Winking Isle

"In the migrainous straits of deep sleep, there is a marsh where candle-flames buzz like wasps." WARNING: Beyond this point lie spoilers for Fallen London's most infamous storyline: Seeking Mr Eaten's Name. Turn back now. You can find out more about our spoiler policy here.

"The summit of Winking Isle is two dozen paces across, a flat lawn of springy grass -- black, or a deep green that seems black in this light. In the very centre stands a Well of black brick. As you cross the grass, scents arise: crushed flowers, camphor, ice. There may, or may not be, a lighthouse."

Winking Isle is an island containing a single well and a dark lighthouse.

Camphor and Ice

"You could spend your whole life here, until even the vitality of the Neath gutters in you, and you lie brittle beside the Well."

Encircled.

Winking Isle is a lonely island in the eastern Unterzee, accessible via dreams through a certain ritual. In fact, the Isle exists on the line dividing the High Wilderness and Parabola. When seen through dreams, the surroundings of Winking Isle are quite strange; the "ocean" below is in fact a starry night, and the "sky" above is the sea.

The rest of the Isle is more concrete, containing a gravel path that leads to the island's summit from its starlit-silver sands. The summit is a small, candlelit lawn of dark green grass with a Well of stone at its center, and it has a distinct scent: "crushed flowers, camphor, ice". Traditionally, the Well is circled thrice at a time, but some visitors circle in sevens. There is a reason for this.

The Lighthouse

"The lighthouse would warn ships, but no ships come here. It would give light, but there is only darkness in its core. It has no door, and no windows. It is not here. But still it flashes, flashes, flashes. Winking Isle."

No light.

The Lighthouse of Winking Isle gives off no light, as there are no ships to alert. Such light is invisible, and can only be seen by certain eyes. It does not have a door, inscribed with a sigil of the Correspondence, and it does not have a dark, metallic handle. Its interior is marked by many Correspondence sigils, and it has seven thousand steps leading to its top.

At the top of the Lighthouse are its lens and Apparatus, as well as several journals written by Mr Candles, penned in Correspondence on meteorites and leather. In ages past, Mr Candles held dominion over dreams, and the Lighthouse may have been how he lit the very edge of sleep.

"Here he once stood, on the border between Parabola and the Wilderness, to look out across his wounded realm. Or perhaps he only imagined it. Perhaps you only imagined it. This is a dream that wounds, but it is a dream."