The ward fell silent once more.
Outside the window, the snow had stopped. The winter afternoon sunlight filtered through the glass of the ward, quietly resting at the foot of the bed. The fire in the coal stove burned slowly, crackling softly now and then, keeping the entire room warm and cozy.
Ryan leaned against the headboard, his fingers gently rubbing the frame of his glasses, but his mind had never left that grayish-white sea.
And that thing beneath the sea's surface, which had nearly caused his mind to completely collapse with just a single glance.
A long silence ensued.
He suddenly looked up.
“Alvin.”
“Yeah?”
“In the dream... are there many other places like Moth Port?”
Alvin's hands paused slightly as he organized his toolbox. He then looked up and cast a glance at Ryan.
“Why the sudden question?”
Ryan pondered for a moment.
“Moth Port primarily has only one aspect.”
“So I've been thinking.”
“Are there other similar places in the dream?”
“Are there ones closer to Lantern, or Winter, Grail, Forge...”
The ward fell silent for a few seconds.
Alvin did not answer immediately. Instead, he stood up and drew the curtains slightly. Only after the light in the room softened did he sit back down in his chair, looking at Ryan with a slow smile.
“There are.”
“But you'd better break a habit first.”
Ryan was slightly taken aback.
“What habit?”
“Stop calling them places.”
Alvin picked up the teacup from the table and gently blew away the steam rising from the surface.
There has always been an old saying among explorers:
“The dream has no map.”
“Anyone who tries to draw a map for the dream is either mad, dead, or brings back a scrap of paper that completely loses its meaning the very next day.”
He gently set down his teacup.
“Why is Moth Port called Moth Port?”
“It's not because there is always a port there.”
“It is because no matter if it becomes a city today, a wasteland tomorrow, or sinks completely into the sea the day after, its Secret Histories always lean toward Moth.”
“The outward appearance changes.”
“What truly remains unchanged is the Principle flowing within.”
Alvin looked up, meeting Ryan's gaze.
“Therefore, Moth Port is not a place.”
“It is more like an unbroken segment of Secret Histories, which just happens to wear the shell of a port.”
Ryan nodded thoughtfully.
Silence returned to the ward once more, save for the soft crackle of the burning stove.
After a moment.
He continued to ask:
“Then... are there many such places?”
Alvin smiled.
“No one knows.”
“No one who has truly walked through the dream dares to say they have seen it all.”
He leaned back slightly against his chair, gazing at the hearth fire. His tone sounded as though he were reminiscing about something from a long time ago.
“Some people only find one stable place in their entire lives, while others claim to have seen a dozen. But you should take such words with a grain of salt. The dream never proves anything to anyone, nor does it ever let two people see the exact same scene.”
As he spoke, he casually picked up the medical chart from the table and flipped it open in front of Ryan.
“You sit there.”
“I sit here.”
“What you see is this page.”
“What I see is another page.”
“Yet, the book is still the same book.”
Alvin closed the medical chart again.
“The stable places in the dream are the same. They do not deceive anyone; it is just that the part each person can comprehend is different. Thus, no one's description can be fully believed, and no one's description is entirely wrong.”
Ryan knit his brows slightly.
Alvin continued:
“Among explorers, there are many names for these places.”
“Some call them ruins.”
“Some call them ferries.”
“And others call them anchors.”
“The names are different.”
“But the meaning is much the same.”
“They are all among the very few places in the dream that can be repeatedly reached. However, this reachability is never fixed. Just because you can find it today does not mean you can find it tomorrow. If you enter from here today, the next time you wake up, you might find yourself standing in an entirely unfamiliar dream.”
He stopped here.
Suddenly, he paused.
“However, there is one point on which everyone agrees.”
Ryan looked up.
“What is it?”
“These places are all related to a particularly dense segment of Secret Histories.”
“As for whether they are traces left behind by some great being...”
Alvin shook his head.
“No one dares to be certain.”
“And no one wishes to be certain.”
“Because some names, once spoken, are already a response to them.”
Ryan did not press further about those names.
He simply remained silent for a moment.
Then, he said in a low voice:
“What about the Wood?”
“Isn't it said that those who truly want to move forward must eventually enter the Wood?”
“What is the difference between it and these stable places?”
Hearing this question, Alvin suddenly laughed.
“The difference is huge.”
He picked up his fountain pen again and drew several circles on the medical chart.
“You ran off too quickly last time, so I didn't explain it in detail. Let me tell you more about it today.”
“Let's assume.”
“This is Moth Port.”
The pen moved slightly.
Several other circles of different sizes appeared beside it.
“Here is another stable place.”
“Here.”
“And here.”
After drawing them, Alvin did not stop. Instead, he used his pen to slowly shade the entire paper.
Those circles were soon completely connected.
He pushed the medical chart in front of Ryan.
“Now.”
“This is the Wood.”
Ryan looked down at the marks on the paper.
He said nothing.
Alvin slowly said:
“Stable places are like stones protruding from the water.”
“But the Wood does not belong to any single stone.”
“It is more like the intertwined roots beneath the stones.”
“Any stable place can lead to the Wood, and the Wood, in turn, can send you to another completely unfamiliar place. That is why there has always been a saying among explorers.”
He paused.
Then he said softly:
“All roads eventually lead into the Wood.”
“But don't be fooled by its name.”
“It is not necessarily a forest.”
“I've told you before, the Wood has no fixed appearance.”
“It will only present itself in a way that you can comprehend.”
The stove fire flickered gently.
Alvin gazed at the flames, his voice gradually lowering.
“Stable places can be explored repeatedly.”
“But the Wood can only be delved deeper and deeper into.”
“Because there is no direction there, no distance, and no true end.”
“Some feel they have walked for only a minute.”
“Upon their return, a year has passed in reality.”
“Some keep walking forward.”
“In the end, they find themselves standing at the entrance once more.”
“And even more people never return at all.”
He slowly closed the medical chart.
He looked up at Ryan.
“So, the stable places in the dream will teach you knowledge.”
“But the Wood will not.”
“It will only change you, bit by bit.”
“When the day comes that you finally cross that door, you will realize that what truly completes your ascension was never how much of your own aspect you learned, but... that the Wood has quietly taken something from you.”
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