Deep Sea Embers

In a forest bathed in the soft, fading glow of twilight, Lucretia found herself walking several steps behind a mysterious elven woman. The elf was armed with an unusual weapon that featured a long handle and a complex, intricate design. Together, they ventured deeper into the labyrinthine wilderness that lay before them.

The elven woman navigated the forest with astonishing speed, seemingly unfazed by the rough, uneven ground or the maze of tangled vines and undergrowth that blocked their path. Unlike someone trudging through a difficult terrain, her movements were fluid and swift, as if she were running along a smooth, unobstructed highway. Lucretia was struck by this, as it echoed ancient tales she had heard about elves—mythical beings who were once inextricably linked to the wild expanses of mythical realms. These legends spoke of elves who moved through their forested homelands as effortlessly as the wind blows through the trees, a far cry from the elves of modern times who have largely abandoned their woodland skills in favor of building and living in towering urban centers.

As for Lucretia, she knew without even attempting it that keeping pace with this woodland sprite was beyond her abilities. After all, she was more accustomed to the comforts of indoor activities and relied on magical spells for transportation when travel was unavoidable. So, she quickly invoked her illusionary wind spell when she found herself lagging behind for the first time. This incantation enabled her to momentarily transform herself into fluttering sheets of paper that whisked through the trees, rapidly closing the distance between her and the elf. She felt a sense of relief that her father was not around this time to interfere with the maneuver. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ N(o)vᴇl(ꜰ)ire.nᴇt

What concerned her slightly, however, was how the elf—whom she met in this dream-like realm she called a “dreamscape”—would react to her use of such unconventional magic. Surprisingly, the elf did not react at all, just as she hadn’t reacted when she first realized that Lucretia was human and not another elf. Instead, she seemed intent on leading her to a location referred to as the “Silent Wall.”

Curious and speculative, Lucretia decided to conduct a series of tests to understand the nature of this dreamscape and its inhabitants. She deliberately performed actions that were out of place and disruptive, like pausing to cast spells that produced loud noises, summoned enormous, creaking vines, or even resulted in small, fiery explosions in the air.

The elf’s demeanor remained unchanged. She would only pause if Lucretia fell too far behind, patiently waiting for her to catch up before proceeding.

Deciding to put her experiments on hold for the moment, Lucretia returned to following the elf. Simultaneously, she used a remote magical medium through her puppets to share her findings with her father: “Based on my initial tests, I am fairly certain that this elven woman is not the creator, or ‘dreamer,’ of this dreamscape. Rather, she seems to function more like a part or element within this dream world. Her reactions are extremely limited as if a ‘normalization filter’ is applied to her perception. This filter appears to make any unusual actions by outsiders like me seem ‘normal’ to her, likely to maintain the structural integrity and stability of this dream reality.”

“I haven’t yet tried any high-impact experiments, so the boundaries of this ‘normalization’ are still unknown. If I were to take actions that are too disruptive or extreme, it could potentially cause the elf’s cognitive functions to restart, or even result in me being forcibly ejected from this dreamscape. For now, my focus will be on cautiously continuing my investigation…”

“Ah, you’ve managed to penetrate the area where the irregularity is taking place? Excellent. Finding the ‘dreamer’ from your end in the real world should provide us with the means to intervene and possibly manipulate the dream realm from this side.”

Just as Lucretia was engrossed in her telepathic communication with an external entity, a voice unexpectedly interrupted her thoughts. Startled, she came to an abrupt stop and focused her attention on the path ahead.

The elven maiden, who was wielding a long-handled axe of exquisite craftsmanship, turned to face her. Her golden hair was intricately braided and interwoven with threads of a mystical blue hue, giving her an ethereal appearance. Her eyes met Lucretia’s, full of a unique blend of curiosity and earnestness.

“My name is Lucretia,” she answered straightforwardly. “Why do you ask? What’s the significance of my name all of a sudden?”

“The more individuals who know your name, the greater the likelihood that you’ll be remembered,” responded the elf, who identified herself as Shireen. Lucretia couldn’t help but notice a tangible undercurrent of concern, even worry, reflected in Shireen’s eyes.

Throughout their journey, Lucretia had been peripherally aware of a certain level of tension surrounding the mysterious elf. In fact, this feeling seemed to permeate the very atmosphere of the forest, as if it was woven into the very fabric of the dream world in which they found themselves.

Sensing that something deeper was at play, Lucretia hesitated briefly before asking, “What’s going on here? What’s really happening?”

Shireen appeared to be caught in an internal debate, unsure whether to offer an explanation or maintain her reticence. It seemed as if she believed that certain truths were too delicate to be shared. Ultimately, she opted to shake her head and stated, “No need for concern. The Silent Wall will shield us; all shall be well. Let’s hurry; we are vulnerable to corruption outside the protection of the Silent Wall. You’re fortunate to have encountered a forest protector like me.”

Corruption—this was a term that instantly piqued Lucretia’s interest. She mentally cataloged the word for later analysis. Without further ado, she quickened her steps to match Shireen’s brisk pace as they plunged deeper into the seemingly endless expanse of thick forest.

…..

