As Duncan listened with rapt attention to Morris, who was reciting a translation of words from an ancient elven epic, his expression gradually morphed into one of profound thought and reflection.
Morris added some context, “We must remember that these lines originate from an era well before the establishment of modern city-states. Over centuries, the text may have undergone alterations through scholarly revisions and additions, possibly leading to deviations from its original intent. Despite this, I am convinced of the enduring significance of these verses. They offer insights not only into the ancient elves ‘Dream of Creation’ but also relate to a more modern concept known as the ‘Dream of the Nameless.'”
Feeling intrigued, Duncan stroked his chin and mused aloud, “One line in particular strikes me: ‘Saslokha creates everything in a dream, yet he himself is unaware of what a dream is.’ How do we interpret this apparent contradiction?”
Morris paused, carefully considering his response, “To me, this line suggests a contrast between the divine and mortal perceptions of existence. It also uniquely positions Saslokha, the ‘First Dreamer’ in elven lore, as being distinct. For a being who dwells in the realm of dreams, the line between dreaming and waking life might not exist. From his perspective, our reality could be just another mutable dream, and what we perceive as dreams might be as real as our waking world. Thus, for Saslokha, existing in this state, the concept of a ‘dream’ might indeed be elusive.”
Duncan nodded slowly, absorbing this, “That’s an intriguing interpretation. What do the subsequent verses reveal?”
Morris elaborated, “The interpretations of the lines that follow have been the subject of debate among elven scholars. A widely accepted view is that the Great Demon God Saslokha eventually realized that the elves he created experienced dreams differently from him. This led to a pivotal moment of introspection, where he began to ponder, perhaps for the first time, the distinction between dream and reality. It was amidst this uncertainty that he brought forth the ‘Dreamless’ elves.”
Duncan considered this, “Ah, the Dreamless. I recall that within elven lore, being unable to dream is viewed as a genetic anomaly.”
“Correct,” Morris confirmed. “The legend suggests that the Dreamless were born out of Saslokha’s moment of emotional and existential crisis. They are depicted as imperfect beings because they lack access to the ‘Heaven of Dreams,’ which is a core aspect of elven spiritual belief. However…”
Morris paused, seemingly immersed in thought for a brief moment, before continuing, “Interestingly, there are a handful of obscure legends that depict Saslokha not as a figure of indifference but as the ‘Protector God of the Dreamless.’ This interpretation is largely disregarded by mainstream elven society. In ancient times, voicing such a belief might have been outright blasphemous, though it’s somewhat more tolerated in modern discussions.”
Vanna, intrigued by the conversation, added her thoughts, “The notion of Saslokha serving as a guardian deity for the Dreamless is fascinating. It seems to me that this idea likely emerged among the Dreamless themselves, a group historically marginalized and ostracized. This belief could have provided them with a sense of solace and communal identity in the face of their isolation.”
“You’ve hit the nail on the head,” Morris responded, visibly impressed. “This belief indeed surfaced during what historians refer to as the Elven Dark Ages. During this period, the elven city-states exiled the Dreamless to remote islands, branding them as cursed. Their inability to connect with the dream world was believed to attract malevolent forces and entities, leading to their societal banishment.”
Morris went on to detail, “In these isolated enclaves, far from the elven societal core, the concept of ‘Saslokha as the protector of the Dreamless’ began to gain traction. For those exiled, embracing this belief provided a measure of comfort and resilience against the harrowing isolation and dangers they faced nightly. Over time, as societal norms shifted and the rigid practices of exile relaxed with the spread of the Four Deity Faith, the Dreamless started to reintegrate into broader society. Although they were no longer outcasts, the once deemed ‘heretical’ beliefs about Saslokha remained largely unrecognized and unaccepted by the mainstream.”
As Duncan listened to Morris’s explanation, his mind raced, linking this historical narrative to the peculiar occurrences in Wind Harbor. The information seemed to piece together, hinting at a larger, more complex theory. However, Duncan felt he was still missing critical pieces of the puzzle, needing just a bit more information to fully connect the dots.
Suddenly, Duncan was pulled back to the present by the familiar sensation of someone entering the room. The sound of the front door opening, followed by a servant’s muffled greetings and footsteps approaching, signaled a new arrival. Lucretia made her way into the living room, followed closely by Luni, a clockwork doll dressed as a maid. Luni held an unsettlingly designed oversized stuffed rabbit, adding an eerie yet intriguing element to the gathering.
As soon as Lucretia and the clockwork doll entered, the eerie rabbit toy in the doll’s arms made a sudden, twitching motion. In one fluid leap, it escaped from the doll’s embrace and landed on the floor. Filled with a wild zest, it started bouncing around the room, emitting a high-pitched squeal, “At last, at last! Rabbi has entered the city! Rabbi is going to cause a grand commotion~”
Duncan, along with everyone else in the room, was captivated by the bizarre performance of the rabbit doll. They watched in a mixture of astonishment and unease as the toy made its unpredictable antics.
After a short display of its frenzied behavior, the rabbit toy came to an abrupt stop. It slowly raised its head, its button eyes scanning the room methodically. Seemingly coming to a decision, it quietly moved to a secluded corner far from Duncan. There, it settled down with a soft “plop,” assuming the guise of an ordinary, lifeless plush toy once more.
