I feel my connection to Eris strain and tear like an old fraying rope. My arms just manage to wrap around the two kids though and I squeeze them as tightly as I can.
I remember the last time I experienced a crushing wave. How I had Boots clutched to my chest with all my might and she was still torn away from me. So I squeeze even tighter, not relenting even when the water pulls us under and goes in my nose and in my mouth and into my lungs.
We tumble head over heels, the two children struggle to break my grip out of instinct, not realizing that I'm not the one drowning them. It's the wave. We hit the side of a house, and then what I think must be the stone of the street, but everything is so disorienting that we could just as easily be hitting a ceiling if didn't know that it's hundreds of feet over our heads.
I try my best to shield the children as we crash through the streets of Regalia. I curl my body around them, shoulders hunched and head down, knees pulled up. But I know they're still taking a battering. All I can do is hold on tighter and hope neither of them breaks anything.
There wasn't much air in my lungs when we went under, and now it feels like my throat is trying to claw its way out of my body in search of air. The edges of my consciousness start to fade and I frantically kick out, trying to find something, anything, to push us upward into the air. My foot just catches the corner of what feels like a step and I jerk hard. A second later I'm up, gasping. The children are still fighting and I pull their heads up next to mine, struggling to keep the three of us afloat.
The scene around us is like a nightmare come true. Fliers sweep back and forth overhead, searching for any human that might resurface. The torches are almost all out--all except for the ones highest up on the corners of the tallest houses--and the light reflects erratically off the water. And the water. A wave of horror washes over me as my echolocation reveals more and more of our surroundings.
Bodies. There are bodies in the water. More still and silent than struggling. And most of them are rats.
Then I remember my dream. The one I had during the days I was asleep after Joseph shot me. The one where I was submerged in water and drowning, waves crashing and water churning. Dim light flickering blue through the waves.
I glance around quickly and sure enough, there's the gnawer, belly-up in the water with a nasty gash on his head. Dead.
And over there. A flier as small as an Overland eagle, fur dusty orange and eyes unmoving. A moment later its corpse is sucked under. Dead as well.
And humans scattered here and there. Only a few struggling to stay afloat. Screams and cries for help fill the air, and a heart-wrenching keening from the fliers who have lost their bonds. And the two familiar bats sweep through the air just to my left. One as pale as a ghost, and the other with fur like a thousand silver coins.
I want to wave my arms in the air, to call out to them, but I can't let go of the twins. Every few seconds I have to take a breath and duck my head under to hold them afloat, and when I come up again I have to fight for every inch of holding them up.
Then Eris sweeps by again, heading back to the wall. He has a bleeding old man and a cradle clasped in his claws. He sees me as he goes by and our eyes lock just before I go under again. In that one look I know he's telling me to hold on, that he'll be back as soon as he drops off his human cargo. I just have to hold on for another few minutes.
I stay under the water, keeping the kids up for as long as I can--nearly a minute--before I kick my feet hard to resurface. Suddenly my foot connects with something solid, a hard pebbly surface, and moments later my body rises out of the water of its own accord.
My first reaction is that I'm flying. That Eris must have caught hold of my shirt and pulled me upward. But there'll no flier above me, and the water level slowly sinks from my eyes to my chin, then to my chest. I glance around to see a few others surfacing as well. The water is as reflective as a dark mirror, making everything beneath it invisible. The houses around me, the people, the rats, the bodies, they all seem to be rising out of the water like ghosts floating from graves. My mind struggles to comprehend what's happening while my body shivers and shakes with numbness. I can hardly feel my limbs.
That thought jars my confusion to realize the explanation, obvious as it is. There's solid ground under my numb feet. I'm standing still, and it's the water that's sinking, settling into the soil and stretching further and further through the city like a giant puddle when a glass of water is spilled.
I gently set the twins down, keeping a firm hold on one hand each as they sob against each other. I don't want to let them wander off when they could be hurt. If anything they need a towel and some dry clothes very soon before they catch pneumonia or something. The water was like ice, although I hardly realized it until now.
