The Quest for the Sunken Horizon AnA SAlinAS The QuesT for The sunken horizon Ana Salinas Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C The Quest for the Sunken Horizon The Quest for the Sunken Horizon Ana Salinas Ana Salinas An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C The Quest for the Sunken Horizon T he first rays of dawn broke through the thick canopy of the Amazon rainforest, casting a faint, golden glow on the dense foliage below. The sounds of the jungle were stirring to life, an or- chestra of birds, insects, and the occasional growl of a predator. In the heart of this vast, untamed world, Captain Ignatius Thorne stood at the helm of the Dis- covery , his small but sturdy vessel, its polished wood- en surface gleaming with the promise of adventure. His sharp eyes, the color of a stormy sea, scanned the horizon, aware that ahead of him lay a journey as perilous as any he had ever undertaken. “Steady, Captain!” shouted Simon, the mechanical genius, his voice carrying over the thrumming en- gines. “This old ship is built for comfort, not speed!” Ana Salinas Thorne’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Comfort is a luxury we can’t afford, Simon. We’ll need speed to outrun whatever’s waiting for us.” Indeed, there was much waiting. They were in pur- suit of the legendary lost city of Xalapan, rumored to hold technology far beyond their time, hidden deep within the Amazon’s uncharted wilderness. The city, as elusive as a shadow at twilight, had drawn ex- plorers, treasure hunters, and scholars alike, none of whom had returned to tell the tale. But Thorne, ever the optimist, was determined. His crew, diverse and driven, was handpicked for their skills—and their ability to survive the madness of the jungle. Beside him stood Professor Hargrove, an archae- ologist whose grizzled appearance matched the age of the legends he sought to uncover. The professor was deep in thought, his hands clutching a well-worn map as if it held the answers to all the mysteries of the world. “According to the coordinates, we should be nearing the Tigris River,” he said, his voice low and contemplative. “The ancient city lies just beyond. If the stories are true, we may be on the verge of dis- covering something... monumental.” “Monumental, you say?” Simon chuckled from be- hind the control panel, adjusting a series of dials on The Quest for the Sunken Horizon his mechanical contraption. “Or perhaps just anoth- er pile of overgrown rocks with no Wi-Fi.” “Simon!” Mariana, the botanist, admonished with a raised eyebrow, “Not everything needs to be con- nected to the internet for you to find it useful. These ancient technologies could have been far more ad- vanced than anything we can imagine. Imagine the possibilities!” Mariana, with her raven-black hair and a mischie- vous glint in her eyes, was the perfect foil to Simon’s ever-skeptical demeanor. She had been raised on sto- ries of the unknown, her heart beating to the rhythm of the jungle. But even she couldn’t deny the tension in the air. The Amazon wasn’t just any jungle—it was the beating heart of the planet, ancient, vast, and un- predictable. “And yet,” Mariana continued, “I’d prefer it if we didn’t stumble upon some giant venomous snake while you’re fiddling with your gadgets.” “Rest assured,” Simon replied, “I have all manner of devices that will...” “Devices will not save you from a python!” Marco, their guide, called from the stern of the boat. Mar- Ana Salinas co’s knowledge of the jungle was unparalleled; he had lived among its tribes, survived its dangers, and witnessed its most bizarre and terrifying creatures. His face was painted with a calm, knowing expres- sion, but his eyes hinted at a depth of experience that made even Thorne uneasy at times. “Keep your eyes peeled, everyone,” Marco contin- ued, his voice laced with the faintest hint of a warn- ing. “This river is not like the others. The jungle is alive here, and it will watch you. If you’re not careful, it will swallow you whole.” “You sound like a man who’s seen too many hor- ror films, Marco,” Simon muttered, though the slight edge in his voice suggested he wasn’t entirely com- fortable either. “You’ll see soon enough,” Marco replied cryptical- ly. “Just wait for the river to tell you its secrets.” The expedition pressed forward, the small boat slicing through the murky waters of the Amazon. The jungle was closing in on them, thick and relentless, as if it were protecting something—or perhaps trying to keep them from finding it. Every turn in the river seemed to reveal a new obstacle: unexpected rapids, sudden whirlpools, and the looming threat of mas- The Quest for the Sunken Horizon sive, ancient trees that could capsize the boat with a single fallen branch. The crew, though seasoned, were beginning to feel the weight of the journey. Professor Hargrove, noticing the silence growing among his crew, glanced at Thorne. “Captain, do you truly believe the city exists? After all this time?” Thorne, who had seen his fair share of expeditions fail, didn’t answer immediately. He stared ahead, his jaw set with determination. “I believe the Amazon keeps its secrets well guarded,” he said, his voice firm. “But if we don’t find it, someone else will. And I’ll be damned if we let a myth remain a myth.” His words, meant to reassure, hung in the humid air like the mist rising from the river. The crew ex- changed uncertain glances. The Amazon was a lab- yrinth, and Thorne had just boldly declared that he was prepared to conquer it. But as they ventured deeper into the jungle, the mood shifted. The very air