Deep Sea Embers

In the city-state of Pland, an unprecedented phenomenon had occurred – the sun mysteriously extinguished. This extraordinary event cast an eerie darkness over the city, instantly throwing the populous into a wave of panic and pandemonium. However, before the escalating chaos could spiral out of control, the city’s vigilant guardians and sheriffs swiftly stepped in. Their timely intervention played a crucial role in establishing order amidst the mounting confusion.

The faint but steady tolling of bells from a small chapel resonated above the hushed streets. The melodic chimes seemed to possess an ethereal, calming quality that somehow instilled a sense of courage in the city dwellers. Meanwhile, the city’s mechanical foot machines, known as steam walkers, treaded through the labyrinthine alleyways, broadcasting critical instructions from the City Hall to the terrified citizens.

Alongside Road II, gas lamps were hurriedly lit by the city’s operatives. The terrified residents hurried about, attempting to return to their homes’ safety or seeking refuge in specially designated “nightfall shelters”. At the same time, well-equipped defenders briskly moved through the crowd. Their main tasks were to ensure the shelter’s safety and investigate any anomalies or mysterious occurrences that may have arisen in the sudden blanket of darkness.

In this unsettling situation, a young woman named Heidi swiftly lit every source of light in her house – from gas lamps empowered with sacred energy to simple oil lamps and even bright electric lights. The comforting glow from these sources not only helped keep the enveloping darkness at bay but also alleviated Heidi’s mounting anxiety. From somewhere near the living room, Heidi’s mother’s voice rang out, gently chiding her for her frantic actions, “Relax, Heidi, don’t rush about so. The end of the world isn’t upon us just yet.”

Turning around, Heidi saw her mother sitting placidly on the sofa, just as she would on any other day, nonchalantly resuming her reading of a pile of letters that she had put aside at the onset of the unexpected darkness. Her mother’s face bore a calm and gentle expression, seemingly unaffected by the dire circumstances. Despite the sun’s extinguishment being a significant crisis, Heidi found herself in awe of her mother’s unflappable demeanor in such testing times.

Her own nerves, however, were quite a different story.

“How can you still focus on your letters?” Heidi asked incredulously.

“Well, Heidi, do you think that if I put down these letters, the sun will magically reignite?” Her mother finally turned to look at her, a flicker of resignation in her eyes. “Now, all we can do is place our trust in the authorities at City Hall and the Storm Cathedral. We must believe that a force greater than us is watching over and protecting our city.”

Heidi responded with a silent nod, her hand subconsciously clutching the pendant that hung around her neck.

“How I wish Vanna were here,” Heidi murmured, “I could ask her about all of this. Father isn’t around either.”

Heidi was so engrossed in her thoughts that she failed to notice the subtle change in her mother’s expression upon hearing Heidi’s musings. After a moment, the older woman spoke, her voice steady, “If the sun indeed has gone out, it’s a global phenomenon, not just limited to our city. Vanna and your father will have witnessed it too. They are surely doing their best in their respective capacities to find a solution. As for you, my dear, you need to calm down and consider your own responsibilities in this situation.”

Heidi’s anxiety seemed to abate slightly. She turned her gaze to a robust and finely-crafted briefcase resting unobtrusively in the corner of the room. It held an assortment of tools and potions she used in her medical practice. Lately, the nights in Pland had been unusually peaceful, and she hadn’t had a need to utilize some of the more powerful items in her medical kit.

“Many people will likely need psychological counseling,” Heidi’s mother mused, her voice filled with calming wisdom. “I suspect it won’t be long before City Hall sends someone to collect you. Remember, even though the sun has seemingly disappeared, our city has not fallen.”

With a soft sigh, Heidi approached her medical case, “Alright, you’re right, the end of the world isn’t here yet, and my overtime hasn’t ended.”

“And don’t forget to bring your gun on your rounds…” her mother reminded her gently, “Pland has been significantly safer recently, but people in distress can be unpredictable. If need be, you’ll have to take drastic measures to handle your patients.”

“Of course.” Heidi acknowledged her mother’s advice casually.

She opened a hidden compartment at the bottom of her briefcase to reveal a finely crafted revolver and several spare ammunition cases. After a quick inspection to ensure the firearm was in working condition, she murmured with a touch of regret, “In the end… gunpowder is also a form of medicine.”

…..

Meanwhile, at a different part of the city, Tyrian stood before a large, floor-length mirror in his domed office. He addressed the mirror with a grave expression, “I have dispatched the city guardians and sheriffs, so there’s no need to worry about maintaining order within Frost for the time being.”

The city was still grappling with the unease that lingered in the aftermath of the recent mirror crisis. The silver lining, as Tyrian pointed out, was that the prevailing tension had expedited the execution of various emergency protocols.

Glowing with an eerie green flame that danced on its surface like a haunting veil, the mirror reflected the silhouette of a figure named Duncan, who stood amidst the shadows within. As Tyrian finished his briefing, Duncan gave a nod of acknowledgment and asked, “Very well. Have there been any reports of supernatural phenomena within the city thus far?”

Tyrian was quick to respond, “Nothing as of now.”

