In the heart of the immense, uncharted expanse of the ocean, far away from the bustling maritime lanes, a thick fog enveloped Wind Harbor, shrouding it in a veil of mystery. Amid this enigmatic fog, the “Vanished,” a ship of legend, could be seen gliding slowly, its formidable silhouette barely visible as it patrolled the waters at a leisurely pace.
Out of nowhere, the calm sea began to stir, creating a mesmerizing display of ripples that blurred the line between reality and illusion. Along with these ripples, a ghostly image of a phantom ship appeared on the water’s surface, its reflection almost seeming to break through into our world. For a fleeting moment, it appeared as though the apparition was about to fully materialize from the watery depths. Yet, as quickly as it appeared, the vision dissolved, and the sea returned to its previous state of calm.
Inside the cozy captain’s quarters, near the edge of a well-used navigation table, rested a finely crafted wooden goat head. At a casual glance, it might be mistaken for a mere piece of elaborate decor. But then, with a quiet groan from its base, Goathead began to move, its eyes scanning the room. Taking a moment to collect its thoughts, it spoke up, its voice tinged with a note of confusion, “Something felt… odd just now.”
From the corner of the room, where an antique, oval-shaped mirror hung, thick streams of dark mist began to emerge. Standing within this mist was Agatha, her eyes intently fixed on the wooden sculpture on the table.
Sensing the intensity of her gaze, Goathead quickly turned its attention towards the mirror. Upon recognizing Agatha, it exclaimed in surprise, “Whoa… you gave me quite the scare! Why are you watching me so intently this early in the day?”
Regaining its composure, Goathead inquired, “Miss Agatha, where were you last night? I noticed you weren’t on board. Don’t you usually keep watch from within the mirror during the evenings?”
Agatha, choosing her words carefully and not answering right away, continued to study the “First Mate,” her eyes meticulously observing its every detail. After a significant pause, she decided to address the question, “Did you not notice anything unusual last night? When I left, did you not sense any disturbances?”
“No, I can’t say that I did,” responded Goathead, now realizing the gravity of Agatha’s inquiry, “What are you suggesting? Did something happen last night?”
“Yes. You should expect a visit from the captain soon,” Agatha stated, her expression growing serious. Seeking further clarification, she added, “Earlier, you mentioned feeling something unusual. Could you describe that feeling more precisely?”
After a moment of reflection, Goathead explained, “It’s difficult to put into words… It was like a sudden disruption, as if I was deeply immersed in thought and then suddenly snapped back to reality after being tapped on the shoulder…”
With a touch of amusement, Agatha asked, “You have shoulders?”
“That’s just a way of expressing it! It felt as if someone tapped me on the shoulder,” Goathead responded, slightly irritated, “Maybe I got distracted while navigating. Could the cause have been a sudden change in the sea’s conditions?”
“No, the sea has been calm. The only disturbances came from the realm of dreams,” Agatha corrected, her look one of mild disbelief, “You were lost in a dream.”
Taken aback and after a short pause, Goathead could only utter a confused, “…Wha?”
……
Positioned by a window that offered a sweeping view of the awakening city, Duncan was absorbed in observation. The emerging light of dawn cast a soft glow on the streets below, painting the scene in tranquil colors. His focus seemed miles away, his expression one of deep reflection, with a furrow running between his brows, signaling intense concentration.
Just behind him, two figures, human in appearance, named Alice and Luni, stood in quiet anticipation, their presence marked by patience.
The silence that had enveloped the room was gently broken by Duncan, his voice carrying a note of contemplation, “It’s strange. Regardless of how long one spends ‘on the other side’ or the outcome of what we call the Dream of the Nameless One, every return feels like waking up to a new morning in this very reality.”
Alice, puzzled by Duncan’s words, glanced back and forth between Luni and Duncan, her curiosity piqued. She asked, trying to understand, “Did you spend a longer period on the ‘other side’ this time?”
With a thoughtful nod, Duncan confirmed, “Yes. This time, it felt like I was enveloped in that dim, fog-laden world for almost twice as long as my previous journey. The dream ended quite suddenly, yet when I came back, it seemed as though time here had paused, with the dawn just breaking. It’s a reminder of how unpredictable the nature of dreams can be.”
He paused, gathering his thoughts before adding, “The flow of time in dreams is erratic. What feels like an eternity or a fleeting moment in a dream might translate to just a blink of an eye in our world. Upon awakening, our perception of time resets.”
Alice, still trying to wrap her mind around this complex concept, eventually confessed, “I’m finding this hard to follow…”
Duncan offered a light-hearted chuckle, dispelling the heaviness of their discussion. He affectionately tousled Alice’s hair, reassuring her, “Don’t worry about it. We’ve gained invaluable insights from these experiences.”
As they returned to their home base at the “Witch’s Mansion” on 99 Crown Street, they discovered Duncan’s team already assembled in the mansion’s spacious living room, engaged in animated discussions about their recent adventures in the dream realm.
Upon Duncan’s entrance, the conversation momentarily paused as members like Vanna and Morris stood up, showing respect for their leader. Nina, with eyes sparkling with excitement, hurried over to Duncan, greeting him with an enthusiastic, “Uncle Duncan!”
