Located on the precipice of the known world, Wind Harbor, one of the foremost cities among the constellation of city-states, has served as a pivotal frontier post for the Truth Academy and the Explorer’s Association since its inception.
About a thousand years ago, an expeditionary fleet spearheaded by elven academics strayed from their intended path during a storm near the civilization’s edge. During their disoriented voyage, they stumbled upon a sizeable island conspicuously absent from any known maps or records. As per the preserved logs, the storm chased them relentlessly for a whole week. On the dawn of the eighth day, when fatigue was pervasive among the crew, a landmass materialized from the storm’s intermittent clearing, bathed in the morning sunlight. Overwhelmed with relief and joy, the explorers mustered their last reserves of energy to navigate towards the newly discovered coastline. As they neared this enigmatic island, the storm’s ferocity inexplicably abated. By the time the crew could discern the island’s lush greenery, the storm had entirely receded, leaving only a soothing breeze wafting over the adjacent waters. Thus, the island was christened “Wind.”
Many city-states were discovered under similar circumstances, with adventurers losing their way at sea, and these tales of discovery invariably carried a touch of intrigue or mythological hue. Whether these tales were steeped in truth or fiction often proved challenging to discern. However, the discovery and subsequent establishment of Wind Harbor has always been deemed as a “meticulous and credible” account, and the reason for this was quite straightforward – the industrious elves founded the city-state.
As for the leading fearless explorer who first chanced upon the island, he was chosen as the city-state’s inaugural governor, doubling up as the president of the Explorer’s Association branch stationed here.
Sara Mel, now ensconced in the governor’s residence, stood on the balcony, his gaze sweeping over the cityscape basking in the distant “sunlight.” He watched the bustling city he and his comrades had painstakingly built over the years, which was now a beacon of prosperity. The mechanized patrolling units, colloquially known as “steam walkers” with their spider-like legs, strutted down the boulevards, bicycle bells resonated with a crisp note, and the city’s denizens were primed to commence their day. Not too far off, atop the “high tower,” the elven-styled dome methodically unveiled itself under the control of intricate mechanical devices.
The robust filtering lens group ascended from the tower’s zenith, nimbly adjusting its bearings, faithfully tracking the sun’s ascension.
Sara Mel, the elf governor, squinted slightly, revealing creases at the corners of his eyes. Despite the long lifespan granted to his kind, Sara was certainly no longer in his prime. The telltale wrinkles had been gradually etching their mark on his visage for the past three centuries. His once vibrant golden hair, a distinctive elven trait, was now laced with streaks of silver, signaling his transformation from a zealous explorer to a composed, albeit frail, elderly statesman.
Yet, despite the ravages of time, one constant remained — his insatiable curiosity about the world around him.
“Your father held a prestigious reputation as an explorer in his era. Even according to the stringent standards set by the elves, his feats could only be classified as extraordinary. Naturally, when an explorer of such caliber sounds a warning to the civilized world, it warrants serious contemplation. However, I trust you understand that our skepticism is merely routine,” said Sara Mel, turning towards the raven-haired woman who was poised elegantly beside the terrace tea table.
“Of course, I comprehend your position. My task is solely to relay my father’s message. The way you choose to interpret and act upon it is entirely your discretion,” replied Lucretia with a calm demeanor. “My father, too, foresaw the potential skepticism. His viewpoint remains steadfast – he is here to sound the alarm, and what transpires beyond that is irrelevant.”
“I will communicate with the Explorer’s Association. Regardless of everything, Captain Duncan’s message in itself holds significant weight and should prompt vigilance among other captains along the route,” remarked Governor Sara, his brow furrowing. “But what truly intrigues me is the notion of a spherical submersible plunging into the ocean depths to glimpse the ‘pristine blueprint’ of our world. Is such a feat possible?”
“The danger involved is immense, but the Frostians have indeed accomplished it,” Lucretia nodded in confirmation, “Nevertheless, the pioneers from half a century ago paid a hefty price for their audacity – mortal minds are far too fragile to fully withstand the profound revelations lurking in the deep sea. My father is an exception in this respect. I would advise against attempting to emulate him.”
“Were I seven or eight hundred years younger, I might already be devising my own diving expedition. To witness such phenomena… I believe I would…” Sara paused momentarily, shaking his head with a touch of regret. “I would stand a better chance of convincing the others within the guild.”
A faint smile graced Lucretia’s face: “Don’t fret, soon enough, more individuals will heed the warning – my father has arranged for alerts to be issued to the Four Divine Churches and all city-states, highlighting the gravity of the situation.”
Sara Mel nodded in acknowledgment, then after a brief pause, he couldn’t suppress his curiosity: “I’m still intrigued, Miss Lucretia. Has your father genuinely regained his humanity? In my two millennia of existence, I have yet to hear of anyone returning from the subspace, let alone reclaiming their humanity afterward. How did he accomplish this feat?”
“Who can say?” Lucretia shrugged nonchalantly, “If your curiosity persists, you may direct your questions to him in person upon his arrival. He should be here soon.”
Upon hearing this, Sara Mel’s composed countenance visibly twitched.
