Desert Wind

Chapter 3

***

Welifour was once a powerful, well-organized, and prosperous state. Within its walls, both sea and land trade flourished dynamically, and numerous factories operated. People lived in abundance. Great writers, painters, engineers, and above all, magicians resided in the capital. Many have forgotten, but Welifour was once the cradle of magic. It was here that the first University of Magical Arts was established, aimed at shaping new generations of outstanding healers, warriors, alchemists, and historians. The Academy changed the course of history. Welifour strengthened its position on the international stage, concluded many beneficial alliances, and, as a result, became a kind of center of the world—a holy place revered by divine cults. It was the eye through which God looked at the world. The gold, valuables, and coins amassed over the years were so abundant that a new, colossal treasury was built in the Western Mountains, surrounded by a magical barrier and secured with a seal. It was an era of gold and magic.

At that time, no one knew—or could have known—that the vast wealth and splendor were hastening the kingdom towards its twilight. Merciless and invisible at first glance. Just as every flower must wither, every puddle must dry up, and every human being must eventually die, so too must a kingdom fall. We, lowly and unworthy people, tend to forget this inevitable truth...

***

The beginning of the end started when Sultan Kahan died and the Reds seized the throne. Then everything changed. The great mountain shook from its foundations and collapsed, crushing everything under its weight and history.

At first, the changes were subtle. The Code of Forbidden Spells was established, prohibiting the use of body and earth magic, as well as black magic. The number of novice admissions at the University of Magical Sciences was reduced. Back then, no one knew how the story would unfold.

Over time, more bans and decrees followed. Mages lost all rights and could not leave the walls of the University. Their services were prohibited. Half of the teachers were expelled from the country. Riots broke out, and any attempt at resistance was bloodily suppressed. Anyone who opposed the authorities was taken to court or immediately executed.

Finally, one stormy night, the Sultan died. No one fully knew what caused his death. Various stories circulated throughout the country. It was said that it was an attack by advisers who wanted to seize the throne. Rumors claimed the monarch's body had been so desecrated it could not be identified. Another tale spoke of a monster who killed the ruler on the orders of his son, who demanded power. Lastly, there was a version suggesting the cruel Sultan, in his madness, unknowingly committed suicide. Shortly after the official funeral, where, despite tradition, the world did not see the monarch's body, the new Sultan blamed the conspiracy and murder of his father on magicians.

The gears of a vast machine began to turn. The death became an excuse to ban magic throughout the kingdom of Welifour, destroy the academy, exile all magicians, and launch crusades against them.

A dark era began. The Era of the Red Sultan, or as others call it, the Era of the Bloody Sultan.

***

I took a step forward, trying to feel for a fulcrum with my hands. All I saw was endless red smoke, irritating my eyes and skin. It was everywhere—so thick that I couldn't even see the fingers of my hand stretched out in front of me. Slowly, I took another step. My heart was pounding like crazy in my chest. The fumes were pressing in on me from all sides, making me feel like I was buried underground. I couldn't breathe. Suddenly, the toe of my shoe caught something lying on the ground, and I fell forward. I didn't have time to break my fall with my hands. Excruciating pain shot through my right forearm. I gritted my teeth as tears came to my eyes. I looked at the wound—a long scratch extending from the middle of my forearm to my elbow. When I fell, I must have run my hand over a piece of glass sticking out of the sand. I tore off a piece of fabric from my tunic and tied it over the wound. I had to pull myself together. My instincts told me to get up and run. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a large shape approaching me. I groaned and rolled to the left. At the last moment, I managed to avoid being trampled by a running man. I wanted to shout something to him, but he had already run away. Shaking, I slowly rose from the ground to my knees. My eyes burned mercilessly from the smoke. I wiped them with the back of my hand, but it only made things worse.