The group returned to the temporary settlement. Fires flickered softly in the dusk and the survivors had finally begun settling into the earthen shelters Marie built earlier.
Sahrin, the mortal woman, bowed to the group before slipping away to rejoin her younger brother, Khasari.
Lucien watched her retreating figure before shifting his gaze across the settlement.
The Desert Folk Race was a striking sight up close.
Their skin was dark and grain-flecked like weathered stone. Their bodies are lean and long-limbed, built for heat and endurance.
Around their arms and backs curled faint dune-patterns that shifted faintly like living ink. In truth, these patterns could be peeled away and used as tools or weapons.
Even their steps were unnaturally light. They barely left footprints on the sand at all.
The Celestial Proxy began to move among them, asking soft questions with a calmness that invited trust.
He listened to their broken recollections. He pieced their memories together.
