Young Writers Society

Anam frowned. ‘Are you sure? Perhaps we can detain them.’ He nodded to the floating zombies, relentless in their effort to escape his magic.

Ilal looked around them. They were grateful the field was on a roundabout, which meant only vehicles circulated it. The drivers and passengers would be able to witness it through a passing glance, but they wouldn’t be able to stop. Still, residences in the tall buildings nearby Rof Itwah could, if they paid attention to their surrounding. Ilal didn’t want that. From their past experience, unprecedented event like this would provoke theories - and who knew if one of them concerned the deities.

‘Make them invisible, Anam,’ Ilal instructed, shifting their attention to the zombies. ‘We’ll discuss about their fate in another place - a private one for them.’

Anam nodded and willed his ring to start moving, generating blue aura. The thin metal was a part of him since he was born, the primary indicator for him to be the God of Magic. In reality, his ability wasn’t so much as creating magic, but instead focused on creating laws that bent to his will and differed from the ones made by other deities.

Anam blew the blue energy that had gathered into a sphere settling on his hand, interspersing the air with little white feathers. They touched the floating people and their appearances faded slightly. To the other humans’ eyes, they were invisible.

Ilal noticed vainly about the people - they became monsters, floated, and turned invisible. If they regained their sanity, they sure had a fantastic story to tell their family. If only, they thought, registering it was a possibility for their lives to be restored. They didn’t like the feeling that seeped from not knowing, and the helplessness. Ilal prided themselves as being two of the most capable Children of Creation, the other being Nevea. If there’d be a time when they had to surrender, it wouldn’t be to a gas. Never.

‘I will find out who did this,’ Ilal said suddenly, transforming into an emerald dragon, prompting Anam to nod. Perhaps he had expected it. ‘Take them with me to my Earth palace.’

Anam shook his head and frowned mockingly. ‘Why do I surrender to be your slave I don’t even know.’ He smiled. ‘But I don’t mind it.’

The same process of his magic occurred; his ring spun and generated magical energy, which gathered into his hands. With a swift gesture, a small purple ring appeared and enlarged itself to be a functioning portal. They went through it.

Ilal’s Earth base was no ordinary base at all; its location being on the air suited their status as a deity. While they wasn’t the only deity worshiped, they were the only one who bothered making a base here. Even Terna didn’t bother herself building one, and perhaps she had a reason. Hundreds of planets waited for her supervision everyday. Nevea loved being at the sun and the nearest planet to it, while Alta often wandered around the galaxy, admiring cosmos’ beauty. Anam preferred to follow Ilal, as most of the time it meant checking on the humans to whom he had blessed with magic.

Technology built Ilal’s location. For humans, technology and science were two aspects of life that didn’t go along well with religion, but it was Ilal, their deity, who made the law of nature and allowed them to understand it. Those skeptics weren’t in Ilaeg, though, they came from other countries that distanced themselves with the Children of Creation.

Ilal’s base was a silver palace in their favourite spherical shape. Humans would assume it was an object from space belonged to an alien. In a way, the assumption was correct - Ilal was a being not from Earth, after all. But if they saw the creatures orbiting the base, they’d assume it was heaven. Beautiful winged creatures with loose white clothes that sparkled under the sunlight were what humans called as angels. Ilal granted some of the mortal - the most devoted ones - the ability to see their servants, sometimes. None of the mortals had seen the real Ilal, and the deity liked it that way. Mortals couldn’t comprehend deities’ real forms.

The angels bowed at Ilal as the front of the sphere’s cracked into the shape of two doors, which slid away from each other, revealing the interior. Anam and Ilal went through it, and a breeze of fresh air soothed them.

‘Air-conditioner?’ Anam asked, looking up to the wall. A white rectangular box was hung there, releasing breezes of cool air to the surrounding through its window.

Ilal waved their dragon wing dismissively at said object. They crossed the empty space through another door which slid open automatically when it sense the presence of the deity and their servants. Anam followed them from behind, carrying the floated humans with him. Through the corner of their eyes, Ilal caught some of the angels focusing their attentions to the humans, though their faces lacked expressions.

The room the door opened to was the main room, as vast as three halls put together. The angels there wore lab coats and protective glasses. Looking at them, Ilal smiled. Their servants were hardworking, genderless, and intellectual. If not for their programmed emotion capacity, Ilal would’ve recognized them as their best creations. Alas, emotion was the best indicator of one’s loyalty.

With Anam at their side, Ilal approached one of the servants with a name tag labeling it as Iraeg. ‘Iraeg, check these humans for any anomaly. We found them infected by an unknown substance which we can refer currently as red gas,’ Ilal said.

Iraeg nodded swiftly. ‘External and internal, as well as thoughts and emotions?’ it said with a business-like manner.

Like Ilal, the angels had the ability to read thoughts and identify emotions. However, this ability was much inferior compared to the deity’s, so Ilal had made a device that enhanced their ability. They had considered to increase the servants’ ability, but had rejected the idea since it felt like an unnecessary advantage for the servants. Ilal liked them hardworking, after all.

‘Science speak,’ Anam teased, a grin on his face. ‘Well, what are we going to do now?’

Ilal shook their dragon head, turning away from the main room. ‘We aren’t going to do anything. We’re leaving this place.’

Anam raised his eyebrows. ‘To where?’

‘The farmer’s home. We might find some clues there.’