(I'm so late, sorry!)
The world had faded from Khasm. There was nothing, just an endless void. An abyss deeper than the hells.
And there was something, something strange and new. Magic.
New magic, strange and mysterious and most likely never before discovered. Khasm knew he was writing in his magical tome, knew but did not feel. His mind wasn't connected to his physical body, not completely, not like it should've been. He was disembodied, his subconscious taking in and writing out all this knowledge of the new magic all at once. This was the truth of his spell.
And like that, he was returned to his body, exhausted and dying, or so he felt. He knew better, however, and forced his life-force to remain, willed it through sheer stubbornness to remain. The runes on his arm helped with this, summoning his soul back whenever it tried to leave.
He felt his body collapse into the ground, and heard the thud as his head hit the sand with a sad pmph. He knew nothing but darkness for many hours.