初次尝了销魂少妇

Panicking, Heidi quickly voiced out her identity in hopes of clearing the air. “Please, ma’am, you’ve mistaken me. I’m a devout follower of the God of Wisdom, Lahem. I’m merely a simple psychiatrist, not affiliated with anything you might assume.”

Lucretia, however, didn’t seem immediately convinced. Her attention seemed anchored to a seemingly unobtrusive piece of jewelry that rested against Heidi’s chest — an amethyst pendant. Its gentle glow was enough to make anyone believe it was merely ornamental, but to the trained eye, it radiated a very distinct energy signature, one Lucretia knew all too well.

It was an energy she would recognize anywhere, akin to her father’s very essence. The pendant felt like an extension of his gaze, silently observing, judging perhaps.

She inquired pointedly, “That pendant you wear, where did it come from?”

Caught off guard, Heidi replied almost reflexively, “My father gifted it to me. He found it in an antique shop. It’s just a pendant, said to offer spiritual protection.”

The name of the shop piqued Lucretia’s interest further, and she prompted, “And your father would be?”

Taran El, witnessing the unfolding tension, decided to intervene. “She’s Morris Underwood’s daughter,” he provided helpfully, hoping to assuage any further suspicions. “And she truly is just a psychiatrist. She’s been trying to help me break free from this illusory confinement.”

Lucretia’s demeanor shifted noticeably upon hearing this revelation. The name Morris Underwood wasn’t just any name for her. She recalled her last interaction with the crew of the ship “Vanished”, and amongst them was a revered academic, now assisting her father in his quest for knowledge.

She mused at the serendipity of it all.

Gone was the chill in her gaze, replaced by a genuine warmth. She addressed Heidi kindly, “Greetings, Miss Heidi.”

Dumbfounded by the dramatic turn of events, Heidi managed a meek response, “Hi… So, you’re acquainted with my father and Master Taran El?”

Lucretia chose to reply cryptically, “The world has its way of intertwining destinies.” She then redirected her attention to the elf scholar, “Taran El, in your perception, how long have you been ensnared in this dreamlike state?”

Taran El mumbled in a haze of confusion, “I genuinely cannot put a finger on it. Since entering this state, my sense of time has been distorted. It might have been mere days, or possibly even longer since I felt the sun’s warmth on my skin.”

Lucretia studied him intently, her brow creasing with concern. “From the cognitive dissonance you’re displaying, it’s evident this dream state is growing treacherous for your mind. Have you attempted the various traditional techniques to wake up, perhaps even the ‘falling method’?”

Shrugging in resignation, Taran El responded, “Indeed, I’ve exhausted every method I know of. The only one I haven’t dared try is the ‘sudden death’ method.”

Lucretia elaborated with a hint of urgency, “If the conventional dream-disrupting techniques have failed, then most alternative methods would likely prove futile. This isn’t any ordinary dream you’re ensnared in, nor is it a result of an external hex or psychic assault.” She waved her hand as if dispelling any such theories. “I’ve already inspected your physical condition outside of this realm and ensured a safe environment in the lab to shield against mental invasions. We can eliminate those possibilities. Miss Heidi, could you provide all the data you’ve gathered?”

Caught slightly off-guard by Lucretia’s sudden address, Heidi took a moment to collect herself. She swiftly launched into a comprehensive recount of the events leading up to her presence there, including her invitation to the town hall in Pland. The gravity of the situation compelled her to be thorough, leaving no stone unturned.

As Lucretia attentively absorbed Heidi’s account, her facial expressions shifted dynamically — a dance of realization, surprise, and concern.

Drawing upon Heidi’s narrative, Lucretia pieced together, “Moving from a dream in Pland to entering Taran El’s peculiar dreamscape is no trivial matter. Notably, the point of entry from Pland has now ceased to exist.” Her eyes met Heidi’s with grave intensity, “Without precise navigation, even an adept mind like yours might find itself ensnared indefinitely within this maze.”

Resignedly, Taran El, the one ensnared in this enigma, queried, “With both of you putting heads together, have you discerned anything about this mysterious dreamscape I’m trapped in?”

Lucretia, ever the pragmatist, didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she posed a crucial question, “Before diving into speculations, I must ascertain one thing. Your draft in the tower hinted you were on the cusp of sending a crucial message to the academy. Were you ambushed in the tower? Or perhaps, did you witness something peculiar whilst observing the sun?”

Lost in thought, Taran El hesitated, “I wasn’t subjected to any ambush. My memories paint a vivid image of me utilizing the tower’s instruments when I discerned an array of nebulous shadows and lines within the sun. Despite my attempts, their chaotic dance eluded clarity. I jotted down a rudimentary sketch, and then…”

A sense of deepening confusion marred his expression. The closer he inched to the memory preceding his descent into the dream, the murkier and more elusive it became.

Taran El came to a jarring halt as if his mind hit an invisible wall within the memories. His eyes had a stark emptiness, a look of profound confusion and bewilderment. He shifted his gaze from Heidi to Lucretia and then cast a sweeping glance around the otherworldly forest that enveloped them. The vibrant canopy above, the dense underbrush below, and the soft chirping of unseen creatures gave a surreal backdrop to his current state.

