Indeed, by the time the message reached Duncan through Lucretia, he was already en route to Wind Harbor, rapidly approaching the boundaries of the independent city-state.
Duncan had decided to return because he had come to a harrowing realization: simply moving the ship farther away wouldn’t stop the advancement of the haunting dream orchestrated by the mysterious Nameless One. Even as part of Duncan’s consciousness journeyed deeper into the surreal territories of this dream world, his physical presence in the real world deemed it imperative to sail back posthaste.
The maritime horizon was masked by a sky of tumultuous dark clouds. The sea below had taken on a peculiar appearance with thick, jet-black tendrils, reminiscent of strands of hair, spreading across its surface. It was as though an artist had carelessly smeared ink across a canvas, blurring the distinctions between reality and illusion. Both clear and blurry shadows danced across the water, and eerie images from the spirit realm seemed to constantly shimmer and shift just at the periphery of one’s sight.
The sails of the Vanished were full and taut here, enabling the ship to glide with unmatched speed across this spectral sea. Illusory apparitions that sprouted from the depths were dispersed as the ship moved forward. Those that couldn’t dodge fast enough were caught in the ghostly green fire that trailed the ship, tearing these phantasms apart.
At the helm of the ship, Duncan firmly held the ship’s wheel, his stance determined. While he steered the massive vessel, he was also intently listening to the alarming updates being relayed by Lucretia and Morris from Wind Harbor.
Next to Duncan stood the ethereal figure of Agatha. In the dim light of this spirit realm, she seemed to shift and change, taking on the appearance of a ghostly apparition.
Morris’s voice, transmitted through a telepathic link, conveyed the dire situation, “…The forest spawned by the dream of the Nameless One now engulfs the entire city. The trees and plants are no longer illusions – they’ve materialized and are wreaking havoc on the city’s architecture. Streets have been overtaken by dense foliage, leaving many of the city’s inhabitants trapped…
“Entire structures have been subsumed, replaced by towering trees. We don’t know what’s become of those who were inside…”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})“Vanna recently surveyed the city and corroborated the physical presence and damage caused by these dream-born plants. Even more disconcerting, these dream manifestations don’t display any paranormal traits…”
“We’ve also tried reaching out through psychic channels to both the Grand Storm Cathedral and the Academy Ark. The church, having detected the abnormalities in Wind Harbor, has already mobilized its border fleet to our aid…”
Duncan, taking in this information, displayed a grave and contemplative expression.
The Vanished then accelerated even more, its supernatural speed unmatched by conventional vessels. Its very structure emitted a soft groan, signaling the ship’s response to its captain’s directive.
The Nameless One’s dream was certainly expanding, but the speed of its growth was alarming. Rather than seeing this as a natural evolution of the vast dream, Duncan surmised that the dream was teetering on the brink of chaos.
Beside him, Agatha spoke with a tone laden with concern, “Captain, this feels all too familiar—it reminds me of our previous encounter with Frost.”
Duncan remained silent for a moment, his forehead creased with deep thought. His mind involuntarily drifted back to a scene he had glimpsed within the Vanished.
Vividly, he recalled seeing the massive spinal column of an ancient deity and the ship itself. It had been reassembled from subspace by the powers of Saslokha. The enigmatic nature of its original “keel” or foundation also played in his memories.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})All these fragments of information appeared to be coming together, leading him to the current strange occurrences in Wind Harbor and the relentless visions of the entity known as the Nameless One.
Duncan was beginning to see the larger picture.
It all seemed interwoven. The Vanished had long ago been entwined in the complex series of events that were currently unraveling. The genesis of this intricate saga could possibly be dated back to a hundred years ago, when a man named Duncan Abnomar had embarked on the ambitious project of constructing this colossal ship.
“We must seek out Atlantis,” Duncan abruptly whispered.
Agatha, who had been standing next to him, looked puzzled. “Captain?”
Duncan continued, “The condition of the ‘Dream of the Nameless One’ is deeply linked with ‘Atlantis’. From the evidence we’ve pieced together, it seems that the idea of Atlantis is embedded in the subconscious of every elf. Something has agitated this dormant ‘World Tree’, causing its present deterioration,” Duncan’s thoughts flowed quickly, and he spoke in a rush, “Our goal is to find Atlantis.”
Agatha replied, her voice laced with uncertainty, “But how would we even begin our search? We’ve ventured to the very fringes of the Dream of the Nameless One. Yet, Atlantis appears to be a shapeless entity within that infinite abyss. That reticent creature with the goat head claimed that ‘she’ is currently resistant to being disturbed or awakened…”
Duncan interjected, “There might be another way.” Without pause, he sent a telepathic message to Lucy.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})A voice, belonging to Lucretia, echoed in his heart, “I’m here.”
“Do you have any memories regarding the construction of the Vanished?”
Lucretia sounded slightly disoriented by the unexpected question. “I was merely a child back then,” her voice carried a touch of uncertainty, “My memories are hazy, and the adults kept me away from the construction site. Maybe my brother knows more? He was around seven or eight and was known to sneak into the shipyard…”
Without hesitation, Duncan mentally reached out to Tyrian.
