Deep Sea Embers

During the disarray of twilight, a peculiar moment where the world seemed to be woven from both sunlight and the essence of the World’s Creation, Duncan and his companions made swift progress through the abandoned, hushed streets. Their journey took them to a crossroad that was overrun and choked by a profusion of vegetation.

Imposing trees, with their vast branches, stood tall as if they were sentinels of the skies, leaving little room for the sky to be seen. Bizarrely contorted vines had entangled themselves around the skyscrapers nearby. The roots of these plants appeared to burst forth from beneath the earth, weaving across the street resembling the angry veins of some gigantic creature. Amidst the almost ghostly quietude of this urban jungle, occasional bird calls and rustling of leaves punctuated the silence, giving an impression that they straddled the line between the realms of dreams and waking life.

“It remains just as we left it,” Duncan mused aloud, his gaze fixed on the sprawling vine which seemed to emerge from an unknown abyss, his voice laden with introspection.

Straining her neck to gain a clearer perspective, Alice noted how the vine seemed to dominate the landscape even more now. She cautiously asked, “Captain, doesn’t this growth appear… bigger than before? I recall it wasn’t this widespread during our last visit.”

“You’re right,” replied Duncan, a weight to his sigh, “It’s expanding.”

Alice blinked, processing the magnitude of what was before them, and uttered an astonished, “Incredible.”

Duncan’s thoughts swiftly shifted, taking a mental roll call of his companions, particularly concerned about Vanna’s current circumstances.

Besides Duncan and a couple of his close allies, the rest of the group had found themselves in the Dream of the Nameless One, just as they had before. Strangely, their entry points in this dream were consistent with their past experiences, hinting at a peculiar consistency within this dream dimension.

Vanna’s situation, however, was particularly puzzling.

Once more, she was trapped in a desolate, never-ending desert. Yet, this experience was different; she met a colossal figure who introduced himself as a “god.”

Now, she walked beside this seemingly kind-hearted giant, traversing the endless dunes. From their communications, the giant had regaled her with numerous tales tied to the desert’s lore.

But these stories significantly deviated from the age-old legends Duncan heard from other’s accounts, legends that were universally recognized in their world.

What was the secret behind this desert? Who exactly was this self-proclaimed deity-like figure? How did forgotten ages and the tales of the elves intertwine? And most importantly, why was such a bizarre locale embedded deep within the Dream of the Nameless One?

Duncan had always maintained a profound mental bond with his companions, allowing him to feel their emotions and thoughts. To gain clarity, he took a moment to inhale deeply, drawing the air into his lungs and then releasing it as if letting go of any lingering distractions. Once centered, he shifted his focus back to the immediate issue.

Seeing the massive vine once more in their physical realm was surprisingly comforting. Duncan had harbored concerns that the traumatic events of their last meeting might have triggered unforeseen alterations within the mysterious Dream of the Nameless One. He feared this could have led to the vine vanishing or shifting elsewhere. Such a twist would have greatly hampered his investigative progress. Fortunately, this pivotal hint in their quest was still present, albeit with a concerning modification—it had grown substantially.

Duncan pondered the implications. What if the vine kept growing unchecked? Could it eventually entwine and consume the entirety of the city?

Pushing away the rising panic from such a grim possibility, Duncan regained his composure. He gently approached the vine and outstretched his hand, letting his fingers lightly graze its surface.

“Stay vigilant and monitor our environment,” he commanded the duo accompanying him. “Should anything out of the ordinary transpire, rouse me at once.”

Alice, her posture exuding readiness, affirmed with a quick, “Understood!”

Luni, in a humble and deferential manner, acknowledged, “As you wish, Old Master.”

Reassured by their responses, Duncan took a moment to quiet his racing mind. He then invoked the mystical energy of the flame. This power surged through him, enhancing his senses, enabling him to merge his consciousness with the vast vine, and strengthening their bond.

Given the lessons from their prior interaction, Duncan was extra vigilant to ensure he did not unintentionally agitate the entity known as “Atlantis.”

After what felt like mere moments, he was jolted back into consciousness, enveloped by inky blackness.

The omnipresent haze returned, obscuring his vision.

Guided by his intuition, he strained his eyes, trying to pierce through the dense fog.

Gradually, a hulking, vague outline began to solidify. The mist danced and twirled, revealing the majestic form of a ship he had come to recognize. The ship, awe-inspiring in its splendor, seemed to hover ethereally in the abyss, almost as though beckoning Duncan closer.

Without hesitation, he heeded the call.

Summoning a spiritual manifestation of himself in the void, Duncan adeptly harnessed the surrounding flames to propel him towards the Mysterious ship, nestled deep within the fog. With a graceful descent, he alighted on its deck.

Echoing his prior visit, the ship was eerily devoid of any life. Wisps of mist floated lazily, the ship’s architecture casting long, shifting shadows on the fog-blanketed deck.

