The First Cataclysm

Somewhere under Lapansi in a forgotten garden lies a strangely dressed woman. She's unconscious, just barely alive, in an ancient magical machine. On her body sits this fragile cracked document written in Ancient Elven.
"I am writing this so that you might understand why I and others have chosen this living death. It may be hard for you to believe but a couple of months ago I lived on the surface of our Terra, in the beautiful city of ***. That day, the day our terra changed, I set my easel up to paint the butterfly garden outside town. The sun bathed my skin in warmth. Bright petals littered the ground as delicate spring blossoms gave way to their more riotous summer cousins. Listening to the birds, crickets, and other summer sounds, I stroked the canvas lazily with my paintbrush. "What a perfect day," I thought to myself. What Irony.
Suddenly interrupting the harmony, a loud boom came from above. I squinted to see a bright white ball with a long tail streaking through the air. As it disappeared below the mountains, I followed the tail backward and found myself staring at the stars through a hole in the sky. Before I  had time to consider what that meant, I heard another sound: louder and closer. The ground rippled like water tossing me onto my back. Rolling over, I found my feet and ran.  My heart pounded in my chest, my sides stabbed at me, my head swam but I ran. Something hit the ground behind me. And I ran. And then something else, something big hit to the right. And I ran. The next thing landed right in front of me. A rock crackling with magic the size of an elephant blocked my path. Coming up short, I almost smacked into it. I found my footing again. And then, I ran.
Even from a distance, I could see that the city was devastated. The outer wall was no more than piles of brick, rubble, and dirt. Hurrying to get to my home and husband, I climbed over the remnants. Once past that obstacle, my senses were inundated with the chaos. I saw all the people screaming or crying; the dead and not-quite-dead bodies; and the smell of smoke, blood, and dust. My mind unable to cope with what I saw went blank. To my shame, I stood there watching as if those poor souls were actors in a play.
Eventually, I felt someone shaking me hard. Turning, I saw that it was my husband. I couldn't understand how he had appeared there without me noticing. "Stop screaming," He demanded, "and answer me."
At first, I didn't know what he was talking about. Then I realized he was right I was screaming. A horse monotone scream. With a deep breath, I stopped. "Answer what? You just grabbed me."
"I've asked you if you were all right five or six times now. So?"
"I don't .... I'm uninjured I think."
Gently now, he pulled me to our garden bench. "Wait here. There's a lot of people who need help." And he was off.
At first, I did as I was told. But fine dust started to fall like snow. It piled up against walls and in corners. As I sat there blankly watching, the air became thick with it.  When it hurt too much to breathe, I went into the house ending my vigil waiting for my beloved. The shutters and doors kept the worst of the dirt out.
Guilt was not so deterred. Moving had broken me out of shock and I couldn't remain passive. Thinking of the people outside with nowhere to go, I wrapped a shawl around my head and dove into the worsening storm. Just beyond my door, a woman tried to hurry her little girl while carrying a crying bundle. I ran to her. Picking up the girl with one arm, I tugged the woman with the other. Quickly, we dashed into the house. "I think we are safe in here," I shouted. The woman might have answered me if she hadn't been coughing out dust. I grabbed a pitcher of barley water and some cups. "Drink and rest. I'll be right back." Marium, as I would come to know her, just nodded clutching the squirming bundle and the little girl to her.
And so, I dove out again this time coming back with an elderly man and then two abandoned children. Two more trips brought in a teen boy and a man with a cat in a large basket. By then it was too dark and the air too thick to go out again.
Just as I was trying to decide what to do with my traumatized guests, the door slammed open. "Aziz!" I shouted my Husband's name. But it wasn't him. It was three blanket-swathed figures. The tallest was a woman and the other two were her children. After people were settled, everyone made introductions. Unfortunately, I only remember the other woman was Marta and the teen Yoseef. After that, we were all too shell-shocked to talk.
We were stuck in the house for four days while the wind howled, the dust filled the air and the weather got colder and colder. I waited for my beloved Aziz. But he never came. Was I mad to believe that he would return and everything would turn out right? It was this hope that kept me going. 
On the fifth day, silence reigned both inside the house and out. The wind and dust were gone but so was summer. No one was sure what to do at this point. Then we got news of a meeting in town the next day. The large plaza was nearly full by the time I got there. At one end, I saw a stage had been erected. On it sat four men. The first three looked like scholarly types and the last was the president looking devastated.
After the noon bells rang the president stood up and greeted us, "Good afternoon," He said bleakly. "I won't give some grand speech here. Things are grave. Much more so than most of you know. We think five days ago something hit our little isle of Lapansi. The confinement, the bubble of earth, aether, and magic that keeps water and air from being sucked into space has been broken. The good news is it will heal. Unfortunately whatever broke it also pushed us away from the sun. Barely any of its warmth is reaching us and we don't know how to get back.
"Since it will take months perhaps years to return, we have made a plan. We will go underground. My scientists assure me that it is always warm down there. As we speak, earth warlocks are tunneling out caverns to live in. For our plan to succeed, there is much work to be done. I will now turn this over to the scientists behind me who can explain it better than I."
