Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 601

Chapter 601: Chapter 600: Traces of a Dream Chapter 601: Chapter 600: Traces of a Dream Agatha could traverse shadows and mirrors in an instant. At the end of “The Dream of the Nameless,” she could return to the Homeloss in the real world and observe changes at the edge of the reflection boundary–Duncan had no doubts about her abilities.

“As long as Silantis and the goat-headed one awaken, 'The Dream of the Nameless' will end…” Duncan frowned slightly, carefully pondering the hypothesis Agatha had just put forward, “Does that mean that 'The Dream of the Nameless' is actually 'sustained' by both Silantis and the goat head?”

“Or rather, it's their shared dreamscape,” said Agatha earnestly, “This could also explain why that 'reflected Homeloss' sails on the edge of Silantis's Dreamscape.”

Duncan did not speak for a moment, silently organizing his thoughts.

After a while, he suddenly broke the silence, “So, as you said, the reason why 'The Dream of the Nameless' ended prematurely this time was because my first mate was 'awakened'–but what caused it to be 'awakened'?”

Agatha thought for a moment, then spoke uncertainly, “Perhaps… it has something to do with your last act of steering?”

Duncan's brows knit together slightly, “Steering?”

“This time you carefully controlled your flame, and by embedding the flame prematurely into the reflection of the Homeloss, you left a safe kindling on that 'Ship in the Dream', indeed avoiding 'startling' Silantis. However, to that 'Ship in the Dream', you are still an 'Outsider',” Agatha shared her speculation, “Do you remember? You touched that vine in Light Breeze Harbor, forcibly intervening from the 'outside' into that dark foggy space…”

As Agatha spoke, Duncan listened, and the goat-headed one kept turning its head back and forth, looking at the captain and then at Agatha. As the most directly involved party in the whole affair, it was the most confused on the scene. But now it finally understood Agatha's point, and quickly looked towards Duncan, “Captain, my loyalty is beyond question! You are the rightful master of the Homeloss, even in my dreams…”

“I know, but the problem isn't with you,” Duncan interrupted the goat head before it could finish babbling and waved his hand, “It's the intrinsic property of the dreamscape–it repels 'intrusion'.”

At this, he paused for a while, then continued thinking aloud, “It seems that unless one is dragged directly into the dreamscape and becomes part of 'The Dream of the Nameless' like Fenna and the others, any attempt to connect with 'The Dream of the Nameless' from the outside world will cause this kind of 'rejection', either waking Silantis or waking you…”

The goat head lifted its head, its wooden face surprisingly showing a human-like perplexity, “So what do we do? Captain, you know that I don't even realize when I am dreaming, I can't control that…”

“You might not be able to control it, but the matter in itself might not be difficult,” Duncan mused, “I've got an idea… We might be able to test it tonight.”

Lucricia frowned, looking at Taran El busily rummaging through a pile of “miscellaneous items” in the laboratory. After a long time, she finally couldn't help but speak up, “You sent apprentices to my house early in the morning to call me here, just to show me how messy your lab is? You've been 'excavating' in this pile of cluttered machinery and paper for half an hour… Did I mention I am busy?”

“It's almost ready, it's almost ready. There's a whole bunch of data here that needs to be compiled…” Taran El lifted his head from behind a machine with a black shell, his hair disheveled and smudged with grease, “I've improved all these devices myself, and as it turns out, there's still much room for improvement in terms of convenience… Oh, I finally got this paper box undone, this is the last one…”

The elf scholar muttered, finally emerging from the bewildering array of machines and equipment, holding a stack of printouts, paper tapes, and films, and brought them over to Lucricia. He placed the pile on the table, continuing to talk without looking up, “Yes, I know you're busy because Light Breeze Harbor is shrouded in a massive anomaly, and both you and your father are running around for it–appreciate the hustle, but we 'locals' should do something too, even if we haven't found a way to combat that 'Dreamscape' yet…”

Lucricia's expression finally turned serious; she temporarily forgot the displeasure of being interrupted at work and rushed out early in the morning. She approached the scholar's desk, looking at various records, “So, this is your effort to fight that 'Dreamscape'?”

“It's not just me trying; many departments, many colleagues, and other institutions in the city, the knowledge guards, and the peacekeepers, we're all looking for solutions–we might not be as powerful as your father, but a clumsy method is still a method… right, this part is my contribution.”

Taran El spoke, pulling out a long strip of paper tape from the pile of records and laying it in front of Lucricia.

