Deep Sea Embers

Heidi followed a worker dressed in a deep blue uniform, heading towards another room within the medical facility. As they walked, the worker briefed her on the situation.

“The ‘patient’ woke up before anyone else. She found you unconscious next to the bed and ran to the corridor to call for help. That’s when we realized something was amiss in the room…”

“Because of your prior instructions, we had the church’s guardians and the stationed priests inspect the vicinity of the room first. They didn’t find any traces of supernatural contamination, but you remained in a deep slumber… We then moved you to a room closer to the chapel…”

“The elven girl is still here. She seems to be mentally stable, but can’t seem to remember the events in her dreams or explain how she suddenly fell into a deep sleep. We asked her to stay a bit longer in case you wanted to ask her anything.”

“Her family is here too, in case you need to speak with them…”

The worker then paused, looking hesitant. Turning to Heidi, he said, “I’m sorry, I forgot you’ve just awakened from a long slumber. Do you need to rest now?”

“I don’t need to rest; I’ve slept long enough,” Heidi replied, waving her hand dismissively. She found herself continually glancing at the worker’s face, but soon managed to control her gaze and facial expression. Then, almost casually, she asked, “Before you entered, did you notice any strange occurrences in my room?”

“Strange occurrences?” The worker frowned, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. “No. Did something happen?”

An uninvited guest had invaded the room, crossing the rift in the timeline—only to spout a bunch of cryptic messages and then leave.

These thoughts raced through Heidi’s mind. However, she quickly shook her head and replied calmly, “No, I was just asking to verify if anything unusual happened in my room while I was unconscious.”

The worker before her was just an ordinary liaison. The cryptic messenger had given Heidi an eerie feeling. For cautionary reasons, it was better not to disclose anything about the “messenger” to laypersons.

Once she’s back, she should report directly to the church, or perhaps the central cathedral of the city-state.

Maybe she should also inform her father, and that certain Captain Duncan?

All kinds of thoughts swirled in Heidi’s mind. Some were so startling that they sent shivers down her spine. And as these thoughts ebbed and flowed, she realized they had reached the end of the corridor.

The worker who led the way briefly handed over some information before silently departing. Standing outside the room, Heidi took a deep breath, quickly composed herself, and then pushed the door open.

Inside the pristine and brightly lit hospital room, the elven girl, who had previously been in a deep sleep, sat peacefully on the bed. Propped up by pillows and blankets, she was engrossed in a book she held. Nearby, a plump and kind-looking elderly elven woman sat at the edge of the bed, meticulously peeling an apple.

As Heidi entered the room, the elven girl immediately looked up, her face blossoming into a radiant smile. “Ah! Miss Doctor! You’re awake?”

“I came to check on you,” Heidi replied with a smile, walking towards the bed. She nodded respectfully to the gentle-looking elderly elf, “Hello, may I know if you are…”

“She’s my grandmother!” the elven girl on the bed interjected excitedly.

The elderly woman gave her granddaughter a playful, resigned look before turning to Heidi with a smile. “This child is a bit overenthusiastic… Thank you very much for your assistance to Flora, Miss Heidi.”

A hint of embarrassment surfaced on Heidi’s face. “It feels like I wasn’t much help, especially since this ‘doctor’ herself fell into a deep sleep.”

“I heard from the staff here that you fell into that sleep while trying to awaken Flora from her nightmare,” the elderly elf said, offering Heidi the apple she had just peeled. Her warm and genuine demeanor didn’t come across as mere politeness. “And Flora mentioned that, during her dream, she felt someone was protecting her. When danger approached, there were consecutive gunshots dispelling her fears.”

Consecutive gunshots? Approaching danger? Was she referring to the time when, during the dream backlash, the Annihilator tried to approach the bed, using Heidi’s “suggestive entrance”?

Heidi’s mind raced with speculations. She thanked the elderly woman for the apple, then sat in the chair next to the bed, focusing intently on the elven girl named Flora. “So, you’re Flora, right? Do you recall how you fell into that sleep?”

“I remember… I was reading at home,” Flora pondered, furrowing her brows, “The sun had gone out earlier, and grandma told me it was dangerous outside, so she asked me to stay put in my room. When the sun came back on, I got bored, so I started reading a book—after all, the sun was shining again. But somehow, just a short while into reading, I felt really tired and fell asleep…”

“Reading?”

Heidi muttered to herself, her gaze drifting over to the book Flora had been holding. On its light purple cover, an elegant title caught her eye— “The Dreamless Prince’s Crystal Garden.”

