Deep Sea Embers

After leaving the lavish mansion of Sara Mel’s estate, Lucretia chose not to head directly back to her home in the city-state. Instead, she made her way to her ship, the Bright Star, which was moored at the bustling port.

As she entered the ship, a whirlwind of vibrant confetti filled the air, carried along by a magical gust. The confetti danced across the deck, spiraled through the ship’s narrow corridors, and fluttered into the captain’s private quarters. Setting down a bottle of spiced wine on a small wooden cabinet beside her, Lucretia moved toward her vanity table. At the table’s center, a crystal ball was prominently displayed, capturing whatever ambient light found its way into the room.

From one corner of the quarters, a large rabbit plush toy, which had been lying dormant on her bed, suddenly came to life. It twitched momentarily before springing up and hopping energetically towards her. “Mistress! You’re finally back! Rabbi was getting so bored without you,” the rabbit exclaimed.

“I’m only here for a short while. I’ll be going back to the city shortly,” Lucretia responded, casting a skeptical glance at the peculiar-looking rabbit plushie named Rabbi. “Has everything been alright on the ship while I’ve been gone?”

“Everything’s been great! Splendid, even!” chirped a young girl’s voice from within the plushie, the tone eager to please. “Rabbi has been watching over everything, just as if you were here yourself!”

“What about last night? While we were anchored here, did anything out of the ordinary happen onshore?” Lucretia probed further.

“Ashore?” Rabbi hesitated, apparently grasping the seriousness in Lucretia’s expression for the first time. The rabbit’s previously upbeat tone quickly became more subdued. “Well, to be honest, I wasn’t really focused on what was happening on land, so I can’t say for certain.”

A small crease appeared between Lucretia’s eyebrows as she grilled the plushie with a few more pointed questions. Eventually, she waved her hand dismissively. “Alright, that’s enough for now. Go wait over there. I’ll have you and Luni accompany me back to the city later.”

“Going to the city?!” Rabbi exclaimed, its voice a blend of surprise and thrill. “You’re taking Rabbi into the city? Are we going to have fun?”

Lucretia moved her hand toward the crystal ball on her vanity table. Pausing to consider Rabbi’s question, she finally broke her silence as her fingers made contact with the crystal surface. “For you, the city adventure may well be quite enjoyable.”

Energized by this prospect, Rabbi gleefully hopped back to the bed, landing with a soft “plop” as it resumed its previous resting position, eagerly awaiting whatever adventures were to come next.

As Lucretia touched the crystal ball, it began to glow and emit a low humming sound. After waiting briefly, a figure started to materialize within the luminescent sphere—Tyrian’s outline gradually sharpened and became more distinct.

“Lucy?” a voice emanated from the glowing orb. “Ah, I was engrossed in a meeting with merchant representatives and didn’t notice the activity on the crystal ball. How are things on your end?”

“I’m doing well,” Lucretia responded, her eyes meeting those of her brother Tyrian in the luminous glow of the crystal ball. She couldn’t help but notice the unmistakable signs of fatigue etched onto his face. Suppressing her own impatience, which had been simmering during her wait, she changed her tone to one of concern. “You look quite busy. Have you managed to find time for rest?”

Tyrian gave a wry shrug. “Honestly, things are better now than they’ve been in some time. At least these days, I get to eat my lunch sitting at an actual table.” His eyes quickly darted around the space visible behind Lucretia as if scanning for another presence. Gathering his courage, he hesitantly asked, “Is father… with you right now?”

“No, he’s not here; he’s tied up with other responsibilities,” Lucretia answered, reading the tension in her brother’s voice. “Don’t worry so much. Papa’s schedule is crammed these days.”

Tyrian let out a subdued “Oh,” before cautiously continuing, “So, how are things between you and him? Any issues I should know about? Do you need my help with anything?”

Lucretia answered casually, “Everything’s perfectly fine.” After pausing for a moment, she subtly angled her head so that a glimmering hair ornament—crafted with an intricate blend of silver waves and feathers—caught the light and appeared within the crystal ball’s frame. “He finally gave me this hairpin, which he’s been owing me for a century. And it looks remarkably well-preserved, don’t you think?”

For a moment, Tyrian’s visage in the crystal ball seemed frozen. The underlying woes that had only just been evident now appeared to crystallize. He was speechless, staring at his sister for what felt like an eternity before finally stammering, “Uh… what?”

“So he didn’t bring you a gift?” Lucretia asked, her face now fully back within the screen, a sincere curiosity lacing her words.

After pausing to collect his thoughts, Tyrian pressed his hand against his forehead and replied with a tone of sheer resignation, “Twenty-four 16-pound cannons, three 32-pounders, and an incalculable amount of 12-pounders…”

Lucretia observed her brother silently for a moment before gently saying, “Well, you were the one who initiated the artillery bombardment.”

“Did you contact me just to make that point?” Tyrian’s voice was tinged with disbelief.

“Absolutely not,” Lucretia replied, her demeanor shifting back to a more somber tone. “There are certain matters I’d like you to keep an eye on, and I want to be notified immediately if anything noteworthy occurs.”

That got Tyrian’s full attention. “What sort of matters are we talking about?”

“Elves,” Lucretia elaborated, her voice steady. “If I’m not mistaken, Frost should also be home to a sizable population of long-term elf residents. The new monitoring system coordinated between the Church, the Explorer’s Association, and various city-states is still in its infancy. It hasn’t become fully operational, so I felt it necessary to reach out to you directly about this.”

