Deep Sea Embers
chapter-580

Sara Mel, once a renowned adventurer celebrated for exploring the uncharted mysteries of the Boundless Seas, was now sitting uncomfortably in his dining room chair, his breakfast plate untouched and forgotten. This was a man who had confronted unimaginable perils, battled the forces of decay and death, and had even founded a city-state at the edge of the world’s most tempestuous storms. Yet, today, he wore an expression of apprehension rarely seen on his face.

Deep within him, a shadowy sense of unease began to grow. It was a form of intuition he’d come to trust—a silent alarm that rang inside him whenever colossal, incomprehensible threats loomed on the horizon, forces so powerful they defied human understanding.

Sara Mel found himself gravely concerned about Lucretia’s report. He had encountered the “Sea Witch” before. While many sea captains and pioneers viewed her as a menacing enigma, a shadow lurking in the vast ocean, Sara Mel was convinced that despite her volatile nature and dangerous powers, she was ultimately an ally of mankind.

The room was heavy with silence before Sara Mel shook off his ruminations. Looking up, he began to speak, “Up to this point, there have been no reports of unusual incidents from last night—neither from the local elven populace nor from any visiting foreigners. They haven’t mentioned experiencing the dream you described.”

Lucretia responded, “According to my father’s account, the anomalies manifested themselves in a highly visible and widespread manner. If any areas of the city were unaffected, it would be impossible for their inhabitants to remain ignorant of the strange occurrences happening around them. The only reasonable explanation is that last night, the entirety of Wind Harbor was engulfed in this mysterious dream.”

Her words sent an inexplicable shiver down Sara Mel’s spine. But his analytical mind kicked in, pushing him to probe for inconsistencies. “You said that in the real world, buildings were engulfed, or even ‘infested’ by foreign entities originating from the dream world—massive, invasive plants that intruded into buildings and across roads? And yet, there was no trace of this when dawn broke?”

“Exactly,” said Lucretia, “By morning, the world had returned to its original state.”

Sara Mel’s face tightened as he fell back into deep contemplation.

“What’s on your mind?” Lucretia inquired.

Sara Mel shared his thoughts aloud, “Perhaps it would be prudent to send someone to check the city’s gas and electricity meters, as well as the operational status of factories that run throughout the night. Our city is far from dormant when the sun sets. It relies on a complex network of utilities like gas, electricity, and steam—what I consider the three vital pillars that keep it functioning. These systems are monitored by night patrols and dedicated staff.

“This raises several questions: What happened to these workers when the dream enveloped the city? What condition were the machines they were responsible for in? There are also night-shift scholars from various research institutes, many of whom are required to keep periodic logs of their work.”

Sara Mel paused, seemingly lost in deep thought about the potential impact of the mysterious dream on the city’s infrastructure. The unsettling feeling within him persisted, but he knew that he must find logical explanations for the illogical events that had transpired.

Sara Mel briefly halted his discourse, deep in reflection. Then, shaking off his reverie, he resumed, “We must also determine the geographical extent of this peculiar dream-like state. Was it limited to just the primary landmass of Wind Harbor, or did it also affect our naval patrols in the surrounding seas? Could it have reached as far as ‘the fallen object’ and even further?”

The governor, restless in his introspection, stood up from behind his grand desk. He began to pace alongside the dining table, pausing now and then to deeply contemplate the multi-layered conundrums before him. He seemed utterly unaware that the “Sea Witch” was also in attendance.

Lucretia, however, was unbothered by his apparent lapse. She understood that prior to becoming a governor, Sara Mel had been an extraordinary adventurer—though in her eyes, not quite as extraordinary as her father. Such individuals were seasoned in dealing with an array of supernatural occurrences. After all, Sara Mel had been instrumental in the growth and prosperity of Wind Harbor, a city-state perched on the edge of dangerous frontier waters. His abilities were, therefore, beyond question.

Convinced that she had adequately delivered her father’s message, Lucretia rose to leave, careful not to disturb the governor’s deep thought. Her eyes scanned the table, and in a passing moment, she picked up an unopened bottle of spiced wine. Suddenly, her body disintegrated into a whirlwind of vibrant, fluttering confetti that spiraled towards the ceiling and disappeared.

A moment later, Sara Mel snapped back to awareness. Spinning around, he stammered, “Ah, I apologize for my distraction, Miss Lucretia. Would you care to stay for some—”

His words trailed off as he found himself staring at an empty chair and an equally vacant spot where his cherished bottle of spiced wine had been.

“…Again?!”

…

“Has the barrel count changed?” Inside his captain’s quarters, Duncan looked astonished as he scanned the report Alice had hastily brought him.

“Yes, absolutely!” Alice nodded vigorously, “I double and triple-checked! And I can’t be mistaken because I was the one who moved those barrels.”

Knowing Alice, Duncan was certain she wouldn’t lie. And the possibility of her miscounting was practically nonexistent.

After a moment’s reflection, Duncan stood up from behind his navigation table. “Show me,” he ordered.

“Right away!” Alice replied, unhesitant.

The goat head ornament positioned at the edge of the navigation table stirred to life. Its eyes locked onto Duncan, its voice tinged with a modicum of uncertainty: “Captain, should I…”

“Continue steering the ship,” Duncan cut in. Pausing briefly, he added, “Don’t concern yourself with anything else. As I said before, leave this matter to me.”