After sharing a warm hug with Nina, Duncan’s gaze swept over the room, eventually landing on Lucretia. She sat gracefully on a luxurious couch, a coffee table positioned before her. With a playful twinkle in his eye, Duncan joked, “Care for a hug as well?”
Lucretia took a moment to consider before responding with a light-hearted smirk, “I’ll pass.”
Duncan’s laughter briefly filled the room, but as he took his seat, his demeanor shifted to one of focused seriousness, “Let’s get to the point. We’ll skip the usual recap. There are two significant developments we need to discuss.”
With the room attentively listening, Duncan leaned forward, his fingers thoughtfully pressed against the table.
“First off,” he stated, his tone clear and direct, “we encountered a new entity named ‘Shireen’, who revealed herself to Shirley, Morris, and Nina.”
He paused, letting the information sink in before continuing, “And then there’s the ‘Giant’—a massive being who introduced himself to Vanna as some sort of deity.”
Duncan allowed a brief pause for the significance of his words to be fully appreciated by those present before he turned his sharp gaze towards Morris. “Morris, with your extensive knowledge in these areas, could you give us your perspective on what’s been happening?”
Morris shifted slightly in his seat, taking a moment to carefully consider his response. He took off his elegantly made monocle, polishing it with a soft cloth as he collected his thoughts. “The frequent appearance of this ‘Shireen’ figure in our collective dream experiences suggests she holds a greater importance than we initially thought,” he started. “We once theorized that ‘Shireen’ was nothing more than a psychic manifestation within the Dream of the Nameless One, essentially an embodiment of the dream’s consciousness. However, our recent encounters suggest she may play a crucial role.”
He allowed his statement to resonate with the group before continuing. “In our explorations of the dreamscape, ‘Shireen’ consistently appears, guiding us towards a place she refers to as the ‘Silent Wall’. This pattern of guidance seems too deliberate to be mere coincidence, indicating that she may be an integral element of the Dream of the Nameless One’s structure.”
Morris took a moment to breathe deeply, then elaborated, “My theory is that ‘Shireen’ is not a being with her own will and desires but more of a programmed function within the dream itself. Her presence and actions may be triggered by certain conditions within the dream’s environment.”
His gaze then subtly moved towards Shirley, hinting at the moment when ‘Shireen’ transformed into a tree-like entity in her presence.
“To fully understand the triggers for her appearance or transformations, we might need to undertake numerous additional ventures into the dream. Or, considering the dream’s inherently unpredictable nature, we might never fully unravel this mystery,” he concluded, placing his monocle back over his eye. “Yet, it’s evident that ‘Shireen’ shows a kind disposition towards explorers like us, while exhibiting hostility towards what she perceives as the dream’s ‘contaminants’. This distinction seems to reflect the Dream of the Nameless One’s own judgment system. To us, it represents a glimmer of hope.”
After digesting Morris’s thorough analysis, Duncan nodded slowly in agreement, his curiosity piqued. He then directed his attention to Vanna. “Vanna, regarding your interaction with the ‘Giant’, do you have any insights to share?”
Vanna paused for a moment, her expression one of deep contemplation. She finally said, “To be honest, I’m at a loss. I’ve delved into our world’s myths, legends, and historical records, yet I’ve found no mention that matches the descriptions or the stories shared by this ‘Giant’. Not even the ancient elven libraries, which have preserved much of their knowledge, contain any records of such a being or the ‘City of Forest Hills and Plains’ he mentioned…”
Gathered around the grand wooden table, Lucretia settled into her chair, her fingers drumming thoughtfully as she lost herself in reflection. “The archives at our disposal, including those hailed as the elven ‘legacy’, represent mere snippets of a much larger historical narrative. Should this Giant trace his origins back to an era before the Great Annihilation, it stands to reason that our present-day records would fall short in shedding light on his existence,” she pondered, her features mirroring a mix of skepticism and fascination.
She slightly turned her head towards Vanna, her silver strands shimmering in the subdued light of the room. “Vanna, in your travels across the expansive desert, did you encounter any evidence of a forest, or perhaps glean any insights from your conversations with the Giant that could suggest a link to the elven history?”
Locking eyes with Lucretia, Vanna replied with a clear conviction, “No, there was nothing of the sort.”
Lucretia’s expression turned contemplative. “That’s intriguing. Our elven acquaintance, known to us as ‘Shireen’, seemed completely unaware of any desert. The only, albeit slender, connection she has to the Giant is through her mentions of the creator god, Saslokha. She portrayed him as a deity of many forms—ranging from a deer and a goat to even a giant. Yet, drawing any concrete connections from this is speculative at best,” she analyzed aloud. “These pieces of information suggest that while Vanna and the rest of our group are part of the same grand narrative, our adventures have spanned distinct ‘realities’. The interconnectedness of these ‘realities’, though, is unmistakable…”
Morris, nodding in assent, readjusted his monocle, sharpening his focus on the discussion. “Absolutely, these ‘realities’ are both unmistakably emanations of the Dream of the Nameless One,” he concurred. A thoughtful silence enveloped the room as everyone pondered his words, the depth of his experience reflected in the creases of his face. After a moment of contemplation, he ventured, “Considering this puzzle, our main objective now should be to unravel the nature of the divergence between these realities. Are we talking about spatial differences within the dreamworld, or perhaps, more intriguingly, are these variations across different timelines?”
