Vephni’s screams of rage followed Allyssia out through the front doors of the Brig.
She squinted against the light reflecting off the metallic surface of the monolith that carried the island. She had become jaded to the ancient floating object’s magnificence after spending so much of her life at Pyrem, but every now and then it could still catch her off guard, and she would wonder about its mysterious origins that were said to predate the gods. It was one of many that freely drifted around the planet. Though most others stood vertical, Pyrem’s monolith lay nearly horizontal, the light gleaming off of the half emerged from the island’s edge and ascended into the distance at a gentle slope.
A cool morning wind tugged at her clothing on her way back to the Primarys’ residence. The sun had risen high enough that Allyssia no longer feared any of the fading shadows, and she walked with a spring in her step as she passed the small farms and tall hydronets that supplied much of Pyrem’s food and water. She was sure that magic could be returned to them all.
Leaving the open fields, she noticed teachers, students, and other Primary gathered in one of the courtyards. Robert stood in the center of the group struggling to gather everyone together while more people filtered in. Some were still wearing their nightgowns.
“What happened to our magic?” a woman shouted as Allyssia approached. “Why can’t I compose anything? My son wants a warm breakfast.”
Robert tilted his head to Allyssia before responding. “We don’t know.”
Realization dawned on several drowsy faces in the crowd, likely those who had not yet tried to use magic that morning. Each in turn strained to accomplish anything, in the same manner that she and Robert had done, before their realization changed into concern.
“Will we get our magic back?” a young man asked with worry in his voice.
“All we know is that in the early hours of the morning, everyone in Pyrem lost the ability to compose,” Primary Hammon said. The elderly man’s thin, bare legs stuck well out from beneath his bathrobe exposing his fuzzy slippers shaped like pigs.
“Just Pyrem? What about the rest of the world?” another man interrupted.
The Primary Estar, who had somehow found time to fully dress and apply makeup to her motherly face, answered in a gentle voice. “Without being able to power our communication devices, we have no way of knowing that at this time.”
Murmurs rose among the crowd as people snapped out of their dazes.
A young woman shrieked, putting her hands over her mouth. “But if we can’t power anything, how will we get supplies from below, or get to the ground for that matter?”
“You are right,” Robert said. “Without aircraft, it will be difficult to get supplies, but we are well stocked, and the gardens will provide some of what we need for the time being. As for getting down to the ground, Pyrem has many parachutes for emergencies. There should be enough for everyone, and if not, those with wings—”
“Hey! How come he can still compose magic?”
Everyone in the crowd turned in unison to a boy pointing at Primary Mattiko, a kanian man with graying fur who held a small, wavering fireball within his claws. Mouths dropped open, but no one spoke.
“I-I don’t know,” Mattiko said, his canine ears and tail drooping under their gazes. “I mean, it’s weak, but I can still do it.”
“So can I!” a dryad woman named Liesa exclaimed, holding a jade orb of magic above her head. Wisps of energy swirled around her green-tinted hands. The leaves in her hair rustled as she jumped with excitement.
Shouts of outrage and jealousy burst from the crowd. People pushed toward those who could still compose, grabbing at them as if they could take their magic for themselves. A little girl near the edge of the mob flashed a spark of magic within her cupped hands. When she looked up and locked eyes with Allyssia, the Primary motioned for her to run. She escaped through a nearby archway before anyone noticed. The mob continued to riot until Primary Mattiko was punched and fell to the ground.
“Enough! Everyone back off.” Robert stepped in front of Mattiko and shielded the kanian and the dryad with his wings. The crowd stumbled back, creating a ring around the three of them.
“What the hell is wrong with all of you?” Robert shouted. His tone dared anyone to speak, regardless of the fact that it was a question.
Before he could continue, a teenage girl shoved through the circle. “Primarys, come quick! You have to stop them!”
His demeanor changed from anger to concern in a moment. “Meirna, what is happening? Stop who?”
“Zan, Kaydence, Dagnar ….” She paused to gasp for breath. “They are all going to jump!”
Allyssia bolted in the direction the girl was pointing. She had thought Zan had just been overreacting; it was not unlike him to speak as if a negative test result was the end of the world. Even if he was overreacting, peer pressure could lead people to do things they normally would not do on their own.
