Lord of the Dunes. Heir to Atoma and the true son of the sands. He was meant to lead his people to the golden age. By his will the Grand Scourge would perish, its tendrils of death lifeless. Looming on the fringes of the kingdom, not even the Wall of Moros would stand against his might, allowing his brethren to lay waste to the dens of depraved madmen laying beyond. Once and for all.

A crime shattered those lofty aspirations. The king of man no longer desired to rule over all. He merely wanted to rest in the sands forevermore.

God denied him.

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Already, Ehan could feel his presence slither into his mind. At a moment’s notice, his god would deign to visit his vessel and offer his own brand of counsel.

CEASE YOUR FOOLISHNESS AT ONCE VESSEL. WE MUST COMPLETE THE DIVINE WORK AND EXTINGUISH THE FLAMES OF THE HERETICS.

It was often ignored.

Bound in spirit, Atoma’s presence shackled Ehan to this accursed world, desiring salvation yet doomed to wander as a husk, not a man. He ventured from the looming oasis cities to the fringe towns at the edge of the Wall of Moros. Instead of the light, smiling nobles with knives for hearts, despondent beggars with ever-shrinking bellies, and beautiful whores with eyes hungry for coin greeted him, all desiring something.

“Savior”, they probed, cried, and whispered, “does lord Atoma speak to you? Does he whisper in your ears the plan for men, and are you entitled to the boons of the sands?”. Quietly and with a light in their eyes, they asked, “Are you the Prince cloaked in Shadow, Lord to the Dunes?”

With the weight of their expectations on his shoulders and the light in their eyes reflecting his emptiness, Ehan answered. “Prince? Lord? I am but a sane man in a world of fools. I fear… I fear I am the last sane man.” Then Ehan turned away from the crushed and left again in search of the final chapter in his descent into madness.

On a day free of the clouds, he met the strange man with garbs dyed in a rainbow. Red hair and green eyes betrayed his foreignness. However, unlike all the other souls he crossed on his journey, the man wore his madness proudly, speaking to Ehan as his fingers finished picking open the corpse of a still Sentry.

“Ah, this?”, the foreigner said, eyes following Ehan’s gaze. “ A passing flight of thought regarding the inner workings of these creatures. Quite fascinating indeed.” he smiled good-naturedly, like a child caught in the midst of mischief.

Having heard the tale of the sudden appearance of lands beyond Horei, Ehan wasn’t totally surprised. Last he knew those lands were dealing with their own crises, making contact far and view between. The fact an individual from those far-off nations could slay a Sentry was indicative enough of their strength.

His curiosity peaked, Ehan summoned a glimmering Khopesh. The rainbow-dyed man cocked an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in emerald green orbs.

“I pray I die by your hand, stranger," Ehan sincerely said. Then, with a leap stronger than a lion and a speed faster than a gazelle, he charged toward what he hoped was atonement.

While sweet death did not come, that day was his first loss in years.

(...)

Daylight shone overhead, rolling with the dunes, warming the sands, and illuminating lives. It burned the aimless one. The all-powerful scorching daylight roasted its spirit and cooked its soul. Broked to but a wisp, the daylight only hastened its death.

Nevertheless, it searched and searched and searched. The smallest crannies and the tallest spaces it searched. The most insignificant pest and the tallest creature it searched. The tiniest gravel and the largest dune it searched. It kept searching for the one that would be its oasis in the desert. To the one that would complete it.

Not even the rays of light would discourage it. Yet even so, the aimless one could sense the finality in the air. Soon, the winds would scatter it, never to return again.

It would be forgotten.

Emotion swirled in its sliver of being. It could not accept the end. It refused to. However, to the sun, what did it matter what a gnat desired? Divine heat would smite it all the same.

Night and day turned their cycle a few more turns, and by the night the already wisp was but a sliver of a sliver. The oasis was not to be found, outside the grasp of any determination the wisp could garner. It was time to go.

Losing control of its incorporeal form, the aimless one began to dissipate, bits of its invisible body fading in the wind. As it approached death, memories of a life filled with love and hate flashed in the aimless one’s conscious. Whispering to no one, it spoke its heart.

Why? Why did Father betray me? Why was I abandoned by Hamaza? Why?

Despairing, the aimless one was ready to accept the end when light appeared in its sight. Unlike the blazing sun, the light didn’t burn. It comforted the aimless one and promised sanctuary. An oasis in the dusk of death.

Summoning an unknown strength, the aimless one dashed forward toward the light. Then, it entered it, melding its soul and spirit with the light, and forged a connection to its savior.

To its vessel.