by HR Moore
She finally reached the entrance to the Spirit Temple, and although the guards gave each other a meaningful look, they reluctantly let her pass, Anita promising that Alexander would reward them for their actions as she left them in her wake. She ran to the aisle down which Alexander and the Spirit Councillors had only minutes before paraded, spotting Cleo’s nameless friend leaning casually against one of the pillars at the back. ‘You,’ said Anita, her voice accusatory as she faltered beside him. ‘What are you doing here?’
He looked her up and down, ‘watching,’ he replied simply. ‘But you know,’ he said ambiguously, his eyes wide with unexplained excitement.
‘I know what?’ demanded Anita.
‘You know,’ he replied, a mysterious smile playing about his lips.
Anita’s eyes went wide and she sprinted towards the front of the Temple, her footsteps the only sound, the crowd waiting in silent expectation, just as she had imagined. Several people turned to see the source of this new noise, but Anita ignored them. She neared the front and saw Anderson in his seat, taking in Alexander, Gwyn and Marcus playing their roles to perfection. She opened her mouth and bellowed ‘stop,’ Alistair turning towards the sound, his expression changing to concerned confusion, and seeing it was her, immediately moving towards the energy hook to try and stop it. However, just before he reached the odd brass object, a seemingly inconsequential click rang out above his footsteps, Anita screeching to a halt to observe what would happen next.
The relic responded perfectly, its uneven form taking to the sky with faultless grace, and for a moment, everything was calm and silent, all eyes watching it go. Then, after what seemed like an age, time slowing down as it only did when something awful was transpiring, a colossal force hammered down on the Temples, stone that had stood for hundreds of years seeming to leap into the sky as destruction ensued. Those in the front seats were tossed outwards as the backlash rippled away from where the relic had stood, across the floors of each of the Temples, tossing people aside like rag dolls, nobody able to withstand its awesome force. Marcus and Gwyn were thrown backwards, Alistair disappeared into a hole in the floor, and Alexander was obscured from view as Anita too was knocked off her feet.
She hauled herself up and struggled in the direction of the Mind Temple, where she thought Alexander had been thrown. Her heart was pounding, adrenaline and fear coursing through her, pushing her onwards despite the people lying dead or screaming in pain all around. She pressed onwards, seeing, to her unconscious relief, several men helping Cordelia to her feet and towards the exit, before a deafening bang cut across the madness. Anita stopped momentarily, desperately trying to take in what was happening now, when she saw a fracture appear in the floor, accompanied by a dreadful creaking, cracking sound that led to the opening of a great fissure beneath them. ‘Alexander,’ screamed Anita, as a section of the Mind Temple fell away into the chasm below, a pair of unwelcome hands clamping around her torso and pulling her back as she tried to go further into the chaos.
The hands were unrelenting, pulling her back in the direction she’d come, demanding that she follow them. Anita resisted furiously, clawing at the hands to make them let her go, to let her find Alexander, to help him get out. A pillar fell in front of her, a cloud of dust bellowing up into her face and a voice screamed in her ear, ‘we have to leave. Alexander went up the aisle of the Mind Temple, he was helping get others out. We have to leave now,’ it was Marcus’ voice, but not as she knew it, it was filled with urgent terror and Anita knew they had to go.
She stopped resisting and he released his grip, Anita turning towards him, giving him a look that told him she would comply. They started back into the Temple of the Spirit, climbing over the debris and encouraging all who were still able to make their way towards the exit. Another earth-shattering crash boomed out from just behind them as a large chunk of the Temple fell in on itself, trapping countless bodies below. Anita pushed on with renewed resolve, Marcus’ energy close behind.
They emerged from the Temple into bedlam; people running aimlessly this way and that, others lying injured on the ground, some screaming for help, some staying silent, the shock too much to endure. Anita looked around her, searching urgently for any trace of Alexander; his red cloak, blond hair, someone taking control and directing people out to safety, but there was no sign anywhere she looked. Everyone now looked the same, covered in dust and blood, confusion and disbelief ebbing around them, those who could wondering what they should do next.
But what happened next was beyond anything anyone could have imagined, people all around pointing at the Temples, Anita turning with everyone else to see why. They were, without warning, collapsing in on themselves, all three together, in impeccable unison, pillars falling forwards or sideways, the roofs, which had always seemed so majestic and grand, acres above the floors below, now sliding off their supports to come crashing down on all those left inside. Anita watched it happen in slow motion, titanic slabs of stone hurtling towards the ground, and then landing, sending a new shockwave of destruction outwards, a tsunami, indiscriminately sucking everything up in its path. The wave plunged towards her, a wall of power that no one could outrun. And then, nothing. Then only blackness. Then only the dark.
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Epilogue
A hooded figure sat in a small, wooden rowing boat in the middle of the great salt sea, scanning the sky and smiling as she finally saw a large object hurtling out of the sky towards her. Her heart momentarily skipped a beat, the reckless mass looking as though it were coming straight for her, although it landed, thank the Gods, fifty feet away, a great splash marking its arrival.
She took up the oars and rowed towards the spot where the relic had landed, waiting patiently for it to float back to the surface. The Institution had not expected that; they’d had divers waiting to scour the sea bed for the precious stone, not that she needed to worry about them any longer, but she’d known it would float, and sure enough, float it did. She picked up the net that covered the base of her small vessel and hooked it around the relic, not for a second entertaining the idea of trying to drag its great weight on board. She pulled the opening closed, used a rope to tether her cargo, and calmly rowed back towards the shore.
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