……

Nestled behind 99 Crown Street, within a hidden, almost magical backyard framed by dense bushes and lush green plants, was a fence that gave the secluded space an aura of mysterious tranquility. This peaceful atmosphere was suddenly shattered as a burst of flame expanded outward, morphing into a roaring, fiery portal. Duncan and Alice stepped through the gateway as if emerging from another world altogether.

Shirley, who had been peacefully soaking up the sun’s rays in the yard, sprang to her feet in alarm. Then out of the blue, she bolted towards the house but got only two steps before Duncan’s voice rang out, “Where are you going?”

Freezing mid-step, Shirley stood there puzzled for a second. She turned around, scratching her head sheepishly. “Oh, right, where was I going? Sorry, Captain. It was just an automatic reaction, I suppose.”

Duncan frowned as he looked her over. “You’re rather on edge today. Has Lucretia returned?”

“Not yet,” Shirley shook her head. “But Vanna and Morris are back. They’re in the living room.”

Duncan gave a nod of approval. “Good. Let’s go inside and see what intel they’ve collected.”

Alice, who had been holding a large wooden basin brimming with various ingredients, interjected, “I’ll head to the kitchen to put all of this away first. We’re having fish soup for dinner!”

Duncan cast a subtle, knowing glance at Alice. He marveled at her steadiness. Her world was a fortress of logical routines; as long as their ship, the Vanished, wasn’t in immediate danger of exploding, she could go about her daily activities—such as fetching ingredients or cooking—with an undisturbed calm.

He pondered, half-jokingly, that even if the Vanished were to blow up, Alice would probably shake off the shock and calmly ask him what he’d like for dinner that evening. Oddly enough, he found the thought reassuring. In a world filled with uncertainty and chaos, Alice’s single-minded focus on simple, homey tasks was a comforting constant.

Shortly afterward, Duncan found himself in the living room. Vanna and Morris, who had returned from a full day of reconnaissance in the city, were already there, eager to brief him on the situation.

Vanna, seated elegantly on the couch, began her report through the lens of her professional experience as an inquisitor. “From our observations, the anomaly that occurred last night appears to have had a broad impact, affecting not only the local elf population but other racial communities in the city-state as well. The strangest part is, no one seems aware of anything unusual happening.”

She continued, “This morning, I interviewed some mechanics who had just come off their night shift at the steam pump station. They were unable to recall the details of their work last night, which is peculiar. However, they felt convinced that the night had been completely uneventful. It was like they were fully awake but stuck in a state of cognitive dissonance. They were oblivious to the glaring contradictions in their own statements, almost as if…”

Vanna hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she sifted through her thoughts to find the perfect phrase to encapsulate what she’d observed. Finally, she said, “It’s as though they’re ensnared in a sort of ‘lucid dream,’ aware yet unaware, a twilight state that blurs reality and illusion.”

“Interesting,” Duncan said, leaning forward in his chair. “So, to clarify, those who were asleep last night appear to have experienced an unusually dreamless slumber, while those who were awake have ‘misplaced’ chunks of time but still feel as though everything was perfectly routine?” He paused before adding, “And what about signs of psychic influence? Have you explored that angle?”

“Using some discrete divining techniques sanctioned by the Storm Church, I’ve done some preliminary probing,” Vanna confirmed, nodding. “Surprisingly, I found no evidence of psychic contamination or external manipulation. It’s more like they’ve organically developed these incongruent perceptions and memories—or so it would seem.”

Duncan rubbed his chin thoughtfully, letting Vanna’s words marinate in his mind. His eyes then flicked towards Morris, who sat in an armchair across from them. “Morris, what have you discovered?”

Morris straightened up. “I’ve reached out to some contacts at the academy. They’ve initiated an internal investigation and are currently developing response protocols. If all aligns well with what Lucretia is doing, we could see the entire emergency response mechanism of Wind Harbor spring into action.” He paused, sighing deeply, “However, based on what we’ve gathered so far when this ‘Dream of the Nameless One’ escalates, the effect could be city-wide. Our contingency measures might not be as effective as we hope. Only those under your protection seem to be able to function clearly, whether within this so-called dream or outside of it.”Thɪs chapter is updated by NovelEnglish.net

He continued, “I’ve also consulted various scholars well-versed in traditional elven mythology, specifically focusing on the Great Demon God Saslokha, the World Tree Atlantis, and this mysterious ‘Dream of Creation.’ During this research, I stumbled upon some rather esoteric texts.”

Duncan leaned forward, his interest now fully piqued. “Go on. What did you find that’s so intriguing?”

Morris drew a deep breath before reciting the lines,

“‘Saslokha crafted the universe’s inaugural dream, yet comprehended not the nature of dreams;

Mortals gave it the name, leaving him in perplexity;

Born from his befuddlement, the Dreamless One came forth…'”

As Morris spoke, the atmosphere in the room seemed to tighten, the air growing thick with intrigue. The concept of a ‘Dreamless One,’ spawned from the confounding labyrinth of a divine entity’s own mind, was a revelation that rippled through their understanding of the unfolding situation. Duncan, Vanna, and Morris sat in a momentary silence, each absorbed in their own labyrinthine thoughts, contemplating what these newly uncovered poetic lines could mean for the reality they knew—or thought they knew.