Chapter 522: Morris’s Hypothesis
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
Deep within the Bright Star’s laboratory, the renowned witch Lucretia, known as the “Sea Witch” for her expertise in mysticism and curses, had just finished her initial examination of the distinguished elf, Taran El. The collaboration with the Academy of Truth made bringing this esteemed scholar aboard straightforward, but unraveling the mystery of his condition proved far more challenging.
Lucretia was confronted with an unusual situation. Taran El appeared to be trapped in a dreamlike state, but there were no signs of a curse or mental compromise. Determined to employ her mystical techniques, Lucretia ignited three candelabras positioned in the lab’s corners and sprinkled a special herbal powder into an incense burner before the candles. She then placed various mystical artifacts around Taran El, including crystals and bone shards.
Her two peculiar assistants, Luni, a ceramic-encased mechanical doll, and Rabbi, a toy rabbit, watched intently. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Luni asked, “Is it serious? Is the elf’s very existence at risk?”
“The nature of this situation is still unclear, which makes it all the more troubling,” Lucretia replied solemnly. “It’s believed that Taran El fell into this state after attempting to gaze upon the sun. If these events are connected, it could mean others might be suffering similarly. During the period when the sun vanished, many might have looked up in awe or curiosity. The pressing question is: how many of them fell into this profound slumber due to their actions, especially those as daring as our elven scholar?”
Reflecting for a moment, she added, “While Taran El’s courage is undeniable, the vast domain of the Boundless Sea houses countless scholars with equal audacity.”
Rabbi, with a soft-spoken demeanor, hopped forward and inquired, “What do you need us to do next?”
Lucretia outlined her plan, “I intend to delve into Taran El’s dream realm to guide him back to our reality. Given the unpredictability of this dream world, I need you both to monitor the candelabras closely. If I remain unresponsive for three hours, extinguish the candles sequentially, starting with the tallest and ending with the shortest. This will pull me back to consciousness.”
Luni affirmed, “Three hours, and in the specified order. I’ll make sure of it.”
With boundless enthusiasm, Rabbi suggested, “I could accompany Mistress into the dream! After all, Rabbi is adept at navigating dreams!”
“One nightmare at a time is all I can handle,” Lucretia promptly responded, rejecting Rabbi’s well-intentioned offer. “The last thing I need is for a renowned scholar like Taran El to meet his end under my watch.”
Rabbi’s ears drooped as his hopes were dashed. He murmured, “Alright, Rabbi gets it.” He ambled to a quiet corner of the lab and settled onto the floor with a soft, despondent ‘plop,’ his plush form sagging with sadness.
Lucretia threw a sympathetic glance in Rabbi’s direction but chose not to pursue further dialogue. She mentally ran through a checklist, ensuring every element for her forthcoming ritual was in place. Settling herself on an ornate, high-backed chair that faced Taran El, she confidently snapped her fingers.
The flames of the three candelabras suddenly danced as if cloaked in a mystical mist. The entire laboratory was bathed in an enchanting luminescence, every object shimmering with a surreal glow. Lucretia, the famed “Sea Witch,” gracefully lowered her head, allowing herself to be drawn into the depths of the dream realm.
On the vessel named “Vanished,” Morris and Duncan sat by a detailed navigation table in the captain’s private chamber. Behind them, a large, ornately framed oval mirror showcased the vague silhouette of Agatha.
Duncan, adjusting his sleeve, said, “Ai has conducted a preliminary aerial reconnaissance. The approaching landmass has been verified as Wind Harbor.” He paused to gather his thoughts, “The Vanished remains hidden, enveloped by the spirit realm. We’ll consult with Lucretia for insights into the city’s current state before we dock. However, the baffling mystery we currently grapple with is the unanticipated movement of our ship, the Vanished.”
Morris, pulling out his pipe, took a thoughtful puff. “I’m utterly confounded,” he admitted, the furrows in his brow deepening. “I’ve heard accounts of various spontaneous ‘teleportation’ occurrences. Some stem from unique phenomena, others from curse anomalies, like the one dubbed ‘Sailor.’ Yet, what transpired with the Vanished doesn’t align with any known incident. The ‘sun’s extinguishing’ event seems the most plausible explanation for our ship’s unexpected repositioning. But the conundrum is that none of us aboard were aware of the specifics or the exact moment this transition took place…”
Duncan, leaning forward, voiced his hypothesis, “I’ve been thinking the root cause isn’t exclusive to the Vanished. Rather, it pertains to the larger, ‘external world’ surrounding it.” He continued gravely, “Hints from Captain Lawrence’s message reinforced this theory – in the aftermath of the sun’s disappearance, the oceans ‘beyond our view’ underwent unfathomable transformations. Tyrian’s briefing resonates with this too.”
From the mirror, Agatha’s voice broke through, urgency in her tone, “Has there been any subsequent correspondence from Mr. Tyrian? Have we received word from Cold Harbor?”
