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“Regardless of the circumstances,” he began, “I stand firm in my belief of the authenticity of your words.”

Heidi’s face portrayed sheer astonishment.

“That ‘golden spike’ you wield,” Taran El noted with an amused grin, “is marked with a distinctive emblem.” He gestured toward the dual-purpose object in her grip that served both as a weapon and a medical instrument. “Even in this fantastical dream state, you’ve faithfully replicated that emblem, which speaks volumes about its significance to you. Young Miss Heidi, your achievements at the Academy of Truth haven’t gone unnoticed. Only a select ten are bestowed with these emblems annually, marking them as the crème de la crème of apprentices. These chosen ones then decide where to inscribe this honor.”

Following the trajectory of Taran’s pointed finger, Heidi’s eyes settled on the base of the spike’s handle where an intricate design stood out — the “Eye of Wisdom” encircled by shimmering points of light.

To the average observer, this design might be mistaken for the widely recognized symbol associated with the god of wisdom. However, only those intimately acquainted with the Academy of Truth’s myriad symbols could discern the nuanced differences separating this particular emblem from the generic “Eye of Wisdom.”

It was at that instant that clarity struck Heidi. With renewed interest, she stared at the elven scholar who had identified himself as “Taran El.” Flashes of disjointed memories gradually started to merge into a cohesive narrative: An elf from the esteemed Academy of Truth, bearing the time-honored “El” surname, acclaimed for his groundbreaking insights on the solar facade during the blackout of Vision 001…

With widening eyes and a voice tinged with disbelief, Heidi exclaimed, “Taran El… Could you possibly be the renowned Mr. Taran El from Wind Harbor? The reputed beacon of cutting-edge and arcane knowledge?”

Chuckling, Taran El responded, “I’d merely describe myself as a diligent scholar.” He waved off the compliment, clearly flattered by her recognition. However, his face soon adopted a puzzled expression, “I’m curious. How did someone like you, a human residing in distant lands, come to learn about me?”

“My father often spoke of you,” Heidi responded promptly, “His stories about you were a staple of my childhood.”

“Your father?” A crease of confusion marred Taran El’s brow.

“He is Morris Underwood,” Heidi proudly declared. “In his youthful days, he pursued his studies at the Academy of Truth’s central campus and also resided for a while in Wind Harbor…”

When the name “Morris Underwood” reached Taran El’s ears, a distant memory seemed to echo in his mind. As Heidi continued to elucidate, the fog of his memory cleared. With a spark of recognition, he exclaimed, “Ah, yes! Morris! A truly brilliant young man of his time… You are his offspring?!”

With evident surprise, the elf scholar surveyed Heidi from head to toe, eyes widening in marvel. “He took on the responsibilities of marriage and fatherhood quite early in life, did he not?”

Caught off-guard, Heidi’s complexion adopted a rather peculiar hue as she hesitated, then clarified, “Actually, my father was nearing forty when I was born. By human standards, that’s somewhat on the later side…”

The numeral ‘four’ caused Taran El’s jaw to drop slightly. With a mild slap to his forehead, he chortled, “Ah, right. I momentarily forgot to adjust for human lifespans. My apologies, I sometimes lose track of such nuances.”

A faint, awkward smile was all Heidi could muster, realizing that this elf, so revered by her father, had a whimsically forgetful side to him.

A brief pause ensued. Unable to quell his innate curiosity, Taran El inquired, “In what context did your father speak of me?”

Without much forethought, Heidi quipped, “He used to say it was rather impressive for an elf to suffer from cervical spondylosis and shoulder periarthritis due to sheer overwork…”

An almost comedic silence fell between them.

Taran El: “…”

Heidi: “…”

“Please, no need for apologies,” Taran El swiftly interjected, reading the palpable embarrassment on Heidi’s face. He seemed well-acquainted with such peculiar remarks. “Let’s refocus our energies, Miss Heidi. I’d appreciate your expertise in helping me extricate from this perplexing dream.”

Gratefully, Heidi seized upon his prompt change of topic, mentally steadying herself to ruminate on potential solutions.

However, before she could deeply ponder or articulate her thoughts, Taran El cautioned, “Before you dive deep, Miss Heidi, let me pre-emptively inform you — I’ve already experimented with the sensation of falling, tried suffocating myself, engaged in self-interrogation, and even attempted reverse hypnosis. Alas, none bore fruit. Instead, they rendered me even more lucid within this dream, yet wholly incapable of waking.”

A visible jolt of surprise registered on Heidi’s face. “Becoming more conscious within a dream?”

Taran El nodded gravely, “Indeed. This heightened lucidity post a ‘dream entrapment’ episode is perilous. My intensifying awareness of being trapped in a dream and the inability to awaken suggest the dream’s inherent construct overrides my logical mind. My subconscious now doesn’t yearn for wakefulness. In fact, it’s eerily convinced I’m already awake.”