“This is the record of my vital signs and sleep patterns from last night.”

Lucricia's expression shifted subtly as she took the paper tape from him, looking seriously at the jumping curves and a series of punched records–she noticed that this was some kind of automatic data output from a punch card recorder, which showed very distinct “gaps.”

“I spent the night in this lab,” Taran El gestured to a bed in the corner of the room, next to which could be seen a few odd-looking devices, apparently moved here hastily, with cables and tubes tangled messily together, “I made these things in the past, attempting to use them to improve my sleep efficiency, aiming to rest better in the shortest possible sleeping time… those electrodes could record my brain activity, those curves on the tape are it, the holes punched next to them are my breathing records, a round hole for an exhale, a square for an inhale…”

“There are two clear interruptions here,” Lucricia interrupted, “Judging from the timestamps on the edge of the paper tape, they occurred at nine o'clock last night and this morning, which is…”

“It was at the beginning and end of The Dream of the Nameless,” Taran El took the paper strip from Lucresia's hands, found the two breakpoints, and then lifted it in front of him, “At these two time points, my brain showed a clear 'gap' of activity, but that wasn't the most significant problem. The real issue lies in… what happened between these two breakpoints.”

He lifted the paper strip, which had a long record of sporadic curves and holes punched in it.

“There are still records,” he pointed to the section between last night at nine and this morning, “Do you see the problem, Miss Lucresia?”

“I bet you've recorded more than just these,” Lucresia quickly responded, “Where are the rest?”

“The most obvious is this.” Taran El didn't keep her in suspense; he turned around, took another stack of items from the table–black and white photographs.

Lucresia glanced at the stack and realized they were photos–the target of the shots was the bed in the corner of the laboratory.

The first few pictures showed Taran El lying in bed, with some featuring the grand scholar waving at the camera. But in the following photos, it was just an empty bed–with the electrodes that had been fixed on the scholar's head fallen onto the pillow.

“I set up three cameras, linked them to timers, and loading them with continuous film rolls. Every fifteen minutes, they would take a picture of my sleeping spot from three different angles,” Taran El explained, “Do you see? After nine o'clock, there was no one on the bed–because by then, The Dream of the Nameless had started, and I had vanished to 'the other side'…”

As the grand scholar spoke, he picked up the long paper strip again, found the middle part, and laid it out in front of “the Witch from the Sea.”

“So here comes the question, madam–between nine last night and five in the morning, during the time I had disappeared from the real world, whose brain activity was this machine recording?”

Lucresia inhaled softly, looking at the last photograph in her hand.

On the bed in the corner of the laboratory, devoid of any person, the electrodes meant to read brain activity lay motionlessly on the pillow, their metal surfaces catching the cold light in the camera's lens, as if in communication with invisible spirits in the silence of the city's night.

“But the problems don't end there. The Dream of the Nameless has brought us much confusion, with the odd data captured by the instruments being just a part of it,” Taran El's voice roused Lucresia from her thoughts as the grand scholar moved behind his desk, sat down, and slowly continued, “Another question is–where exactly do we go after entering the dream?”

“…What do you mean?”

“I listened to your description before. When The Dream of the Nameless occurred, you and your father's followers were swept into a peculiar Dreamscape, with vast forests just like the ones I encountered when originally trapped in a dream. But… I have no memory of this from last night.

“Since the last time I was trapped in the Dreamscape and you rescued me, I have never seen that forest in a dream again.

“It's not just me; everyone in this city disappears into the night whenever The Dream of the Nameless descends, but we don't wake up in the dream world like you did, nor do we become active within that mysterious forest–we close our eyes, and upon opening them, another normal day begins. If it weren't for you and your father's reminders, we wouldn't even be aware that anything had happened last night.

“So, where does everyone in this city go when night falls?”

Lucresia, of course, did not know the answer, and Taran El didn't expect her to provide one; he was merely thinking out loud, setting a goal for himself.

Sunlight pierced through the clouds, through the large tree outside the laboratory, weaving through its lush canopy and interwoven branches and leaves, casting mottled light onto the grand scholar's desk and the data recorded by the automatic equipment.

Lucresia slowly lifted her head, her gaze following the sunlight, looking out the window at the dappled tree shadows, then slowly widening her eyes.

“Master Taran El…”

“What is it, madam?”

“…Outside your laboratory, was there always such a tree?”

Chapter end

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