Magic’s End

By C.R. Merz

As I approach the Edonian Corp. building, I see Jeremy and Anya waiting for me. They must have been nervous too; they never got anywhere before I did.

“Look who decided to show up early,” I tease.

“Just shut up and listen. I found a pathway that leads you straight to the office. Take this map. It outlines a straight shot.” Jeremy hands me a marked paper.

“I’ll take the tethered broadcaster. Good luck, Orin,” Anya says.

Anya and Jeremy head towards the doors. I see Anya pretend to fall and Jeremy rushes to her side, yelling for help. The guard at the entrance runs towards them. I sneak by and close the door behind me.

The inner design of the building is immaculate but covered in pipes all over the walls. My heart is racing which makes it hard to focus.

“I’ve never broken into anything, what happens if I get caught?” I think to myself. “But I must continue on, the world needs to know what’s happening here.”

The pipes are made of clear glass, and I can see the whisps of magic energy flowing through them. As I continue onward, I see tankards of vast amounts of magic staged throughout.

“What could possibly use this much magic?” I whisper.

I hear footsteps echo nearer to my location, so I dash into the room and hide behind a tankard. The two guards come to a stop, and I can faintly overhear their conversation.

“Sensor One said we had some movement in this sector, must have been a mouse,” the first guard says.

“Yeah, I feel like we get that at least once a day. Say, did you hear the rumors about Atlee trying to gain immortality?” The second guard says.

“Immortality,” I think. Just then I realize I forgot to check to be sure my magic is still tethered to the broadcaster. I try my best to focus but my heightened emotions scramble my magic tethering to the broadcaster.

“Shut up, we’re not supposed to talk about that, you could get us imprisoned,” the first guard says jabbing the other with his elbow.

I begin to calm my nerves allowing calmness to bring stability to my magic flow. I can feel the tether strengthen to the broadcaster, and I sigh.

“Did you hear that,” the second guard says.

I whip my hand to my mouth, feeling my emotions ramp up again. They’ve got me, all this is over because I had to sigh in the middle of a stealth mission.

“No, and besides this little excursion put us behind on lunch. You know how strict Atlee is with our shift transfers. It’s a mouse remember, that is what the report will say,” The first guard says with mild irritation.

The now-hastened footfalls of the guards continue to dwindle until the sound is gone. I remove my hand from my mouth and try to steady my nerves, reigniting the steady tether of magic.

“Let’s not do that again,” I whisper.

After I gather my bearings, I take another look at the map. It looks like the office is just down the hallway. I poke my head out from behind the tankard just enough the see around the corner. There are no guards to be found. I follow the reddish carpet around the bend for about twenty more feet.

“It has to be right here,” I think to myself.

I look up from the map and feet in front of me stands a door. Gold filigree stretches over a deep dark wood, the name Atlee prominently stamped into the wood. I reach for the handle, but it flutters away as the door swings wide.

“Orin. Good of you to finally drop in,” Atlee hisses. “You thought your clumsy friend could stumble upon the map so easily?”

I remain silent.

“No matter, you’re here now,” he sneers.

“I know, Atlee. You’re planning to siphon our magic power and use it to control us.”

“My dear, unimaginative boy. I don’t need magic to control the masses. I simply have to make their lives easier, and they worship me. There is a piece of Edonian tech in every house across the country. Simpler life is all it took for them to swear their allegiance.”

“If control isn’t your goal, what does stealing magic get you in the long run?” I press, hoping the guard's slip-up will pay off and I can catch it on camera this time.

“Control is just part of the picture,” he snaps.

I close my eyes, focusing on the magic tether, noticing a still faint connection.

“What makes you think that we are willing to give up our magic without a fight?”

“Look around you! I already have it all.”

A set of curtains fall, revealing a huge storehouse holding what must be centuries of magic.

“Evolution,” Atlee sings. “Control only lasts as long as I hold power. To keep you ants from pushing back, I must become immortal. All it takes is to sacrifice the magic of the world, absorbing it into myself. I’ll become a literal god!”

“And you think by washing away our history, our heritage, and our birthright you can become this so-called god? Even without magic, we will remember the past!”

“But for how long? I can slowly write it out of the history books, remove families that speak of heritage,” he says as he picks up a book and begins to tear out the pages one by one.

“I can even outlaw the talk of magic altogether; it will take just a few generations. No one will know it ever existed.” He sets the desecrated book on his desk.

Atlee turns on his monitor. The realization of what I have done dawns as he sees the feed from my broadcast displayed on the screen in real-time.

“I always had a feeling your fake persona was a veil for evil intentions, now the whole world does too.”