The little girl turns around now, away from her brother, and stares at something across the street. I follow her gaze and horror rises up inside me at the sight.
A women is lying on her side, motionless. Clothes soaked and dripping water, but there are no signs of cuts or scrapes on her skin. No red bloody flowers spreading around her. Her back however, is bent in one place to nearly a right angle, and her hips twist to the side impossibly, seeming almost separate from her shoulders and chest. The only explanation is that her spine broke on impact with something, a building. I know immediately, without echolocation and without searching for a pulse, that she is dead. I gently place my hand on the girl's shoulder and turn her against me. She buries her head against my leg, but her brother's head twists around like an owl, eyes wide and absorbing everything.
I try not to look but can't help it, just like the boy. There's a dead rat leaning against the side of a house, his jaw hanging limply open, tongue lolling with blood.
The body of an old man is less than twenty yards away, impaled through the stomach by what has to be his own sword. Red blossoms spread through the water beneath him, dark and familiar.
The rusty orange flier is even closer, caught up in the doorway of a house around the corner. Neck twisted at an odd angle.
But worst of all is the body of a toddler in the center of an intersection, right where two streets meet like the pasta of a cross. A lilac bruise is spreading like a shadow across its pale forehead.
Part of me is screaming, "Help them! Go to them! You can still save them!" and the sound drowns out almost everything around me. But the other part of me, the part in tune with my sixth sense, is merely hollow and dazed. There is no warmth inside the people, the flier and gnawer. No glimmer of the red that signifies heat and movement and beating hearts. My hands start to tremble but I quickly suppress the motion. I don't want to scare the little twins more than they already are.
My eyes are drawn skyward seemingly of their own accord, and like a bent branch snapping back to its original form, my eyes focus back on Eris. He lands next to me in a flutter of wings, silvery fur shimmering with water droplets like a thousand tiny mirrors.
"Take them." I say. Pushing the two children onto his back. "I'm going to look for survivors."
"You're injured, Gregor." Eris hisses softly.
"I'm fine." I say firmly. The only thing I feel is cold. And the desire to fill this hollowness that's opening up inside me like a pit. Like the pit that Henry fell into the first time I came here. And now that pit is consuming so many others and I need to find someone, anyone, who is still hanging onto the edge of life.
Eris takes off without another word, not arguing. I'm grateful for that. For his acceptance of my decision.
I wander through the streets, sensing the odd lumps and forms of the dead. Those standing and walking are quickly picked up by fliers and carried to the walls for medical help, but I check for the ones that aren't visibly moving. A few fluttering hearts catch my attention and I yell and wave each time, until a few fliers land. Their riders take it from there, transferring the body--be it rat or human--onto the back of a flier, and I move on to the next street.
Everything blurs together. I don't know how many living I find, and I don't know how many streets I cover. At one point I seem to be going in circles, and the dead forms start to look the same--faceless and formless. I sense an old woman's heartbeat and when I look I can almost swear I found her dead body not that long before. For all I know I could have passed her three times, I'm so lost in the streets. Or I could just be imagining it and I haven't seen her in my life.
Finally I come to the end of a row of houses and find myself looking out at the fields of Regalia. I remember the last time I was here, when I was attacked by diggers trying to get into the palace. When my skin was sliced open and my blood mingled with the planted soil.
     Then, the ground was dry and almost sandy, and I couldn't believe that they coaxed plants to grow at all in the soil. But now the dirt is moist and gritty. My sandals sink into it slightly, like they would in a healthy Overland field.
I'm not the only one here though. A figure stands a few hundred yards away, also looking at the field. His skin is darker and out of place in the torchlight I now always associate with the Underland. Pale blonde hair outlines his face. He holds somehting silver in his hand, but his figure is blurry and I can't make it out.
I squint, trying to focus on it, but my vision only darkens further. My body gives a great throb of pain, like every muscle is vibrating in tune to a sudden physical scream. I gasp, and the world tilts abruptly and slowly at the same time. A small sob escapes me as I descend into shadow.