Deep Sea Embers

As the dusk gave way to the darkness of the night, a gentle flurry of snow began to whisper down from the heavens. In addition, the ethereal glow emanating from the World’s Creation bathed the surrounding environment in a chilly luminescence, creating a serene atmosphere that was starkly different from what one would typically experience in Pland.

Vanna stood by the narrow window as her gaze became lost in the winter tableau outside. After a long moment of silent contemplation, she released a weary sigh, “I am convinced that they haven’t proceeded with the payment yet. And by now, they have likely assembled a team of experts to decode the ‘secret number’ you left in the letter.”

Duncan swiveled his head towards her, his brows furrowed in puzzlement, “Is it really such a monumental issue?”

Turning towards Duncan, Vanna scrutinized her temporary boss with a serious expression, “Did you mention in the letter what purpose those numbers served?”

He replied, somewhat confidently, “No, but isn’t that the usual practice for a report letter?” Duncan elaborated, “At the conclusion of the report, one simply includes the account number, and the respective city hall will process the payment. That’s how it works in Pland. I have also heard that many jurisdictions purposefully avoid any remarks before the account number to maintain a sense of discretion and tactfulness. I thought it prudent to follow suit.”

A long, silent stare was Vanna’s response before she finally let out a resigned sigh.

Perceiving her reaction, Duncan pondered for a moment before expressing his doubts, somewhat sheepishly, “Is it not quite clear to them?”

Vanna replied, an undertone of fatigue evident in her voice, “As long as you comprehend what you have done, that’s satisfactory.”

The captain lowered his gaze, deep in thought, before hesitantly suggesting, “…Would it be detrimental if I were to write a second letter now?”

“You… should just hope they can decipher the true intention behind the report letter as soon as possible,” Vanna replied, rubbing her temples as a sense of exhaustion washed over her. She found it amusing how Captain Duncan, a man of power and fear, had such a peculiar and humorous side to him.

Unfazed by Vanna’s thoughts, Duncan asked nonchalantly, “How did things fare at Annie’s house when you took her home today?”

Vanna promptly responded, “Everything at the child’s home is normal, with no evidence of any supernatural disturbances. There were no signs of any Annihilators or any suspicious individuals in the vicinity. Mrs. Belloni… that is, our current landlady, appears to be…”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Duncan interjected, gesturing with his hand. “I asked about her home environment and living conditions, not for you to report as if you were investigating heresy. Reign in your professional habits.”

Vanna was momentarily taken aback. She quickly realized her faux pas and coughed twice to cover her embarrassment: “Ah, I apologize. I let my professional instincts overtake the conversation. Everything is indeed quite normal at their end. I only stayed there for a short while and had a fleeting interaction with Mrs. Belloni, but it was evident that they had managed to move past the haunting shadows of their past after six long years.”

“Annie is currently enrolled in a public school within the city-state, and in order to generate some income, Mrs. Belloni rents out rooms. She also undertakes some clerical jobs to supplement their household income. Furthermore, they are, after all, the family of a captain. Just like in other city-states, Frost authorities also look after the dependents of such esteemed personnel. All in all… there’s no need for you to worry about their living conditions.”

Duncan listened quietly, nodding in understanding.

Vanna hesitated for a bit, then, despite her better judgment, couldn’t help but voice her concerns, “Aren’t you worried that Annie might disclose the happenings of this place? Is it really wise? It might not be long before the cemetery caretaker discovers that you are residing openly in the city. If that were to happen, the news would surely be conveyed to the cathedral in no time, raising alarm bells for both the gatekeeper and the bishop.”

“And then what?” Duncan asked nonchalantly, his demeanor unaffected.

“Then… there could be some complications?” Vanna ventured, her confidence faltering under Duncan’s steady gaze. “The city authorities might step in…”

“And what form would their interference take? Would they dispatch a team of guardians to apprehend us?” Duncan chuckled at the thought. “Or would the gatekeeper himself come over for a chat? And why should I be worried about their reactions? Should I fret over my location being disclosed or about potential hostility from the authorities?”

Duncan shrugged nonchalantly. “I didn’t bring the Vanished here.”

Vanna opened her mouth to object, but she found herself unable to formulate a counterargument to Duncan’s casual dismissal of her concerns. After a lengthy pause, she managed to articulate, “I have a sneaking suspicion that you actually find some perverse amusement in this situation?”

“Exactly.”

Vanna was left speechless.

A grin tugged at the corner of Duncan’s mouth as he turned his attention back to the mesmerizing vista of the night outside the window. He didn’t immediately acknowledge the myriad of emotions playing out on Vanna’s face. After a few minutes of silently enjoying the nocturnal panorama, he casually observed, “Vanna, I suddenly realize that you’re becoming less and less akin to an inquisitor. Shouldn’t your primary instinct be to see the city’s church and authorities as reliable allies?”