around them seemed to change, becoming thicker, heavier, as if the rainforest itself was aware of their presence. A strange buzzing noise filled the air, growing louder with each passing minute. Ana Salinas “That doesn’t sound like the usual jungle hum,” Si- mon remarked, his hands halting in their tinkering. “Sounds like... an army of bees.” “I’m afraid that’s the least of our concerns,” Mar- co said, his voice unnervingly calm. “Keep moving. We’re being watched.” The words hung in the air, and before anyone could respond, a deafening roar echoed from the jungle’s depths, followed by the unmistakable thud of some- thing large moving through the underbrush. “That,” Mariana said with an uneasy grin, “sounds more like a jaguar on steroids.” Thorne’s hand instinctively went to the rifle slung at his side. “Everyone, brace yourselves.” And then, as if on cue, the boat was jerked violently to the left, throwing them all off balance. A massive shadow passed overhead, blocking out the sun, and before they could react, the boat was yanked forward by an invisible force—a current stronger than any they had encountered. The Amazon was no longer just a river. It was a living, breathing entity, pulling them deeper into its embrace. “We’re not alone,” Thorne muttered grimly, realiz- The Quest for the Sunken Horizon ing that their adventure was taking a far darker turn than they had ever imagined. As the Discovery continued down the twisting river, swallowed by the vast jungle, one thing was certain: the secrets of Xalapan were not ready to be uncov- ered. And those who dared search for them would soon learn that the Amazon would not let go easily. Ana Salinas I. The journey began beneath the dense green canopy of the Amazon rainforest, where the sunlight strug- gled to break through the thick, oppressive foliage. The boat, a modest but sturdy vessel, sliced through the murky, brown waters of the river, its progress punctuated by the occasional creaking of wood and the soft lapping of water against the hull. A damp mist hung in the air, the humidity thick enough to feel as if it could be cut with a knife. Each breath seemed laden with the heavy scent of earth and vegetation, as if the very air was alive, breathing in time with the ancient rhythm of the jungle. The team of explorers, Captain Ignatius Thorne, the ever-curious Professor Hargrove, the skeptical Simon, and the spirited botanist Mariana, were deep into the heart of a place no other outsiders had dared to venture. Their mission: to find the legendary city of Xalapan, a city said to possess ancient technolo- gies and secrets beyond their wildest imagination. The Quest for the Sunken Horizon But in the presence of the jungle’s immensity, even the bravest of souls found themselves humbled. Ev- ery crack in the undergrowth, every rustle in the trees, every birdcall sent a chill down their spines. It was as if the Amazon itself was watching them, wait- ing for them to slip up. Simon, with his ever-present collection of gadgets, was the first to break the silence. His wiry frame hunched over his equipment, which seemed to mal- function with every passing second. “I swear, the sounds here are as persistent as a cat trying to get a good nap!” he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow as he tried to make sense of his contraption. “You should see the insects,” Mariana grinned mischievously from beside him, holding up a speci- men jar containing a bizarrely large beetle, its wings shimmering a grotesque shade of green. “If they keep growing at this rate, they’ll be running the place by the time we get back.” Simon recoiled, but with characteristic dry humor, shot back, “If they get any bigger, we’ll be asking them for directions instead of Marco.” Professor Hargrove, his voice muffled by the thick air, adjusted his spectacles, peering at the jungle with Ana Salinas a mixture of awe and trepidation. “If you ever need- ed proof that nature is a master of reinvention, Si- mon, look no further than this jungle. This is a living cathedral of evolution, a laboratory where life con- stantly reinvents itself.” “You really ought to teach a class on nightmare ecology,” Simon muttered, glancing at the insect in Mariana’s jar with unease. The boat pushed onward, navigating deeper into the Amazon, where the river twisted and turned like an ancient serpent weaving through the jungle’s dense grasp. It wasn’t long before the surroundings grew even more oppressive. The trees grew larger, their trunks gnarled and ancient, some wrapped in vines so thick they seemed to swallow the light. The dense undergrowth made it feel as though the jungle was slowly creeping up around them, closing in on the small boat as if trying to swallow it whole. Suddenly, the river took a sharp turn, and with- out warning, the current dipped sharply. The boat lurched forward, and the crew scrambled to keep their balance. