Chapter 626: The Call
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Vanna acknowledged that the elderly Morris had a valid point. Performing a sacred ritual typically required three essential components: flame, sacred oil, and incense. While there were rare occasions where alternatives could be used, substituting all these elements with common kitchen ingredients seemed ridiculous.
Still, she was determined to give it a try.
She had managed to improvise during her time on the Vanished, and her search for the proper ritual materials at the so-called “Witch’s Mansion” had been fruitless.
“I should have known that a witch’s place wouldn’t have something like sacred oil,” Vanna said regretfully to Morris. “I admit, I’ve been too lax in my preparations.”
Morris muttered under his breath, “Ever since you performed a ritual on the ship with those unconventional items, you’ve become careless about preparing.”
Half-jokingly, Vanna pointed towards the street through the window, “Then perhaps you could go get what we need?”
Morris glanced outside at the eerie movements of the tree shadows. Given the current chaos in Wind Harbor, he decided it was best to keep his thoughts to himself.
Shirley came over quickly, with Dog in tow, and with a mischievous twinkle, she suggested, “How about adding some ginger and garlic?”
“For what?” Vanna asked, genuinely puzzled.
Shirley replied with a playful smirk, “After the ritual, you can have Luni cook us a meal. I’m starving.”
Vanna’s expression turned serious, and she chided, “You shouldn’t make jokes about this! This is a sacred ritual. My improvisations are out of necessity, given our circumstances.”
Shirley and Dog backed away from Vanna.
“Why are you moving away?” Vanna asked, confused.
“I may not understand all your holy rituals,” Shirley began dismissively, “but common sense says to be careful. If you attract lightning, I’d rather not be nearby after offending your goddess with those items.”
Vanna was speechless.
Focusing again, Miss Inquisitor moved past the onlookers at the doorway and took a deep breath, ready to start the ritual to open a psychic channel.
As she began, flames surged, and the oil bubbled intensely.
At its core, fire remained a primal element. Its use in rituals, a testament to human progress, symbolizes a divine connection. And at the heart of this connection is a simple message: “I am present.”
Vanna, regarded as one of the most exceptional clerics of her generation within the Storm Church, often held views that strayed from traditional teachings. Sometimes seen as heretical, these unconventional beliefs had become more frequent and pronounced recently.
As the sound of the ocean waves whispered into her ears, she felt as if someone was watching her with affection, their gaze lingering briefly before shifting away. Then, as if a window had opened out of nowhere, a psychic “channel” appeared before her. At the other end, she heard the clear voice of Bishop Valentine.
“Vanna?” The seasoned voice of the bishop expressed surprise. “This is unexpected. Why have you contacted me so suddenly? And… what is that odd smell?”
Ignoring his question about the smell, Vanna composed herself and replied firmly, “Bishop Valentine, the issue of the smell isn’t important right now. I have urgent matters that need your attention. Please, stay calm.”
Curious, he urged her to continue, “Go ahead. What is the issue?”
With urgency in her voice, Vanna explained, “The ship’s captain will soon be at the cathedral. He wants detailed information about the Vanished. He demands full disclosure of its construction and history.”
……
In the clinical setting of the hospital room, Duncan stood tense, his forehead furrowed with worry. Heidi, sharing his somber expression, stood beside him as they both gazed down at the frail figure of the young elf on the bed.
“He was admitted just this morning,” Heidi whispered, her voice tinged with distress. “And he’s not the only one. Many other elves are suffering too. Elf communities are overwhelmed by fear, uncertain who will be next to fall ill to this mysterious disease or vanish without a trace. The affliction appears to have supernatural roots. The church has deployed guardians to protect these communities, and their primary response has been to bring the afflicted here. Beyond that, they’re at a loss.”
Duncan stepped closer and leaned in to examine the young elf more closely. The elf appeared nearly spectral, as if he were on the brink of fading away, his faint outline barely clinging to the bed.
“This is more than just an extreme case of the known ‘sleeping sickness.’ No standard medical treatment seems applicable here,” Heidi said, her voice echoing her sense of defeat. “For those with milder symptoms, I tried exploring their minds. It was as if something massive was draining their thoughts and essence. There seems to be a powerful force, like a black hole, pulling these elves from our world.”
