Chapter 815: Chapter 812: Sand and Fire

The fragmented memories thunderously reshaped themselves; the distorted cognition realigned in an instant as if the entire world reverted with a breath. Fenna heard an ethereal roar deep within her consciousness–in this roaring, she once again became aware of her “self”.

The sky full of yellow sand was being battered by an invisible force, swirling and dispersing in the wind. Streams of black smoke emerged from nowhere, reintegrating into Fenna’s body. She remembered her name, her origins, and how she came to be here. She recalled the affairs of the Homeloss and her own captain.

She turned around and saw a tall, majestic figure standing beside her, silently watching her, as if it had been there for a very long time.

Fenna finally took a long breath. After a brief moment of disorientation and confusion, she calmed herself down and began to speak softly as if to herself: “I feel like I’ve had a very long dream–what a long journey it has been.”

“Fortunately, you did not completely lose yourself,” Duncan revealed a slight smile, “For a moment, deep within the burnt history, I almost couldn’t see your shadow.”

Fenna felt a tinge of fright but quickly cast the emotion aside. She looked around and realized that the boundless desert and the ruined cities within had not disappeared with her “awakening”.

Everything here was not an “illusion” designed just for her but rather something that truly existed at this “node,” akin to a type of “anomaly.” It is the Dreamscape of the Eternal Ember, a “reality” on another level–she merely awoke within the dream of an ancient god but has not yet left the vast Dreamscape.

However, as she gained awareness, changes occurred here–the bustling city that was about to become visible in her perception receded into the shadows; the phantoms and sounds of the streets had utterly vanished. Now, within the quiet city, amidst a silent wasteland of ruins, only the floating lights still illuminated the broken walls without a sound.

“Burnt history…” she couldn’t help but repeat the words of her captain softly, finally understanding the nature of this desert. Then she remembered her experiences: “But I saw many things here–the coronation of the Frost Queen, a gathering during the great archaeological discovery period of the old City-State era, and the wanted notice by the Mist Fleet. Those must be parts that weren’t ‘burnt’.”

Hearing Fenna’s words, Duncan calmly uttered, “… A lingering warmth remains.”

Fenna’s expression shifted subtly as her gaze grew solemn. She remembered the faint scarlet glows among the warm ashes she had seen upon setting foot on Ashen Isle, as well as the smoke rising in the distance.

“What about the others?” She shook her head, pushing down the intense unease in her heart for the moment, and asked.

“They have temporarily retreated back to the ship,” Duncan replied casually, “The situation at this ‘node’ has changed from before. Perhaps it’s because of Tarrikin’s dire situation, or maybe it’s the particular nature of ‘history’ itself as an authority, this ash is too dangerous… I came alone to find you.”

“I caused you concern,” Fenna exhaled, her tone carrying a hint of apology.

“Never mind that,” Duncan waved his hand, “Let’s talk about your experiences. Can you still remember them? How much do you understand about this ‘desert’ now?”

Fenna quickly sorted out her emotions and thoughts. She knew that the captain had not finished what he had to do here, so she immediately recounted in detail the experiences she still remembered in this boundless desert sea–including the voices that had once appeared by her ear, the ruins she encountered along the way, and the “ding ding ding” sound that always surfaced when the wind and sand rose.

Actually, she could no longer clearly recall the first half of her “journey.” When she first fell into this boundless desert, her mind had been in a muddled state for a long time, but she still remembered that feeling–

“Forgetting and blindness are my strongest impressions of the first half of the journey and it seemed that this feeling was an ‘impression’ that I had deliberately enforced on my subconscious at that time. I must have realized the changes happening to me but was unable to resist them, so I could only forcibly remember this feeling, hoping to remind myself of the existence of ‘forgetting’ afterwards…”

“All of my clearer memories of the ‘journey’ began after I had forgotten my own name and origin. It was also after that I began to see those lost ruins in the desert more frequently, and later on, started hearing those voices.

“This was a process of gradually ‘integrating,’ and the most dangerous part of this process is… it had no malice at all, everything was like the breeze and the sunshine, inconspicuously corroding my mind until, by the time I realized it, I could no longer leave this city.”

Having said this, Fenna couldn’t help but let out a sigh. The memories of her previous descent into confusion and loss still frightened her–And then, she remembered something else.

“Right, before I remembered the Homeloss, I met someone–a ‘person’ who, like me, did not belong here,” she hurriedly said, “He said his name was ‘Puman’.”