The swift and strange turn of events left Nina and Shirley, who were seated across from Duncan, trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed, their minds racing to catch up.
Breaking the silence that had settled over the group, Lucretia apologized, “Please excuse the interruption; Rabbi tends to be quite the troublemaker, which is why I rarely bring her into the city.”
Turning towards Duncan, she shared a subtle, meaningful smile. “Yet, I suspect Rabbi will maintain her best behavior in your presence.”
Then, Luni, the mechanical maid doll, approached Duncan with a dignified bow. “Good day, esteemed master,” she greeted warmly.
After her greeting, Luni looked around as though she was searching for someone or awaiting further instructions.
“Alice is in the kitchen,” Duncan informed her, his expression brightening with a smile. “You’re welcome to join her.”
Luni glanced back at Lucretia, seeking her consent. With an affirmative nod from her mistress, Luni cheerfully made her way out of the living room.
Duncan’s attention returned to Lucretia. “Have things been progressing smoothly?” he asked, his tone conveying genuine interest.
Lucretia succinctly replied, “All is well-managed. I’ve conferred with Sara Mel, revisited the ‘Bright Star,’ and updated Tyrian on the situation here.”
Listening to Lucretia recap her recent activities, Duncan nodded thoughtfully, a sense of relief washing over him. “Alright, I’ve got a clear picture now. With everyone gathered, it’s time we discuss my findings,” he declared, signaling the beginning of an important conversation.
Upon hearing Duncan’s preamble, everyone in the gathering instinctively sat up straighter, their postures adjusting in anticipation. Shirley, who until that point had appeared somewhat detached and on the verge of dozing, snapped to full alertness. Duncan’s shift in tone had subtly communicated the importance of the information he was about to unveil.
Without delay, Duncan began sharing his findings, focusing particularly on his theories surrounding Goathead. He deliberately steered clear of the more troubling details related to the plight of the Vanished, reasoning that dwelling on such aspects would only heighten the existing tension in the room and do little to shed light on the peculiar occurrences in Wind Harbor.
The suggestion that Goathead might have connections to the elven mythos, specifically “the Great Demon God Saslokha,” cast a palpable chill over the room, enveloping everyone in a deep, contemplative silence.
For an extended period, no one uttered a word. The room was filled with exchanged glances of bewilderment as each person seemed to grapple with the implications of Duncan’s theory. It was Nina who eventually pierced the silence, her voice carrying a mix of skepticism and concern: “Are you really suggesting that Goathead, this incessantly chattering sculpture, could have ties to Saslokha, the legendary Great Demon God from elven mythology? Doesn’t that stretch credibility a bit…?”
Her voice trailed off, leaving her question hanging in the air, but her skepticism was evident. The atmosphere in the room became charged with a blend of disbelief and worry, reflecting the group’s shared sense of uncertainty and apprehension.
“Although it may seem like a stretch, the evidence we’ve pieced together points toward a potential connection,” Duncan responded, his tone imbued with a sense of serious consideration. “Let’s look at the facts: Goathead, a mysterious entity with no known origin, emerges on the Vanished, a ship enshrouded in a peculiar mist and marked by an eerie presence. The timing of the ship’s appearance aligns with the heightened activity of the ‘Dream of the Nameless One’ at midnight. Additionally, the phrase ‘may he linger in dreams,’ inscribed on the captain’s quarters, clearly alludes to ancient elven traditions. When we also consider Goathead’s distinctive behaviors and reactions, particularly regarding discussions of Atlantis, dismissing these connections as mere coincidences becomes challenging.”
Visibly unsettled yet intrigued, Lucretia turned towards Duncan with a look that conveyed concern and deep thought. After several contemplative glances, she cautiously shared her perspective. “You’ve mentioned before that Goathead is believed to have originated from subspace. Setting aside for a moment the perplexing idea that an elven ‘God of Creation’ could take on such a form, we’re still left with the puzzling question of how the Vanished fits into this complex puzzle we’re trying to solve.”
Lucretia paused, clearly struggling to find the right words to convey her concerns more clearly. After a short moment of reflection, she pressed on, “And what significance does the Vanished have in this scenario?”
Duncan could sense the deep-seated worry behind Lucretia’s questions. Although focused on the Vanished, her inquiries seemed to be driven by a deeper, more personal anxiety.
“Rest easy, Lucy,” Duncan offered her reassurance, his tone imbued with a comforting strength. “The realm of subspace is filled with mysteries that even I don’t completely understand. It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly how it’s influencing the Vanished. What I can promise you is that as long as I retain my human essence, I’ll ensure that the ship remains within our grasp. And right now, I am fully in possession of my faculties.”
This declaration seemed to alleviate Shirley’s evident concern over the conversation’s revelations. “Precisely, precisely,” she chimed in, a bit too quickly, echoing Duncan’s sentiment. “With the captain here, there’s no chance the ship will deviate from its course. After all, the captain’s grasp on humanity…”
Duncan gave her a puzzled look: “…?”
At that moment, all attention abruptly shifted to Shirley, who appeared completely oblivious to the sudden focus on her. Unfazed, she proceeded, “Despite its peculiarities and mysteries, the Vanished—”
It was then that Dog, having silently emerged from his hiding spot near the sofa, assertively placed a paw on Shirley’s head as if attempting to silence her. His gesture seemed to convey a stern, “Enough talking!” effectively halting her mid-sentence.
