Deep Sea Embers
chapter-437

The radiant being, which seemed to be crafted from the very fabric of the stars, moved closer to Agatha. Its ethereal voice reverberated, filling every corner of the room with its sound. For a fleeting moment, Agatha felt her senses distort, her understanding of the room’s dimensions waning and warping. The towering figure, a celestial colossus teeming with the light of countless stars, seemed to engulf her very soul, making her feel tiny and inconsequential.

However, this unsettling feeling was short-lived. Almost as quickly as it had come, Agatha found herself snapping back to reality, her senses refocusing. The once-overpowering presence in the room now seemed almost familiar to her, as if she had easily, and quite naturally, merged into its ethereal company.

“I…” Agatha hesitated, her eyes locking onto the towering figure made of celestial light. She sensed that she was continuously capturing glimpses of the true essence of this inexplicable being. Normally, trying to comprehend such a thing would be dangerous, even potentially fatal, but her anxiety faded away when she realized she remained unharmed. “I didn’t think you’d still be here. I thought maybe I’d just happen upon you…”

“Do you really think I’d just casually walk away, abandoning all this?” Duncan laughed, gesturing for her to come inside as he spoke. He glanced sideways at Alice before continuing, “I’m talking about those predictable storylines in your picture books, where the heroes fulfill their quests and then simply vanish.”

Agatha paused, momentarily disoriented. She felt as if she was struggling to keep up with the complex thoughts of this immense celestial being. Nevertheless, she quickly reassured herself, thinking that it’s only to be expected that a mere mortal like her wouldn’t be able to fully grasp the wisdom of ancient gods. With that in mind, she stepped into the house.

Duncan, however, suddenly stopped and looked intently at Agatha’s hand.

“Could you put Shirley down first?” He asked, his voice tinged with a strange note. “And Shirley, what are you looking so pleased about?”

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Agatha realized what he was referring to and hastily set down the small girl she had been holding. But as she did, her expression changed dramatically.

In the midst of her initial bewilderment at the entrance, she hadn’t closely examined Shirley. Now, she was horrified to see that the girl was physically distorted. Her limbs were unnaturally twisted as if she had formed a malevolent bond with a shadow demon. Chains materialized from her body, then disappeared into her form, and lurking in the shadows was a dark figure watching covertly.

“Demon,” Agatha murmured instinctively, her muscles tightening as if preparing for combat.

Before she could make a move, Duncan’s calming voice broke through her tension. “Relax, it’s just a benign hound. I sometimes require the assistance of such a creature to locate things. Call him Dog.”

“A benign… hound?” Agatha repeated, puzzled. Her eyes automatically scanned the room again.

She saw them once more—the people in the room who appeared to have been chosen by gods, those speculated to be blessed by subspace, individuals radiating the power of the sun, and those with souls so enigmatic they defied any attempt to understand them.

Agatha’s eyes shifted back to the girl named Shirley. At the same time, she noticed that the creature known as Dog had retreated further into the shadows, curling its body and lowering its head in a posture that could only be described as woeful.

In the grand scheme of things, amid the presence of this age-old celestial deity and its entourage, any shadow demon like Dog would indeed be as benign as a domesticated pet. The danger they might otherwise represent was neutralized in this setting.

Noticing Agatha’s lingering silence, Duncan took the opportunity to elaborate. “You needn’t worry. Shirley is not a follower of the Annihilation Cult or anything of the sort. She met Dog under different circumstances, and both are now under my command. They pose no threat to the city-state or its people.”

With a gracious wave of his hand, Duncan gestured to a chair nearby. “Please, have a seat. I presume we have much to discuss.”

Agatha walked toward the chair, her every step observed by Duncan. Though she found the seat effortlessly, there was an air of cautious investigation in how she settled herself down.

“It appears you need some time to adjust to your current condition,” Duncan observed, breaking the silence. “How are you coping?”

Despite Duncan’s ever-present aura of warmth and serenity, Agatha couldn’t help but feel slightly uneasy. “I’m still adapting to my newfound perspective on the world,” she admitted, “but there’s no cause for concern about my physical well-being. The changes I’ve undergone have actually expanded my abilities. I can now sense things far beyond what was previously possible for me. It’s a matter of adjustment, really.”

“I apologize,” Duncan responded, his voice taking on a weightier tone. “I hadn’t anticipated such extensive transformations in you. Truthfully, you didn’t need to go to the extent of sacrificing yourself.”

“Self-sacrifice was the most effective course of action,” Agatha said softly, shaking her head. “There is no vessel better suited to channel your immense power than a gatekeeper such as myself.”

Duncan remained silent for a moment, contemplating her words. His eyes then shifted to her attire, which was noticeably different from when they had last met.