“Puman?” Duncan’s expression changed slightly, “The famous ‘mad poet’?”

“Yes, I was in a daze at the time and didn’t realize his identity, but now that I have regained my memory, I can be certain that he is the same ‘mad poet’ recorded in history,” Fenna nodded affirmatively, “He looked just like he was described in the books, and he was highly tense yet very polite, asking people around about this place as if looking for a way to leave.”

Duncan pondered, “Could it be another ‘shadow’ in this desert?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Fenna shook her head, “He once took physical form before my eyes, saying he had fallen into a Dreamscape again, and he mentioned that in reality, he was being confined in a basement, ‘guarded by people in long robes’ who patrolled his ‘cage’. I feel… he entered here by mistake.”

“Mistakenly entered the Dreamscape of an ancient god at the end of the world?” Duncan’s eyebrows involuntarily rose, “Even for the legendary ‘mad poet’, this seems a bit far-fetched…”

He muttered, then thoughtfully added, “The things you describe sound like church facilities used to contain individuals with innate Spiritual Energy, something the Frost Queen Lei Nora has mentioned before.”

“The Frost Queen… Yes, that’s it,” Fenna responded instantly, also adding another detail, “Puman even mentioned the Frost Queen, although he didn’t explicitly say the name, but he must have been referring to the Frost Queen–a person who appeared many years after his death, also confined in a cage…”

Listening to Fenna’s account, Duncan’s brows deeply furrowed, and many conjectures about the famous “mad poet” emerged, but soon, a sudden gust of cold wind howled through the night sky, forcing him to suppress these restless thoughts.

The wind reminded him there were more pressing matters at hand.

“We can discuss the matter of the ‘Mad Poet’ after we get back. Maurice and Lucia are the real scholars on this; they should be more professional than us,” Duncan said solemnly, “But right now, the priority is to find Tarrikin and figure out how to get you out of here safely.”

And just at that moment, just as Duncan’s words fell, a distant sound emerged from the depths of the cold wind, faint and intermittent, like the clinking of metal against stone—-

“Ding… ding ding…”

“It’s that sound!” Fenna instantly reacted, immediately turning her head towards Duncan, “The ding ding sound I’ve been hearing along the way, whenever it rings out, it seems to cause some changes in the desert, either new ruins appear, or those voices are heard… ”

She abruptly stopped.

The ding sound continued, and then, Fenna suddenly realized something.

The sound no longer seemed to come from all directions; this time, she could pinpoint the direction of the tapping noise.

After a brief moment of astonishment and judgement, she and the captain almost simultaneously raised their hands, pointing deep into the city, in unison: “…It’s over there!”

The sound was very distant, but the direction was unmistakably clear.

The two of them headed towards the source of the sound without hesitation.

And that sound never ceased; it seemed to deliberately guide them, the clinking of ding ding ding echoing non-stop from the depths of the city, growing clearer as time passed.

On the way, Fenna suddenly recalled the words of the “Mad Poet” before he vanished —

This city is infinite; outside the city is the desert, and outside the desert is the city… walking outwards, you can never leave this place.

Walking outwards doesn’t allow escape — therefore, one must walk inwards.

The “infinity” of history is a kind of counter-intuitive “one-way infinity”!

Whether to find an exit to leave this place, or to seek that ancient god who presides over history, one must walk inwards!

She finally understood this and immediately shared her findings with the captain beside her, and after hearing her, Duncan simply nodded gravely, then raised his hand towards the surroundings.

“The city is disappearing.”

Fenna was taken aback and looked around.

The city was vanishing with the wind.

The crumbling and sagging pillars were disintegrating at a visible rate, sand showering down from between the high walls and towers. The process started slowly at first, but almost in the blink of an eye, it turned into an astonishing collapse — sand flowed like a waterfall from every high point of the city, the broken walls covered by dust, becoming part of the sand in the next second.

Just a few breaths later, the entire city vanished from her sight, as if its previous existence had been nothing but an illusion.

Now in front of her eyes was only the boundless sea of sand again.

And that voice, which was now within arm’s reach —

Ding… ding ding…

She raised her head, seeing a small fire under the cover of night.

Just like the small fire she had seen in another dream where there was only a sea of sand.

And the giant, whom she had also seen in another dream and even traveled with, that ancient yet towering figure, sat beside the fire that seemed as if it would be extinguished by the cold wind at any moment. Bowing his head, he tapped with the stone and chisel in his hands, carving into the sand beneath…

Ding… ding ding…