Duncan intently watched the elderly elf in front of him, noting an odd occurrence. Lune, the elder elf, appeared to be transforming—his body turning semi-transparent, like a fading ghost about to disappear.
The elder elf noticed Duncan’s look of mild astonishment. “You have a keen eye, Captain,” Lune remarked in a graceful, thoughtful tone. He raised his hand for emphasis, “Parts of me are turning translucent, almost ghost-like. A mysterious force is drawing me towards ‘It’.”
Duncan’s expression changed slightly. “I never thought the power of Atlantis could affect a high-ranking elf like a ‘Pope.'”
Calmly, Lune replied, “Title or not, I am still an elf. There’s a force within us all, unconcerned with status. The allure of Atlantis is strong, calling all elves back to our ancestral Mother Tree.”
Duncan furrowed his brows, his face showing confusion. “Yet, you seem lucid. Other elves I’ve met appeared… entranced.”
Lune gave a gentle smile. “I have not succumbed to the call.”
Duncan looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“As a ‘Pope,’ I have certain advantages,” Lune mused. “For now, I can resist the pull of Atlantis.” He then glanced past Duncan towards the ship. “Captain, may I come aboard your ship? I believe I have knowledge that could aid us in our current predicament.”
After a moment’s thought, Duncan gestured invitingly. “Are you sure your beliefs permit you to board a subspace shadow ship?”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})“The divine teachings are timeless,” Lune answered thoughtfully. “But human interpretations evolve. I’ll discuss the specifics with the bishops later.” He confidently walked past the gangplank onto the deck of the Vanished.
Duncan noticed that Lune’s entourage, including attendants and guards, remained on the gangplank, not following their leader. Surprised, he asked, “Aren’t they joining you on board?”
“They chose to stay behind. Some discussions are better held in private,” Lune replied, pausing to look back at Duncan.
Intrigued by the elder elf’s bold approach, Duncan joined Lune on the deck. As they walked, he voiced his concern, “You came without any guards. Aren’t you concerned about your safety?”
“If you were a real threat, would guards actually protect me aboard the Vanished?” Lune responded knowingly.
Duncan chuckled. “Honestly, they’d probably be more worried about themselves.”
“That’s the essence of practicality,” Lune stated confidently. “It’s essential for a scholar.” He continued walking with Duncan towards the captain’s quarters.
As they navigated the dimly lit corridors of the ship, Duncan briefed Lune on the unsettling recent events, including the mysterious disappearance of Wind Harbor and its effects on the neighboring city-states.
When they reached the aft deck of the ship, Lune stopped to gaze at the sea, where Wind Harbor once bustled.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})Now, only the calm sea shone in the golden sunset, with a faint geometric shape floating in the distance. Duncan saw almost invisible, dense strands hovering over the water. To Lune, the expanse seemed desolately empty.
Breaking the silence, Duncan remarked, “When I arrived, this emptiness is all I found. I trust you won’t blame its disappearance on me?”
Lune took a deep breath, his voice laden with thought, “Initially, yes, some suspicions were directed your way. Had Banster been here, his doubts would likely have been stronger.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Understand, Captain, the vanishing of an entire city-state is incomprehensible. And with the Vanished nearby at that time—even if we’re certain this relates to the ‘Dream of the Nameless One,’ it’s difficult to avoid fear and speculation.”
Silently, Duncan motioned towards the captain’s quarters, inviting Lune inside.
As Lune entered, he sensed the room was charged with the silent stories and mysteries many believed it held. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation.
“Captain, you’re back!” Alice’s joyful voice broke the silence. She rushed towards Duncan with enthusiasm, stopping abruptly when she noticed Lune. “Who is this elderly gentleman?”
Caught off guard by Alice’s sudden appearance and her vibrant energy, Lune hesitated briefly. Regaining his composure, he recognized her. “You are Miss Alice, are you not?”
Alice tilted her head, a spark of curiosity in her eyes, “Indeed, I am. And you are?”
