Sahel The Sandwing Novels & Stories

Médecins Sans Frontières Outpost – Mali – 3 Months Later The sandstorm howled against the makeshift hospital tent like a living thing, throwing handfuls of grit against the reinforced canvas with the persistence of desperation. Inside, the air was thick despite the industrial fans fighting a losing battle against the Saharan heat. The tent smelled of antiseptic and dust, hope and fear—the universal scent of field medicine in places the world had forgotten.

Alexander also rushed toward the island though he had no idea what was waiting for them. "It's too late!" added someone from the Chroma clan. Suddenly, the sand beneath their feet began to stir as if they had been swirled around by the wind. "Argh!" Chroma Stirling, who dashed furthest away, was the first to be affected. He was quickly enshrouded by the kinetic sand and crumpled to the ground with blood oozing from his orifices. Sheila, noticing the confused Alexander, explained, "The golden sandworm is a rare worm of the Grimalkin. Although small individually, they're formidable when attacking together. It went extinct a long time ago, so I'm surprised to see them again."

Sader spit out some blood, “I’m really disappointed,” Sagarus decided to give the defiant demon exactly what he was asking for. He went behind Sader and grabbed the second of his wings. The tormentor pulled on it, ripping it right off Sader’s back slowly and as much as it hurt, as badly as Sader wanted to scream, he made sure he didn’t, going as far as biting down on his tongue just so he wouldn’t scream. His second wing got ripped out from his back but it wasn’t enough to break Sader’s resilience.

But something told her it was something else. “This is pointless,” she growled on the second night. “Come on, back the way we came.” She twitched the reins against the horse’s tufted mane and turned him around. He seemed to like that idea; his speed increased from the steady trot to a swift canter across the shifting sands. He was eager to get out of this place too, which was odd since it was a well-known fact that sand horses preferred the kind of terrain their name implied. They had no fear of enemies when they could detect and escape them easily, even if they had any natural predators in the first place that wouldn’t gag on their naturally desiccated flesh. They had no need of water or fo

As the wings sprouted from her back, Sandro stood nearby, completely enraptured by the sight. With growing apprehension, Arabella watched as he approached her, his movements fluid and graceful, resembling a predator closing in on its prey. He loomed over her, his presence imposing and overwhelming. She fought to remain still, suppressing any flinching, determined to stand tall and meet his gaze with equal intensity.

It went and left this massive hole of pain. This gaping hole that was cold and empty. It felt like was free falling. He'd always wanted to jump out of a plane. Feel the sensation of his body propelling through space. That's what it felt like only Jules wasn't wearing a parachute. And time would stop and press repeat the second he crashed into the ground. So he had the pleasure of experiencing it all over again. Greater sadness right after great happiness.

It must be enchantment or something. When out of nowhere they heard a whoosh of the leaves in the wind. Whoever prowled there had a hunter's skill for blending into the natural background. Catherine suddenly summons her fire and without a doubt, it alerted her inner fire. They heard a soft growling. The fiery glow of eyes reflecting the firelight from Catherine's outreach hand. Pair of eyes, all around them. About five. The biggest male creature trudged and glided out behind the tree. It concentrated on Catherine, seeming to recognize it's equal. Catherine speculated that it may be related to the storm of sand as it appears from nowhere, yet they emerge in shadowy ghosts-like with no individ

"Ayasu, whatever you have planned, now would be a good time to do it." The scaly avian spread the leathery wings wide. Aurelia knew the winged menace desired to reclaim the advantage. A few words from Ayasu and the swirling vortex of stone and pebbles flew at Kongamato at an intense speed. The stones tore through the thin membrane with ease. The reptilian bird tried to take to the air but slammed against the ground once more. The shredded wings refused to carry the body from the ground. "Now Sahiri together," Aurelia raised her blade and charged forward. Sahiri followed suit Partisan aimed at the beast's spine.

"Why?" "There's news circulating here that there are many Vuldus left all over the continent, especially here near Flavia and Ab-Nala. If you're going to the capitol, avoid Ribo. It's safer if you're away from the Sahara. We're also leaving Flavia. We're just waiting for you." "Vuldus? What Vuldus?" "Sand Pirate. Desert Pirate. That's just what they're called, Vuldus. Sand pirates." "Oh."

​The transition from the coastal humidity of Lagos to the dry, searing expanse of the Sahel was brutal. Within twenty-four hours of their drop down the penthouse spine, Lyra and her family had traded the luxury of Victoria Island for a battered, retrofitted transport truck tracking the ancient trade routes north through Mali toward the deep Sahara. ​The truck’s cabin smelled of diesel fuel, dust, and sweat. Outside, the landscape was an endless, undulating ocean of orange sand and cracked clay, shimmering under a sun that felt heavy enough to crush the chassis.