The Wizard Jasir al-Malik — Bearer of the Burning Sands

 

The gates of the desert kingdom groaned open slowly.

Torchlight flickered across towering sandstone walls while armored guards shouted in a language carried away by the desert wind. The city stood like a golden fortress against the endless dunes  but the trio was still far from safety.

Behind them, the enemy army had recovered.

Warriors surged forward once more through collapsing sands and shattered dunes while enemy mages unleashed streaks of fire and shadow into the night. Above the battlefield, Tsukishiro’s shadow crows battled dark spirits conjured by the pursuing sorcerers, turning the sky into a storm of feathers and black magic.

And beneath it all

the Dune Devourer was breaking free.

The desert cracked violently behind them as the colossal beast roared beneath the sands, its glowing eyes moving closer with terrifying speed.

Roan looked back in horror.

“It’s gaining on us!”

Azhar’s breathing had become heavier.

Even for him, controlling this much desert magic was exhausting. Sweat rolled beneath his face scarf while glowing runes flickered weakly around his hands.

Then one of the enemy mages appeared directly ahead.

A tall figure in bronze armor emerged atop a dune, blocking their path. Purple fire spiraled around his curved blade as more warriors climbed the ridge behind him.

“You trespass in cursed lands,” the mage hissed. “Kneel, outsiders.”

Roan raised his sword nervously.

Tsukishiro’s crows gathered overhead.

But Azhar stepped forward first.

The sand mage slowly lowered one hand toward the ground.

His shadow stretched unnaturally across the dunes beneath the moonlight.

Then it moved on its own.

Roan froze.

The darkness beneath Azhar peeled upward from the sand like liquid smoke. Slowly, a figure emerged from it  human-shaped, silent, wrapped entirely in black assassin robes that fluttered without wind.

It looked like Azhar.

A younger version of him.

Lean. Deadly. Hollow-eyed.

Its face was hidden beneath a dark veil, but silver eyes gleamed from the shadows beneath the hood.

The enemy warriors hesitated instinctively.

Even Tsukishiro watched carefully.

The shadow assassin carried no visible weapons.

It didn’t need them.

Azhar’s voice became quiet.

“Qarin…”

The assassin vanished.

Not ran.

Vanished.

One heartbeat it stood beside Azhar.

The next

the enemy mage’s throat exploded in blood.

The shadow assassin reappeared behind him silently as the body collapsed into the sand.

Chaos erupted instantly.

The warriors charged.

Qarin moved like living darkness.

It twisted between blades effortlessly, striking with inhuman precision. Bones shattered beneath its hands. Throats were cut before enemies even saw movement. Whenever a spear pierced its body, the assassin simply dissolved into smoke around the wound before reforming again.

It could not truly be killed.

But Azhar suddenly staggered.

Roan caught him before he fell.

“What happened?!”

Azhar gritted his teeth painfully.

A deep spear wound had appeared across his side  the exact place where Qarin had been struck moments earlier.

“The pain…” Azhar whispered. “Is shared.”

Roan looked horrified.

The shadow assassin leapt high into the air, landing atop a charging horse before snapping the rider’s neck with terrifying speed. Yet at the same moment Azhar winced sharply again, blood running down beneath his robes from wounds that technically were not his.

Tsukishiro finally understood.

“The assassin is bound to your soul.”

Azhar nodded weakly.

“My shadow… my weapon… my curse.”

Another enemy mage unleashed a blast of crimson fire directly into Qarin’s chest.

The shadow assassin exploded apart into black smoke.

Azhar dropped to one knee instantly with a cry of agony as burn marks spread across his own chest beneath his robes.

For a moment, the assassin was gone.

Only Azhar’s shadow remained stretched across the sand.

Then slowly

the darkness beneath him moved again.

Qarin rose once more from the mage’s shadow, unharmed, silver eyes glowing brighter than before.

The enemy warriors began backing away in fear.

“It cannot die…” one whispered.

“No,” Tsukishiro said softly as crows circled overhead.

“But he can.”

Azhar forced himself back to his feet despite the pain. His hands trembled slightly now, though his eyes remained sharp.

“We keep moving.”

The Dune Devourer erupted from beneath the battlefield again.

Its massive jaws swallowed entire groups of fleeing warriors as panic spread through the enemy army. The creature no longer cared who it hunted.

Everything had become prey.

Tsukishiro glided forward through the storming sands while his crows darkened the skies above them. Roan was carried once more beneath the glowing snowy owl as Azhar rode flowing currents of sand toward the kingdom gates.

Beside the sand mage

Qarin ran silently through the moonlit dunes.