“I serve the God of Wisdom,” Lune replied, his smile softening his demeanor, “Please, call me Lune.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})Duncan, feeling a need to clarify further, added, “He’s Morris’s mentor.” He knew this would make more sense to Alice.
Alice’s eyes widened in recognition and respect. “Oh, so you are the renowned teacher of Mr. Morris! You certainly have a distinguished presence.” She moved energetically towards the small tea stove in the corner. “I’ll make us a delightful blend, just a moment!”
As Alice busied herself, Lune observed her with a mix of admiration and curiosity. He knew of her through classified documents, which described her as somewhat unpredictable and difficult to manage. His gaze drifted around the room, appreciating the diverse decorations of the captain’s quarters. However, an uneasy feeling grew within him, the fine hairs on his neck standing up. Trusting his instincts, he looked away, finding himself staring at a jet-black wooden carving of a goat head on the navigation table. The carving’s deep-set obsidian eyes seemed to emit a chilling glare.
Time seemed to freeze as Lune’s gaze became transfixed on the eerie carving.
Suddenly, Goathead began to move subtly. In a voice rich with sarcasm, it spoke, “Caught your attention, have I? Is it so surprising to see a masterpiece?”
The goat’s voice jolted Lune from his trance. Gasping, he quickly looked away from the carving. Glancing anxiously at Duncan, his voice shook, “It saw us!”
Duncan quickly asked, “Atlantis?”
With wide eyes, Lune confirmed, “Yes, Atlantis! It’s hard to describe, but I felt as if Atlantis herself was peering into my soul, right here in this room. The emotions she conveyed were a tumultuous mix of confusion, fear, even anger… so intense and conflicting…”
Suddenly, Lune waved his hands as if to clear an invisible fog from his vision. Duncan noted that in that moment, Lune’s form seemed even more translucent. However, the elder elf quickly gathered himself, his eyes settling with a resolute glint, “The connection has been temporarily cut off, but it’s uncertain when she might return. Captain, we don’t have much time. Please, listen to what I have to say.”
With a resolve that bordered on the superhuman, Lune seemed to break the mental link to Atlantis, grounding himself in the present. He took a seat next to the navigation table, urgency in his voice as he began to speak.
“The call from Atlantis is relentless, affecting elves everywhere. This force pulls at our very essence. During my brief connection, I was exposed to some of her deepest thoughts.”
Lune’s voice trembled with urgency as he described, “In her memories, I saw the terrifying aftermath of an apocalypse—a devastating event that destroyed everything in its path.” His face twisted in anguish, and he gripped his hands tightly. “It’s not merely a relic of the past; it’s a vivid, ongoing nightmare deeply embedded in her consciousness. This disaster triggered her spiral into chaos. The buried emotions of fear, anger, and intense desolation are reemerging as she awakens. Yet, that’s only part of the story.”
He paused, his breathing erratic as he struggled with the emotions and memories flooding through him. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Lune continued, “Beyond her general fury, I sensed a specific, turbulent emotion directed at our people, the elves. It’s a whirlwind of feelings: a strong pull urging elves to seek the World Tree, mixed with a stark repulsion—as if she views this ‘refuge’ with dread. It seems she regards us in the light of…”
Lune struggled with the overwhelming sensations, his voice breaking as he sought the right words. Finally, he exhaled deeply and said softly, “She appears to see us as a… a hybrid abomination.”
His gaze then shifted, focusing on the window that framed the view of where Wind Harbor once stood.
On any ordinary day, the harbor and the ghostly tendrils above the water would be invisible to him.
Yet, he was captivated by it, his gaze unwaveringly directed there. It was as if the memories ingrained in the collective consciousness of the elves pulled him to where the “World Tree” once stood, resonating deeply within him.
With a mix of awe and apprehension, Lune whispered, “Amid her turmoil, there’s another presence… On the far side of this catastrophe, another being, also caught in its madness, is reaching out, albeit weakly, trying to communicate.”
Suddenly, a clinking noise interrupted his thoughts.
Alice, who had been busy at the tea stove, suddenly stood up straight, her eyes widening in alarm as she looked out the window.
“Captain!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with panic. “The soul strings… they’re moving!”
