Deep Sea Embers

As Duncan and Alice walked quickly toward the colossal vine hidden in the shadows of the adjacent buildings, Duncan was gripped by an indefinable sense of unease. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something felt off.

When they arrived at their destination, the sheer size of the vine took Duncan’s breath away. Far from being just an overgrown plant, its massive tendrils had a diameter that exceeded the height of an average adult. It seemed to emerge from the slope of the street itself, almost as if it were a creature of the night, blending into the surrounding darkness. What made it even more perplexing was how its sinuous body appeared to weave in and out of the building shadows. This gave Duncan the eerie feeling that what they were looking at was merely a fragment of an even larger, perhaps sentient, being lurking somewhere in the depths of the dark.

This mysterious “entity” was shrouded in a thick, inscrutable mist that made it difficult to see any details. Strangely enough, even the fragments of sunlight that managed to penetrate the dense canopy of trees above could not dispel the foggy veil surrounding it.

Alice stood there absolutely stunned by the sight while she tried to make sense of the origins of this incredible, creeping vine. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke, “Captain, is this thing actually a ‘plant’?”

Duncan didn’t answer right away. His eyes were still fixed on the vine, which was so massive it almost obstructed the entire street. After a moment of silent observation, he cautiously approached the tip of the vine and lightly touched its rough, hardened surface with the tips of his fingers.

From the wooden doll’s head that Alice was holding, Lucretia’s voice chimed in, “Papa, what have you discovered? Have you found the ‘Dreamer’?”

“No, we haven’t located the Dreamer,” Duncan responded without taking his eyes off the vine. “But we have stumbled upon an unusually large and unique vine. It’s far different from the other vegetation around here—immense in size, yet it feels like it’s merely a part of a larger, perhaps living, entity. Something about this vine gives me the impression that it’s not just a plant but something… animated.”

Duncan then looked around at the tall trees lining the block. Despite their lush appearance, they seemed hollow, as if devoid of life—almost like mere illusions. Only this monumental vine in the middle of the street seemed alive to him.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Duncan decided to take a bold step. Taking a deep breath to center himself, he channeled a wisp of green flame through his fingers, allowing it to silently seep into the vine. The faint light flickered momentarily in the darkness before vanishing.

With expertise, Duncan guided this magical flame to spread through the vine, which he now considered a “foreign object” of some sort. He then told Alice to remain vigilant and keep an eye on their surroundings. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, tuning into the feedback he received from the magical flame to comprehend and, hopefully, establish communication with this mysterious vine that seemed to originate from some otherworldly realm.

As he focused, Duncan sensed subtle movements in the darkness, as if something was shifting, gathering, and dispersing in response to his magical connection. It was as if the vine—or whatever it was a part of—was beginning to communicate back.

As Duncan “opened” his eyes within the encompassing darkness, he strained to make out the elusive shapes that seemed to briefly materialize, only to dissolve back into the pitch-black void. His eyes focused intently, attempting to decipher the mysterious shadows as if they were words written in invisible ink.

A mist began to emerge from this unending blackness, and within its enigmatic depths, Duncan sensed something taking form. His pulse quickened.

Something is definitely here!

An exhilarating rush of adrenaline surged through him as he felt himself drawn toward the indistinct figure that was slowly coming into view. It was as if his very essence had turned into a gust of wind or a fleeting wraith, gliding effortlessly through the thickening fog. The closer he got, the clearer the object before him became. What was once a nebulous outline started revealing intricacies and details.

Feeling a pull that he couldn’t resist, Duncan increased his “speed,” venturing deeper into this strange dimension. As he moved forward, the blurred figure before him crystallized with striking clarity. He started making out features that left him spellbound—an imposing prow, a hull shrouded in dark colors, gun port covers aligned under the ship’s sides, intricate masts and rigging, and sails that seemed almost translucent, billowing high up in a spectral wind.

Duncan stopped suddenly, rooted in place by disbelief and awe. He tilted his head back, eyes widening as they adjusted to the darkness. He was staring at his own ship—the Vanished—materializing at the end of the misty corridor as if beckoning him.

……

Meanwhile, miles away and in a completely different setting, Nina was carefully maneuvering her way through a rugged, forested path. She paused abruptly, her eyebrows furrowing as she strained her ears to catch the sounds coming from the deeper recesses of the forest.

Turning toward Morris, she asked, “Mr. Morris, did you hear that?”

Morris listened intently before answering, his expression growing solemn. “The wind has changed. It’s getting stronger and the direction keeps shifting. This is not natural.” He looked at Nina, his eyes filled with concern. “Could you fly and take a look at what’s happening in the distance? But be quick and cautious. Don’t stay up there too long.”

Nina nodded, saying, “Okay!” With those words, she transformed into a streak of arcing flame that shot up into the sky. Her fiery trail spiraled rapidly above the forest, eliciting an immediate response from the dream-like landscape. Trees below her began to grow at an accelerated pace, their trunks creaking and groaning as they reached skyward. Clouds at higher altitudes started to converge toward her, forming a menacing ring.

But Nina’s flight was short-lived. Sensing the environment becoming increasingly unstable, she quickly descended back to Morris’s side, her heart pounding.

