Deep Sea Embers

Intending to employ her mystical techniques, Lucretia ignited three candelabras positioned discreetly in the corner of the laboratory. She then sprinkled a special blend of herbal powder, which she had meticulously crafted, into an incense burner situated before the candles. With a sense of purpose, she moved closer to Taran El and strategically placed various mystical artifacts around him, including crystals and shards of bone.

Two peculiar assistants accompanied her in the lab: Luni, a mechanical doll encased in ceramic, and Rabbi, a toy rabbit. They both observed her with attentive eyes, and sensing the gravity of the situation from her expression, Luni ventured to ask, “Is it dire? Is the elf’s very existence at stake?”

“The true nature of the situation eludes us, making it even more troubling,” answered Lucretia with a heavy tone. “It’s believed that Taran El slipped into this state after attempting to gaze upon the sun. If these events are interconnected, it could mean there are others out there suffering a similar fate. During the period when the sun vanished, countless individuals might have looked up in awe or curiosity. The pressing question remains: how many of them succumbed to this kind of profound slumber due to their actions, especially those as audacious as our elven scholar here?”

She paused, reflecting on her thoughts, then added, “While Taran El’s courage is undeniable, the vast domain of the Boundless Sea houses countless scholars with equal, if not more, audacity.”

Rabbi, with his soft-spoken demeanor, hopped forward and inquired, “What do you require of us next?”

Lucretia detailed her plan, “I intend to delve into Taran El’s dream realm in an effort to guide him back to our reality. Given the unpredictability of this dream world, I need you both to closely monitor the candelabras here. If I remain unresponsive for three hours, ensure you extinguish the candles sequentially, starting from the tallest and ending with the shortest. This act will serve as a safety measure, pulling me back to consciousness.”

Luni affirmed, “Three hours, and in the specified order. I’ll make certain of it.”

With boundless enthusiasm and hope in his voice, Rabbi suggested, “I could accompany Mistress into the dream! After all, Rabbi is adept at navigating dreams!”

“One nightmare at a time is all I can handle,” Lucretia promptly responded, rejecting Rabbi’s well-intentioned offer. “The last thing I need is for a renowned scholar like Taran El to meet his untimely end under my watch aboard this ship.”

Rabbi’s ears drooped as his hopes were dashed. He murmured in a disappointed tone, “Alright, Rabbi gets it.” With each step heavier than the last, he ambled to a quiet corner of the lab and settled onto the floor with a soft, despondent ‘plop’, his plush form sagging with sadness.

Lucretia threw a sympathetic glance in Rabbi’s direction, though she chose not to pursue any further dialogue with him at that moment. She mentally ran through a checklist, ensuring every element for her forthcoming ritual was in place. Settling herself on an ornate, high-backed chair that faced Taran El, she confidently snapped her fingers.

The previously calm flames of the three candelabras suddenly danced as if cloaked in a mystical mist. The entire laboratory was bathed in an enchanting luminescence, every object shimmering with a surreal glow. Lucretia, the famed “Sea Witch”, gracefully lowered her head, allowing herself to be drawn into the depths of the dream realm.

…

On the vessel christened as the “Vanished”, Morris and Duncan were seated by a detailed navigation table within the confines of the captain’s private chamber. Behind them, a large, ornately framed oval mirror showcased the vague silhouette of Agatha.

Duncan, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve, said, “Ai has conducted a preliminary aerial reconnaissance. The vast landmass approaching us has been verified as Wind Harbor.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, “As of now, the Vanished remains hidden, enveloped by the spirit realm. We’ll touch base with Lucretia to gain insights into the prevailing circumstances of the city-state before we set foot there. However, the baffling mystery we currently grapple with is the unanticipated movement of our ship, the Vanished.”

With evident vexation, Morris pulled out his pipe, taking a thoughtful puff. “I’m utterly confounded,” he admitted, the furrows in his brow deepening with concern. “I’ve been privy to accounts of various spontaneous ‘teleportation’ occurrences. Some stem from unique phenomena, while others are triggered by curse anomalies, like the one dubbed ‘Sailor’. Yet, what transpired with the Vanished doesn’t align with any known incident. Presently, the ‘sun’s extinguishing’ event appears to be the most plausible explanation for our ship’s unexpected repositioning. Nevertheless, the conundrum is that none of us aboard were privy to the specifics or the exact moment this transition took place…”

Duncan, leaning forward, voiced his hypothesis, “I’ve been of the mind that the root cause isn’t exclusive to the Vanished. Rather, it pertains to the larger, ‘external world’ surrounding it.” He continued gravely, “Hints from Captain Lawrence’s message reinforced this theory – in the aftermath of the sun’s disappearance, the oceans ‘beyond our view’ underwent unfathomable transformations. Tyrian’s briefing resonates with this too.”

