Page 140 of The Ascended
Kyren led me toward the final echo key while Thatcher moved to help Marx. The sound was already building, making my vision blur and my stomach churn. Kyren pointed to a specific spot, unable to approach any closer as the sound threatened to overwhelm him again.
I swam forward, focusing through the pain as blood once more began to trickle from my ears. The key materialized as my fingers touched it, its song so intense I could feel my consciousness slipping. More echoes—more violent deaths.
With the last of my strength, I secured it in its container, silencing the terrible noise.
When I turned back, I saw Thatcher locked in combat with the other contestant—a woman with tentacles of living darkness extending from her hands. One of those tendrils had wrapped around his knee, the skin beneath it turning gray and lifeless. To the left, the massive violet beast clamped down on Marx's leg.
I shot forward without hesitation, star-blade forming in my hand. The woman saw me coming and redirected some of her darkness toward me, but I was too fast, too committed to my attack. Kill her, and the manifestation goes with her. My blade severed the tendril holding Thatcher, then continued through to slice across her arm.
She screamed, dark blood clouding the water between us. Her manifestation disengaged from Marx's beast, returning to defend its creator as she retreated, clutching her wounded frame.
"We've got what we came for," Thatcher gasped, his leg still partially gray where the tendril had touched him. "Let's go!"
We regrouped quickly, swimming as fast as we could out of the amphitheatre. All four of us now had complete sets of keys—one memory, one echo, one whisper. The final stage of the trial awaited.
"The echo keys showed wars, right?" Thatcher said quietly, his voice heavy. "It sounded brutal."
"Whatever divine secrets Memorica sold, it had major repercussions." Kyren said.
"The voice I heard..." I paused, remembering. "One deal made in darkness... ten thousand graves."
"No wonder Thalor drowned them," Thatcher concluded grimly. "How many people died because priests wanted gold?"
Kyren concluded. "Had to be information that mortals shouldn't have had."
"But we still don't know exactly what kind of secrets," I pointed out. "What could be valuable enough to risk divine wrath?"
"Whatever it was," Thatcher said darkly, "Thalor found out. And his response was to drown every man, woman, and child in the city."
We swam in silence for a moment, the weight of Memorica's tragedy settling over us.
The Archive loomed in the distance, a massive structure perched at the edge of the shelf break. As we approached, a beam of golden light shot from its apex toward the surface, creating a shimmering pathway through the water.
"It's opening," Kyren said, a mixture of fear and excitement in his voice.
"Whatever's in there," Marx said, "we face it together."
"Together," Thatcher agreed, though his worried gaze lingered on me.
As one, we swam into the Archive, leaving the chaos of Memorica behind. The second I entered, anxiety prickled my neck. Well, so much for being fearless. The archive had clearly returned it to me in all its glory.
Before us was a vast circular chamber descending toward the drop-off. And then they began to appear. Beings that shared ourfeatures, but had the tails of fish. Sirens, ancient and powerful and all-knowing, if the fables were to be believed.
"Welcome, survivors," one of them intoned, its voice perfectly clear. "You have reached the Archive, but your journey is not complete."
In the center of the chamber, receptacles for the keys were arranged on a circular platform.
The lead siren glided forward, its movements unnaturally fluid. "But first, you must prove you understand why you swim through these ruins. What truth do the keys reveal?"
I exchanged glances with the others. This was it.
"Memorica was a city of Thalor's faithful," Kyren began slowly. "They served as his priests and record-keepers."
"But they betrayed that trust," Thatcher continued. "They sold divine secrets for gold."
"And those secrets sparked wars," Marx added, her voice grim.
"So when Thalor discovered their betrayal," I finished, "he drowned the entire city. Everyone paid for the priests' greed—even the innocent."
