Dara, Page, and the Secrets of the Multiverse

▷ 4.4

Page lunged forward, arms outstretched. The rocks crashed to the waves with hearty splashes. If he was paying attention, he could swear some of the droplets even sprayed him on the face. He couldn't, since his fingers closed around Dara's wrist. The sudden snag in weight dragged Page's body across the spire's new edge. His teeth dug against each other, a groan rumbling deep inside his chest. His arms strained.

Dara looked up at him, pale as a sheet. Oh, he was terrified. He has gotten good at hiding his initial reactions to his visions, but even as he foresaw his own future, he wasn't prepared for it. Wild eyes stared up at Page, begging. To be saved? Perhaps.

That was why Page balked when the words escaping Dara's lips were, "Let go."

Page tightened his hold. "Never."

"You can still live," Dara said. "My visions told me you'll move further inland while the entire island sinks. You will travel with the surviving citizens. This place will be known all around the world. It will be in dramas, in scrolls. We will not be forgotten."

"I'd rather the world forget me than lose you," Page answered through gritted teeth. He crawled back, hauling Dara's weight with him. The spire groaned and shook. The waves demanded tribute below. "Not like this."

The ground where Page's upper body hung snapped free. A curse zipped towards the gods as he flailed around for something to hold, something to slow their fall. On his other hand, Dara clawed at his grip. His fingers closed around an exposed root boring through the rocky spire. The world swung as their fall was halted in a flash.

Dara grunted as he picked at Page's hand on his wrist. "Let go!"

"No!" Page yelled back.

Dara's next words were drowned by the waves smashing straight into the heart of the city. Hanging like desperate abseilers on the spire's chipped edge, Page watched the island split into two halves. The shaking never stopped, and the ocean reared back slightly to give way to the motion. The eastern half—where the shop, the trading square, and the woodworker district lay—sank into the water with a fighting blear. With a final push, the tide slammed over it, plunging it with a dreadful finality nature has to offer.

The gods were adamant on erasing their kingdom from the map—that was what Page gathered from the scene unfolding before him. What would that say about him and Dara?

Dara pried himself off Page's grip. No! A swirl of robes and shawl fluttered with the wind as Dara plummeted towards the depths. Page released the root, tumbling after Dara. Horror passed across Dara's face, but Page only saw the endless blue. Together, they slammed into the waves, rock and splinters trailing after. Page squinted in the seething current, searching for Dara's flailing form. He spotted a lump of cloth and sandals on the horizon. There. Paddling his legs, he shot forward. Hands outstretched, he reached out towards Dara. A hulking shadow sped from the west. Page's eyes widened when he realized what it was. No time to swim away.

A boulder slammed into him. Blood trailed in the water, and Page's memory was no more.