After a brief moment of silence, a cacophony of jumbled thoughts flooded Duncan’s mind. Following this was Tyrian’s voice, filled with shock and confusion, “Father? What’s going on? Why…”
Duncan cut to the chase, “Lucy mentioned that as a child, you frequented the site where the Vanished was being built?”
Duncan could sense the wave of anxiety from Tyrian, even across the vast mental distance.
Tyrian responded defensively, sounding flustered, “That’s not true! You shouldn’t take Lucy’s words at face value, she always…”
Before Tyrian could finish his sentence, Lucretia’s voice cut through sharply, “Brother, let’s be clear. Wind Harbor is experiencing chaos, and our father needs a vital answer from you.”
Following closely on her heels, Vanna said, “Mr. Tyrian, understand that this is no trivial issue.”
Caught off guard, Tyrian hesitated for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice held a mixture of confusion and surprise, “Why are all of you present?”
Shirley chimed in, “Yep, everyone is here, even Dog is part of this!”
Sensing the situation turning more into a friendly banter among those linked by their spiritual fire marks in his consciousness, Duncan quickly interjected, “Enough. This is not the time for casual chat.” He then directed his question to Tyrian, “Tyrian, can you recall the construction of the Vanished? Specifically, do you remember where its foundational structure, the ‘keel’, was sourced?”
The urgency in Duncan’s tone seemed to snap Tyrian back to the gravity of their discussion.
There was a heavy silence that settled within Duncan’s mind.
After what felt like an eternity, Tyrian responded, albeit with a hint of hesitation, “I was but a child then, so I don’t have a vivid memory. It’s not like you’d discuss complex shipbuilding intricacies with a youngster. What I do recollect is that you retrieved the ship’s ‘keel’ from the fog located near the borders during one of your exploration journeys…”
“You mean to say I fetched it from a foggy area by the borders?”
Tyrian confirmed, “Yes, that’s right. On your various travels, you would often return with remarkable and intriguing artifacts that made you the talk of other explorers. But that particular ‘massive timber’ you sourced from the foggy border region was exceptional. It was so enormous that your ship couldn’t haul it on its own. It required the support of two additional smaller ships. And it was an exhaustive two-month effort to transport it close to Pland.”
He paused, carefully watching his words before continuing, “You didn’t choose Pland simply because our lineage had its roots there. It was also because Pland was home to the world’s largest shipbuilding dock at that period.”
Tyrian elaborated further, “Later, you shared your grand vision—to create a ship, unparalleled in design and grandeur, using that unique ‘wood’ you had found in the foggy borders. Crafting that magnificent vessel wasn’t a swift task. It took a good seven years, even with the wealth of resources at hand, the availability of the most sophisticated shipbuilding infrastructure, and the expertise of numerous shipbuilding maestros who were attracted to Pland due to your ambitious project. Post its inaugural journey, it took many more years of enhancements and fine-tuning for it to earn its legendary status as the ‘Vanished.'”
He concluded, “My understanding and knowledge about that ship matured over its building phase. The origin story of the ‘keel’ came to me much later, from casual talks among the workers. Before that, you had never really shared much about it with me.”
As Duncan absorbed Tyrian’s account, every word echoed with weight and meaning within his mind. He took a deep breath, carefully piecing together the mosaic of the Vanished’s history that was previously unknown to him.
Even though he held the title of the captain of the Vanished, the ship’s enigmatic past had eluded him until now. It was surprising, but he took solace in the fact that it was better late than never.
There was a brief pause, and then Duncan inquired with a sense of urgency, “Tell me more about that keel. What other details can you provide?”
Tyrian seemed to be diving deep into his reservoir of memories. The silence between them grew, tension building like a taut string.
After what felt like ages, Tyrian began, “There was a craftsman I once spoke to. He mentioned how the keel posed unprecedented challenges. It was unlike any timber they’d encountered before. Its robustness was beyond comprehension. Also, given that it was sourced from the frontier, it exhibited peculiarities. Some workers swore they heard eerie noises emanating from it during the night. Others observed how scratches or markings on its surface would mend themselves over time. These anomalies almost brought the ship’s construction to a standstill, as no one could mold this stubborn timber into the envisioned keel.”
Pausing for a breath, Tyrian added, “However, there was an unexpected twist. It turned out that craftsmen of elvish descent had an uncanny ability to manipulate that ‘wood’.”
Duncan, surprised, interrupted, “Elvish craftsmen?”
Tyrian nodded, “Yes. After months of relentless yet fruitless attempts, an elven artisan inadvertently discovered this. Suddenly, the timber that had been a source of endless frustration became as pliable as pine in the hands of an elf. Recognizing this advantage, the shipyard in Pland redeployed all their elvish artisans to prioritize the construction of the Vanished. They even sought and employed elves from neighboring regions…”
Duncan’s face was etched with deep contemplation as he processed this revelation. After Tyrian’s account trailed off, Duncan took a moment and then asked, “Is there more to this story?”
Tyrian hesitated, rummaging through his memories. “There’s another instance, though it’s somewhat blurred now. Close to the Vanished’s completion, I had the chance to aid you in minor capacities. One day, you led me to the dry dock. I remember you had consumed some wine and were in a particularly jovial mood. Pointing towards the majestic Vanished, you remarked,
‘Tyrian, what you see there is but a mere twig.’
To this day, I’m still trying to decipher the true essence of those words.”