“They were headed toward the grand balcony,” Meirna shouted from close behind as they ran down a hallway.
Allyssia slid around a corner and exited into a large, open overlook that surveyed the descending half of the monolith. Zan and a handful of others stood on the stone railing arm-lengths apart, staring at the world far below. Others stood behind them at the railing, waiting their turn.
“Zan, don’t!” Allyssia yelled. Robert stepped up beside her, and the crowd from the courtyard gathered behind them.
Zan looked over his shoulder. “I told you, I don’t want to live without magic!” he shouted through his mandibles.
“There is still a way! Some people can still compose.”
The girl to Zan’s right, Kaydence, shook her head. “That doesn’t mean anything. What makes you think that? For all we know, they will lose theirs soon, too.”
“This is permanent,” said Dagnar, who was waiting to step up behind her. Something about his pale skin and red eyes always made Allyssia uneasy. “I can feel it.
Allyssia shook her head. “Even if it is, magic isn’t everything. We can still live normal, happy lives.”
“Where? On the ground? You and I are the same,” Kaydence said, grabbing her own curling horns and blue tail. “We are new, a cursed race. The goddess wants us dead. No one down there will accept us, and if they do, she will just kill them, too.”
“There are places ….” Allyssia trailed off. Her emotions welled up inside her, and a single tear slid down her cheek as she fought to control herself. She sobbed once before she could speak again. “Please, Zan.”
“I can’t, Allyssia.” Zan closed his eyes. “I just can’t.”
He stepped forward, and the others followed.
Allyssia rushed toward him, shoving those waiting to take his place out of her way. She lunged over the railing to grab him, but he was already gone, falling with his arms spread wide. She watched in shock, but Robert pulled her away before Zan struck the monolith.
“Stop them!” Robert shouted to the crowd, pointing at the people who had been waiting to jump. “Knock them out if you have to. Don’t let anyone jump.”
Allyssia could not breath. Her head was spinning, and her eyes stung with tears. Robert caught her when her knees gave way and set her down slowly. Sitting beside her, he put an arm around her shoulders.
“That stupid boy,” she managed to mumble. She did not mean it. As much as Zan had annoyed her, she had grown fond of his presence and eagerness to assist her. She did not want to find a different apprentice, she just wanted him to listen to her and take her advice. Maybe if she had taken him with her to see Robert, or maybe if she would have just taken the time to calm the boy further, he would still be alive. The thought of never seeing Zan again made her heart burn, and she cried. Her whole body shook with each fervent sob.
“What do we do with them?” someone asked.
“Take them to the cafeteria for now,” Robert replied.
He sat with her in silence for several minutes while people cleared the overlook. Others were crying as well, some harder than Allyssia.
When her breathing began to steady, she dried her eyes and stood with Robert’s help.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked.
She sniffled and looked toward the railing, picturing Zan jumping again. “I …. Robert.”
“Hm?”
“We’re not tethered.”
They both rushed to the edge and peered down at the ground—she winced at seeing the red marks on the monolith’s shiny surface. Rural streets flowed beneath Pyrem, the people walking them looking like ants. The small town the monolith was supposed to be tethered to was nowhere to be seen. They turned to the direction the island was traveling, sideways along the breadth of the monolith, and skyscrapers soared in the path ahead.
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“Oh my gods!” Allyssia shouted.
“I didn’t even consider that the tether would be missing,” Robert rambled.
She pointed toward the cafeteria. “We have to get Mattiko and Liesa to the control room, now!”
“It will be faster if we split up. I’ll get them and warn everyone. You go on ahead and see if you can figure out why we are moving.”
Allyssia’s legs ached by the time she reached the doors to the control room, set into the monolith half way up the ascending end. Resting on the bottom edge of the door frame, she lay down against the door to catch her breath. It opened on its own, and she fell into the control room, landing awkwardly as the change in gravity pulled her at an angle aligned with the length of the monolith.
Standing, her stomach turned at seeing the world and the House of Pyrem steeply crooked beneath her, the open sky in front of her. Even worse was watching Robert and those who could still cast magic walk up the monolith vertically from her perspective. She turned away before she wretched.
In the room, two men lay sprawled over computer panels, while a third was frantically slamming his hands against another.