“Did you consider invoking the deity Lahem?”

Taran El’s response was a wry smile. “What do you presume?”

Heidi started, her tone shifting from light to gravely serious, “You’ve become so deeply immersed in this dream that it’s almost as if you’re opening up to Lahem’s shield. You’re not just dreaming; you’re experiencing a level of consciousness where you’re ‘awake’ inside the dream. This is uncharted territory, and traditional methods of guidance might not be effective.”

Taran El, trying to find a way out, gestured to the golden spike Heidi was holding. “What if you try using that spike on me again? Maybe, just maybe, by giving my subconscious a jolt — simulating a near-death experience — I might be able to use the ‘sudden death’ method to pull myself back to reality.”

Heidi’s eyes widened in apprehension. She hesitated, processing the gravity of what Taran El was suggesting, then firmly replied, “That’s too risky…”

Before she could elaborate, an unexpected and somewhat weary female voice chimed in from an unknown origin, “I must agree. That’s quite a dangerous idea, young one.”

Startled by the sudden intrusion, Heidi’s grip on the golden spike tightened as she searched for the source of the voice. But then, almost magically, colorful fragments of paper began showering down like vibrant snowflakes. From this mesmerizing spectacle, an elegant, enigmatic woman materialized.

Heidi’s instincts kicked in, and she immediately adopted a defensive posture. Yet, the mysterious woman paid her no mind, heading straight for Taran El. “Master El,” she admonished, “you should know better than to entertain such a dangerous idea. Given your current state of health, a poke from that spike might not just jolt you awake — it could very well end your life in the real world.”

Taran El’s face brightened with recognition. “Lady Lucretia!” he exclaimed, his relief palpable. “You’ve come to my aid. It seems my apprentices might have made a mistake in bringing a psychiatrist, but they made up for it by summoning a much more potent ally — the famed Sea Witch.”

With a dismissive wave, Lucretia responded, “I had your apprentices send away the psychiatrist they originally located. That person wouldn’t have been of any use. Right now, you’re in my domain, my laboratory.”

Heidi tried to make sense of what she was witnessing. It was clear Taran El knew this enigmatic woman, which was unexpected in itself. But when she heard the name ‘Lucretia’, she felt a chill run down her spine. While there might be countless women with that name, only one was ever referred to as the “Sea Witch”.

Overwhelmed by this revelation and struggling with a mixture of fear and awe, Heidi finally found her voice, albeit shaky, “Are you… the…”

Lucretia chuckled, clearly amused by Heidi’s reaction. “Relax, young one. Despite the tales, we ‘witches’ don’t feast on humans. It’s rather intriguing to find another visitor in Master Taran El’s dream. Things are quite animated for such a dire situation, aren’t they?”

Lucretia’s initial words were accompanied by a charming, almost infectious smile. But as the seconds ticked by, that genuine warmth, the kind that reaches the eyes and reassures the soul, started to wane. While her eyes continued to twinkle with mirth, there was a perceptible change in them — a distant chill that mirrored the stark frost of a winter’s morning began to rise from the depths of her gaze.

“And who might you be, stranger in our midst?” Her voice, once gentle, now carried an undercurrent of intrigue.

Being engrossed in the immediate situation, Heidi failed to notice the slight transformation in Lucretia’s demeanor.

Yet, in the pit of her stomach, a familiar, uncanny sensation stirred, putting her on edge. It was her intuition, a gift refined from her years of honing her spiritual abilities, and it was screaming warnings at her. She felt an intrusive force probing her, analyzing her essence and evaluating her presence in the dream as an impurity.

The weight of this realization bore down on Heidi. She instinctively tried to muster her spiritual defenses, but to her horror, she found herself severed from her metaphysical abilities. Once an extension of her very being, the golden spike felt alien in her grasp. A whirlwind of anxiety threatened to consume her, but she forced herself to stay grounded, focusing on the present. She blurted out, trying to explain herself, “My name is Heidi. I’m a psychiatrist. I didn’t mean to intrude on Mr. Taran El’s dream. The true intruders are others. In fact, Mr. Taran El has already dealt with a number of them…”

Before she could finish her hurried explanation, the suffocating pressure that had wrapped itself around her spiritual senses abruptly lifted.

Drawing a breath of relief, Heidi felt a new wave of confusion wash over her. She hadn’t even completed her sentence when the lady’s gaze darted downward, and she noticed the crystal pendant on her chest emitting a gentle warmth. Holding it, she looked up at Lucretia, her eyes filled with questions.

Lucretia’s face contorted into a thoughtful frown. “Are you associated with my father?” she inquired, her voice laced with suspicion and curiosity.