Sand towered as high as mountains.

The sandcraft cautiously ascended the sides of these ever-shifting ridges. Like a small insect scuttling along the flank of a lioness, always in danger of getting crushed. If the slope collapsed, or if the path proved too steep, the sands would bury them.

Sandhailer’s magic struggled to propel them along, and the going was slow. He looked for easy dunes to traverse, but the desert was ever so treacherous. Gentle slopes could easily turn into steep valleys. A few times a sandfall caught the side of the sailer, partially encasing it.

A soft rumble beset the desert. The sound was like rhythmic thunder. Distant, but nearing. Sandhailer’s eyes narrowed, and he halted the charm. As the winds fell, the thuds became clearer. Deep. Heavy.

Swordeater’s eyes had gone wide.

“What is that?” He asked, searching sky between two dunes for the signs of a storm. Sandhailer held up one hand to appease him, and the man was smart enough to follow his lead.

“Old one.” He answered, confident that it was far away enough that they could still speak. “We should hide. Don’t move too loud.”

Sandhailer carefully stepped down into the sands, which consumed him up to his ankles. Slowly he moved underneath the centre platform of the sailer. Using one hand he helped Swordeater lay down gently. The thuds had turned into loud thumping, each a few seconds apart.

Thump.

“Can it see us?” Swordeater whispered.

“I don’t know.” He answered, equally soft.

Thump.

Swordeater’s breaths hastened in response to the deafening sound. And then it was silent for agonising seconds. All he could hear were the rapid, shaking inhales. Sandhailer slowly moved his arm around the man’s shoulders and over his mouth.

“Deep breaths. No movement.” He whispered, barely audible even right next to him.

T H U M P.

The ground shook. Swordeater startled, but Sandhailer forced him to stay still. Shadow drew over them. Streams of sand rained onto the sandsailer. The granules poured through the planks onto their faces. Swordeater blinked against them, and then stared at him for help. He did not look away from the darkness above.

T H U M P. 

The side of the dune shifted from the impact. It pushed them down several inches, but then stopped. The darkness remained. Renewed streams of sand poured onto them. He closed his eyes and remained still, focussing only on breathing quietly and not moving. He loosened his grip on Swordeater’s mouth to allow him to inhale, while still preventing sand from entering his nose and mouth.

Another thump. More distant. And then another one, even further away.

The sunlight returned. No more sand fell through the planks. Swordeater wanted to move, but he kept him still.

“Not yet.” He hissed softly. “Stay calm.”

Swordeater nodded, but strained inhales belied the panic that coursed through him. He trembled – or perhaps they both did, he wasn’t certain.

Seconds passed by. 

Minutes. 

The thumping quieted to distant thuds, and only then did Sandhailer let go of Swordeater.