“Dog, have you detected any unusual activity?”

In the vast, dark wilderness that stretched endlessly around her, a young lady named Shirley crouched behind a bush, keeping her eyes peeled for any movement while she telepathically communicated with Dog, her demonic hound companion lurking somewhere in the shadows.

“I hear the wind rustling through the leaves, various bird calls, and the typical sounds of a forest. However, something feels off,” Dog’s voice echoed directly into her mind. “It’s difficult to articulate, but it’s as if the very environment is shifting. The trees surrounding us no longer seem inert; it’s like they’re gradually gaining a malevolent sentience.”

A shiver of dread cascaded down Shirley’s spine as she heard this, and her eyes became wide with apprehension. As she looked around at the colossal trees that surrounded her, her arm began to morph, taking on distinct demonic characteristics. “Your observations are quite unsettling, Dog, especially considering we’re enveloped by trees here.”

“I only spoke the truth of what I sense,” Dog responded tersely. “You might want to take my impressions seriously. The sensory abilities of a dark hound are notoriously acute. Something’s not right; this forest is becoming increasingly disquieting.”

“It’s pretty obvious that something’s very wrong here,” Shirley whispered to herself as she cautiously emerged from her hiding spot behind a bush. While she couldn’t identify exactly what felt different in her surroundings, her instincts screamed at her that staying put was not an option.

As she scanned her environment, all she saw was an impenetrable wall of vegetation—trees so dense and darkness so absolute that they were unfathomable to her, a young woman raised in the slums of her homeland. She had only recently even heard of such wild places through conversations with her ship’s captain and others. Yet, somehow, she found herself in this uncanny forest after a brief doze. If her speculations were accurate, this might be the “Dream of the Nameless One” the captain and Miss Lucretia mentioned.

An unsettling chill gripped her as she contemplated her situation, causing her to grimace slightly. “Maybe falling asleep while doing my homework wasn’t the best idea.”

“Napping while doing homework probably didn’t land you in this bizarre alternate reality,” Dog’s voice resonated in her mind as he materialized beside her, his form cloaked in shadow. “But you’re correct about one aspect: sleeping through homework is a bad habit.”

“Math just makes my head spin,” Shirley retorted, her tone tinged with a kind of relief, as if discussing mundane matters offered a momentary escape from the ominous aura enveloping them. “I can read and write well enough. Why do I have to slog through numbers?”

Dog paused, considering her words, before finally responding, “Life is not just about reading and writing. Basic arithmetic skills are crucial too, even for your survival.”

Shirley quirked her lips in mild annoyance. “Why do you care so much about my education? Sometimes you’re more gung-ho about it than the captain himself.”

Dog fell silent, so silent in fact that Shirley almost thought he’d chosen to avoid the conversation. But eventually, he spoke. “Remember the incident with the seventy-two pesos?”

Shirley’s eyes widened as if sifting through layers of long-buried memories, finally landing on an episode she’d rather forget.

Her expression became a complex tapestry of emotions. “You still remember that? That was ages ago.”

“Of course I remember,” Dog started, his tone tinged with regret. “You were scammed out of several days’ worth of earnings from chimney sweeping by some scoundrel who tricked you with counterfeit money. If I had been able to read back then, perhaps you wouldn’t have had to go hungry for days. And if you could have read, maybe you wouldn’t have had to endure the dangers of sweeping chimneys. Even a safer apprenticeship in a boiler room, recording numbers, would have been an upgrade.”

Shirley found herself unable to reply for a moment.

After a significant pause, she finally said softly, “But you can read now, Dog. You’re not just literate; you’re even neck-and-neck with Nina in your studies.”

Dog’s reply was more of a hushed murmur than a vocalization. “But what if I can’t always be there with you?”

Shirley hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for the right words. Finally, she blurted out, “What about the captain? Isn’t he supposed to be there?”

“The captain is reliable, yes, but even he can’t guarantee your safety at all times, especially with the unpredictable nature of subspace,” Dog said, his tone unusually grave. “In the end, Shirley, you have to be your own safeguard.”

Her eyes lowered, fixed on the forest floor littered with leaves and detritus. She remained silent for several moments, her hand idly fingering the chain that connected her to Dog. “When you say you might not always be with me… what exactly do you mean by that?”

“I don’t want you to dwell on it; I was merely stating a hypothetical situation,” Dog sighed, a low sound that seemed to resonate from the depths of his shadowy form. “I have no plans to leave you, but it’s also hard for me to predict what the future holds. I’m an anomaly, a shadow demon with a ‘heart,’ something that’s never existed in this world before. Who’s to say what transformations might occur within me over time? It’s possible that having a ‘heart’ could bestow a finite lifespan upon me, akin to your human limitations. Alternatively, my ability to reason might deteriorate as time passes, or my ‘heart’ could vanish altogether.”

“Dog, stop,” Shirley abruptly cut in, pulling sharply on the chain that tethered them together. Her eyes were wide, filled with a mix of emotions she couldn’t immediately name. “Just stop talking like that, okay?”

“Fine, I’ll stop,” Dog said, his tone tinged with relief, as if he too was uncomfortable with the road their conversation had started to take.