They flew across the sands, short pillars propelling them through the air in rapid bursts. Sand stung his face from the occasional cloud blowing through air, He scanned the desert for the machair, squinting his eyes to keep the sand out of them. The mundee fruit had vanished in a couple of minutes, and the juices still dried on their chins. The remaining fruit was tucked away in his pack, and he was ready to defend it with his life.
"That doesn't look good." Diargo said in a worried tone, his head angled slightly to the left.
A sandstorm was moving quickly, towering over the land like the Siliaph mountains. It tore across the sand dunes, devouring everything in sight, like an impenetrable tsunami.
"We need to find the Machari before that storm does."
Diargo grunted in agreement and picked up the pace. With the direction they were going now, it wouldn't be long before they collided with the sandstorm. He glanced at it again and watched the constant churning of the sand in the wind. The ominous slow march of nature devouring itself always filled him with a sense of awe and dread. Diargo suppressed a shudder, the Trykoori fear only nature itself. He was grateful when Valor patted him on the neck.
"That herd over there doesn't seem to be in a big rush." Valor tapped the right side of Diargo's neck.
Up ahead was a pack of Sand horns, close to five dozen in number. They watched as the males lumbered around the outside of the pack, surrounding the much smaller females in the center. Most of the Sand horn bulls were bigger than Diargo, and in the right situation could be just as deadly. They were highly respected members of the Kypeeran ecosystem, sentient Beasts whose kind was found among the legendary tribes of Domhain. Occasionally they were seen in the race, though they liked to keep their distance from the humans.
"That storm won't bother them" Diargo said, and then cried a greeting to the herd, a crude impression of their welcome call. "Maybe they're going to their burrows. We could follow them, perhaps they would offer us shelter."
The sand horns swung their heavy heads to look at Diargo soaring by their seven horns on their head gleaming in the sun. They opened their mouths and bugled back, a loud greeting that rumbled across the air. Their hides were a dull grey, made of thick skin that was practically impenetrable. They stared at them with two sets of eyes, the larger of two was set was behind a transparent casing, a lens that offers protection from sand so they could still see in the worst storms.
"Not unless you want to go digging for the Machari when the storm settles." Valor said, watching the great mammals lumber on, dragging their scaly tail behind them.
Diargo begrudgingly admitted that Valor was right, and he ruefully watched the Bulls start to dig, they wouldn't risk the females getting lost in the storm. The Trykoori bellowed one last call and continued on his way, listening with satisfaction when the Sand horns bugled in return.
"It's a good thing they like you, I don't think you could outrun one."
Diargo snorted indignantly, "It wouldn't even be a competition."
He smiled and watched the great beasts casually set up camp as they dug deep burrows.
He was jealous of their indifference to the storm, which was fast approaching and hungry to swallow them whole.
"Valor, I'm going to need to make us a shelter, we won't be able to breath in there."
The sand around them was starting to get kicked up, and he tightened his grip on Diargo's neck in frustration.
"If we won't be able to breathe, then neither will the machari!"
The Trykoori shook his head, the wall of sand was almost right on them. "Maybe he found shelter, he could be in an old sand horn burrow, or maybe a cave."
Valor clenched his jaw, something in him was telling him that wasn't true, that the Machari needed them. His galden pulsed in his heart, and he took that as confirmation.
"He'll die Di, we need to find him."
Diargo let his lips curl back, it was impossible to argue.
The storm hit hard; the force of its wind knocking the great Beast clean off his feet. Valor clung to his neck for dear life, knowing that separation could be fatal. The Trykoori dug his feet into the sand trying desperately to hold his ground against the wind. His eyes were slits, barely open to avoid being blinded. He didn't dare open his mouth, afraid that the sand would suffocate him the moment he did so. He could feel Valor's face buried in his neck, shielding his eyes and mouth.
"I can't… breathe." Diargo nostrils were already caked with sand. He wasn't getting enough air.
"He won't make it."
"We won't make it." Diargo was starting to panic. Everywhere he looked was a solid wall of sand and dust. For all he knew, they were travelling in circles. Doomed to walk the same few steps until the sand filled his lungs.
Valor let out a scream of frustration that was completely muffled by his friend's coarse fur. "Fine," Valor's voice was bitter, "Do it"
Almost immediately translucent crystal walls rose from the ground and surrounded them. They moved with the fluidity of rushing water, the same bluish white tint that the Trykoori had protruding out of his own back. In a matter of seconds, they were encased in a crystal dome, completely cutting them off from the hellscape. The silence was deafening, and he could his own blood rushing in his ears. He sat down with a sigh, sick to his stomach at the thought of the machari suffering while they were safe.
"Valor, I've never seen a storm this bad."
With a grim nod he stared through the crystal walls, desperately trying to see a sign of anything. It was impossible, the visibility through the crystal was practically non-existent, regardless of the opaque weather.
Yet for some reason he swore that he could see the shadow of a figure, "I see him!"
Diargo was still blowing sand out of his nostrils, so he responed with a distracted, "huh?"
"The Machari! I see him, he's there." He was shouting at this point, frantically pointing at whatever shape he thought he saw.
"That's impossible. You can't even see your own hand in this storm Valor, there's nothing there!" But he hesitated, he could feel it how adamant the human was in his mind.
"Let me out, Di, we can save him!"
Diargo let out a loud snort, "Absolutely not, there's nothing there, you can't see-"
"I can feel him there, please, let me out." Valor stared up at his friend, unflinching from the intense amber gaze.
Without a word, the Beast placed the palms of his hands on the sand, and a moment later a small opening was formed in the crystal wall. The howling returned immediately, and sand flew into their shelter. He dove through the opening, fighting like a rabid animal against the wind that ripped at his clothes, skin, and hair. The wind was so powerful for a moment he felt himself go weightless as it lifted him a couple inches off the ground. It was terrifying but he ignored it, focusing instead on the excruciating burn he felt on his face, using that as anchor against the panic that threatened to take over.
The galden pulsed in his heart.
Valor stumbled forward, blind to anything in front of him. He waved his arms, hoping he would simply feel the body of the Mahari. Another pulse, right in front of him. So strong he felt his heart skip a beat and for a moment his galden brought clarity. He knew he was there, but with growing certainty it became clear that it wouldn't really matter. He couldn't breathe, his lungs were screaming…
Another pulse, and he cried out in relief when he realized he had found him. He stumbled forward and collapsed at the man's pitiful shape. As he fell in front of the Machari everything stopped. The pain, the noise, the constant pushing and pulling of the wind. He was able to rub the sand from his eyes and crack them open. The masked man was seated cross legged, his eyes closed. Surrounding the two of them was a bubble of calm air. A miraculous sanctuary from the storm. The Machari's eyes flew open and locked with on his own.
"Thank the Alpha…" His voice sounded hollow, and his eyes looked lost, as if he was just waking up from a deep sleep. "My galden, it won't last much longer."
Valor opened his mouth to say something but coughed violently, he could feel sand grating his throat. "Your galden is…" Another violent cough, sand spewing from his mouth. "Your galden is doing this?"
The machari nodded his head, his voice sounding sad, "I'm afraid we have a couple of minutes at best."
Sweat was dripping from the man's forehead, his spiky black and white hair slicked back from the moisture.
Suddenly the pocket of air vanished, their shelter evaporated in thin air. The storm ripped through them with a malicious savagery, avenging the time lost when they were protected. As sudden as it vanished, the air pocket returned, the wind's gone once more.
"I was wrong… we have much, much less time." The Machari looked pale, his eyes seemed more and more out of focus.