Page 130 of The Ascended
"Approach," Sylphia commanded, gesturing toward the water's edge.
I hesitated, but all around me, contestants moved forward as if pulled by invisible threads. Knees trembling, I forced myself to join the line forming at the shore.
One by one, we waded into the shallows. The water felt wrong against my skin—too thick, almost gelatinous, and far colder than it should have been under the harsh sun.
When my turn came, Thalor descended until he hovered just above the water before me. Without warning, he pressed his thumb against my throat.
Pain exploded outward from the point of contact—a cold fire that spread through my neck and into my lungs. I gasped, clawing at my throat, but the sensation had already faded, leaving behind a strange weight in my chest, as if my lungs had been filled with something denser than air.
"The breathing enchantment will activate once you're fully submerged," Thalor explained, his massive face uncomfortably close to mine. I could see my own reflection in his pupils, distorted and tiny. "Resist, and you drown."
"What happens if the enchantment fails?" someone asked—a tall woman whose name I'd never bothered to learn.
Sylphia's smile was a knife-slash across her face. "Then you join Memorica's permanent residents."
"And how long do we have?" asked another contestant.
"Until the depths become too much to bear," Thalor replied, drifting back to the center of the lake.
The pressure in my lungs increased, making each breath slightly painful. Whatever they'd done to us was already working.
I found Thatcher in the crowd. He reached for my hand, and I grabbed his, drawing strength from his solid presence.
"Together?" he asked.
"Always," I replied, and I felt the certainty of our connection. Whatever came next, we would face it as we had everything else—side by side.
The roaring grew louder, and I realized it wasn't just in my head. The lake was moving.
Thalor raised his arms, and the water before us began to rise. Awall of it towered twenty, thirty, fifty feet above us, suspended by divine will. A tsunami frozen in the moment before destruction.
My throat closed. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't even scream as the massive wave hung over us.
"This city drowned," Thalor said, his voice booming across the expanse. "But why?"
And then the wave fell.
It raged against me, crushing the air from my lungs as it swept me off my feet. The world disappeared into churning darkness. Water filled my nose, my mouth, my eyes. I tumbled end over end, unable to tell up from down as the current dragged me deeper.
The pressure against my eardrums intensified until I was certain they would burst. My lungs burned, desperate for air, but there was only water around me, invading every sense.
Don't breathe, I ordered myself, fighting against primal instinct.The enchantment. Wait for the enchantment.
But panic won. My lungs seized, and I inhaled reflexively, expecting the searing pain of drowning.
Instead, the mark on my throat flared with cold fire, and the water changed into something my body could process. The burning in my lungs subsided.
I forced myself to take another breath. The sensation was strange—like breathing liquid silk that somehow didn't kill me. It felt wrong on every level, but it was keeping me alive.
Gradually, the violent currents subsided. I oriented myself. Above, the surface was a distant, rippling ceiling of light. Below, the drowned city spread out in all its impossible architecture.
I twisted in the water, searching desperately. The city stretched in every direction, a labyrinth of coral and crystal and pearl. Other contestants were visible as distant specks, all dispersed above the city like me. I looked for any sign of my allies but no one was close enough to recognize.
The breathing enchantment kept me alive, but it didn't stop the rising tide of terror. Had the enchantment failed them? Were they?—
Here.
Thatcher's voice sliced through my panic.