Duncan’s gaze held an intensity that seemed uncharacteristic, even for him. “Tyrian has re-established contact with several city-states that had mysteriously gone silent,” he began, his voice deep and measured. “And the feedback is… perplexing. Not only are these city-states, including Cold Harbor, entirely oblivious to the sun’s sudden disappearance, but they also deny any interruptions in their communication with Frost.”
Agatha’s eyes, always sharp and discerning, now widened slightly in surprise.
She finally said, “So, you’re suggesting…”
Duncan took a deep breath before answering, “Precisely. They appear to be completely unaware of those twelve hours when the sun vanished from the sky. For them, life continued as usual, uninterrupted. Places like Frost, Pland, and Wind Harbor seemed perfectly normal. Suddenly, they were bombarded with these urgent, confusing messages from Frost regarding the sun’s mysterious ‘blackout’ and subsequent ‘communication blackouts.’ Now, these city-states are grappling with unrest and disbelief. As Tyrian aptly put it, ‘they’re frantically trying to discern which reality is the aberration.’”
Morris, usually so composed, seemed slightly shaken by this revelation. He put aside his pipe, collecting his thoughts before speaking, “If we extrapolate from this, it suggests that when the sun disappeared, the progression of time throughout the world froze for those twelve hours. Within that window, places like the Vanished and the aforementioned city-states unwittingly continued their existence, unaware of the temporal standstill. It’s reminiscent of a colossal, shared dream from which only we seem to have awakened prematurely, bearing witness to the time lapse.”
Duncan nodded appreciatively. The depth of Morris’s insight was impressive. While he might not have the answers to every nuance of this enigma, he had certainly illuminated a novel perspective.
But the ramifications of such a theory were staggering. Had there been other anomalies in the world after the sun’s disappearance that had gone unnoticed? Extrapolating further, was this the inaugural instance of the sun’s absence?
These heavy thoughts lingered palpably in the air, casting a solemn quiet over the captain’s quarters. Suddenly, Duncan’s face took on a look of consternation, “Did anyone else feel that?”
Agatha leaned forward, concern evident, “What is it, Captain? Have you discerned something new?”
Duncan seemed momentarily distant, his gaze penetrating something beyond the confines of the room. “No, it’s something… different,” he murmured, and then, more urgently, “Where is Heidi right now?”
Morris looked momentarily stunned by the abrupt shift in topic, “Heidi remained in Pland. With the upheaval surrounding the sun’s disappearance, she’s likely been summoned to the city’s council chambers. They’d want her insights. But why do you ask? Is something amiss with Heidi?”
Understanding slowly dawned on Morris, and his countenance darkened with foreboding.
Duncan’s eyes narrowed, his brow creased in concentration. “She ought to be safe, but the protective amulet I entrusted to her is sending some odd vibrations,” he explained, his voice laden with concern. With a fluid, sweeping motion, he summoned a vibrant green flame into the room. The ethereal blaze crackled and shifted, eventually revealing the spectral figure of Ai, hovering mid-air. “I require a portal to the dream realm,” he commanded.
Taran El, the elven scholar with a demeanor as composed as his sharp intellect, stared quizzically at Heidi. “So, to recap,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “You were in the midst of aiding another individual when you inadvertently found yourself within my dream. Upon seeing me, you mistakenly deemed me an interloper and thus chose to, quite abruptly, poke me in the neck with that ornate spike of yours?” His gaze shifted pointedly to the shimmering golden spike nestled in Heidi’s grasp.
With a sheepish grin, Heidi replied, “When you put it that way, it does sound rather bizarre, doesn’t it?”
Taran El arched an eyebrow. “Bizarre is an understatement.”
Heidi let out an awkward chuckle. She had encountered a plethora of odd situations in her line of work over the years, but nothing quite like this. “Honestly, as peculiar as it might sound, every word is true,” she admitted.
Taran El tilted his head thoughtfully. “If we’re accepting that account,” he mused, “then where is this ‘other patient’ you spoke of?”
Without hesitation, Heidi spun around, extending her arm towards the vast forest, “Her dreamscape was housed in that grand medical structure right over there, amidst the verdant canopy and intertwined vines…”
But her voice faded, her enthusiasm replaced by sheer disbelief. Where the imposing building once stood, there was now only a sprawling expanse of untouched wilderness.
“I… I don’t understand,” Heidi stammered, her gaze darting about in confusion. “It was right there, grand and imposing. How could it simply disappear?”
Watching Heidi’s growing dismay, Taran El couldn’t help but interject with a hint of sarcasm, “Miss Mental Therapist, your credibility is dwindling with every passing moment.”
The surrounding environment seemed to amplify the gravity of his words, casting a shadow of doubt over Heidi’s narrative.
The world is constantly being attacked by a virus, the sun acts as a firewall. The moment the sun is turned off, the world is consumed by the virus. Duncan’s green fire is like a second firewall.