From the Chronicles of the Founding

Nefir tapped another crystalline wedge into place with his wooden mallet, checking the glass window on the gauge on either side. It showed a bright green, indicating that he was directly over the fissure. They had said that he could err quite a bit in either direction, so long as the charges followed the fissure’s general path, but that was no excuse for sloppiness. Satisfied with the placement, he stood up. Looking back along the path, with the sun rising he could see the glint from some of the already set charges. He walked twenty paces, checked his gauge, and repeated the process with a fresh wedge from his satchel.

To his right was the sea, it’s thunderous power diminished by the towering cliff. To his left was the city, a beacon of progress shining in the early morning light. What if they were wrong, what if the magic was not about to fail? Then the attempt to create a new life would fail, and he would be persecuted. All the predictions, their irrefutable precision couched in logic, and there was still a seed of doubt within him. Ultimately, he knew that the doubt would always be with him, that only direct experience could could rid his belief that the world he knew, the world of floating cities and artificial lights, could simply cease.

He thought of his family, what it would mean for them. He knew that his wife Farrekh felt differently about the whole thing than him. She believed with all of her being that the magic the world was built on would fail. She could probably see his doubt, but hadn’t said anything. After all, it wasn’t a person’s intentions that mattered, but their actions. What use was conviction without courage, knowledge without will? And so was there any difference between true conviction and acting as though one had true conviction?

Nefir moved on and placed another charge.


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Author’s Notes: [spoiler]Notes will probably be available next week. Sorry.[/spoiler]