The Rise of Scifantor

The wind flowed slowly across the desert floor. It lapped at the grains of red sand, comforting them. The grains of sand felt safe and protected as they revelled under the soft kiss of the gentle breeze.

Suddenly the wind picked up its intensity and lashed out at the grains of sand. It picked them up and swirled them into a frenzy, creating a myriad of miniature red tornadoes. It looked as though a massive red-headed gorgon were crawling out of the desert floor.

The wind grew even stronger and smashed the grains of sand into each other, over and over again. Under this onslaught they eventually fused together. They became something else, something new.

Scifantor rose from the melee, a brute so strong it could withstand the violent outbursts of the frantic, unpredictable gale. It stood firm and showed no pleasure as the wind hurled itself against the monolith, gradually weakening itself with each blow. Battered and broken, the wind slowly withdrew. It limped away from the new being and left a peaceful calm in its wake.

As Scifantor dissembled into its constituent grains of sand, it kept a watchful eye out for the return of the breeze. The red grains of sand have learned to be wary, now.

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