Sand Sea scrolls

 

In the scorched dominions beneath the ancient Baalanian Empire, there is one name spoken only in whispers: Jasir al-Malik, the immortal Royal Archivist of forbidden knowledge. Though centuries old, he appears no older than thirty  tall, elegant, and unnervingly calm. Legends say he traded his aging soul to the desert spirits buried beneath the black pyramids of the southern dunes.  In one of the empire’s Kingdom's sacred royal library, Jasir became consumed by forbidden texts hidden beneath the catacombs.

The desert kingdom ignited into war.

Not a war of steel alone but of living magic tearing through ancient stone.

At the outer terraces, Tsukishiro’s shadow crows flooded the sky like a collapsing night. They dove between floating crystal sentinels, ripping through their glowing cores with razor precision. Every time a sentinel shattered, its light scattered into harmless sparks across the sandstone walls.

Below them, Azhar ibn Sahir stood at the center of a rising storm.

The desert obeyed him completely now.

Sand spiraled upward in massive rotating pillars, forming walls, serpents, and crushing waves that slammed into the royal defenses. Armored guardians charged through the storm only to be swallowed whole by shifting dunes that turned solid beneath their feet like living traps.

But then

the library doors opened.

And the Evil Wizard stepped out.

He did not rush.

He did not shout.

He simply walked forward, and reality around him bent.

Scrolls floated behind him in orbit, burning with ancient sigils. His staff long, black,(BBC yarn? charot!) and crowned with rotating rings of lightstruck the ground once.

The entire sandstorm paused.

Not stopped.

Paused.

Azhar narrowed his eyes.

“So you are the one who binds the city.”

The wizard tilted his head slightly.

“And you are the one who thinks the desert belongs to him.”

Then the duel began.

The ground beneath them shattered.

Azhar struck first.

A colossal wave of sand surged forward like a tidal wall meant to crush everything in its path. The wizard raised one hand and the sand froze mid-air, suspended like glass.

With a flick of his fingers

it reversed.

The entire wave collapsed backward toward Azhar at impossible speed.

Azhar barely dodged, sliding through shifting dunes as the sand detonated behind him.

Tsukishiro saw it instantly from above.

“This is not normal magic,” he murmured.

The wizard raised his staff again.

Lightning screamed downward.

Tsukishiro responded with a wave of his hand.

Shadow crows surged upward into the lightning, absorbing it, breaking it into fragments of black and gold that rained harmlessly into the desert.

But the wizard was not alone.

The sentinel guardians reformed.

Dozens more.

Crystalline warriors descended like falling stars, cutting through the battlefield toward Tsukishiro and Azhar.

Azhar exhaled sharply.

Then he changed.

His hands sank into the sand.

And something deeper awakened.

Blue flame erupted beneath his palms.

Not fire born of heat

but of pressure, memory, and pain.

The desert itself turned azure.

The sand ignited into glowing blue infernos that burned without consuming. Waves of sapphire flame surged outward, melting the sentinels midair before they could reach him. Their crystal bodies shattered into glowing dust.

Roan, hidden within the chaos of the city’s lower corridors, stumbled through collapsing hallways guided by Qarin.

The Shadow Assassin moved ahead silently, cutting down guards before they could even sound alarms. Each strike was clean, efficient too fast for human eyes to follow.

Roan slipped on debris.

A blade flashed toward him

Qarin appeared instantly, intercepting it with bare hands, snapping the attacker’s arm backward with a sickening crack before vanishing again into shadow.

Roan stared, breathing hard.

“I really don’t like this place,” he whispered.

Meanwhile

above the city

the battle of gods escalated.

The Evil Wizard finally raised both hands.

The sky itself bent.

A massive sphere of compressed magical force formed overhead, distorting the air like a collapsing star. Tsukishiro’s shadow crows were torn apart as reality itself began to fracture.

Azhar’s blue flames flickered.

For the first time he staggered.

The wizard smiled.

“You are powerful,” he said calmly. “But still finite.”

Azhar’s knees dipped slightly into the sand.

Tsukishiro saw it immediately.

“Azhar is losing balance…”

The snowy owl descended like a comet.

Its radiant wings flared open, releasing a wave of holy light that collided with the wizard’s distortion sphere. The impact cracked the spell slightly but not enough.