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, they veered too close to a dense thicket of vines and branches. The boat groaned under the strain as it be- came caught in the thick foliage. The Quest for the Sunken Horizon “Hold tight, everyone!” Captain Thorne called, his voice calm but strained as he attempted to steer the boat with one hand, his other gripping the rudder. “This is why I said we should bring more paddles!” “Not much room for extra paddles when you’re al- ready hauling half the equipment from a museum!” Simon retorted, gripping the nearest solid object, his knuckles white as the boat swayed dangerously. His mechanical gadgets rattled ominously as the boat was tossed from side to side. “Steady now,” Marco’s voice came from the stern of the boat, cutting through the commotion with a smoothness only someone who had spent a lifetime on these rivers could possess. Marco was the local guide, a seasoned veteran of the Amazon’s danger- ous waters, and he seemed utterly unperturbed by the chaos surrounding them. With one hand steady on the tiller, he muttered, “You should’ve listened to the locals, Captain. They said this part of the river doesn’t like to be disturbed.” Thorne shot him a quick glance. “If we listened to every superstitious fool who claimed to know the jungle, we’d still be in London.” Marco, with a half-smile, shrugged. “Maybe. But the river? It doesn’t care what you think.” Ana Salinas With a final push, Marco expertly steered the boat free from the vines, and the team exhaled collective- ly. The boat, now safely back in the current, coasted forward once again. Simon wiped his brow, his face pale from the close call. “If this jungle is so temperamental, maybe we should just set up camp here, right in the middle of the vines. It’s not like it’s ever going to let us get far anyway.” “You know,” Professor Hargrove said, adjusting his glasses, “I once read that the Amazon could be lik- ened to a living organism, like a vast network of veins and arteries, blood rushing through its foliage, only to be disrupted by outsiders like us.” He smiled thin- ly, almost as though to acknowledge the irony of his own words. “Sounds like you’re about to start writing poetry,” Simon quipped. “Maybe we should send the jungle a card that says, ‘We’re just passing through. No need to give us the cold shoulder.’” The sound of a cracking branch in the distance cut through their banter. It was followed by a low growl, almost imperceptible, but enough to put everyone on edge. The Quest for the Sunken Horizon “Did you hear that?” Simon froze mid-sentence, his ears straining for the sound to return. The crew quieted, each of them listening intently. The jungle was eerily still for a moment, save for the chirping insects. “It’s the jungle,” Mariana shrugged, breaking the si- lence with her easy grin. “It makes all kinds of nois- es. Half of them are probably just an old tree falling over.” “Or a hungry jaguar,” Marco added, his grin wid- ening as he glanced toward the dense undergrowth. “Though, I prefer not to test the theory.” “Funny,” Simon muttered, casting an anxious glance at the dark shadows of the trees, “that’s the exact kind of theory I’d prefer to avoid testing.” Just then, the boat began to rock again, but this time, the cause was different, there was something in the water. A ripple passed beneath them, too large to be from the current alone. “Something’s not right,” Thorne said, his voice tense, his eyes scanning the murky depths. Before anyone could respond, the boat rocked again, more violently this time. And then... silence. Ana Salinas The jungle held its breath. The crew stared at each other, waiting for the inevitable. And then, from the depths of the water, emerged a shape. At first, it was a mere shadow, but as it rose, it became clear, a colossal, serpentine creature, its scales glistening like polished emeralds. The beast surfaced with a roar, its head nearly as large as the boat itself, its eyes glowing with a predatory hunger. Thorne’s heart raced, but his voice was steady as he shouted, “Everyone, brace yourselves! We’re not just hunting the city anymore. We’re hunting survival !” The Amazon had awakened, and it was furious. The Quest for the Sunken Horizon II. The air hung heavy with moisture, clinging to skin and clothing as the dense Amazon rainforest swal- lowed the team whole. Their boat had long been abandoned at the river’s edge, now a distant memory of civilization. The path ahead was a smothering tan- gle of foliage, roots, and vines that seemed to grow tighter with every passing moment. The deeper they ventured into the jungle, the more the sunlight was lost to the thick canopy above, casting the world be- neath in shadow. The only sounds were the persistent drone of insects, the rustle of unseen creatures, and the occasional creak of the immense trees, as though the jungle itself was alive and watching. Captain Ignatius Thorne, the leader of this expe- dition, led the way with machete in hand, cutting through the verdant barrier that lay before them. Each swing of his blade felt heavier than the last, his Ana Salinas sweat-slicked arm trembling with exhaustion. He was no stranger to arduous journeys, but the Am- azon was a different beast entirely, a labyrinth that seemed determined to claim those who dared tres- pass upon its ancient heart. Behind him, the ever-pragmatic Professor Har- grove, looking more suited to a dusty library than a jungle, did his best to keep up. He squinted at his map, then at the surroundings, before muttering to himself in frustration. “According to this,” he said, his voice tinged with confusion, “we should be near- ing the base of the plateau, yet all I see are trees and more trees!” Simon, the tech-obsessed engineer, was no more suited to jungle life than Hargrove, though his ap- proach was entirely different. He was hunched over, fidgeting with a broken mechanical device. His once gleaming instruments had succumbed to the hu- midity and relentless jungle, and his gadgets, tools of modern civilization, were rapidly becoming as useful as paperweights. “I told you, I need at least a dry surface to work,” he muttered, tapping his failed GPS. “But no, we have to venture into the heart of a prehistoric swamp, where the most high-tech thing is the moss on the trees.”