“However,” he added, “I’ve dispatched extra personnel to closely monitor locations like hospitals. Similarly, the cathedral is arranging for its people to conduct thorough inspections of the nightfall shelters, graveyards, and the areas with poor lighting…”

“Keep in mind,” Duncan interjected, “that post its transformation, ‘darkness’ in Frost no longer poses a threat in itself. The real concerns are widespread panic and mental breakdowns amongst the citizens. As for the graveyards, there’s no need for extra manpower there. I will personally keep an eye on that sector.”

“Understood,” Tyrian nodded, then hesitated a moment before cautiously inquiring, “And what about the situation on your end? Is the Vanished faring okay?”

“You need not worry about us, nothing poses a threat to the Vanished.”

Duncan’s response was calm. “Nina has ignited a temporary sun in our sky. We are still on course, moving south as planned. The sea around us is surprisingly calm, even more so than we anticipated.”

Tyrian breathed a sigh of relief, “It appears I was worrying unnecessarily.”

“Have you been able to establish contact with Wind Harbor?” Duncan’s voice echoed from the mirror, “What’s the status with Lucretia?”

“I have managed to get through to her recently; she just made it back to the Bright Star. For now, she’s safe. She confirmed that she witnessed the sun’s extinguishment from Wind Harbor as well, but the situation there is less chaotic than Frost. Thanks to a peculiar ‘fallen object’, most of Wind Harbor is still bathed in ‘sunlight’. The anomaly in the sky is unsettling, yet it doesn’t cast as horrifying an image as it does here in Frost.”

“That’s a relief. Maintain communication and keep a close watch on the city-state’s developments.”

“Of course,” Tyrian acknowledged, then paused, a hint of hesitance creeping into his voice. “There’s another matter that I should bring to your attention…”

“Go on,” Duncan urged, his frown deepening in the mirror, “In times like these, no information is insignificant.”

“We seem to have lost contact with the other city-states. This includes the far-off ones and our immediate neighbors like Cold Harbor,” Tyrian admitted cautiously. “Telegrams have ceased, the signal towers at sea are unresponsive, and even psychic communications within the cathedral have been interrupted. Currently, we’re barely managing to maintain contact with two city-states – Pland and Wind Harbor. Communication with the other city-states has been severed.”

Upon hearing this, Duncan’s expression instantly hardened. “How long has this been the case?” he inquired.

“As soon as the sun extinguished, we realized that we had lost touch with Cold Harbor, and it became apparent that it’s the same story with the other city-states.”

Tyrian was prompt in his reply. “I’ve issued an urgent recall for all ships in the vicinity of Frost’s waters and imposed a maritime ban, prohibiting any vessels from setting sail.”

Even as Tyrian communicated this, there were certain fears he kept to himself.

Ever since the disconnection with the other city-states, a nagging anxiety had taken root in his mind.

He harbored a dread that beyond the city-states, in areas that remained devoid of sunlight, the Boundless Sea had morphed into something beyond human comprehension.

“Persist in your efforts to re-establish contact with the other city-states,” Duncan’s voice echoed from the mirror, interrupting Tyrian’s disconcerting thoughts, “and should you hear anything new from Lucy, notify me without delay.”

“Understood, Father.”

As the connection with the Vanished terminated, silence once again permeated Tyrian’s spacious domed office. He raised a hand to massage his somewhat aching brow, then reached to press the bell on his desk. The office door swung open and Aiden walked in. Tyrian raised his gaze to instruct his most trusted subordinate, “Exercise caution with the ships returning from the darkness. Until the sun is relit, do not permit them to approach the city-state rashly. Establish a buffer zone in the near-sea waters. All ships returning would be directed to halt there temporarily, pending inspection and clearance.”

As the mirror in front of him gradually regained its calm, the green flames retreated to the corner of the mirror’s edge. Duncan exhaled lightly, his gaze drawn to the radiant “sunlight” still bathing the Vanished deck and the sea’s vast expanse surrounding it. However, beyond the reach of that sunlight, the entirety of the Boundless Sea remained shrouded in an eerie darkness.

It was a disconcerting sight; even the typically boisterous goat head maintained silence on the sea chart table. Only Alice was obliviously sunbathing her quilt on the deck…

With a rub of his forehead, Duncan worked hard to ignore the doll sprawled on the deck, sunning her quilt.

He then marshaled his focus, mentally reaching out to the flame suspended in the sky.

“Nina, how are things on your end? Are you feeling tired?”

“Not at all,” Nina’s voice, imbued with the vigor of the flame, echoed in Duncan’s mind almost instantly. “I didn’t fly very high; I can maintain this position for an extended period.”

“What’s the state of the surrounding sea?”

“Um… there’s nothing. The surrounding sea is completely still, devoid of even a ripple. Uncle Duncan, have you thought of something?”

“Not quite, but remain vigilant, especially in those areas where the light and darkness converge,” Duncan instructed calmly. “If something, like a ship, emerges nearby, alert me at once.”

Nina’s voice responded promptly, “Okay.”

With a grunt of affirmation, Duncan ended his conversation with Nina. His gaze returned to the mirror before him as he collected his thoughts. He stepped forward and gently swept his hand across the mirror surface, “Lawrence, what’s the situation on your end?”