Like death itself following at his heels.

And atop the walls of the desert kingdom, unseen eyes watched the four figures approach with growing alarm....

Horn blasts echoed across the sandstone walls as guards rushed into position, their spears angled downward toward the approaching trio. Above them, the city’s domes glowed faintly with protective enchantments ancient wards awakening to the presence of intruders, war, and something far worse still moving beneath the desert.

The Dune Devourer.

Its presence beneath the sands made the entire city tremble in unease.

Azhar ibn Sahir slowed his sand-current as they neared the outer terraces of the city. His breathing was uneven, but his mind was sharp calculating, mapping, remembering.

“This place…” he murmured. “I know it.”

Tsukishiro glanced at him.

Azhar’s eyes narrowed as memory surfaced like buried stone.

“I was here before the wars,” he said quietly. “Before I became what I am now.”

Roan, still floating beneath the snowy owl’s protective glow, looked down nervously. “So… this city might help us?”

Azhar shook his head once.

“It has a scroll.”

A pause.

“A royal teleportation relic. Old magic. Older than the kingdom’s current rulers. It can send us back to Iliryo.”

Tsukishiro’s expression didn’t change but his crows above him shifted, as if sensing tension tighten in the air.

“But,” Azhar continued, “it is locked in the ancient royal library. And the library is not unguarded.”

As if answering him 

the city’s bells rang.

Something had been detected.

The desert kingdom’s defenses activated fully.

From the upper terraces, armored sentinels descended silent warriors carved with glowing sigils across their armor. Behind them walked something worse: robed guardians with empty faces, each holding a staff of rotating crystal flame.

And deeper within the city 

a pulse of magic.

Powerful. Ancient. Awake.

“A wizard,” Tsukishiro said quietly.

Azhar nodded.

“The Royal Archivist. He will not let the scroll leave.”

The Wizard Jasir al-Malik .... Bearer of the Burning Sands

A low vibration trembled beneath the sands again.

The Dune Devourer was getting closer.

There was no time.

Azhar suddenly turned to Tsukishiro.

“I will need your eyes in the sky.”

Tsukishiro raised his hand slightly.

Instantly, shadow crows spread outward across the city like ink dissolving into water. They slipped through cracks in walls, windows, and air itself becoming invisible spies woven into darkness.

“They will see everything,” Tsukishiro said.

Azhar exhaled.

Then he lowered his palm to the ground.

From his shadow, the darkness rose again.

Qarin emerged.

The Shadow Assassin.

A silent, younger version of Azhar ibn Sahir deadly, focused, faceless beneath its hood. It stood waiting, as if born from intent rather than flesh.

Azhar gave a single command.

“Library. Now.”

Qarin vanished instantly into the city’s shadow network, moving across walls and rooftops without sound.

Roan swallowed hard. “It just… disappeared.”

“It is already there,” Azhar said.

Then he turned toward Tsukishiro.

“We split their attention.”

Tsukishiro understood immediately.

The crow sorcerer’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“The wizard.”

Azhar nodded.

“I will draw him out. You meet him in the open. Magic against magic. If we overwhelm him, the guards collapse.”

“And the scroll?” Tsukishiro asked.

Roan looked between them.

“I get it?” he asked, voice cracking slightly.

Azhar’s gaze shifted to him.

“No,” he said.

A pause.

“Qarin will clear a path. You follow it. Take the scroll when the wizard is distracted.”

Roan looked like he wanted to protest.

Then the snowy owl descended slightly, its glowing wings brushing him gently as if steadying his fear.

Tsukishiro added quietly, “You are faster than you believe.”

That did not make Roan feel better.

But it made him nod.

Above them, shadow crows dispersed fully into the city.

Their vision flooded Tsukishiro’s mind.

The royal library appeared.

Massive. Ancient. Protected by rotating glyph walls and floating sentinels of crystal flame.

And inside

the wizard.

Standing alone at the center of a vast circular chamber, surrounded by levitating scrolls and burning runes.

Waiting.

As if he already knew they were coming.

Tsukishiro spoke softly.

“He is ready.”

Azhar’s eyes darkened.

“Then so are we.”

The plan locked into place like a blade sliding into its sheath.

A moment later

the desert kingdom erupted into chaos.

Azhar ibn Sahir stepped forward alone, and the sand around him rose like a storm answering its master.

Tsukishiro’s shadow crows filled the skies above the city like a living eclipse.

Roan followed the hidden path carved by Qarin through the heart of the library’s defenses.

And deep inside the ancient chamber

the wizard smiled.

The battle for the scroll had already begun.