However, Duncan had a different agenda this time. Instead of making a beeline for the captain’s quarters located at the ship’s stern, he surveyed his surroundings and chose a new path.

With every step he took on the deck, the sounds echoed hauntingly in the vast, silent void. He adeptly maneuvered around piles of ropes and miscellaneous ship equipment strewn about, making his way to the entrance of the ship’s main cabin.

On the ship’s deck, Duncan observed stacks of ropes and an assortment of other maritime items, all lying motionless in an unsettling stillness, just as any non-living object would in any ordinary scenario.

However, Duncan discerned a striking difference between this uncanny incarnation of the Vanished and the one he was familiar with: In his memories aboard the “authentic Vanished,” objects on the deck possessed an almost sentient nature. As he approached them, they would animate in response to his presence—either cheerfully acknowledging their captain or producing peculiar sounds in playful attempts to draw his gaze. But here, despite the two ships being nearly indistinguishable in design and appearance, everything aboard this vessel seemed void of life, eerily “lifeless.”

With a hint of confusion etching his brow, Duncan’s eyes roamed over the quiet coils of ropes, half-filled buckets of water, and rusted iron hooks. In the midst of these, he abruptly paused, his gaze settling intently on a mop casually propped against a wooden partition.

After a beat, comprehension dawned on him: That mop had been positioned there by Alice when she had been on the ship earlier!

Could it be that this haunting replica of the Vanished not only mirrored its tangible twin but also dynamically updated based on the real-time happenings aboard the genuine ship?

His mind swirled with burgeoning theories. Duncan felt tantalizingly close to unraveling some intrinsic truth about this mysterious “Vanished.” But just as he was lost in thought, a subtle, whispery noise from a nearby corner jolted him back to the present.

In the profound silence that shrouded this spectral ship, such an unexpected noise was incredibly jarring.

Without hesitation, Duncan pinpointed the sound’s origin and approached it.

He found himself facing a window.

On the pane, a nebulous, smog-like shadow began to materialize. This apparition, seemingly constructed from particles of shadowy dust amalgamated with the dense fog, appeared to be trying to assume a recognizable form.

Duncan intently observed the ever-evolving shadow for a tense few moments. Recognition slowly dawned on him, and he softly murmured, “Agatha?”

Hearing her name, the previously morphing shadow swiftly stabilized, crystallizing into a vivid image on the window within mere seconds—Agatha’s familiar figure was now clearly depicted on the glass.

Exhaling with relief, the reflected Agatha responded, “Finally, you’ve noticed me. I’ve been attempting to reach out from these shadows, desperately searching for a suitable reflective surface to manifest through…”

Still absorbing the startling revelation, Duncan responded, “How did you manage to be here?” Then, piecing together clues, he speculated, “Did you enter via the reflected image of the Vanished?”

Nodding in affirmation, Agatha replied, “Indeed, I remained within the Vanished’s reflection as night descended. It seemed a gamble, but it bore fruit. With the modifications within the reflection, I’ve found my way here and, consequently, to you. My hypothesis seems to have been validated: at nightfall, the ‘shadow’ of our missing Vanished transmutes into this ‘alternate Vanished’ you’ve encountered. The precise mechanics remain elusive, but we’ve unmistakably established a link between the two manifestations of the Vanished.”

Duncan’s brows furrowed, and he remained silent momentarily as he processed what he had heard, leaving Agatha slightly anxious. “Did I overstep by taking this action without consulting you first?”

“Indeed, you should have consulted me beforehand. However, that’s not what I’m contemplating right now,” Duncan gestured dismissively. “While you stayed on the ‘reflection’ side, did you observe how this transformation specifically occurred? Was there any distinct activity or shift within the Vanished at that time?”

Agatha shook her head, “There was no process.”

“No process?”ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ɴovᴇl_Firᴇ.ɴet

“Everything changed in an instant, with no transitional phase,” Agatha reiterated. “One second, I was inside the reflection of the Vanished, observing and waiting for any potential shifts in the mirrored world. The very next moment, the atmosphere within this mirrored realm altered. I could sense… the shadow of the Vanished metamorphosing into something unfamiliar to me. My ability to hop between mirrors was suppressed, making me unable to discern the boundaries between the spiritual realm and the real world. I couldn’t return to the regular mirrors in the real world either. It felt as if… the entire world was becoming unusually viscous, gradually solidifying…”

Duncan listened intently to Agatha’s description, then slowly turned his gaze towards the direction of the aft deck.

That was the location of the captain’s quarters, where the “other goat head” was situated.

“Can you move freely now?” Duncan suddenly inquired.

“It seems I’m no longer affected,” Agatha quickly responded, a hint of astonishment in her voice. “After you became aware of my presence, that peculiar oppressive feeling magically disappeared.”

“Good,” Duncan nodded approvingly. “Then come with me – we need to have another encounter with that ‘first mate’ who seems a bit… off.”