The Nextworld Invasion and the Death of Magic - 37. Chapter 37 - The Island

The entire landmass of Uall Island suddenly shook itself, as if a supersized earthquake with a concentrated epicenter had hit, but it affected only the tiny island. The violence of the shaking uprooted every palm and mangrove tree growing from the island’s soil. They were dislodged and came crashing down into the churning surf. Waves spread out from Uall in all directions, and they began to rock the Mermonster, but the devastation subsided mere moments after it began.

A single scrawny tree remained standing at the very top of the island’s hill.

The Mermonster startled everyone onboard as it let out a glorious cacophony.

The ship’s ruckus even surprised Kilial.

Nuji frowned at her fellow Rothian. “Why’s it being so loud, and what’s it saying? I can’t make it out. It’s not speaking in a way I can understand.”

Kilial was having the exact same thoughts. The Mermonster had never made so much noise, and she had always been able to translate every tiny sound it made. “I don’t know what’s…”

“I can understand it!” Tigath and Rhostilla declared in unison. They fixed their purple and crimson eyes on each other.

Tigath turned to Kilial. “The Mermonster is made of ancient ocria wood from Tal-ocria Island, right? An island that had a crumbling bedrock, and it was magical, and it was lost, right?”

Kilial’s eyes focused past him on the island and the lone tree. “It’s not possible.”

“It is,” Tigath replied, and he translated the Mermonster’s special words. “That’s the island of Tal-ocria, and that is the final ocria tree. There’s enough magic left in the stone of the island itself to sail throughout the seas, and it has sustained the final ocria tree, but they need each other. If the last tree dies, the island will lose the remainder of its magic and sink to the ocean floor. They are keeping each other alive, the tree and the island. The Mermonster can feel its last living relative, and the wood of the ship that was once trees remembers its former home. Uall wants to help, and it shook off the other trees to reveal itself to us and the ship.”

Rhostilla added, “The magic circulating between the tree and the island is strong enough to locate the last Urcai, Rothians, and Noktar. This is how our people are going to survive. We are going to…”

“No!” Othri cried out, and he fell to his knees on the deck. “Not again” He squinted in pain. “Another one’s gone,” he groaned, and tears filled his eyes.

“Another one of us?” Rhostilla asked, and she looked at Tigath.

“Yes,” Othri moaned, “one more of you just disappeared.”

Rhostilla put her hand on his shoulder. “I feel so lucky, and I’m so grateful that you were able to find me, Othri. I’m sorry that you can feel when one of us… is no longer there. Too many of our people have been lost. We need to find whoever is left.”

“And it sounds like we need to find them quickly,” Kilial added. “There was a limited number of you magical Urcai to begin with, and that amount seems to be quickly decreasing.”

Rhostilla let out a frustrated breath. “I wish we had known what we know now, back when you found me in Rogodo, because we might have been able to save everyone in the village all at once.”

Kilial shook her head. “We couldn’t have fit them all onto the Mermonster, but if Uall Island can make it even partway up the river we journeyed, maybe the people from Rogodo can leave town and make their way to the portal before the village is targeted by the Humans.” Kilial looked at Dorjin. “If your people are really going to hunt ours to extinction, then we need to try and find as many of us as we can very quickly.”

“But all I can feel is you magical Urcai,” Othri stated. “I can’t feel any of the people up in the town of Rogodo, or anywhere else.”

“Well, then we go save the ones you can feel first,” Rhostilla declared, “and if there are any other Urcai, Rothians, or Noktar near them, we’ll save them as well. This may be the end of our civilization, the end of our life on Earth, but our people will live on.”

“Othri, are any of them close together?” Rhostilla asked. “Does it make sense for us to go looking for some of them over others because we might be able to find more of them in a specific region of the world?”

“Uall Island is apparently able to move us to wherever we are trying to go immediately,” Tigath countered, and he looked at Othri, “so maybe we should focus on any Urcai you can feel on an island or close to the coast.”

