The air was filled with a noise so overwhelmingly loud that it seemed as if it could tear one’s soul into shreds. This unrelenting sound reverberated through the guardian’s consciousness, leaving him in a state of turmoil and confusion. As time passed, the intense sensations began to dissipate, and it was only after what felt like an eternity that he regained awareness of his own existence.
He became aware of the thumping rhythm of his own heartbeat. Gathering his wits with considerable effort, his rational mind clawed its way back from the edge of insanity to regain a foothold in the realm of human thought and understanding. Then, as if waking up from a vivid nightmare, he suddenly comprehended the strange series of events he had just experienced. Almost reflexively, he lifted his head towards a sound he couldn’t quite identify.
Standing before him was Duncan, whose presence was underscored by the lingering outline of a ghostly flame. Duncan appeared as if he were a dark cloud that had descended from the heavens, exuding an atmosphere so oppressive it was nearly indescribable.
It was at this moment that the guardian remembered the advice Nina, a young girl he’d spoken with earlier, had offered him: “Don’t be afraid, whatever happens.”
He recognized Duncan, standing so ominously before him. To an elf like him, a century was but a short interval in memory’s long span.
Before he could even gasp in surprise, a calming force suddenly washed over his mind. Simultaneously, a familiar voice echoed not far from him, saying, “I’ll take it from here.”
Turning his head toward the voice, he saw a middle-aged man garbed in a deep blue academic robe walk into the room. Strands of grey streaked the man’s hair, and he carried a thick, ancient tome under his arm. The man’s eyes were serene but touched with a glint of fatigue.
“Truth Keeper!” the guardian exclaimed, his spirits lifting as if he had just been saved from some perilous fate. He quickly rose from his desk and hastily moved away from both Nina and Duncan.
He opened his mouth as if to report on recent events, but the man, known as the “Truth Keeper,” silenced him with a simple gesture. “I am already aware of the situation here. This matter has now been transferred to the jurisdiction of the university. Do not ask any more questions. Your duties for today are over. After you exit, proceed directly to the psychological counseling room for a mental evaluation. Now, off you go.”
With a head full of unanswered questions and a sense of lingering bewilderment, the guardian left the room. Duncan then turned his attention to the middle-aged elf, studying his tired features. After a moment, Duncan asked inquisitively, “Who are you?”
“Do you not recognize me?” The middle-aged elf looked puzzled for a moment but then nodded with sudden understanding. “Ah, of course. I heard your memory was affected by subspace.”
As he spoke, his voice was tinged with a deep seated fatigue that seemed to seep from his very bones. Even his expression of momentary surprise seemed flat and unchanging in its tone. Finally, letting out a weary sigh, he introduced himself: “I am Ted Lir, the ‘Truth Keeper’ of Wind Harbor. I’m in charge of dealing with the supernatural safety of this city. You and I knew each other about a century ago. Back then, you often invited me for drinks, and we engaged in many a debate concerning the borderlands.”
“Ted Lir? The Truth Keeper?”
Duncan’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. This name meant nothing to him, a result he found unsurprising given that he possessed the body of someone whose memory hadn’t survived the transition. Yet, despite this, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that meeting familiar faces in Wind Harbor was somewhat expected. He had prepared for the possibility of encountering those who might recognize him. After all, a century for elves isn’t a supernatural span of time, and the Vanished had often engaged in transactions and communications with frontier states like Wind Harbor.
After taking a brief moment to collect his thoughts, Duncan offered a carefully rehearsed explanation. “I must apologize, I have no recollection of you. The toll subspace has taken on my memory is significant. I hope you can understand.”
Ted Lir gestured dismissively with his hand. “It’s fine. Forgetfulness is Lahem’s greatest gift. I’ve grown rather accustomed to dealing with ‘forgetfulness,’ as you might say.”
Duncan paused, sensing a layer of hidden bitterness in Ted Lir’s words about ‘forgetfulness.’ However, before he could delve into it, the Truth Keeper continued, “I’ve been briefed by Miss Lucretia and the field team leader about the current situation. I assume the young lady standing behind you is Nina?”
By now, Nina had risen from her chair and positioned herself protectively behind Duncan. Her eyes were filled with curiosity as she studied the unfamiliar man. At the mention of her name, she stepped forward politely and introduced herself. “Hello, I am Nina.”
Nina then turned her gaze upward towards Duncan, her eyes tinged with guilt. “I’m sorry, Uncle Duncan. Did I get you into trouble?”
Duncan smiled warmly and tousled Nina’s hair affectionately. “It’s a minor issue, Nina. Don’t worry about it.”
Inside, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Stumbling into a supernatural event while trying to report anomalies was a far less grievous circumstance than being apprehended by the town sheriff for causing a public disturbance with a crew of ghostly sailors—an escapade his friend Lawrence had once managed to get entangled in.
As he pondered this, a question surfaced in his mind. “Where is Shirley?”
No sooner had he voiced the inquiry than the sound of footsteps resonated from the entrance. Lucretia walked into the room, followed by Shirley. “Papa, Shirley’s here.”
Shirley’s expression was marked by visible concern. She scanned Duncan’s face cautiously before darting towards him. As she moved, she began to explain hurriedly, “I didn’t do anything wrong! Nina and I were actually heading to the guardians to report something when this weird event occurred, and those overly cautious guardians just—”
Ted Lir cut her off politely, turning his gaze toward her. “Allow me to apologize on their behalf. It’s part of our standard safety procedures.”
