The sun had risen fully by the time they resumed their journey. The harsh light illuminated the vast expanse of sand, transforming the Shifting Sands into a sea of golden waves that rippled with the slightest breeze. The storm had reshaped the landscape entirely, erasing all familiar landmarks and leaving only a featureless, undulating desert in its wake.
As they trudged onward, the heat began to rise, the sun's rays reflecting off the sand and creating a mirage that distorted the horizon. The air shimmered, playing tricks on their eyes, and every now and then, Elara thought she saw distant shapes—trees, water, even structures—only for them to dissolve into nothingness as they drew closer.
"We need to conserve our energy," Morgana warned, her voice hoarse from the dry air. She pulled her hood over her head, shielding herself from the sun. "The heat will only get worse as the day goes on."