I tried to listen to what they were saying. Instead, my mind thrummed with the idea that my Aziz was down there with the other warlocks. So when it came time for volunteers, I was in line. Surprisingly, they needed artists. To help people adjust they wanted to make the caves, seem more open by using large trompe l'oeil in the common areas. They believed artists like me could somehow make such believable paintings that even livestock wouldn't know they were underground.
When I got home, I tried to break the daunting news as gently as possible. Despite nothing being funny, one of the mothers, Marta I think, started giggling hysterically. Marium grabbed her baby tight to her and the cat man applauded. It was odd. The whole situation was odd and horrible and confusing. But after days of being stuck, I knew what to do. I went to work and time passed. 
One day, I noticed a wall of letters and miniatures. People searching for other people. An area floor to ceiling and three times as long as my arm span had been covered in scraps of parchment. So many people missing. How could I find my beloved? That night I penned four? five? I don't know how many letters. I agonized over each character.  Saying a prayer to Tilwi, I tacked up a picture and my letter the next day.
Later as I finished a sunny trompe l'oeil, a man in a dirty silk robe came up to me. "I'm sorry," I snapped not looking up from my work, "I am working as fast as I can but usually I do canvases. Also, I'm running low on green."
"And I am afraid I'm not the quartermaster." He smiled widely but it didn't reach his tired eyes. "I'm the president's Chancellor. We need you for an important project. Can I count on your discretion?"
"Yes, but I'm just a painter? What kind of important secret project uses my skills?"
"The sages and mind magic users say that people will be more likely to follow the government in the difficult days to come if the government looks official. We don't have the time, energy, or resources to recreate the government offices like before. So we're using artists to make it look authentic."
I was put in charge of fake paintings. Well, the paintings were real but the frames and such were just more trompe l'oeil more painters' tricks. Besides me, Gamila was texturing and marbling the walls. Then, Zayn added moldings and architectural features: all fake. We exchanged pleasantries every morning. Every Evening, Irhan the chancellor praised our work, asked about our progress, and discussed the next day's plan. And then, he insisted we go home and rest regardless of our protests like some father. While I worked, I could forget. When the day was over, I couldn't. Aziz was still missing like hundreds of thousands of others, most of whom were dead. 
I checked the missing persons' board frequently until I found a mysterious message directing me to a work zone. When I got there, I recognized our neighbor Onays. He walked over slowly dragging his left foot. Looking down at it, he opened his mouth as if to speak and shut it again. With my throat burning with bile, I pleeded "Onays, what is it? Where is Aziz?"
Maybe my words were too harsh, too direct. He started to sob but choked out, "Azziz .... my foot ... I told him .... " It was enough. I knew my love was gone.
When he stopped sobbing, the broken man told me the whole story. Aziz had found him pinned under a column. Using the last of his aether, he lifted the column freeing his friend. That caused an avalanche of rubble to fall. Onays rolled out of the way but my beloved was a little slow. He was dead instantly.
I thanked the broken man and left the work zone. My life was all about Aziz. How could I go on without him? But did I want to die? More I wanted not to exist. To get rid of all this pain. So I threw myself into work. Irhan sensed my need and let me continue until I dropped from exhaustion. I was there so much Irhan, the president and all the other officials talked freely in front of me.
"How do we get volunteers if we don't tell the public what we are doing?" The president asked after the other workers had left.
Irhan countered, "I know you trust our people, but do you really think they would be ok with such a plan? The volunteers will be in a state of living death inside those giant machines."
"So we can grow food to survive, Irhan. Our people must survive."
"Couldn't we use convicts? I understand that there are some moral questions but they will be unaware of the passage of time. The scientists that came up with this said the drugs will either give them peaceful dreams or they will remember nothing."
"They said might."
"They said probably and the magic would ensure it.
"Have we heard from the elves? Do they have a better solution?"
"No nor the Yali nor the Lithobi. We have to do something because the plants won't survive much longer. We need volunteers and we need them now. But who will agree to be a glorified battery?
"I will," I interjected. Both men jumped noticing me for the first time. "I don't have anything left and I could use some pleasant dreams."
Irhan patted my paint-splattered hand, "Letting you exhaust yourself is one thing but .... it would be taking advantage of you."
"That's it," The president exclaimed, "We look for people who have lost everything ..."
"That's monstrous!" Irhan shouted. "Convicts are out of the question but people grieving are fair game. You have to be kidding. You can't justify it."
"Think of it as giving me ... us time to get all these desparent feelings out of us," I told both men. "Even if I don't dream, the world will have moved on. All the reminders would be long gone." We talked for a long time but eventually I convinced both men to let me be one of the sun machines' anchors.
Tomorrow, I will be taken to a "garden" and keep it alive forever. I like to think of all the people I will feed - like you. I am glad you are alive because of me. So if you want to thank me, remember Aziz and I. That's all I ask. 
Nadia"

Manifestation

Before the oldest records, a meteor struck Lapansi creating Lake Tajah Seyek. It sent the Terra far away from the sun where its light and warmth didn't reach. It is unknown today, how long Lapansi remained in that distant orbit since all that remain are oral histories. If this letter is genuine it would represent the first primary source anywhere from this time.

Type

Natural