Chapter 585: A Trance Without Dreams

Chapter 585: A Trance Without Dreams

In the end, Luni was also convinced by Alice to accept the flame mark bestowed by the captain.

From that moment, every inhabitant of the Witchs Mansion, aside from the simpler, less sentient iron and wooden puppets, bore the captains ghost flame mark as a rite of passage before entering their dream states.

As dinner approached, the large dining room was bathed in the combined glow of bright electric lights and gas lamps affixed to the walls. The members of the Vanished Fleet congregated around a lengthy dining table, partaking in a communal meal of fish, bread, and wine. This ritual meal was their way of bracing for the night ahead, known for its depth and unpredictability.

The subtle presence of green flames in their eyes lent an otherworldly quality to their gazes, blurring the lines between reality and illusion. Their discussions were briefly infused with a trace of the captains mystical energy, manifesting as a low, humming vibration that filled the room. This same eerie green light also tinged the gas lamps, casting a spectral glow on the walls and floors, giving them an ethereal, almost haunted appearance as though the room were under the spell of phantoms.

To an outsider unknowing of these peculiarities, stumbling upon this scene would be overwhelming; the atmosphere, charged with power and mystery, could easily unsettle the mind, challenging ones grasp on sanity and self-awareness.

Luni, the automaton, took it upon herself to light the decorative candelabras, adding a flickering, warm light that danced over the silverware and ceramic tableware, creating a cozy yet mystic ambiance.

The conversation at the table veered into the realm of the arcane and the ancient. Morris and Lucretia engaged in a deep discussion about elf society lore, their conversation laden with complex jargon that would baffle the uninitiated. Shirley, ever the pragmatic one, focused on her meal, always the first to satisfy her hunger. Vanna, the groups spiritual anchor, paused to offer a prayer before eating, demonstrating her unwavering devotion by observing sacred rituals at any given opportunity. Nina, after sampling a bit of her meal, quietly eyed the grape wine a short distance away, expressing a desire.

I wish to taste fermented grape juice she said, voicing her request to her uncle.

Duncan cast a glance at her, a hint of amusement in his raised eyebrows, Or perhaps you meant to ask for wheat berry juice?

Ninas face brightened at the suggestion, her hand reaching for the beer on the other side. Really?

Duncan returned her enthusiasm with a stoic look. What do you think?

Realizing the jest, Nina let out a soft Oh and, accepting the reality, opted for the lemon water instead, a tinge of disappointment in her demeanor.

As the mechanical clock echoed in the distance, its hands steadily advancing, dinner was drawing to a close. It was then that Duncan shattered the prevailing silence with a contemplative statement: Actually, Ive been mulling over something.

Vanna, intrigued, looked up from her meal, placing her utensils down gently. Whats been on your mind? she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

Duncan, adopting a grave tone, shared his thoughts. Ive been wondering about the Nether Lords perspective towards His followers. He advised me to seize a few Annihilators to forge a bond with the abyssal deep sea. It seems as though Hes indifferent, yet He retains His sanity and appears deeply concerned about our world. Dont you find that paradoxical?

Morris, who had been quietly listening, dabbed at his mouth before responding thoughtfully, To me, it seems perfectly logical. Given the Nether Lords rational nature, His advice appears even more sound.

Duncan looked intrigued by this perspective. Oh?

Morris continued, Prior to your successful outreach to that ancient deity, there was no real communication between the Nether Lord and our realm. Essentially, the so-called Annihilators were engaging in a one-sided faith, drawing power through this unreciprocated belief.

Alice, puzzled, chimed in with a Huh?

Duncan shared his realization. It appears that the Dream of the Nameless One selectively affects beings that are capable of dreaming. You, being puppets, dont dream in the conventional senseor rather, your experiences during sleep dont align with what humans typically define as dreams.

He carefully added this clarification, recalling Alices earlier accounts of her own dream-like states, which, though reminiscent of dreams, were markedly different from human experiences. These puppet dreams, or trances, evidently do not qualify for the vision known as the Dream of the Nameless One.

Alice, processing Duncans explanation, seemed to have a moment of clarity. Her eyes widened as a thought struck her. Then captain, why are you also remaining here with us? Dont you dream either?

Duncan began to answer reflexively, I, of course But then he hesitated, his expression turning contemplative.

Do I truly dream in this world?

The question lingered, challenging his understanding of dreams as the intertwining of reality and memory, the very essence of what it means to dream in the human sense.

As though activating a long-neglected function within his psyche, Duncan suddenly became acutely aware of a part of his subconscious that he had previously overlooked. For the first time, he confronted a question he hadnt considered before. His mind raced, replaying every instance of slumber in this world, delving into the nature of his dreams.

He realized he had indeed dreamed. He had navigated through dreamt subspaces, witnessed apocalyptic foresights, observed the extinguishing of the sun, and seen voids and luminous entities descend from the heavens in his dreams.

Yet, beyond these supernatural visions, he struggled to recall any mundane dreams. His physical form in this realm seldom required rest, and the act of laying in bed had become more a ritual to preserve his connection to humanity than a necessity.

Yes, he had experienced dreams, albeit infrequently. However

Duncan abruptly clasped his forehead, a gesture of intense contemplation.

No, dreams should encompass more than these experiences. Where were the ordinary dreams? The daily reflections that manifested in sleep? The beautiful, the mundane, the amusing, the nostalgicall those quintessentially human dreams?

He tried to summon any memory of such dreams but found that all his nocturnal visions were either gateways to other dimensions or prophetic glimpses beyond the ordinary fabric of time and space. Beyond these, his nights were void of content.

And it wasnt just in this world.

His thoughts traced back further.

He thought back to Zhou Ming, to the days before the fog, before the isolation of his bachelor apartment, back to a time that now felt like another life entirelya time when everything was still normal, before the world had succumbed to an enveloping mist.

Confused, Zhou MingDuncanpondered.

Had he ever truly dreamed like an ordinary person?NewW novels updates at novelhall.com