Vanna’s mouth twitched visibly. Words bubbled up within her, aching to be expressed, but in the end, she swallowed them all down, choosing to remain silent.

Meanwhile, far from the icy clutches of Frost, a formidable fleet moved at a measured pace across the expansive, inky expanse of the Boundless Sea under cover of night. Amidst the cold fog and the ice floes that dotted their path, the fleet maintained a steady, low-speed course.

The imposing steel bow of the flagship, Sea Mist, loomed through the pitch darkness, its silhouette partially illuminated by the faint glow of navigation lights. More light spilled from the sides of the ship, casting a spectral illumination on the dark surface of the sea. In the glow, one could discern the fleeting reflections of broken ice, rising and falling with the undulating waves.

Every seafarer venturing into these freezing waters had heard the ominous adage: When the wafer-thin fog suddenly materializes, and ice rises from the mist, encircling your vessel like icy chains, brace yourself – the Sea Mist is upon you.

In this instance, the Sea Mist was indeed present, and along with it, the entire Mist Fleet had descended upon Frost’s threshold.

Perched on the bridge of the ship, Tyrian stared intently through the broad window into the endless dark distance. Frost itself was too far away to be seen directly. However, he could discern a faint glow against the backdrop of the night sky, a beacon marking the city’s location.

While the Mist Fleet’s actual destination was Dagger Island, and Tyrian himself had no plans of setting foot on Frost, the difference was negligible to the anxious inhabitants of Frost, who had been living on edge for the past fifty years. The mere sight of the “Iron Admiral’s” flag on the nearby sea was enough to send a wave of unrest through the city.

He could almost picture the frenzied flurry of activity among the city’s defenders at this moment.

The sound of footsteps broke his reverie as First Mate Aiden approached him. The sturdy, bald man wore a rather satisfied expression as he reported, “Captain, the Sea Crow and Fjord have led their escort vessels away. They are expected to reach the pre-determined location and block the route within twelve hours. The Sea Mist has lifted the light control, ensuring Frostians won’t be enjoying a peaceful night’s sleep.”

Tyrian responded with a slight nod and a hint of a smile, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding sea.

In the obsidian darkness, the vast ocean was eerily silent, save for the Sea Mist. It stood out prominently, akin to a gas lamp in the night, having lifted its light control.

Under normal circumstances, warships on night-time military missions would maintain light control to avoid exposing their location and muddling friendly signal lights. However, the Sea Mist made a bold statement, revealing its location brazenly as if to taunt the people of Frost, proudly announcing its existence.

Tyrian wasn’t the least bit concerned that this audacious display would provoke Frost Navy or lead to an accidental conflict. In this world, no force could triumph over the Sea Mist, the “living ship,” in a nocturnal battle, save for the mythical Vanished. Should Frost Navy be foolhardy enough to instigate an attack, the six other concealed warships flanking the Sea Mist would not hesitate to impart a painful lesson.

However, Tyrian’s bold posture wasn’t merely a display of defiance to stir Frostians. It was chiefly to carry out his father’s orders: To create a state of heightened anxiety in Frost, intensifying their fear and paranoia to the point where they would completely block the city, closing off all entrances and exits.

From what he had observed thus far, this objective had been accomplished. The Frost’s naval force had imposed a blockade on the port and communicated with neighboring city-states to cease all shipping activities.

Everything was unfolding as per his father’s meticulously laid plan.

Suddenly, a noise echoed from a nearby copper pipe, prompting Aiden to engage in a swift exchange with someone stationed at the other end of the tube. He returned to Tyrian with a grin, “Captain, it seems Frostians are getting fidgety – a small boat has been sighted in our vicinity.”

Tyrian’s eyebrow quirked upward in intrigue, “A small boat?”

“Yes, it appears to be unarmed and is conspicuously displaying three yellow and one white signal light, seemingly in an attempt to avoid any misunderstandings,” Aiden explained. “The boat is maintaining a cautious distance from our searchlights, seemingly endeavoring to observe without instigating any hostility or interaction.”

“Observing… that’s acceptable. They appear to be showing some restraint,” Tyrian shrugged nonchalantly. “Allow them to observe, but if they venture too close, fire a warning shot.”

“Understood, sir,” Aiden affirmed promptly. As he turned to relay the command, Tyrian halted him, “Wait.”

“Do you have further instructions?”

“Send them a light signal,” Tyrian suggested.

“A light signal?” Aiden hesitated, “What message should we convey?”

A playful grin spread across Tyrian’s face, “Message? No specific message. Just have the signalman flash the lights randomly.”

Aiden appeared puzzled, “…Excuse me?”

“Instruct the signalman to flash the lights in a random pattern,” Tyrian clarified, a gleeful twinkle in his eyes. “Give Frostian experts an intriguing puzzle to decipher. A cryptic enigma that’s been around for centuries.”

A grin spread across Aiden’s face at the suggestion, and his bald head appeared to gleam in anticipation.

“Aye, Captain!”

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