“If you ask me, it’s all these nonsensical books she reads,” the plump elven grandmother grumbled, “Filling her head with whimsical fantasies. Reading these will surely taint her someday. The gods won’t look kindly upon a romance between two men…”

Flora immediately corrected with a hint of annoyance, “It’s not just two characters, it’s several!”

Heidi shook her head at the elderly woman, “Rest assured, the content of this book isn’t the cause.”

Upon hearing this, Flora’s face lit up with surprise, “Miss Doctor, you’ve read it too?!”

Heidi, taken aback, remained silent for a moment.

Drawing on her many years of professional experience, Heidi chose to ignore the contrasting reactions of Flora and her grandmother. Instead, she looked sternly at the young elf, “To be clear, during the time when the sun went out, you didn’t try to observe its surface or look up at the sky?”

“Of course not! Who would dare?” Flora replied, playfully sticking out her tongue. “Who in their right mind would risk looking around when the sun’s gone out?”

Heidi, keeping a neutral expression, continued, “Do you remember anything that happened during your sleep? Any small impressions will help—apart from the ‘gunshots,’ I’m aware of that.”

Flora thought hard for a moment, “Aside from those gunshots, I only have a vague recollection. I felt like I was lying in the darkness, feeling drowsy and unable to see or hear clearly. And in that darkness, there were many, many shadows, almost like other people, standing all around me.”contemporary romance

Heidi’s expression immediately became more serious, “Many shadows?”

….

Somewhere on the Boundless Sea, far from Pland and Wind Harbor, a figure clad in a thick black coat hurriedly darted into a narrow alley.

The figure appeared flustered and a bit panicked, moving with a slight limp. Trying to avoid the potential prying eyes at the entrance of the alley, he kept turning into various sidestreets. After navigating the maze-like alleys for what seemed like an eternity, he finally slipped into a house.

By this time, dusk was approaching. The sun’s afterglow was gently fading from the city. Street gas lamps were yet to be lit, and an early darkness had already settled, enveloping the buildings within the city-state.

The sound of a matchstick striking resonated, and a lantern inside the house was lit.

The man threw his heavy black coat onto the armrest of a sofa and moved to a liquor cabinet. He poured himself a full glass of strong alcohol, sat down on the sofa, and drank half of it in one gulp. It was only under the slight comfort brought by the lantern’s light that he took a deep breath of relief.

The potent alcohol stimulated his taste buds and nerves, easing the bone-chilling tension that had wrapped around him. He felt the courage and vitality returning to his body, with his slightly cold hands and feet warming up once more.

The faint sound of chain friction filled the air. Trailing behind the man, a pitch-black chain slowly materialized from the void. One end of the chain was anchored to him, while the other end tethered an ethereal jellyfish-like entity, seemingly sculpted from smoky wisps.

This enigmatic, dim-witted demon revealed its form, pulsating unconsciously in mid-air, sending ripples of unrest towards the man.

“I know, I know, we barely escaped that mess,” the man muttered, showing a trace of irritation. He was well aware that this shadow demon lacked emotions and didn’t understand human speech. Yet, after coexisting with it for many years, he’d instinctively started conversing with it, as if this perilous entity was a trusted family member or friend. “Who could’ve predicted that cursed captain would suddenly appear? Dammit, how does this even concern him?”

He set his glass aside, leaned back on the couch, and stared aimlessly at the ceiling, his tone dripping with bitterness.

“Those mindless sun remnants are useless, they couldn’t even handle the ‘witch’. Psh, these low-tier devotees are brain-dead, even those called ‘Emissaries’ are just thoughtless dregs. And the so-called ‘Sun Offspring’ are merely unthinking puppets… Those Suntists, from top to bottom, barely a handful seem competent. I was nearly killed by their incompetence.”

Mumbling, he stood up, refilled his glass, and took two large gulps. The alcohol’s warmth slowly calmed his racing heart. He then glanced at his cohabiting demon.

“Calm down; we’re safe now. There’ll be other opportunities. If those incessantly preaching Enders are right, many more elves will soon fall under the influence of the ‘Primal Flaw’. We’ll have our chance to reenter that dreamscape…”

His voice trailed off.

The smoky jellyfish kept undulating in the air, sending increasingly anxious signals to its host. The man began sensing something— his typically dull intuition suddenly flared, warning him. Amid waves of intensifying fear, his perception finally breached his subconscious defenses, making him keenly aware of… the gaze that was close by.

He swallowed nervously, and his eyes began to drift downwards.

He looked at the glass in his hand.

The remaining liquid shimmered, reflecting the flickering lantern light. Under a sinister greenish glow, a somber and imposing face reflected in the glass, staring calmly at him.

“Continue,” a phantom voice echoed in his mind, sounding almost like his own thoughts, “I enjoy those who are fond of talking to themselves.”

done.co