Rhostilla conceded that Tigath’s idea made sense. “Othri, do you think you would be able to point out on a map where everyone is?”

“Maybe… I can feel two of them clear on the other side of the Earth. Unless Uall Island can somehow bring us all the way to the opposite ocean, I don’t know how we’re supposed to ever get those two.”

Tigath kissed Othri’s cheek and said, “Then we should focus on the ones nearest to our current location, or like you recommended, Rhostilla, Urcai who are close together. Maybe if we mark out on a map where each one is, we’ll have a better idea of our next course of action.”

The group reconvened around Lestralin’s map of West Sea.

“I can feel one of the magical Urcai here.” Othri brought his fingertip to a spot in the ocean. He looked at Tigath and Rhostilla. “Can you tell the island where we need to go?”

“But there’s nothing there,” Kilial countered.

“Not on this map, but one of them is there,” Othri said with a nod.

“Uall Island!” Tigath called out over the starboard side. “Can you bring us to where Othri is indicating?”

Without warning, the entire world flashed again, as if it was flying by them, and the Mermonster was suddenly plunged into darkness as Uall Island brought them from the morning sunshine to a region of the Earth that was still in its nighttime. Then all at once, the world stopped blazing past, and the Mermonster was still next to Uall Island on its starboard side, but to the port was a separate, small landmass.

Huts were visible along the shore, and a longhouse was tucked back in the trees where the land began to rise. The other island was only slightly larger than Uall, and it made sense to those aboard the Mermonster why the Humans had not yet targeted it. They were grateful they had found some survivors.

“Should we wait for the sun to rise?” Lestralin asked.

The others agreed that even though the Humans were potentially on their way toward the smaller Earthian settlements around the globe, they did not want to frighten the island’s sleeping inhabitants.

As the world slowly began to glow, those aboard the Mermonster started to spot signs of life on the island. Smoke coiled up from an unseen fire, and one of the hut’s front doors opened. A pair of Noktar men exited and were very startled by what they saw. They began waking their neighbors and making them come out into the sunrise to see the ship and the island that should not have been there.

“I think it’s time to go ashore,” Kilial stated.

A few minutes later, she was rowing the Mermonster’s dinghy with Tigath, Othri, and Nuji toward a crowd of the islanders who had gathered on the shore.

“Who are you folks? And where did that island come from?” a Rothian woman called out from the beach.

“Do you know about the war?!” Nuji hollered back.

The island’s inhabitants were obviously confused.

“What war?” someone shouted.

Tigath leaned toward Nuji and said, “Let’s explain once we get there.”

Soon the hull of the rowboat was digging into the soft sand at the edge of the beach.

“Welcome, strangers,” said the Rothian woman, “but what is this war you’re talking about? Is it happening nearby, and therefore may affect us in our isolated community?”

“You really don’t know?” Kilial asked.

It quickly became clear that the islanders were entirely ignorant of the exodus and the vast devastation that the Humans had wrought upon the Earth.

“Our world is fallen,” Tigath stated in a sorrowful tone. “The Humans from Nextworld have invaded, slaughtered the free peoples, and are in the process of occupying our cities.”

“The humans are hunting us to extinction,” Nuji added, “but we’ve found a way for the remnant of our people to survive.”

The Rothian woman then asked, “What even made you come to us?”

Tigath, Kilial, and Nuji looked at Othri.

He stepped forward. “Do you know that one of the Urcai here has gained access to magic from the Earth?”

Keen-eyed Nuji noticed several people in the group glance toward a certain green-skinned individual, who immediately looked nervous, but the Rothian woman again spoke.

“Urcai can’t do magic,” she said flatly.

“No,” Othri confirmed, “not until the Humans started slaughtering our people, and the Earth shared its power with us. Our people used to do magic in the ancient past, but it was so long ago that we had entirely forgotten it.” He let out a sad sigh. “The only way for us to survive, is for us to hide.”