“That was scary. This place really doesn’t seem to like me,” she said, patting her chest as if trying to steady her heartbeat.

Morris nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Your energy might be too intense for this unfamiliar place. Such realms often have natural defenses against intruding forces that could pose a threat.” Then he looked at her curiously, “So, what did you see up there?”

“In the far recesses of the forest, there’s a particular zone shrouded in absolute darkness. It’s as though both the ground and the trees in that area have disintegrated or rotted into nothingness. A good distance away in another direction, I spotted these expansive, translucent shadows that almost seemed like some kind of luminous barrier or screen,” Nina reported hurriedly, her hands gesturing to emphasize the directions in which she had observed these anomalies. “But that was about all I could discern within the limited time frame.”

However, she was cut off midway through her explanation by a sudden, howling gust of wind that seemed to erupt from the bowels of the forest. The wind carried with it a discordant mixture of distant, indistinct roars as it violently shook the trees around them. A palpable tension enveloped Nina and Morris; a sense of foreboding and aversion that was hard to ignore.

It felt as though the forest, a surreal tapestry woven from dreams, was undergoing some sort of monumental external disturbance. The very fabric of this dream world appeared on the brink of unraveling.

Their eyes met instinctively, just in time to see towering trees in the distance begin to sway unnaturally, as if haunted, before toppling over one by one. The sky itself seemed to fracture, fine cracks appearing and widening as if reality was seeping through, creating a feeling akin to being yanked abruptly from a vivid dream.

At a different location within the same forest, Shirley also heard the dissonant howl growing louder and nearer. Richard, the cultist who had been leading the way, came to an abrupt halt.

Shirley’s heart momentarily clenched with anxiety, but she quickly mastered her emotions and her facial expression. “Ah? What’s going on?”

“The stability of this dream is compromised. The operation is terminated. We all need to evacuate from the Nameless One’s dream world immediately,” Richard announced, a tinge of suspicion finally coloring his previously impassive face as he turned towards her. “Didn’t you receive the warning?”

Shirley momentarily faltered but quickly recovered, feigning ignorance. “No, I must’ve missed that message somehow…”

“Missed it?” Richard, the self-styled cultist, looked at her more closely, his eyes narrowing. For the first time, he seemed to sense the discordant vibrations that Shirley had subtly been emitting all along. A trace of heightened alertness flickered across his features. “Sister, it occurs to me that I never inquired—what city-state do you hail from in the real world?”

Cognizant of the subtle yet definitive shift in Richard’s demeanor, Shirley knew she had to tread carefully; her innate skill for detecting malice in others had made her instantly aware of his mounting suspicion. Yet she maintained her facade of innocence. “I operate out of the city-state of Mok. It has a high elf population, you see…”

Both scenes were charged with an escalating sense of urgency, like tightly wound threads suddenly pulled taut, each signaling the imminence of some great, unknown event. Whether it was the foreboding areas deep within the forest, the abrupt destabilization of the dream realm, or the mounting suspicions among the characters, it felt as though some unseen force was agitating the elements, setting the stage for a cascade of unforeseen outcomes.

“‘Brethren,'” Richard abruptly cut off Shirley, and the quality of his voice altered significantly. It was as though he layered his words with additional, concealed syllables that vibrated at a different frequency. His eyes seemed to pierce through her very soul as his lips moved, emitting a nearly hypnotic force. “We are strictly prohibited from divulging our real-world affiliations during these operations, even among ‘our own kind.’ How regrettable that you’ve done so…”

As he spoke, malevolent magic subtly infused his words, a spell imbued with the essence of a death crow—a mystical creature he was psychically connected to through a complex metaphysical chain. He sensed his spell tightly grip Shirley’s mental faculties. Yet, she seemed to be utterly oblivious to the magic he had cast, standing there with a blank look on her face.

Seeing this, Richard felt his suspicions solidify. This girl, who appeared so naive about the deadly potency of the magic he had unleashed, couldn’t possibly be a genuine disciple of the Nether Lord.

While he couldn’t pinpoint her origins or how she had managed such a convincingly deceptive masquerade, he was convinced she was an imposter. Fortunately for him, he thought, he had uncovered her deceit in time, and she appeared to lack any real combat savvy.

It was time for her to meet her fate; nobody could escape the curse woven by his death crow.

Yet, all of this transpired within the mere blink of an eye: Richard’s rapid internal assessment, his mental self-assurance, and then the sudden, incandescent smile that blossomed across Shirley’s face.

Caught utterly off guard, Richard had only a fleeting moment of surprise as the woman, who had introduced herself as “Sara,” grinned warmly, her eyes lighting up. Before he could react or process what was unfolding, her arm snapped upward, and a monstrous black shadow rocketed into his face.

In one fluid motion, Shirley unleashed her chained hound, which hurtled through the air like a missile and collided squarely with Richard’s head.

“So long, you piece of garbage!”

Shirley’s unexpected and impeccably-timed counteraction shattered every assumption Richard had harbored. He didn’t even have a split second to contemplate the magnitude of his miscalculation, much less mount any kind of defense against the incoming assault. It was a harsh lesson that appearances can be not just misleading, but dangerously so.