And then, in a blink, his animation vanished entirely. He seemed to be in suspended animation, devoid of even the faintest sign of life. Every minute aspect of him, down to the finest hair on his skin and the faintest flutter of his eyelashes, ceased all movement. The ambiance around him seemed to mirror his stillness, with the gentle whisper of the wind failing to rustle his robe or disturb a single strand of his hair.

Before their very eyes, Taran El had transformed into a lifeless, static effigy, caught in the intricate webs of this dream.

The very fabric of the dream seemed to respond to this stasis. An eerie, deep tremor resonated through the forest as though the very core of this realm was collapsing in on itself. Majestic trees that once stood tall and proud began to fade, their colors seeping out as they crumbled from the top down. The rich, verdant ground cover started disintegrating, transforming into wisp-like trails of smoke that vanished into the ether.

Witnessing this surreal and jarring spectacle, Heidi, eyes wide in disbelief, swiftly pivoted towards Lucretia. “Is this… a ‘veil’? Is this not a true dream? It’s like a protective layer!” she stammered.

Lucretia, though calm, looked intently at the scene before responding, “Impressive deduction, Miss Heidi. This isn’t an authentic dream layer, but a safeguard, a ‘veil’, masking the true dream beneath. This version of Taran El we’ve been interacting with is merely a construct of his mind, a defensive mechanism. Waking him up from this layer won’t do — the true essence of the dream, and Taran El, is buried deeper.”

Baffled, Heidi pressed on, “But how can this be? This protective layer, this ‘veil’, is too real, too intricate. I’ve never witnessed anything like it.”

Lucretia nodded gravely, “Nor have I. Given Taran El’s expertise, or lack thereof, in dream manipulation, he shouldn’t have the capability to craft such a meticulous barrier. However, the intricacy of this ‘veil’ indicates that something significant, possibly dangerous, is being shielded deep within the dream. If this truly is Taran El’s handiwork, he must’ve encountered something profoundly menacing upon venturing into this dream.”

As she articulated her thoughts, the rapid disintegration of the forest abruptly began to decelerate. And then, astonishingly, the process began reversing. Trees that crumbled moments ago started reforming, the vanished hues surging back with newfound vitality. The once disintegrating ‘veil’ was now reforming at an alarming pace.

“Heidi, the ‘veil’ is mending itself!” Lucretia exclaimed.

Yet, amidst this regrowth and regeneration, the effigy of Taran El remained inert, giving no inkling of returning consciousness.

The mysterious and puzzling nature of the dream took a startling turn as the protective layer was regenerated. But what made Lucretia’s heart race was the realization that this protective “veil” was not an extension of Taran El’s will. Instead, it was woven by a separate, hidden entity, diligently guarding the innermost secrets of this dream realm.

The more she pondered upon it, the clearer it became. There were at least three participants in this dreamscape: Heidi’s described “elf girl,” the esteemed scholar Taran El, and a covert third presence. This enigmatic presence was not merely a passive observer, but the orchestrator of this mirage-like dream layer.

Moreover, the malign force that had driven this shroud of deception was still lurking, watching. The very fact that the dream’s veil could regenerate in such an astonishing manner implied the presence of a vast and immensely powerful entity.

It wasn’t the mental constructs that Heidi had earlier expelled or even the intruders that Taran El confronted that warranted the imposition of such a formidable dream seal.

Finally, the haze of understanding also settled in Heidi’s mind. “There’s a lingering presence in here, Lucretia! The source of this invasion is still among us,” she voiced out, her eyes darting about cautiously.

“Stay vigilant, observe every minute detail!” Lucretia promptly instructed, her eyes darting from one shadow to the next, taking in every sound, every sensation, seeking out the malicious puppeteer hidden amongst the folds of the dream.

The serenity of the forest was baffling. Everything seemed as it should be because of the fragrance of the flowers, the melody of the breezes caressing the trees, the distant gurgle of running water, and the warm sunlight filtering in.

However, an eerie realization struck Lucretia. Amidst the impenetrable canopy of trees, a consistent beam of sunlight still bathed the entire forest floor. It was incongruous; the thick foliage should have rendered the forest floor in shadows.

“The sunlight… That’s it! The sunlight is the intruder’s guise!” A rush of adrenaline surged through Lucretia as she pieced the puzzle together, alerting Heidi immediately.

Acting on Lucretia’s words, Heidi instinctively tilted her head upwards, seeking out the sun that painted this dreamscape. A startling sight met her eyes. Through the intermittent gaps in the canopy, she caught a glimpse of the sky beyond.

And what she saw was the stuff of nightmares – gigantic tendrils, grotesquely twisted and intertwined, culminated in a colossal sphere. Countless enormous, eerily pale eyes stared down at them, each observing and calculating. Unlike anything they had ever seen, a behemoth of a creature floated silently above, its monstrous presence cleverly veiled by the all-encompassing, benign sunlight.