Some time ago
The masses were flooding the villages, pitchforks and torches in hand. Anger was in the air, so potent you could see it. The collective hate of the Bazirians was seeping into the ground. Alith's connection to the sands allowed him to sense such things. He felt a shiver down his spine. All hope for peace was lost that day. Even Bazirian children were infected with this hate and came to the "Grand Cleansing." Children came to a massacre, eager to contribute to the killing of Alith's people, screaming for death. What happened to blacken their hearts so?
The commotion woke little Alumin up. His brother was already gearing up. Alumin looked scared at the sea of fire and metal, then met his brother's gaze. His eyes were cold like steel. It was as if all of Alith's fear had turned into strength, unlike the whimpering cowardice that Alumin was so ashamed of.
"Listen to me, Al," said Alith. "Go to Mother and hide with her." As Alumin went to leave, Alith added, "Be strong." A smile was surfacing. "Brother."
Alith dashed outside. He started breathing in and out five times.
"Let it out," his mind focused. "Flow." He found his rhythm. The sand around him moved with every exhale. He was inviting the desert to aid him and his people, as it always had. His breath was in tandem with the shifts of the sand. They could hear him, but only on the exhale. Only when his breath left his body could he speak to the desert. Then, on the last exhale, he commanded the ground to propel him upward to great heights, a move Alith himself had created. The descent always thrilled him; this time was no different. He breathed quickly in and out, losing speed and landing gracefully in the middle of the mob.
He wanted the focus to be on himself, their anger directed toward someone who could handle it—at least for a while, hopefully enough for everyone to evacuate. Exhaling, he took control of the sand beneath his feet, and everyone else's. He shifted the ground, taking away the enemy's footing and propelling himself upward at the same time. Then, while he was in the air, he exhaled again and made the ground rise, trapping the enemies halfway beneath it.
He needed to move quickly. Now that he was no longer surrounded by townsfolk, he was a target for ranged attacks. He propelled himself toward the next group of enemies. Alith found it ironic that he was safer there than in the open.