She felt inclined to go with her gut, but the realisation dawned on her that her gut was telling to cheat. A ghubar was a potent vessel for Shansi, the Thayne child of Fallien, but they lived on an echo, a dreamy cloud. Even those that had been awakened to their purpose, the named avatars could not truly comprehend the fact that they had died, long ago. Mordelain felt sick at the thought.

“What year were you born, Mariachi?”

Mordelain had to win. She had to make Shansi aware that she was here to help her, and not to bring wrath and ruin upon the people of Fallien once more. She had been blamed for the Vhadya, but she would prove her innocence if it was the last thing she did. After all, was it her fault that the people of Fallien had ignored her prayers, her preaching, and her words of warning? She had screamed to the heavens that the only way to save the island from the gluttony and sin of the hedonism on the banks of the Attireyi was to join with the Kalithrism, with the Void.

Suravani, the name the people of Althanas gave to the Goddess of Althanas had punished the children of the desert for their ignorance. Her will was to bond with the eight other souls that shared the Kalithrism, her will was to become one with the World Mind.

Sin had tarnished that bond.

She had screamed, a scream that Mordelain could still hear in her dreams.

The old man wrinkled his nose. There was a clear struggle on his face, as if a date were forming on the tip of his tongue. A Ghubar was unable to remember the time he had been born, at least, the time he had been born actual. Whenever a sand golem was destroyed, Shansi simply formed a new likeness, channelled the soul of the deceased back into the grains and the shards of glass that made its skeleton and sent a pulse of entanglement and illusion through the population of the desert.

Memories shifted, lives remained the same, the constant status quo kept Irrakam resplendent. The ultimate irony of the xenophobia expressed by the natives, was that only a third of the people of Fallien were people of Fallien. Only a third was human. The ghubar, though indistinguishable, made up much of the fabric of Fallien culture, from the il’Jhain to the guard of Jya’s Keep.

“What…year…were you born?” Mordelain repeated herself through clenched teeth. Her tone was menacing, dark, monstrous. Suresh’s non-chalant expression was swiftly replaced with one of disgust. He had taught Mordelain better than to be so callous with the traditions and rituals of the il’Jhain.

“Mordelain!…enough.”

“When…were…”

“Mordelain!” His deep voice barked, but it's power was dimmed by a power unseen. Something in Suresh's being was working against his natural instinct. Something was changing the machinations in his mind.

Some of the most prominent members of Fallien society were Ghubar. Suresh had been easy to find, his scent and his ability to be in so many circles without anyone ever questioning either his allegiance or his motives had been the first sign. She had cut his cheek whilst he slept through their previous night’s drinking, the trickle of sand had been the second.

The Tama did not ever suffer the effects of alcohol.