“Ai, Captain,” the goat head acknowledged.

Guided by Alice, Duncan made his way briskly to the storage area designated for the pickled fish, prepared to delve into another layer of mysterious happenings that now seemed to be unfolding at an alarming rate.

Indeed, at first glance, everything seemed to have returned to its proper state inside the storage room. A total of twelve wooden barrels were methodically aligned against the wall, not one more or less than expected.

Yet Duncan’s face remained stern as he scrutinized the cabin. With every movement of his eyes, ephemeral green flames appeared and disappeared like spectral entities dancing in the air. These wisp-like flames floated and hovered in the narrow gaps between the floorboards and the walls. It was as if the room were shrouded in an otherworldly mist of ghostly fire that flickered at the boundary between the material world and some spiritual realm.

Duncan was acutely aware that he was searching for residual “traces”—evidence that something foreign had entered this part of the ship. Although Alice’s report of an “extra barrel” might sound trivial, particularly on a ghost ship replete with oddities and enigmas, Duncan took no chances.

In the treacherous waters of the Boundless Sea, even minor abnormalities warrant cautious scrutiny—especially on board the Vanished, and especially given the peculiar events that had unfolded recently.

Recent incidents, along with conversations with the goat head and the reports he had received from Agatha, only heightened his sense of alertness. Something about the ship didn’t feel quite right.

Though he maintained operational control over the Vanished, Duncan felt increasingly uneasy about certain details—details that he did not recognize and could not fully comprehend. Either some long-buried secrets of the ship were slowly revealing themselves, or portions of the vessel were beginning to elude his authoritative grasp as captain.

Engulfed in the ghostly flames that served as his ethereal sensor net, Duncan intensified his affinity with the Vanished. Minute elements of the ship began to unfold in his mind’s eye—the decks, masts, sails, intricate systems of winches and ropes, the cabins beneath the deck, and even the murky, chaotic parts submerged in the Boundless Sea.

Though this wasn’t his first time performing such a spiritual reconnaissance, he took a moment to acclimatize his senses. He then allowed his awareness to meld with the ship and delved deeper into the mysterious depths of the Vanished.

As he probed, Duncan found that the ship’s kitchen, adjacent compartments, and deeper recesses showed no abnormalities. The ethereal glows spread through the Vanished like neural impulses, coursing through its labyrinthine structure. They ultimately converged at the captain’s quarters, centering on a distinct “focal point.”

This was the location of where Goathead sat, which currently acted as the nerve center for controlling the ship.

Duncan’s ethereal “gaze” lingered there, probing intently, and yet everything appeared to be in order.

Gradually, Duncan retracted his psychic view but left behind a wisp of the ghostly flame tucked away in the darkest corners of the ship as a sentinel. As he pulled his awareness back, he also strategically deposited “embers”—markers of his spiritual presence—in various strategic locations throughout the Vanished. This was his fail-safe, a network of ethereal monitors, ever vigilant for future anomalies.

Alice observed the captain closely, her eyes tinged with a mixture of concern and curiosity. The seconds stretched on, feeling like an eternity, as she waited for him to complete his otherworldly inspection. Finally, she noticed a subtle change in the expression on Duncan’s face, a sign that he had concluded his investigation. Anxiously, she rushed towards him. “Captain, Captain, what did you discover? Is everything as it should be?”

Duncan let a small, reassuring smile touch the corners of his lips as he gently patted Alice’s head. “The ship appears to be free of any anomalies—there’s no need to worry. It could simply be minor spatial distortions or perhaps some optical irregularities. Rest assured, I’ll handle it.”

Alice looked puzzled but decided to trust the captain’s judgment. She nodded her head, albeit somewhat confused. “Ah… alright, if you say so.”

Having offered a brief word of comfort to Alice, Duncan’s attention seemed to drift to a point in the vicinity. Hanging from a column about two meters away was an oil lamp enclosed in a glass shade. Mysterious shadows and mist seemed to swirl on the glass surface of the lampshade, coalescing to reveal the form of Agatha.

“Stay vigilant on the reflections in the spirit realm,” Duncan instructed her, locking eyes with the figure in the glass. “If anything ‘crosses the boundary’ between worlds, don’t attempt to manage it on your own. Alert me immediately, and I’ll return at once.”

Agatha nodded in acknowledgment, her ethereal form rippling in the glass as she said, “I understand, Captain.”

Alice’s gaze shifted between Duncan and Agatha’s spectral image, her expression reflecting her bewilderment. After a few seconds of silence, she finally spoke up. “So, are we still planning to go into the city?”

Duncan looked at Alice thoughtfully before answering, “The reach of the Dream of the Nameless One seems to be expanding across Wind Harbor. To get to the bottom of this, we may need to seek clues within the city-state itself.” He paused, looking at her keenly. “Besides, I have several questions that I want to investigate while we’re there. Would you prefer to stay aboard the ship or accompany me?”

Alice hesitated briefly, her gaze drifting back to the kitchen where her familiar “friends” awaited. Then, with a newfound sense of determination, she turned back to face Duncan. Her expression blossomed into a bright, radiant smile.

“Let’s go explore the city-state together!” she declared enthusiastically.