A half-dead mortal crawled forward. His fingers clawed at the sand until he reached Lucien, clutching at his boot with what little strength remained.
The man stared hollowly at Lucien as though unburdening his sins before a silent deity. No one asked him to speak, no one pressed him... yet the words spilled out like a confession he could no longer hold inside.
"T-The desert… the desert swallowed them…" he rasped.
His voice cracked like dry parchment.
"We fought… we fought the neighboring kingdom… but… b-but…"
His whole body trembled.
"When the war began… the sand shook…" His eyes stared past Lucien as if seeing it again. "The sky fell quiet… and then—"
His eyes rolled.
"—the desert got angry."
A deep shudder passed through the gathered practitioners.
Lucien knelt, supporting the man.
"What do you mean, 'angry'?"
The man's tears mingled with the sand.
"No wind… no sound… no escape…" he whispered. "Our armies vanished into the dunes… swallowed… gone…"