“I can do it. I can do it. I can do it,” he repeated. Wisps of orange energy spurted from claws on his fingertips to the control panel.
“What happened in here, Enic?” Allyssia asked him, but he did not seem to hear her.
“Allyssia!” Robert shouted from outside.
Swallowing hard to control her stomach, she stuck her head out the door. “What?”
She did not need a reply. A skyscraper dominated the sky, the House of Pyrem reflecting in its thousands of windows. Robert and the others were running toward her with terror covering their faces, Their feet pounded against the metallic surface of the monolith.
“Run!” she screamed needlessly. She looked back at Enic at the computer, but refrained from asking him the obvious. There was nothing he could do.
Liesa dived into the room, almost knocking Allyssia over. Robert was right behind her and leaped for the edge of the door frame just as the side of the descending end of the monolith slammed into the skyscraper. His body flailed toward it, and Allyssia grabbed onto his hands. Primary Mattiko leaped for Robert’s feet, but fell short and was launched toward the skyscraper.
“No!” Robert and Allyssia shouted together. The kanian man struck the side of the monolith twice before sprawling into the open air.
She helped Robert inside. He had been one of Mattiko’s few friend, and she could see the sorrow on his face. Although they were both Primarys, Allyssia had not been close to Mattiko. He was a pleasant man, but a loner, and other than his love of history, she had not known him very well. Still, it hurt to see a fellow Primary, someone she had grown up around, lost before her eyes.
Together with Liesa, they watched the monolith swivel, grinding around the skyscraper until they passed it. The building buckled, its windows shattering, but it did not fall over. Allyssia hoped that anyone inside was all right.
The far side of the island broke free, and the grand balcony where Zan and the others had jumped from rose into view over the House of Pyrem before crumbling off the monolith. Allyssia held her breath waiting for the whole island to break apart, but it did not.
Skyscraper after skyscraper loomed by. Since the monolith had been turned, the ascending end led the island safely through the city by traveling along a major street. They could not see the ground, but smoke rose from several buildings, an indication that the large populous had lost their magic as well.
The walk down the monolith seemed to last forever. The horror of what had just transpired combined with the anxiety of damage to the island and more loss of life churned in Allyssia’s mind with every step. She and Robert walked alone in silence; Liesa stayed with Enic in the control room in an attempt to help the man. When they finally reached the island, Allyssia was hesitant to step onto the dirt, as if it might begin sliding off the monolith at any moment.
From the outside, the damage to the House of Pyrem looked minimal; cracks ran along a few walls, and a small tower had collapsed onto a yard. Columns and roof tiles inside had fallen, blocking some of the entryways and halls. Working their way through hallways of rubble, they found people gathered in an open courtyard. Some had broken bones or head injuries and were being attended, though most had nothing more than minor cuts and bruises. Everyone was visibly shaken.
“Thank the gods, you two are alive,” Primary Estar said as she approached followed by several others. She embraced Allyssia and Robert with a warm smile.
“How is everyone holding up?” Robert asked.
“We’ve survived, to say the least,” Primary Hammon answered. “Unfortunately we had a few casualties, including several of the jumpers who managed to escape and succeed.” He motioned toward a group of people mourning fervently in the corner, some bent over bodies shrouded in sheets.
“Excuse the interruption,” Captain Jonns said, stepping up to Allyssia. “I must apologize, Primarys. Vephni also escaped during the impact.”
Any other time, Allyssia would have reprimanded him for speaking about such a secretive subject in public, but it made little difference after all that had happened. “Do you know where she went? We must secure everyone who can still compose magic immediately.”
Jonns shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. My men managed to catch up with her at the edge of the island just before she leaped.”
“So she is no longer on Pyrem?” Primary Estar asked. “Are you sure? She could have caught hold of a ledge and climbed up elsewhere.”
“No, Primary. I thought the same, but my men confirmed that they watched her fall until she was out of sight.”
Primary Hammon snorted. “Good riddance. That is one person I will not feel remorse for.”
“I doubt she is dead,” Allyssia said.
Jonns nodded. “I agree. Even in her weakened state, it is unlikely that a fall of any height would have killed her.”
“Exactly what kind of being did we take into our care?” Primary Estar whispered.
