Why so many Kabresi from the nearby island of Kabre flocked to the island of Numa was a mystery until the spellmaker of Numa said they were sick with a highly contagious disease and wanted the Numians to catch it. The Kabresi neither looked nor felt sick, but they dropped dead suddenly, without warning. If not for the spellmaker who gave immunity to the Numians by unleashing the power of a small ebony amulet, they all might have died.
The Kabresi were jealous of the Numians who had discovered large deposits of diamonds and gold, which had made them rich, thanks to the spellmaker, whereas the Kabresi, who didn’t believe in spellmakers and amulets and magic, survived by recycling plastic and cardboard they collected from the slums on their island. I could have helped you, the spellmaker told them.
Since the Kabresi did not know the Numians were immune, they touched every doorknob, every light switch, every surface they could touch, to spread the disease. In time, they realized that not one Numian had died. Maybe there’s more to this magic stuff than we realized, they said to one another.
They heard that an amulet under a rock by the shore could cure them—if they could find it. The Kabresi did not know if they all were infected, but all of them frantically searched until a monster wave swept them out to sea. It was said by future generations that the rock and the amulet were swept away too—if indeed either one had ever existed.