Deep Sea Embers

“This location has been safe for quite some time now,” Nemo Wilkins started as he ushered Duncan and the rest of the group into the concealed underground space. “You see, for over half a century, the authorities of Frost have remained oblivious to the secret that lies hidden beneath their city,” he shared with a tone rich in self-satisfaction, pausing for the information to sink in among his listeners.

“These are no ordinary tunnels. These are ancient sewage systems that spread beneath the city like veins, many of which have been long abandoned. They’re dry and pose no danger,” he explained, strolling about the spacious area. “There are connections here that link to the surface sewage system, but rest assured, all are secure. Even if someone were to discover one or two of these connections, City Hall lacks the manpower to perform an exhaustive search of this vast subterranean network.”

As he spoke, Wilkins, who also went by the moniker of ‘pub owner,’ meandered towards a looming cement wall, twisted a valve fixed onto one of the pipes. A soft hissing sound echoed from a distance, triggering more gas lamps to ignite, their radiance enhancing the previously illuminated ones.

“What truly fascinates me is the resilience of modern-day Frost to sustain the city’s basic functions,” he noted with a sly grin, his thin face elongated with a hint of scorn. “Ever wondered what secrets lie buried in these sewers since fifty years ago? Only the seasoned craftsperson who served under the reign of the Frost Queen would be privy to such knowledge.”

Upon hearing this, Vanna’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You’re saying that these facilities are remnants from the Queen’s reign?” she blurted out, taken aback by the revelation. “But how on earth were you able to keep these underground waterways a secret?”

With a nonchalant shrug, Nemo replied, “I was not present during the tumultuous events fifty years ago. However, my grandfather’s tales, which filled most of my life, shed light on it. He spoke of the Frost Queen commissioning a grand subterranean infrastructure for the entire city-state. It was an initiative to manage land scarcity and set the groundwork for the city’s long-term expansion. This impressive project included advanced underground waterways, power pipelines, electrical grids, and a fully operational transportation system. What you see here, dubbed a ‘sewer,’ is in fact, the deepest layer of the system. In technical terms, it would be known as the ‘Second Waterway.’ Above it exists the ‘First Waterway,’ the current sewage system utilized by Frost.

“In the aftermath of the Frostbite Rebellion, the city-state managed to survive, contrary to what many believe. While the insurgents boasted about swiftly overpowering the last of the ‘Mad Queen’s’ defenders, the reality was quite different. For a continuous 72 hours post the seizing of the Queen’s Palace, now the municipal center, a fierce battle raged. Loyalists retreated to the underground system, turning the web of subway stations and pipeline networks into battlegrounds.

“Meanwhile, up on the surface, as the rebels triumphantly paraded through the city center, newspapers broadcasted the regime change, and fearful citizens barricaded themselves within their homes. The underground stations were sealed, and the populous huddled near the wells, straining their ears to pick up the haunting sounds of battle emanating from the abyss below.

“The unrest continued up until the day of the grand execution,” Nemo continued, a tinge of somberness in his tone. “That day, the resounding crash of the sea cliff collapsing resonated throughout the city, effectively silencing the last pockets of resistance that lingered underground.

“In the aftermath, the Queen’s loyal guards meticulously destroyed all vertical shafts leading to this ‘Second Waterway’ and sealed the gates that linked it with the ‘First Waterway’ above. Along with a series of minor conflicts and deliberate cave-ins that ensued, this effectively severed the ‘Second Waterway’ from the upper levels.”

As he recounted this piece of history, Nemo lifted his gaze to the thick dome-like ceiling above them. It was as if his stare had the power to bore through the layers of steel, concrete, and stone to take in the bustling life on the city streets overhead.

“The rebel-led government that took over was not entirely clueless about this intricate sewer system,” he added with a knowing smile. “They were aware of Frost’s hidden underground world, but what could they do about it? They merely knew of its existence.

“The aftermath of the cliff’s collapse was catastrophic. The city suffered extensive damage, and it took Frost several decades to bounce back from the civil war. The economy was kept afloat by the city’s sole remaining economic pillar – ore mining. Frost, once the vibrant city-state of the Cold Seas, had its glory reduced to mere pages in history books. To this day, the city continues to rely on the pipeline system left behind by the Frost Queen.

“Given this context, who would have the capacity to delve into the vast network buried deep beneath the city-state’s surface? The financial implications of reopening the vertical shafts and renovating the ‘Second Waterway’ were too substantial for the new government to undertake. Furthermore, with its depleted population and shrunken city size, post-war Frost found the ‘First Waterway’ at the upper level to be sufficient.”

Vanna’s memory was suddenly jogged by a saying that Morris had voiced not too long ago, and she found herself muttering it out loud, “As long as it’s enough, we’ll make do with it.”