Caught off guard, Shirley halted, her eyes widening as she turned to assess the seemingly unremarkable, middle-aged man standing before her. “Who else is here… Who are you, sir?”
“He’s Ted Lir, the Truth Keeper of Wind Harbor,” Lucretia interjected, standing not too far from the group. The woman, known as the ‘Sea Witch,’ nodded respectfully toward Ted before elaborating, “You could consider him the ‘Gatekeeper’ or even the ‘Inquisitor’ responsible for the city-state’s supernatural affairs.”
Hearing these titles, Shirley swiftly moved to stand beside Duncan, her eyes widening with a mixture of intrigue and apprehension.
Ted observed Shirley’s sudden movement and turned his gaze towards Lucretia, raising an eyebrow. “Do I truly give off such a frightening aura?”
Lucretia spread her hands in a noncommittal gesture, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I think their reaction has less to do with you and more to do with the titles you carry.”
Duncan glanced down at Shirley, who had positioned herself closely beside him. “You seem perfectly comfortable around Vanna most of the time. Why the sudden fear of someone who could be described as an ‘Inquisitor’?”
Shirley muttered, almost inaudibly, as she stole a sideways glance at Ted Lir. “Vanna is part of our gang, so it’s different. This guy’s an outsider.”
Duncan gave her a disapproving look. “Team, Shirley. How many times have I told you it’s a team, not a circle or a gang!”
Shirley merely mumbled an unconvincing “Uh…” in response.
Sighing, Duncan lifted his eyes to meet those of Ted Lir and Lucretia, who were approaching. “Nina has already filled me in on the basics of what transpired here. Can we skip the extended formalities and focus on this ‘strange thing’ that Shirley mentioned? Is it stored somewhere in this building?”
Ted nodded, his eyes revealing a glimmer of fatigue. “Yes, it’s in Sample Containment Room 24. The room is located within the underground archives of the central area. I can take you there.”
As he spoke, Ted pulled out the thick, ancient tome that he had been carrying under his arm. He casually opened it to a particular page and tapped his finger on an illustration. Duncan watched in awe as the page lifted into the air, revealing a sketched image of a grand door adorned with an array of intricate, arcane symbols. Within moments, the flat illustration began to morph, transforming into a fully-dimensional, ethereal door that hovered in the air before them.
The phantom-like door then swung open, unveiling a misty corridor that appeared to lead deep into some subterranean chamber.
Duncan was momentarily spellbound. ‘This is why they’re considered the most culturally advanced faction on the planet,’ he mused. The visual spectacle before him, conjured by a representative of the esteemed Academy of Truths, was far more extravagant than any of Vanna’s teleportation abilities.
His next thought was one of audacious curiosity: what would happen if he reached out and grabbed the levitating page during its magical transformation? The notion twirled in his mind for a mere second before he caught Lucretia’s eye. Her glance was subtle but unmistakably cautionary.
With a wry smile, she whispered, “Papa, don’t mess with it.”
“Be cautious,” Lucretia—known to some as Miss Witch—murmured so softly that her warning was barely more than a whisper.
Taking the subtle hint, Duncan dismissed the daring impulse that had momentarily captured his imagination. He turned his attention back to the scene unfolding before him.
Following Ted Lir’s lead, the group, comprised of Duncan, Lucretia, and the visibly excited young women Shirley and Nina, stepped through the ethereal, floating doorway. A fleeting wave of disorientation washed over them; their senses seemed to momentarily detach from their surroundings. When their perception cleared and stabilized, they found themselves standing in the subterranean vault that Ted Lir had described—the underground archives of the central area.
Duncan surveyed the corridor they had landed in. It was a long, solemn hallway, dimly lit by gas lamps that cast eerie shadows on the walls. The walls themselves were impressive, adorned with ornate stone panels that bore a variety of holy symbols, iconic representations, and sacred scriptures dedicated to the God of Wisdom, Lahem. Periodically, the hallway was interrupted by heavy, emergency isolation gates, behind which lay securely sealed rooms.
“This is our containment sector,” Ted Lir began, noting the curious expressions on Shirley and Nina’s faces. “It’s designed to house temporary items—objects or anomalies that have been deemed suspicious but of medium-to-low threat level. It’s also where we keep contaminated artifacts that cannot be immediately neutralized or destroyed. These rooms are organized by the level of danger posed by their contents, as well as the specific containment requirements needed to hold them. I would strongly advise against getting too close to these doors; what’s inside them is not generally amicable.”
To accentuate his warning, a series of uncanny noises started to filter into the hallway from behind the sealed doors. The sounds were disconcerting—a metallic scrape of chains, the unsettling murmur of what sounded like a sleep-talker, the repellent squelching of some liquid substance, and the ominous patter of footsteps as if something within was readying to burst out at any moment.
The young women, Shirley and Nina, instinctively pulled back, their faces losing their earlier curiosity to adopt a more serious, even tense, demeanor.
Duncan’s eyes scanned the room numbers and safety measures attached to each door. He seemed to be mentally noting each detail, maybe even assessing the level of potential threat or interest behind them.
Then, almost as if responding to an unspoken command, the unsettling sounds from the various rooms abruptly ceased. The entire hallway was swallowed in silence.
“Now that’s better. They’ve decided to be well-behaved,” Duncan remarked, nodding in quiet approval.