From the mirror, Agatha’s voice broke through, an undercurrent of urgency in her tone, “Has there been any subsequent correspondence from Mr. Tyrian? Have we received word from Cold Harbor?”

Duncan’s gaze held an intensity that seemed uncharacteristic, even for him. “Tyrian has re-established contact with several city-states that had mysteriously gone silent,” he began, his voice deep and measured. “And the feedback is… perplexing. Not only are these city-states, including Cold Harbor, entirely oblivious to the sun’s sudden disappearance, but they also deny any interruptions in their communication with Frost.”

Agatha’s eyes, always sharp and discerning, now widened slightly, betraying her surprise.

She finally said, “So, you’re suggesting…”

Duncan took a deep breath before answering, “Precisely. They appear to be completely unaware of those twelve hours when the sun vanished from the sky. For them, life continued as usual, uninterrupted. Places like Frost, Pland, and Wind Harbor seemed perfectly normal. Suddenly, they were bombarded with these urgent, confusing messages from Frost regarding the sun’s mysterious ‘blackout’ and subsequent ‘communication blackouts’. Now, these city-states are grappling with unrest and disbelief. As Tyrian aptly put it, ‘they’re frantically trying to discern which reality is the aberration’.”

Morris, usually so composed, seemed slightly shaken by this revelation. He put aside his pipe, collecting his thoughts before speaking, “If we extrapolate from this, it suggests that when the sun disappeared, the progression of time throughout the world froze for those twelve hours. Within that window, places like the Vanished and the aforementioned city-states unwittingly continued their existence, unaware of the temporal standstill. It’s reminiscent of a colossal, shared dream from which only we seem to have awakened prematurely, bearing witness to the time lapse.”

Duncan nodded appreciatively. The depth of Morris’s insight was impressive. While he might not have the answers to every nuance of this enigma, he had certainly illuminated a novel perspective.

But the ramifications of such a theory were staggering. Had there been other anomalies in the world after the sun’s disappearance that had gone unnoticed? Extrapolating further, was this the inaugural instance of the sun’s absence?

These heavy thoughts lingered palpably in the air, casting a solemn quiet over the captain’s quarters. Suddenly, Duncan’s face took on a look of consternation, “Did anyone else feel that?”

Agatha leaned forward, concern evident, “What is it, Captain? Have you discerned something new?”

Duncan seemed momentarily distant, his gaze penetrating something beyond the confines of the room. “No, it’s something… different,” he murmured, and then, more urgently, “Where is Heidi right now?”

Morris looked momentarily stunned by the abrupt shift in topic, “Heidi remained in Pland. With the upheaval surrounding the sun’s disappearance, she’s likely been summoned to the city’s council chambers. They’d want her insights. But why do you ask? Is something amiss with Heidi?”

Understanding slowly dawned on Morris, and his countenance darkened with foreboding.

Duncan’s eyes narrowed, his brow creased in concentration. “She ought to be safe, but the protective amulet I entrusted to her is sending some odd vibrations,” he explained, his voice laden with concern. With a fluid, sweeping motion, he summoned a vibrant green flame into the room. The ethereal blaze crackled and shifted, eventually revealing the spectral figure of Ai, hovering mid-air. “I require a portal to the dream realm,” he commanded.

…

Taran El, the elven scholar with a demeanor as composed as his sharp intellect, stared quizzically at Heidi. “So, to recap,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “You were in the midst of aiding another individual when you inadvertently found yourself within my dream. Upon seeing me, you mistakenly deemed me an interloper and thus chose to, quite abruptly, poke me in the neck with that ornate spike of yours?” His gaze shifted pointedly to the shimmering golden spike nestled in Heidi’s grasp.

With a sheepish grin, Heidi replied, “When you put it that way, it does sound rather bizarre, doesn’t it?”

Taran El arched an eyebrow. “Bizarre is an understatement.”

Heidi let out an awkward chuckle. She had encountered a plethora of odd situations in her line of work over the years, but nothing quite like this. “Honestly, as peculiar as it might sound, every word is true,” she admitted.

Taran El tilted his head thoughtfully. “If we’re accepting that account,” he mused, “then where is this ‘other patient’ you spoke of?”

Without hesitation, Heidi spun around, extending her arm towards the vast forest, “Her dreamscape was housed in that grand medical structure right over there, amidst the verdant canopy and intertwined vines…”

But her voice faded, her enthusiasm replaced by sheer disbelief. Where the imposing building once stood, there was now only a sprawling expanse of untouched wilderness.

“I… I don’t understand,” Heidi stammered, her gaze darting about in confusion. “It was right there, grand and imposing. How could it simply disappear?”

Watching Heidi’s growing dismay, Taran El couldn’t help but interject with a hint of sarcasm, “Miss Mental Therapist, your credibility is dwindling with every passing moment.”

The surrounding environment seemed to amplify the gravity of his words, casting a shadow of doubt over Heidi’s narrative.