Tragic Magic

Harold breathlessly wolfed down his Eggs Benedict, crumbs flying in all directions. His disgruntled assistant, Patrice, watched on in disgust. “How can one person be both a refined wizard, and a total slob at the same time?” he asked. “Fetch me my wand,” Harold said dismissively.

Patrice, annoyed with Harold’s constant demands, muttered something as he grabbed the wand from the hall closet. Harold had once been the greatest wizard in the Three Corners, he could conjure a hat one minute, and repair a bridge the next. Until the day of the Arrival, that is.

Patrice, Harold, and all the other seers and mages in the Union were caught flatfooted by the Arrival of Reason. Suddenly everyone was asking for “evidence”, and it was impossible to create magic anymore.

It was a clear conspiracy! It was the aliens! It was the magicless! Accusations poured out from every side, but it was no use now. The arrival made everyone magicless and unable to create magic. So instead, they started to learn to live with "reason" and "reality," believing that

science could achieve even more amazing feats. And so it went for a few hundred years. But, turns out, magic is still a lot cooler than science. So the wizards wrote juicy tell-all memoirs, and they basked in the book deal advances and movie options (though none were produced).