The wizard turned his gaze upward.

And for a moment

the owl faltered under his stare.

Tsukishiro moved instantly.

White fabric erupted from his sleeves endless flowing cloth imbued with sealing magic. It spiraled through the air like living ribbons, wrapping around Azhar’s body.

“Tsukishiro!” Azhar started.

But the crow sorcerer didn’t hesitate.

The fabric yanked.

Azhar was pulled out of the collapsing battlefield just as another magical explosion detonated where he stood moments before.

Tsukishiro glided through the air effortlessly, as if the wind itself carried him, holding Azhar in the flowing white seals while crows formed a protective vortex around them.

The wizard noticed too late.

His attention snapped downward.

Inside the library

Roan reached the inner vault.

Qarin was already there.

Silent.

Standing over fallen guardians.

In its hand

a golden, ancient scroll pulsing with teleportation magic.

Roan stared at it.

“That’s it…”

Qarin turned slightly, as if confirming.

Outside, the wizard’s focus wavered for the first time.

Tsukishiro saw it immediately.

“Now,” he whispered.

The owl dove again, striking the wizard with a burst of radiant force that disrupted his spell long enough for Tsukishiro to retreat fully from the battlefield.

He soared across the sky, carrying the exhausted Azhar wrapped in glowing white bindings.

Below them

Roan emerged from the library exit, clutching the scroll tightly.

Qarin vanished back into Azhar’s shadow as soon as the group reconvened.

The wizard’s roar echoed across the city.

Too late.

The trio gathered on a high sandstone terrace as the desert kingdom burned behind them in collapsing magic.

Azhar dropped to one knee, breathing heavily, blue flame fading from his hands.

Roan held up the scroll.

“We… we actually got it.”

Tsukishiro looked toward the horizon.

The Dune Devourer was still coming.

And the wizard was not defeated.

But for now

they had a path home.

Tsukishiro’s crows circled above them slowly, like a warning.

“This is not over,” he said quietly.

And the desert answered with a distant, rising roar beneath the sand.

The desert kingdom shook with fury.

High above its burning terraces, the Evil Wizard stood amid shattered crystal and collapsing sigils his calm finally broken. The floating scrolls around him scattered violently as raw rage twisted his magic.

“They escaped,” he hissed.

The sky darkened. 

With a violent gesture, he slammed his staff into the ground.

The sand answered with a scream.

From the dunes below, shapes began to rise jackal-like creatures formed of cursed sand and bone, their eyes burning with pale green fire. They moved in packs, fast and merciless, tearing across the city ruins as the wizard’s voice echoed behind them.

“BRING THEM BACK TO ME.”

Across the collapsing terraces, the trio was already running.

Roan clutched the ancient scroll tightly, its surface pulsing with unstable teleportation energy. Azhar stumbled beside him, still weakened from the blue flame backlash, while Tsukishiro moved ahead like drifting moonlight, shadow crows spiraling overhead as they intercepted incoming jackal beasts.

But there were too many.

The cursed creatures poured through the streets.

Qarin, Azhar’s shadow assassin, moved without hesitation.

It became a blade of living darkness.

It cut through the jackal creatures with flawless precision, every movement silent, every strike lethal. For a brief moment, it held them back alone buying seconds, not minutes.

Then

a jackal king, larger than the rest, lunged through the swarm.

It struck Qarin directly.

The shadow assassin shattered into smoke.

Silence fell for half a heartbeat.

Azhar froze.

A sharp pain tore through his body as Qarin collapsed back into his shadow, reforming within him once again like a wound returning home.

Roan stared in horror.

“Azhar!”

Azhar clenched his teeth, breathing heavily.

“It’s fine,” he said through pain. “It returned.”

But his voice betrayed him.

Tsukishiro looked back once.

“We don’t have more time.”

The wizard’s roar echoed behind them as the sky cracked with more summoning magic.

They reached the final terrace.

A broken archway of ancient stone stood there half collapsed, half still humming with forgotten enchantment.

Roan stepped forward, shaking, holding the scroll up.

“This… this is it, right?”

Tsukishiro nodded.

“Yes.”

Azhar looked back at the city one last time.

