“The sea remembers everything, but it rarely speaks.”
Isleana. The name itself is a sigh, a forgotten prayer carried on the salt-laced wind. It wasn't always a legend, a phantom city whispered about by sailors and cartographers. It *was* a place, a thriving metropolis built upon the convergence of three ancient currents, a nexus of trade and arcane knowledge. But the sea, as it often does, had other plans.
The prevailing theory, pieced together from fragmented scrolls and the unsettling accounts of the few who claimed to have glimpsed it, suggests a cataclysmic event – a convergence of tectonic plates, a surge of unimaginable energy – swallowed the city whole. Some speak of a betrayal, a pact made with entities best left undisturbed. The truth, predictably, is far more complex, tangled with the ambitions of kings, the machinations of forgotten gods, and the inherent instability of the world's foundations.
The architecture of Isleana, even in its ruined state (as seen in the rare, unsettling visions), defies simple categorization. It blends elements of classical Greek, Mesopotamian, and something… older. Something that predates recorded history. The buildings seem to *grow* out of the rock, adorned with carvings of serpentine figures and bizarre geometric patterns. There are whispers of a technology beyond our current comprehension, a mastery of manipulating the very forces of nature.
Despite the city's disappearance, remnants persist. Not physical objects – those were consumed by the sea – but echoes. Emotional resonances, psychic impressions, fragments of memory imprinted upon the currents themselves. These echoes manifest as unsettling visions, sudden feelings of dread, and the faint sound of music played on instruments that no longer exist.
The “Guardians,” as they’ve come to be known, are individuals who have developed a sensitivity to these echoes. They aren’t necessarily powerful magic users, but they possess an uncanny ability to navigate the psychic landscape of Isleana, to piece together the story of the city’s downfall. They’re often driven to the brink of madness, haunted by the suffering of the city’s inhabitants.
One Guardian, a woman named Lyra, claims she can hear the voices of the children, trapped within the city’s ruins. "They don’t want to be forgotten," she says, her voice barely a whisper. “They just want to return home.”
It is believed that the core of the city’s power – a crystalline structure known as the ‘Heart of Isleana’ – still exists, radiating a residual energy that attracts and amplifies these echoes. Locating the Heart is the key, some believe, to understanding the city’s fate and perhaps, even to preventing a similar catastrophe.
The three currents that once nourished Isleana – the Serpent’s Coil, the Dragon’s Breath, and the Siren’s Song – are now said to be tainted. They carry not just water, but also the residue of the city’s destruction. Sailors who venture too close report experiencing disorientation, hallucinations, and an overwhelming sense of loss.
The ‘Siren’s Song,’ in particular, is considered dangerous. It’s not a beautiful melody, but a cacophony of despair, a lure designed to draw individuals into the depths. It’s rumored to be connected to a being known only as ‘The Weaver,’ a creature of shadow and silence that dwells within the Heart of Isleana.
There are tales of expeditions that set out to reclaim Isleana, only to vanish without a trace, swallowed by the currents themselves. These disappearances are more than just accidents; they are deliberate acts, orchestrated by the forces that remain within the city’s ruins.