“And we think we’ve found the perfect hiding place,” Tigath added. He looked over his shoulder at the magical island that now only had a single tree growing from its top. “There’s an opening through reality hidden there, and it will lead us to our salvation.”

“What do you mean,” the Rothian woman asked, “some sort of portal?”

Tigath nodded. “Any Urcai, Rothians, or Noktar who are found by the Humans to still be living on this planet will be slaughtered. Our only chance of survival is to leave.”

“Where does the portal lead?” someone at the back of the crowd shouted.

Tigath did not hesitate telling them the truth. “It leads into Nextworld, which is a twisted and terrible realm,” he added over the protests of the islanders, “but it will be our salvation. Millions of the free peoples have been killed. There are so few of us left. The Humans have abandoned their world, maybe not all of them, but Nextworld has been almost completely emptied, and that’s where we are going to be able to hide. The Humans who have remained behind,” Tigath continued, “are part of a movement of their people who opposed the invasion of Earth, but we understand that it’s only a fraction of their population. At least in Nextworld though, we will be hidden from those who hate us the most. We have no intention of making connections with the Humans who stay behind in Nextworld; we just intend to survive.” Tigath stopped speaking.

Everyone on the beach was silent.

The sounds of the rolling waves and the tropical birds were beautiful in Tigath’s ears, and it broke his heart to think that he would be leading the islanders away from such a wonderful home.

A young Urcai woman put up her hand, and she nervously approached the four who were strangers to her. “It’s me,” she declared. “I don’t know why, but I can suddenly do magic.” She looked back at the Rothian woman, who was very upset that the girl had revealed herself. “My name’s Toque. Are the Humans really killing us? Is that why I can do magic? Because our people are dying?”

Othri gave her a solemn nod.

Toque glanced at the Rothian leader again. “Vadda, this is why I can do everything. It’s so clear to me that their words and goals are right and good. We need to leave. We haven’t seen any of the violence they’re talking about, but my heart doesn’t doubt them.” Toque frowned and declared in a resolute tone to her fellow islanders, “I’m going through the portal!”

Quite a few of the people around her looked alarmed, and the woman Toque had called Vadda began to protest.

“Toque, you can’t! Now that you can do this magic, our life has become incredible here on the island. You owe it to us to stay.”

“Come with me,” Toque pleaded, turning her eyes from the leader and imploring the others. “This is the answer, how we survive.”

“But there’s no threat to us here!” Vadda insisted.

“Not now,” Toque replied, “but we’ve always known the Humans were evil. It’s in all our stories; we talk about it as children. If they’ve come here, we need to leave before they find us.”

“Yes,” Othri said to Toque in a relieved voice, “and I’m sorry, I’ve already forgotten your name, but she’s right!” he called out to the islanders. “The Humans are actively hunting down whoever of us remain. You asked how we found you; it’s because of me.” He turned his orange eyes to Toque. “I can feel you, and you’re not the only Urcai who can do magic. You’re the second one we’ve found, and there are thirteen others out there who we are trying to find before the Humans do.” He looked back at the crowd. “I know some of you want to stay here, that your lives and livelihood are here, but please, take what you need to survive, and come with us.”

The morning crept by, and as the sun climbed toward its summit in the sky, those who were leaving gathered on the shore with the possessions they intended to take into Nextworld with them.

To everyone’s shock and surprise, Uall Island raised a peninsula of bedrock that extended to the other island, creating a damp path of dry land for the people to walk upon, and the impossible phenomenon helped convince a few more to leave.

An hour later, Toque and her fellow islanders who had been willing to abandon their homes were hidden in Nextworld, and Tigath, Othri, Nuji, and Kilial were back aboard the Mermonster.

“I can’t believe how many stayed behind,” Othri grumbled quietly to Tigath.

The pair was together at the bow.

More than half of the Urcai, Rothians, and Noktar who lived on the island had remained.

“We saved fifty-seven people,” Tigath replied. “We’re doing the best we can.”

“But is it enough?”

“It’s all we can do.”