The jackal creatures were almost upon them.

The wizard himself was approaching now, hovering above the dunes, his rage visible even from a distance.

“Do it,” Azhar said quietly.

Roan hesitated only a second

then unrolled the scroll.

Light exploded outward.

A massive circular portal tore open in the air, swirling with memories of Iliryo sky, stone, and distant echoes of their original battlefield.

But the jackals were already lunging.

Tsukishiro moved instantly.

His white fabric burst outward again, wrapping around Roan and pulling him back just as a creature snapped inches from his face. Roan yelped as he was yanked toward Tsukishiro.

“Stay close,” Tsukishiro said calmly.

Azhar tried to step forward

another jackal leapt at him.

But before it struck

Qarin reappeared one last time from his shadow.

It intercepted the attack, dissolving into a final violent burst of darkness that scattered the creature apart.

Then

it did not return.

Not immediately.

Only silence remained for a breath.

Azhar felt it.

Then he nodded once.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The shadow was already gone.

Inside him.

Resting.

The portal widened.

Behind them, the Evil Wizard screamed in fury as he reached the edge of the collapsing city.

Too late.

Tsukishiro raised his hand.

Shadow crows flooded the sky one final time, forming a massive storm that blocked the wizard’s vision and tore apart incoming jackal beasts midair.

“GO,” Tsukishiro said.

Roan grabbed Azhar’s arm.

Azhar hesitated only once

then stepped through.

Tsukishiro followed immediately after, his crows holding the line until the very last second.

And then

he turned.

The wizard was right there at the edge of the dunes.

But the portal was already closing.

Tsukishiro looked at him once.

No anger.

No triumph.

Just understanding.

Then he stepped through.

The portal sealed with a thunderous flash of light.

Silence returned to the desert kingdom.

Only the Evil Wizard remained, standing alone amid ruined stone and fading sand magic, his fury swallowed by the emptiness of failure.

Elsewhere

far away in another sky

the world cracked open again.

And Tsukishiro, Azhar ibn Sahir, and Roan fell back into Iliryo.

They landed in familiar dust and broken stone.

The same war-torn land they had left behind.

But now it felt different.

Quieter.

Far away, the echoes of another world faded like a dream that refused to fully disappear.

Roan lay on the ground, breathing hard, still holding the empty memory of fear.

Azhar slowly stood, pain lingering but alive.

Tsukishiro looked at the sky.

His crows returned to him one by one.

The snowy owl circled once above them, then settled into calm light.

For now

the war in the desert kingdom was over.

But none of them believed it was truly finished.

Not yet.

And somewhere beyond worlds…

something was still watching.

Nights in the sands

  

Tsukishiro the crow sorcerer , Azhar ibn Sahir the sand mage and Roan the red head squire were fighting along side their friends an army of a middle eastern warriors then a middle eastern demon in  Alt Liryo one of the kingdoms of Iliryo. Three of them separated from their friends.

The sun bled crimson across the dunes of Alt Liryo.

Once a proud and green lush southern kingdom on the edge of Kingdoms of Iliryo, Alt Liryo now burned beneath war banners and demonic fire. Ancient sandstone citadels cracked beneath siege engines while storm clouds swirled unnaturally overhead, black as bruises. The air smelled of blood, ash, and scorched incense.

Upon the shattered battlefield stood three unlikely warriors.

Tsukishiro, the Crow Sorcerer, moved like a ghost among slaughter.

His pale face remained calm beneath strands of long black hair whipping in the desert wind. Elegant white robes flowed untouched by dust, though death swarmed around him in endless spirals of black feathers. Hundreds of magical crows screamed through the sky like living blades, tearing armored riders from horseback and clawing out the eyes of screaming warriors.

Above him glided a radiant snowy owl.

Its enormous white wings shone with holy light that cut through smoke and darkness alike. Arrows shattered against its glowing feathers. Curses dissolved before reaching Tsukishiro’s body. Whenever enemy sorcerers hurled fire or shadow magic toward him, the owl answered with flashes of silver brilliance that burned the corruption away.

The soldiers of Atl Liiryo called the spirit owl The Moon of Heaven.

The enemies called it a nightmare.

Beside Tsukishiro stood Azhar ibn Sahir, the Sand Mage of the southern deserts.

