The Shroud had surrounded the island for centuries. It was to a regular sandstorm what a military invasion was to a bar fight. Not just in scale, but also in organisation. The low rumble of kilotons of sand roiling just above the ocean has been a constant companion to empires, kingdoms and republics. History just passed it by. But now something was different in the roar of the storm. Sand grains were grinding against each other. Entire squadrons of gales collided. A whine of static electricity arose from the friction.
And then The Shroud began bulging inward, as if something was pushing it in. Sand banks piled up after centuries were ripped apart in seconds, surpised hermit seals got flung into the sky as the stormwinds raced inland, as if fleeing from something.
In the northwest, Khito and Rhacotis were the first hit. Razor sharp winds formed blades of sand to tear apart unprotected sails, shred tents and continue eroding the two giant pillars of rock the town was constructed around. It wasn't that unusual for arms of the storm to sweep across the island, but this wasn't the season. The citizens could feel something was off. There was a tension in the air, as electricity crackled in the sand, it felt like the heavens themselves were stretched thin. And then the tension broke:
A giant lighning strike broke the horizon, a tear in the fabric of the sky. Thunder chased, a sonic fist breaking throught the gash and striking Graund. And with it, it brought the rain. Within seconds, the dry winds were replaced by sleets of rain, revealing that it was this tempest that had pushed the Shroud towards the island.
An old man whose
bad knee could predict the weather was the first to notice. He dropped whatever he'd been carrying as he stared at the horizon. He saw a black wall of rain and storm, cut up by more lightning strikes. But something was missing. The golden band of the Shroud had a gap. The horizon had never been any other color, but now there was black, and blue, and searing white.
"The Shroud is broken!" he uttered. His words travelled at the speed of storm, forming independently in the heads of everybody who saw the open horizon.
Another thundering rumble ripped through the clouds, but this time, there was an answer. It started small, some rustling, bits of dust falling off shelves. But soon a second rumbling arose, from the ground up. As if in defiance to the storm raiding inland, the very earth began to shake. The red rocks scattering the dessert began to shift and splinter. In the giant library of Men-nefer, a red boulder broke loose from the massive roof and smashed two librarians.
Beram and Jali, at their dig site, could see the earth around them start to shift. The sands were threatening to bury them and their workers whole.
"Shore Up! This is a sign! We´re getting close, men! Keep digging!"
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Merneith, the young girl in Khito, had climbed up onto a palm tree, the trunk straining under her weight and the heavy winds. She wanted to see what change this storm would bring upon her island. There was no way a storm like this could be a good omen. She was still regretting the last time she trusted an outside influence two years ago. Her uncle was jumping up and down trying to get her to come down, but she just ignored him.
