The soft sand broke his fall.

He clambered up the dune, his hand and feet sinking into the loose dust. Without his sailer the desert began to devour him. He didn't have time to struggle. He frantically clambered to the top.

A wall of sand blasted him back. He tumbled down. On and on. It was dark. Sand scoured at him. Aimlessly he felt around. There was nothing but dust, the elevation was his only guide. He didn't know if it was the right dune.

The gusts pushed him back. He stayed low. The loose sands slid underneath his hands and feet. He didn't know wether he was going up or futilely clawing at the dune.

Suddenly he fell over the crest. Slid down in the dark. He grasped around him but found no purchase. Hit something solid, but with give. Tumbled past it into the depths.

He clambered up again, and grasped his charm. A burst of air silenced the storm. For a moment the sand hung still around him. Swordeater's shape laid motionlessly mere steps away, already half swallowed by the sand.

Sandhailer groaned and stood up. He lifted Swordeater and held him up by the waist. He regretted ever believing he was light, as he began to drag him up. The charm ran out. The storm pummeled his back.

He grabbed the ends of their ropes, and tied them together. One step after the other. He pulled them up the dunes, only to stumble far down. Grabbed Swordeater again for the next. 

His arms ached. His legs buckled. He fell and got up. Stepped forward and felt his knees give out. Fell down again. 

Idiot.

He tossed his cloak over their heads. Heaved against the sand. The cloth was weighed down more and more each passing moment.

Now we both die.

The desert sands already began to bury them.

Swordeater grabbed onto him. Frightened perhaps. Pushing and pulling with desperation. A faint few words were lost in the raging gusts.

If they were last words, at least he could hear them out. He shifted closer.

“Leave me…”

That pissed him off even more.

With an angry, guttural groan he forced himself up. He hoisted Swordeater over his shoulders. He used the momentum to toss himself forwards. Screaming against the raging winds.

He wouldn't die to the desert. He wouldn't die from saving someone. Not from the sands he commanded. Not subjugated and brought down onto his knees. Never. Never again,-

He fell down the dune. Lost Swordeater. Disoriented, aching. Slammed against a stone wall. Pressed his hands against it as if to make sure it was real.

He grabbed the rope and crawled closer. Found a human body. His fingers clasped Swordeater's cloak and dragged him to the wall. He felt his way along the stone. Looking,- hoping for a gate. A nook. Somewhere to hide.

The wall fell away. He stumbled into whatever it was. Pulled Swordeater beside him and flung his cloak around both of them.

Only then did he realise they were both breathing rapidly. He gasped against the man's shoulder through his veil. 

The storm couldn't pummel him with the full force of its rage. It tried, but underneath his cloak and hidden away the gales were bearable.

He raised one of his hands and blindly felt around for his light-maker. He grabbed the silver wand tightly and tried to focus. The fear and exhaustion made it difficult. Come on. Work,- light up! A flash of white sprung between the two prongs. It flickered and struggled, but even that was enough to make out shapes.

Swordeater's chest heaved. His eyes didn't meet his. The slight bit of skin exposed was pale, beading with sweat. His abdomen was covered in dark liquid.

No,- not like this. I saved you!

Desperate to stop the bleeding, he took off his gloves and pushed hard against the wound. Swordeater groaned. He didn't stop – even when he knew there was no reason to continue.

That wasn't true. He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against Swordeater's trembling shoulder.

"Don't you dare die on me." He let out a groan in sheer frustration. Stubborn; stupid; kind; none of them were good reasons to feel this way. But they were reasons nonetheless. "Not after all this."

He raised his head and looked at Swordeater.

"You're not going to die." With one hand he grabbed the back of his head and shook him. "I'm not letting you!"

He held on to his gloves. Pressed down with nothing but sheer body weight. He was too tired to do anything else. The light flickered out.

He kept holding on. Listening – Swordeater gasped hastily.

Keep breathing. I lost everything already…