Gold rings gleamed across his fingers as he thrust both hands into the air. The dunes themselves answered his rage.

The earth erupted.

Towering waves of sand crashed into charging cavalry, swallowing horses whole. Giant serpents formed from swirling grains burst upward from beneath enemy ranks, wrapping around screaming warriors before crushing armor like brittle clay. Storms spiraled around Azhar’s body, his flowing desert robes whipping violently as glowing runes ignited beneath his feet.

“THE DESERT REMEMBERS!” Azhar roared in Arabic.

The battlefield obeyed him.

Then there was Roan.

Young. Freckled. Terrified.

The red-haired squire could barely keep hold of his shield as warriors thundered toward him through smoke and chaos. His leather armor was cracked and stained from battle, his short sword chipped from blocking blows too heavy for someone his age.

Yet he stood.

Again and again.

A curved blade crashed toward Tsukishiro’s back 

Roan intercepted it with his shield.

The impact nearly shattered his arm.

Another warrior lunged at Azhar through the storming sands

Roan tackled the attacker into the dirt before stabbing wildly in panic.

He was no legendary hero.

Not yet.

But among monsters and sorcerers, the frightened boy refused to run.

All around them, Middle Eastern war drums thundered through the desert ruins as thousands of armored warriors surged forward beneath black banners. Spears glittered beneath the dying sun. Horses screamed. Steel collided against steel while explosions of magical energy lit the battlefield in flashes of gold, black, and silver.

Then the demon appeared.

It rose from the broken gates of  Alt Liryo like something clawing its way out of Hell itself.

Twenty feet tall.

Skin blackened like volcanic stone.

Its eyes burned molten gold beneath a crown of twisted horns. Chains hung from its arms, dragging burning hooks through the sand. Every footstep caused the earth to rot and crack beneath it.

The armies stopped.

Even seasoned warriors backed away in fear.

The demon smiled.

Then it spoke a single word in an ancient tongue.

The world split open.

A shockwave of dark magic exploded across the battlefield, tearing soldiers apart and hurling bodies through the air. Tsukishiro’s crows scattered violently. Azhar’s sandstorms collapsed instantly. Roan was thrown backward across shattered stone.

The snowy owl shrieked.

Light burst outward protectively around the trio

But the demon raised its hand.

Reality twisted.

The battlefield vanished.

For one impossible moment, Tsukishiro saw endless darkness filled with floating eyes.

Azhar heard whispers beneath the sand.

Roan felt like he was falling forever.

Then

Silence.

Heat.

Wind.

The three awoke buried halfway in crimson desert sands beneath an unfamiliar sky.

No armies.

No ruins of Alt Liryo.

No demon.

Only endless dunes stretching toward black mountains in the distance.

Three moons hung above the desert.

Roan slowly lifted his head, coughing sand from his mouth.

“...where are we?”

Tsukishiro looked upward silently.

Even his crows seemed afraid.

Azhar’s expression darkened beneath his face scarf as ancient symbols carved into nearby stones glowed faintly beneath the moonlight.

He recognized them.

And that terrified him.

“This,” Azhar whispered carefully, “is not our world.”

Far away across the dunes

Something enormous moved beneath the sand.

The dunes exploded.

A massive creature burst upward from beneath the crimson sands, scattering rock and dust high into the moonlit sky. Around it surged warriors clad in black desert armor, their curved blades reflecting the pale light of the three moons. They rode lean horses draped in crimson cloth, chanting in a language none of the three recognized.

Roan stumbled backward in panic.

“There’s hundreds of them!”

“More,” Azhar said grimly.

The warriors spread across the dunes like a tidal wave of steel.

Then the arrows came.

Tsukishiro moved first.

His white robes fluttered as he stepped forward almost soundlessly, and the darkness around him erupted into wings.

CAW!

Thousands of black crows burst into the air.

The flock became a storm.

Arrows vanished inside swirling feathers before falling harmlessly into the sand. The crows descended upon the charging warriors like living shadows, clawing faces, ripping eyes, tearing riders from their saddles. Men screamed as black wings consumed them in violent spirals.

Tsukishiro lifted one pale hand.

The flock obeyed instantly.