Listening to Heidi, Duncan’s face grew even graver. After a pause, he said firmly, “It’s Atlantis’s doing.”
Heidi turned to him, confused. “Atlantis?”
Duncan’s response was heavy with implication. “Yes, the same force behind the vortex you mentioned. I suggest you halt your mind-reading efforts. If it notices, it might draw you in, mistaking you for another elf.”
Heidi was visibly shaken by Duncan’s caution.
Suddenly, Duncan looked away, as if he sensed something afar. The Vanished was approaching Wind Harbor. Vanna had managed to contact the Storm Cathedral in Pland, and Bishop Valentine was preparing for the “Captain’s” arrival.
Meanwhile, Wind Harbor was in chaos. The once peaceful forests around it now seemed like menacing, endless green voids. The local police and guardian forces were struggling to handle the escalating crisis. Lucretia was actively seeking ways to assist and find a solution.
In Frost, a northern city-state known for its icy landscapes, the “sleeping sickness” was also spreading, similar to what was happening in Pland.
This pattern indicated a disturbing possibility: the outbreak wasn’t confined to Pland and Frost alone. With the situation in Wind Harbor deteriorating quickly, it seemed that elves worldwide were on the verge of a disaster, potentially being consumed by Atlantis.
But the unresolved questions remained: Why was this happening? Why was the World Tree, a sacred entity in elf lore and a guardian of their race, undergoing such frightful changes?
Lost in thought, Duncan was suddenly brought back to reality by a soft, unusual sound from the bed.
The elf patient, previously in a deep slumber and becoming increasingly ghostly, twitched slightly, and a low, resonant hum emerged from deep within his throat, suggesting he might be regaining consciousness.
Heidi quickly moved to the elf’s side, hopeful he was waking up. However, a disturbing scene unfolded: the other beds in the room began to show the same symptoms.
One by one, the previously motionless elves began to shake, each emitting a hauntingly similar hum. This simultaneous activity sent a wave of fear through Heidi. She instinctively looked to Duncan for guidance. As suddenly as they had started, the eerie sounds from the elves stopped altogether.
In a chilling moment, each elf opened their mouth, speaking as if a single consciousness was speaking through them:
“I am Ted Lir, currently deep within the Dream of the Nameless One.
I convey this message to the material realm through every means at my disposal. To those hearing this, spread it far and wide – Atlantis has lost her sanity.
She seeks to absorb every elf in a bid to enter the tangible world and establish herself anew.
She is no protector; she does not shield us.
We are resisting Atlantis’s dominant consciousness, striving to prevent her from invading our reality – but we face daunting odds.
We implore you for aid – protect the elves of the material realm from being consumed by Atlantis, preventing them from fading away or falling into eternal slumber. This may hinder Atlantis’s rise. I repeat, we desperately need assistance…”
The eerie chorus then abruptly stopped.
The afflicted elves returned to their mysterious slumber, making the incident seem almost like an illusion – the connection with Ted Lir had been suddenly cut.
“Ted Lir…” Heidi’s voice trailed off, the gravity of the message sinking in, “Isn’t he the Truth Keeper from Wind Harbor?”
A look of fear and shock was apparent in her eyes. The dire message and its abrupt delivery underscored the severity of the crisis.
Looking for reassurance and direction, she turned to Duncan, the “Captain,” hoping for some guidance or a plan of action in response to this alarming development.
Duncan appeared contemplative, his brow furrowed with worry. Though taken aback by Ted Lir’s sudden message, he quickly gathered his thoughts and began to devise a plan based on the limited but crucial information he had received.
“There’s no time to waste,” he stated decisively, facing Heidi. “I must set out immediately. We need to address this issue at its source.”
As he spoke, Heidi, still concerned about the immediate situation, asked, “And what about the situation here? How do we manage it?”
“Stay the course,” Duncan instructed, “Do everything in your power to prevent these elves from being consumed—try to keep their spirits anchored to our world as long as possible. We’ll handle the broader problem. Just keep them here.”