“My lady, there is no need to underscore this news again,” the elf governor said, his tone carrying a peculiar undertone, “such revelations are hardly heart-friendly. Please show some consideration for the elderly.”
Lucretia let out a hearty laugh, her face radiating an unmistakable sense of contentment – it was as if she had managed to derive joy from Tyrian’s delight. Rising from her seat, she cast a parting wave towards Governor Sara. In the very next instant, her figure, known famously as the “Sea Witch,” transmuted into a myriad of vibrant, confetti-like pieces. The transformed fragments pirouetted in the air before being whisked away by the breeze, disappearing into the expanse of the terrace.
“This witch truly does have a knack for making an enigmatic entrance and exit,” Sara Mel couldn’t help but murmur. He pivoted around to retreat into his quarters, intending to contemplate his communication strategy with the Explorer’s Association across other city-states and the daunting task of conveying that foreboding “warning”.
However, just as he commenced his turn, the city-state governor abruptly froze in his tracks. It felt as though a wave of fear had suddenly swept in from the periphery of his consciousness, instilling a surge of unspoken terror and despair within his heart. This surge of “emotion” seemed to be directly injected into his brain, instantaneously gripping his thoughts, chilling his blood, and causing his muscles to tense. He managed to divert his gaze towards the direction that exerted an intense, irresistible pull, deeply engraved within his psyche – towards the city center, towards the skyline dominated by towering structures.
Yet, instead of his familiar cityscape or any recognizable sights, his eyes were met with a blinding inferno and an enormous tree. The tree’s size was truly beyond comprehension – its boundaries indistinguishable, akin to a vast mountain range, blazing fiercely at the edge of his sight.
The colossal tree, reminiscent of the “Atlantis” World Tree from ancient elven folklore, was far more majestic and awe-inspiring than any depiction by a poet or scholar. It seemed to engulf the entire landscape, providing shelter to an entire kingdom beneath its expansive canopy. The tree’s scale dwarfed any city-state or island that Sara Mel had ever encountered, and the stretch of land beneath it was so vast that it defied his imagination.
Yet, all this grandeur was being swallowed by the cataclysmic flames.
Crimson flames voraciously consumed all in their path, reducing the mighty tree and the surrounding vegetation to mere ashes. There was also a distinct, massive flare of light, as if energy was being unleashed from the fire’s edge, causing the air to ignite and ripping through the sky.
Managing to redirect his gaze towards those strange flares, Sara Mel eventually discerned the source of the inferno that was consuming everything.
It was the sky – the entire celestial dome was awash with a terrifyingly intense luminescence, pulsating and gleaming like a steam core reactor teetering on the edge of uncontrollable meltdown. Within that swelling radiance, one could discern an ominous dark red hue gradually spreading across.
The dark red hue began to proliferate rapidly, usurping the intense light that had previously dominated the sky. The entire world was now veiled in a terrifying, dark red twilight. The searing heat radiating from the sky subsided, but all terrestrial entities had been reduced to ashes by the unrelenting flames. The once thriving forest had been transformed into a desolate, scorched landscape, and the miraculous giant tree too had succumbed to the embers, its collapse echoing a thunderous rumble that shook the very earth.
The crimson-tinged sky darkened further, the ominous hue giving way to streaks of black. Time seemed to either elongate indefinitely or shrink to a mere moment – Sara Mel could not tell – but he watched as night fell, the ebony darkness intermingled with the eerie red dusk sky blanketing the world, now reduced to a scorched wasteland.
In this transient period of “silence,” he felt as if he could discern voices whispering close to his ear.
There were multiple voices, all unfamiliar.
“I still remember them, remember their faces.”
“Memories can be useful, we have a plan.”
“A shelter, or a cage for the desperate – the future doesn’t look bright.”
“But at least there’s a future.”
Sara Mel swiveled around in terror, attempting to pinpoint the sources of these voices, but all he was greeted with was the sight of a world ablaze, everything reduced to ruins. Subsequently, the dark red, uncertain night sky started fracturing, chaotic streams of light and shadows spilling in from the ruptures. The residual ashes and debris on the ground were instantly absorbed and broken down by the encroaching light and shadows as everything started to vanish at an alarming pace. An overwhelming, alien thought echoed in his mind like a resonating thunderclap, as if countless thoughts were synchronizing simultaneously, mirroring the apocalyptic rupture.
Sara Mel’s body twitched slightly.
It felt as if something was ebbing away like a receding tide. The intense emotions and impressions of terror etched in his mind were evaporating rapidly, much like snowflakes under the summer sun. A mere moment ago, he had the impression of having witnessed something, strongly remembered something. However, the very next instant, he felt as if he had been momentarily dazed, caught in a brief trance.
Everything began to dissipate, reminiscent of dreams evaporating in the morning light.
Sara Mel stood there, subconsciously furrowing his brows, casting his gaze back towards the direction where the “Sea Witch” had vanished moments ago.
“This ‘witch’ truly does have a knack for an enigmatic entrance and exit.” Sara Mel couldn’t resist murmuring again before returning to his quarters.