Half the crows condensed into spear-like streams of darkness and shot across the battlefield, piercing through enemy lines with terrifying precision.

Yet still the warriors kept coming.

“Too many,” Tsukishiro said quietly.

Azhar slammed both palms into the sand.

The desert answered with fury.

The ground rippled outward like water before erupting into colossal waves of swirling sand. Entire rows of warriors vanished beneath the dunes. Horses were dragged screaming underground as giant sand serpents rose from beneath them, coiling around armored bodies and crushing them with thunderous force.

Azhar’s eyes glowed amber beneath his face scarf.

He swept his arm sideways.

A tornado of burning sand roared across the battlefield, flaying armor from flesh and throwing warriors high into the air. Ancient runes ignited beneath the dunes as if the desert itself recognized the sand mage as its master.

But more enemies appeared beyond the hills.

Hundreds more.

War horns echoed beneath the black sky.

Roan’s face went pale.

“We can’t fight all of them…”

Tsukishiro looked toward the distant horizon.

Far away beyond the dunes, lights shimmered faintly beneath the night.

A city.

Towering walls of sandstone and gold stood against the desert darkness like a mirage. Massive domes reflected moonlight while enormous fires burned atop watchtowers.

A kingdom hidden within the wasteland.

“We move,” Tsukishiro said.

Another wave of arrows descended.

The glowing snowy owl swept downward instantly.

Its radiant wings spread wide, unleashing a burst of silver light that shattered the incoming arrows midair. The holy glow wrapped itself around Roan’s body like flowing mist.

Before the boy could react

he rose into the air.

“WHOA!”

Roan floated helplessly as the giant owl carried him above the battlefield with supernatural grace. Its claws never touched him; magic itself held him suspended safely beneath its wings.

Below, Tsukishiro began to run.

Or at least… it looked like running.

His feet barely touched the sand.

The crow sorcerer glided across the dunes like drifting smoke, white robes flowing behind him as black crows spiraled around his body protectively. Every movement was impossibly light, as though gravity itself had loosened its grip on him.

Warriors charged to intercept him

The crows tore them apart before they could even swing their blades.

Azhar followed beside him.

The sand mage thrust one hand downward, and the dunes surged beneath his feet. A flowing current of sand lifted him forward like a moving river, carrying him across the desert at incredible speed. Serpents of sand coiled around him defensively while walls of dust erupted behind to slow their pursuers.

The enemy army thundered after them relentlessly.

Horses raced across the dunes.

Torches flickered in the dark.

War drums echoed louder and louder.

“They’re still following us!” Roan shouted from above.

“They will not stop,” Azhar answered. “Not until we are dead.”

Tsukishiro glanced back once.

In the far distance, beyond the pursuing army, he saw something even worse.

A gigantic silhouette moving beneath the dunes.

Following them.

The sand itself trembled wherever it passed.

The crow sorcerer’s calm expression darkened for the first time.

“We must reach the city before dawn.”

Ahead of them, the desert kingdom grew larger.

And atop its golden walls

thousands of figures watched their approach.

The desert kingdom loomed closer with every passing second.

Its golden walls rose from the dunes like the spine of some ancient beast, illuminated beneath the ghostly light of the three moons. Horns echoed from its towers as shadowed figures gathered along the battlements, watching the chaos unfolding across the sands.

Behind the fleeing trio, the desert had become a battlefield.

The pursuing warriors surged forward relentlessly across the dunes, joined now by enemy mages draped in black and bronze robes. Strange staffs crackled with violet fire. Some rode massive desert lizards instead of horses, their eyes glowing unnaturally beneath iron masks.

And beneath them all

something hunted.

The sand bulged in enormous waves.

A colossal shape moved below the surface, impossibly fast, circling beneath the armies and the fleeing sorcerers alike. Every few moments, entire dunes collapsed inward as though swallowed from below.

Roan looked down from beneath the snowy owl’s glowing wings and swallowed hard.

“It’s still following us…”

Azhar did not answer immediately.

Because he could feel it too.

The desert itself feared the creature beneath.

A barrage of dark magic suddenly streaked across the night sky.

“DOWN!” Roan yelled.