“That’s the spirit,” Nemo responded, chuckling. “As long as it’s enough, we’ll make do with it. The city is already riddled with wounds and cannot bear the burden of another significant upheaval. Besides, in a city of this magnitude, a few ‘moss’ hiding deep in the sewers is hardly a concern. Heretics, sinister creatures, night shadows, lost anomalies running amok – there are a plethora of threats lurking in the shadows, many of which pose a greater concern to the authorities and the church than us.”

Duncan, who had been mostly quiet, attentively listening to the ‘informant’ spin tales, finally found his voice: “Such an enormous underground facility, complete with gas and electricity supply, it’s impossible for you to manage it all on your own, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely not,” Nemo Wilkins laughed in response to Duncan’s query. “We do have a network of supporters scattered throughout the city, some even infiltrating various departments within City Hall. A good number of them are descendants of the Queen’s Guards, like myself, and others have passed Admiral Tyrian’s rigorous tests, proving themselves to be loyal and trustworthy allies. However, their positions or identities make it imprudent for them to appear in public.”

Upon hearing this, Duncan couldn’t help but shake his head, “Tyrian mentioned he had a few ‘informants’ planted in Frost. That boy sure downplayed his efforts. The man has essentially entrenched an extensive network of allies within Frost…”

Nemo picked up on the particular term Duncan had used to refer to Tyrian. The middle-aged man’s countenance grew noticeably tense, but he chose to remain silent on the matter.

While everyone else was engaged in conversation, Morris had been quietly taking in the vast expanse of the underground world. His gaze darted over the monumental dome above, the derelict pipelines crisscrossing overhead, and the numerous valves and offshoots of pipes on the nearby walls, all clearly retrofitted. After a moment, he finally broke his silence, “Do you still command the entirety of the Second Waterway?”

“Truth be told, only a fraction of it,” Nemo confessed, shaking his head in mild regret. “As much as I’d love to proclaim that the entire underground realm is under our control, we’re restrained by our limited manpower, and the sheer expanse of the Second Waterway is simply staggering. As it stands, we only manage about one-fifth of these abandoned sewers. The rest of the areas are either abandoned due to cave-ins, inundated with toxic wastewater, or are so dangerously contaminated that they’ve become virtually inaccessible.”

“Dangerous contamination?” Vanna, who had been listening in, immediately furrowed her brows, her professional instincts taking over.

“On occasion, pursued supernatural entities inadvertently find their way into the sewers and perish here, leading to widespread pollution. But more often than not, it’s the darkness itself that spawns monstrosities,” Nemo elucidated. “This is a vast subterranean domain, and the gas we covertly siphon off from the pipelines above cannot possibly illuminate the entire Second Waterway. Where there is insufficient light… those regions succumb to perpetual darkness.”

For a moment, Vanna stood mute, feeling somewhat choked up by the revelation.

Being a native of the flourishing city-state of Pland and a guardian of its order, she struggled to grasp the notion that a city could permit such a state of affairs to persist – vast underground facilities languishing in eternal darkness, even beginning to harbor shadows and becoming irrevocably contaminated. Could such a situation truly exist?

Yet, the reality unfolding before her served as a stark confirmation that it was indeed possible. For over half a century, the citizens of Frost had been living under such circumstances, apparently without any major disruptions.

“There’s no denying the occasional unfortunate incident where individuals who mistakenly wander into the underground disappear, or that the night-shift guards face a higher fatality rate compared to those in other city-states, but such occurrences have now become the norm,” Nemo stated.

He couldn’t help but notice Vanna’s look of disbelief. Having already discerned that these individuals were “outsiders,” he had a fair idea of what astonished them.

“Periodically clearing out hazardous sections of the First Waterway and subway tunnels, sporadically scattering holy incense and sacred ashes into the depths of the underground, enhancing the compensations offered to guards for their risk, and requiring the gatekeeper to make additional rounds – these measures have enabled most ordinary people to lead fairly decent lives… Considering the circumstances, it’s a pretty good arrangement.” Having said that, the “bar owner” paused momentarily and turned around, a smile playing on his lips, “Trust me, the majority of city-states are in a similar predicament, and it’s been this way since time immemorial.”

At a loss for words, Duncan and the others exchanged glances. After a brief yet uncomfortable silence, it was Vanna who broke the ice. She turned to Morris and queried, “What’s your evaluation?”

“No indications of cognitive disruption. Thought patterns and memories appear to be intact.”

Morris responded to Vanna’s question, yet his focus remained unwaveringly on Nemo Wilkins. Underneath the old scholar’s attentive gaze, a subtle silvery luminescence was gradually fading away.

Nemo blinked, a perplexed look creeping onto his face. “What… are you talking about?”

Duncan quietly observed the man before responding, “Mr. Nemo, congratulations, you seem to be free from any effects of cognitive interference.”

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