“There is nothing we can do about it now,” Robert said, taking charge. “We need to focus on the situation here. Take anyone who isn’t injured or mourning and break them into teams to survey all of Pyrem, starting with the infirmary. If it is stable, move the injured there. Watch for weak points, especially in the island itself. If any part of this place is about to go, I need to know about it immediately.”
What remained of Pyrem persisted. Over the next few days, students and teachers worked together to clear the walkways and halls of debris, leaving any outside damage for a later time. Classes did not resume, but otherwise life on the island continued as normally as it could without magic.
Allyssia was unable to sleep while thinking that the island could go at any moment, and she figured others must have felt the same. Their haggard appearances matched her own, and most were startled any time a building creaked or someone made a loud noise.
She jumped up to sit on Robert’s office desk when he called her name unexpectedly.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, giving her a strange look.
“I was wondering how the survey was going.” As foolish as she felt, being off the floor gave her a sense of security, as if not standing on the island itself would save her should it fall.
“The survey is complete. Other than some minor crumbling near where the grand balcony fell, the island appears stable, and any buildings that are unsafe have been roped off.”
When she only stared at him, he asked, “Was there anything else?”
“I … um … was also wondering if you had heard any news from the ground?”
Yes, actually. I just returned from communications.” Robert seemed hesitant say more.
“And?”
He rounded the large, gilded desk and sat in his padded leather chair. Leaning on his desk with his elbows, he rubbed his hands together while avoiding her gaze.
“Spit it out, man,” Allyssia demanded. He knew how much this meant to her, how much it meant to all of them, so if he was stalling, it meant that he did not want to hurt her feelings. But even if it was bad news, she had to know.
Taking a deep breath, he looked into her eyes. “It’s not just us.”
Allyssia’s heart skipped a beat.
Robert sprang to his feet and hugged her as best he could over the desk. While she appreciated the gesture, she did not return it. She felt cold, empty, like a piece of her was missing that she would never get back. Up until now, she had held on to the thought that her ability to compose magic might still return, but now she knew that she had only been fooling herself.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered.
“I think … I think we should call for an evacuation.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “What? No! I could never leave this place, even if it is falling apart.”
“And I’m sure others feel the same,” he reassured her. “I’m not saying you have to leave, or that even I will, but I think we should put it on the table for everyone. Everything has changed, and many people will want to return to their families.”
The lecture hall hummed with gasps and murmurs after Robert’s initial announcement of evacuation. All of Pyrem had been gathered to hear what he had to say. Every seat was filled, and the room was so crowded that some were only able to listen from outside the open windows.
“Please, quiet,” Robert continued from the podium on stage. “I know what this means for all of you. Some of you have lived here most of your lives, I have, but when we lost magic, Pyrem went with it. This place has nothing left to offer. Anyone who wants to stay can, but we no longer have control of the monolith and Pyrem could still fall due to the impact.”
Silence lingered after he had finished, until an elderly man and a handful of others around him stood.
“We wish to stay,” the man said. “This is our home.”
“So do we,” said Primary Estar from beside the stage.
“And us,” said another.
In all, about a quarter of the community decided to stay. Parachutes were distributed to those who were leaving, and at noon the next day, everyone had gathered at Pyrem’s small airstrip at the edge of the island to say their goodbyes.
“Will you be alright?” and “Where will you go?” were commonly asked questions. Only what could fit into a single bag was allowed per person who had a parachute, but those with wings carried what they could in addition to their own. A petalo man could only shrug at people who asked him to take something other than just his bundle of clothes; although his monarch-styled wings were large, they were thin and could uphold little more than his own small stature.
Pyrem had a small aircraft parked in the hangar, but the few pilots that lived on the island could no longer compose magic. Even if others were to power the craft, any remaining magic was too weak and the control too complex for the untrained. After what Allyssia had seen in the Brig and the monolith’s control room, they were not about to take any chances.
Allyssia held Robert’s hand while they watched the people of Pyrem leave forever, a colorful display floating toward the ground. A single tear managed to slide down her cheek despite her struggle not to cry. Pyrem’s final days had been ones of terror, strife, and heartbreak, but she did not want their departure to be a sad memory. They were not dying, it was only a farewell.