You know a world is big when you can’t scan it completely.

When you stretch your senses to their limit, when you release your soul seals, and yet even then, the end cannot be seen.

When you push upwards into the Sky, and still cannot reach the sea of stars above.

When you search below, and the Deep has no limit.

That’s when you realize it.

This world is big.

There’s nothing wrong with a big world though!

Big worlds mean big meals~!

Still.

This sandstorm has been going for quite a long time now.

For safety reasons, I haven’t let anyone come out from the Leaf.

Since I don’t really, personally, have anything else to do I’ve been working on a new project.

I call it, the Glass Treehouse.

First I used Flame to melt the sand under me until I could reach a rock layer. From there I reached my roots down into the earth until I was able to hit magma.

The quality of the magma here is very nice! Good stuff!

From there I drew power up through my roots and slowly began to heat the air around me. At just the right temperature, what was circling me was no longer sand, it was superheated liquid glass. A little telekinesis here, a little tweaking of molecular structure there, and I’ve started to grow a wonderful greenhouse. The angles, edges, and shining reflections of the magma beneath me create an otherworldly glow from deep within.

Even in the most barren wasteland, I can create a Garden of unstoppable momentum!

Go me!

Super Tree!

The faster I continue crafting, the more material I require. Endlessly weaving the glass threads created by my Flame I am eating away at the unending storm.

Sand to glass.

Glass to structure.

Structure into safety.

The first year, my work is barely enough to hold a family of three.

The second year, a family of a hundred.

By the end of the first decade my Glass Treehouse is a structure that towers over the surrounding sands. Finally, there is enough space for me to work with!

Pulling the group out of the Vespar Leaf, I stare at each of them in turn.

Dryad, Wen, Mishra, Guido, Grok, S’neli. Each of them has been begging to escape to the wider world and explore. To this end I have carefully placed new Runes on everyone’s rings, granting a one-time emergency teleportation back to me.

Without much fanfare each of them uses their own particular method of transportation to depart.

Dryad has a carpet of ever-moving moss that she’s sleeping on as it departs.

Wen steps sideways into the realm of souls.

Mishra’s form ripples and vanishes, like greased lightning.

Guido and Grok depart with an enormous oxen cart caravan of barely legal goods.

S’neli drinks a strangely colored potion and waves before flickering into sparkling light.

With that, everyone has gone their own personal ways.

We’ve set the meeting time for a few millennia later.

I’m confident that such an enormous world has great potential. Although I have no real knowledge to work on, my gut feeling is this is a cultivation world.

I base that on the enormous strides I have made understanding Wind within the sandstorm itself. The storm is like a screaming voice, overlaying the quite whisper of a teacher informing the student of the secrets of the world.

If I’m correct, this world will be worth its weight in Chaos.

Reaching out, I begin the first step in my terraforming plan for the endless sands around me.

***

In a room filled with the smell of sand, the rustling of scales sounds without end. Ancient pillars of stone carved with powerful runes hold up a hall older than most races, with the exception of the elves, or elementals.

Within the Ancient Deep Sands, court is being held.

“The glass is growing at a rate that will engulf our territory before long, I beseech the great Lizard King for aid!” says a bowing noble courtier who grovels below the golden throne.

Sitting on the golden throne, the rare blue scaled Lizardman ponders deeply in thought. As the King of the Deep Sands, he has ruled his nation for centuries, carefully maintaining a balance against those who would attempt to plunder their ancient founder’s treasury.

The Lizard King Szzok turns to his nearby spymaster, “Is there any further word from the Maelstrom?”

“Nothing, sire.” the green scaled spymaster, Lazon states, “The glass grows at a rapid pace now. Where before it was merely a finger in the storm, it is quickly starting to devour it.”

“Without the Maelstrom…” the king shudders as the scepter in his left hand shakes. His gold woven blue royal robes do little to conceal his fear.

“Without the Maelstrom, the Deep Worms will be able to exit from their spawning pits. Within a year there will be nothing left in the sands alive.” Lozan said, his voice filled with calm terror.

The Deep Worms had always been held at bay through the power of the Maelstrom placed by the Ancient One in ages past. A force that could devour the Maelstrom was something that could only be a threat to the Sand Kingdom. Even worse, it was apparently unravelling the ancient magic that held the storm together. Without the sandstorm to shred the Worms apart when they attempted to exit their spawning pools, there was nothing stopping the creatures from eating every living creature of the sands.

“Has anyone been able to explore the construct?” Szzok asked, tapping a clawed finger on his golden throne. “Glass does not simply appear from thin air.”

The leader of the Royal Guards approaches, and kneels, “We have sent several teams of adventurers into the Glass Palace. According to them, the inside is a massive garden with many species of never before seen plants, animals, and insects.”

“A dungeon?” Szzok says, his voice shocked.

“Possible, however there has never been a dungeon that doesn’t dig deeper. This may be the work of an elemental, or even another race.” the Royal Guard Captain says, his voice grim.

Lazon’s tongue licks the air before he says, “Other than humans, there couldn’t possibly be another race stupid enough to unplug the passage the Deep Worms would use to kill all life on our planet!”

“It could be intervention from a lower plane, or a screw up from a wizard.” Szzok says, his tone angry. “I haven’t forgotten the last time those filthy magic users threw their failed experiment into the Deep Sands.”

All the lizardmen around hissed in anger. The last time a magic user had thrown an experiment into the Endless Desert they had created the Deep Worms. As such, magic users other than the shamans who worked exclusively with spirits were forbidden to enter the Desert on pain of death.

With a silent flicker, a blue scaled shaman appeared on the opposite side of Lazon.

Szzok turned to his magical advisor with interest, “My king, I think we are making more of this than needed. Whoever constructed the Glass Palace clearly is here to stay. I doubt they will allow a horde of rampaging Deep Worms through the territory they claim.” Tzzok stated with a deep bow to show off her scales.

Szzok pondered before waving his hand for everyone to depart. Once the scents died in the throne room, he stepped down from the golden throne. Turning, he moved to stare into the endless abyss behind the throne.

Within the darkness of the abyss, unseen by all, is a crevice that has never been breached. A titanic eye opens in the enormous crevice, its golden orb staring out at the tiny King before it. A deep ancient blue dragon of enormous proportions slept undisturbed behind the ancient throne of his chosen children from ages past. With deliberate patience she slowly starts to pay attention to the words being spoken.

“Ancient One, please lend me the wisdom of the ages.” said Szzok, as he bowed low before the golden eye.

A rumbling voice echoes out from the darkness, “There is a powerful creature within the depths that I have sensed. I can feel it desires to claim territory within the Deepest Sands, yet has not made any move to attack. It is waiting, waiting for our move, and so move we shall. Remove our people from the area, and allow it to claim territory. It will guard the Deep Sands, and we will prosper. To such a creature, the Deep Worms are merely insects to be devoured. So it has been said, so it will be. Do not disturb me again unless my children are facing extinction.”

Szzok rises before nodding sharply, “It shall be as you command Ancient One.”