“You’ve changed quite a bit since our last encounter,” he commented casually. “You carry an air of priestly authority now.”

“I’m temporarily assuming the duties of the Archbishop,” Agatha replied, nodding gently. “Bishop Ivan is no more, and the conflicts within the city have been resolved. The people don’t need a heavily armed gatekeeper right now. They need a spiritual leader to help heal the souls of those who have passed and to comfort the hearts of the living.”

“Bishop Ivan, you say…” Duncan’s voice grew somber. After a pause, he let out a soft sigh. “Though our paths never crossed, I did sense the divine shield he cast over the city-state. Brief as it was, his efforts managed to temporarily sever the link between the mirror world and our reality. His sacrifice, no doubt, saved numerous lives.”

“May he find everlasting peace in Bartok’s domain,” Agatha said softly, her voice tinged with a wistful hope. “He struggled and persevered for so many years; it’s time he finally enjoys the peace he has so rightfully earned.”

“I believe he will,” Duncan responded in a calm tone. “Although the specifics of Bartok’s realm elude me, if he is a deity of true power and justice, I trust that noble souls will be treated with the dignity they deserve.” He then changed the subject abruptly, “Let’s move on. I’d like to know what the current situation is within the city-state.”

Agatha nodded softly, her mind racing. As a cleric of the Death Church and one of the few influential figures capable of instilling some semblance of stability in the city-state, she knew the gravity of revealing sensitive information. She was especially cautious about sharing too much with an unknown being—perhaps even an ancient deity. However, after witnessing the immense figure that had appeared in the ocean beyond the city and after the pivotal event of the “self-sacrifice,” she recognized that both she and Frost, the city-state itself, were now bound to this mysterious figure in a way that could not be undone.

The enigmatic entity before her seemed interested in the plight of her troubled city-state, and she realized she could no longer evade addressing the issue at hand. If her actions today were to be considered sinful, then it would be for the church and her Lord to cast judgment.

“The situation in Frost is dire,” she began, speaking softly but clearly. “As you know, we’ve recently lost Archbishop Ivan. His loss has hit hard—our clergy and guardian forces have sustained significant casualties while trying to defend the city. At the moment, the atmosphere is thick with fear and tension, exacerbated by the emotional toll of our losses. If we don’t take immediate action, secondary catastrophes will inevitably follow. The people’s fears will manifest as dark specters, and with our church’s ranks severely depleted, this sense of ‘fear’ is likely to spread like wildfire throughout the city-state, gaining momentum as it goes.”

“The coming sunset is particularly worrisome. Frost has been enveloped in darkness for an extended period due to what we’ve termed ‘the mirror invasion.’ This has critically weakened our city-state’s defenses against otherworldly forces. What challenges await us in the first night after this long stretch of darkness is anybody’s guess.”

“As for City Hall, the situation there is even graver than what we face at the church. Aside from the physical and emotional toll endured by our city guards and sheriff’s forces during the recent conflict, the most urgent problem is…”

Here, Agatha hesitated, grappling with her conscience. But after a brief internal struggle, she decided that withholding the information was no longer an option. “The governor has gone missing. It’s a situation we cannot keep under wraps any longer.”

Duncan’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. “Vanished, you say?”

“He was last sighted at the metal ore mine,” Agatha began, struggling momentarily to find the right words. “Another version of me—I know it sounds perplexing—once led an exploration team to inspect that very mine tunnel where Governor Winston went missing. According to the team that later returned to the cathedral, both this ‘other me’ and the governor entered a mysterious area surrounded by stone walls. Neither of us came back.”

Her voice quivered as she spoke, revealing that the notion of “another version of herself” shook her far more than she let on.

Duncan pondered the emotional whirlwind that Agatha must have faced upon her return to the cathedral, especially upon learning from her fellow priests about the enigmatic actions of this ‘other version’ of herself.

He looked at her intently, “You can be frank with me. You’ve concluded that the governor is dead, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Agatha admitted candidly, no longer evading the issue. “While I don’t have concrete evidence, I possess a deep-rooted, intuitive understanding that he’s gone—likely trapped in some mysterious, dark realm from which his physical body will never return.”

“You ‘know,'” Duncan emphasized, leaning back in his chair to reposition himself. “It seems like you’re planning to return to that metal ore mine.”

“That’s where she—this other version of me—was last seen,” Agatha acknowledged softly. “In the moment she vanished, I felt something indescribable, almost as if I had gained momentary access to her thoughts. I have the strong sense that she had important information she wanted to share with me, but she ran out of time.”

Agatha paused, collecting her thoughts, before continuing, “Moreover, the exploration team that came back from the mine mentioned something to me. They relayed a piece of information that this ‘other me’ had imparted to them while guiding them through the tunnels. This newfound revelation has left me even more unsettled and anxious…”