Tsukishiro twisted gracefully mid-glide as bolts of violet flame exploded around him. Black feathers scattered through the air while enemy mages atop the dunes raised their staffs again.

The crow sorcerer’s pale eyes narrowed.

Then he lifted two fingers.

The shadows beneath the enemy cavalry moved.

At first the warriors did not notice.

Then the sand behind them erupted into black wings.

Shadow crows burst upward by the hundreds.

Not ordinary crows.

These creatures were made entirely from darkness itself  eyes glowing silver, feathers dripping like smoke. They slammed into the enemy mages from above, clawing at faces and tearing staffs from their hands. Horses panicked instantly as the magical flock descended in shrieking waves.

One mage began chanting

A shadow crow flew directly into his mouth.

The spell died with him.

Tsukishiro swept his arm outward.

The flock split into rotating spirals that darkened the sky like living storms, confusing enemy archers and obscuring the trio’s movements beneath shifting masses of feathers.

But the enemy adapted quickly.

One of the black-robed mages slammed his staff into the ground.

A ring of fire exploded outward across the dunes.

Several shadow crows ignited instantly.

Others dissolved into smoke.

Azhar reacted at once.

The sand mage thrust both arms forward violently, and the desert rose like a tidal wave between them and the flames. Sand hardened instantly into glass beneath the heat, creating enormous crystalline walls that reflected the fire magic back toward the enemy lines.

Explosions rippled across the dunes.

Warriors screamed.

The glass shattered into razor fragments that swirled into a deadly storm.

Roan stared in awe.

“How are you doing that?!”

Azhar’s amber eyes remained fixed ahead.

“The desert teaches survival.”

Then the ground beneath them trembled violently.

Too violently.

The creature below was getting closer.

A massive fin-like shape suddenly sliced through the sand behind the pursuing army.

An instant later

the desert exploded.

Something enormous burst upward beneath the enemy cavalry.

Hundreds of warriors vanished screaming into the jaws of a colossal sand beast covered in black armored scales. Its mouth was lined with rows of glowing teeth large enough to swallow horses whole.

The pursuing army scattered in terror.

Even the enemy mages panicked.

“What IS that?!” Roan shouted.

Azhar’s voice turned grim.

“A Dune Devourer…”

The gigantic creature crashed back beneath the sand, but its glowing eyes remained visible beneath the surface, stalking everything above.

And now

it had noticed the trio.

The dunes behind them erupted again.

Tsukishiro moved instantly.

The crow sorcerer leapt impossibly high into the air, his robes billowing like white smoke. The snowy owl banked sharply with Roan while Azhar rode a surging pillar of sand sideways across the battlefield.

A split second later

the Devourer burst upward between them.

Its enormous jaws snapped shut where they had been moments before.

The sound echoed like thunder.

Tsukishiro landed lightly atop a narrow dune ridge, balancing effortlessly as shadow crows circled him in spirals.

Then he smiled faintly.

“Azhar.”

The sand mage immediately understood.

Together, they began the trap.

Tsukishiro sent his shadow crows diving low across the dunes in every direction, creating dozens of false movements. The Devourer twisted beneath the sand, confused as it chased the magical shadows.

Meanwhile Azhar quietly pressed both palms downward.

The sand beneath the battlefield softened.

Shifted.

Collapsed inward.

The enemy army didn’t realize until too late.

The dunes beneath the charging warriors suddenly gave way into massive sinkholes. Horses and soldiers tumbled screaming into deep pits while shifting sands swallowed entire groups alive.

At the same moment

Tsukishiro directed every remaining shadow crow toward one location.

The Devourer lunged upward after the swirling darkness

straight into Azhar’s trap.

The sand mage clenched both fists.

The desert hardened instantly.

Thousands of tons of sand compressed around the gigantic beast like stone chains, trapping half its body beneath the dunes. The Devourer roared loud enough to shake the night sky.

The pursuing army halted in confusion and terror.

That single moment was enough.

“NOW!” Azhar shouted.

The trio fled toward the kingdom walls at full speed.

Behind them, the trapped Devourer began breaking free.

The dunes cracked violently.

Enemy war horns sounded again.

And atop the distant city walls

the gates slowly began to open.

muscle and magic

 Gothrak the orc, the crow sorcerer and the sand mage

crow sorcerer