As the tenuous threads of belief unraveled, Sekhmet released her grip, allowing the lioness of healing to drift away from the verdant embrace of the oasis. The air, thick with the scent of miracles, lured more than thirty souls to trail behind the departing lioness. They came with fervent whispers of devotion, voicing desires to serve as acolytes, priests, and devout followers.
Among the throng were those of pure heart, their spirits touched by genuine conversion. Yet, shadows lurked as well; schemers and opportunists cloaked in the guise of piety, their eyes alight with the gleam of personal gain gleaned from the promise of miraculous powers. Undisturbed by the burgeoning crowd, the lioness paid them no heed. With a swift shake of her mane, she vanished into the shifting sands of the desert, leaving behind a trail of disillusioned would-be followers.
They trudged back to the oasis, spirits dampened by the desert's relentless heat.