Deep Sea Embers

Banster’s response was delivered in a manner that was undeniably clear, uncomplicated, and forthright – so much so that Lune was initially taken aback, unable to formulate a response.

“Why are you delving into all of this now?” Lune, who was rather short and plump, voiced his discontent in a grumble. “You’ve thrown so many questions at me that I was almost convinced you were planning on mothballing your Ark the moment you got back today…”

“All I’m doing is underscoring the potential dangers inherent in this situation,” Banster retorted, his facial expression remaining stoic. His face, lean and pallid, took on a grave intensity. “We’re all aware of the catastrophe that befell the Thirteen Islands of Witherland in the past – to say that the islands simply sank is a gross understatement. Essentially, a large-scale rift was forged between our world’s reality and subspace over there, leaving that sea volatile to this day. And those leviathans…”

“Banster, they’re safe,” Lune interjected, his demeanor composed. His eyes were a brilliant blue, seeming to radiate a gentle, calming wisdom. “I’m not some deranged academic who would thoughtlessly introduce border relics into our civilized society. The leviathan ‘corpses’ were subjected to a decade of rigorous scrutiny and testing in the proving grounds of the Truth Academy. It was only after all the unstable elements were thoroughly vetted and eliminated that I elected to repurpose them into the sacred Arks of our churches.”

There was a pause, and Banster fell into a contemplative silence. It wasn’t until roughly ten seconds later that Frem shattered the quietude, saying, “Regardless of the circumstances, we were compelled to construct the ‘Arks.’ Lune did take some risks, but without the creation of those Arks, we would likely have lost all contact with our Four Gods.”

In the midst of the bleak, tumultuous void, the quartet of figures collectively fell quiet.

“At times, I can’t help but ponder… Could those four leviathans that emerged along the eastern frontier be some form of divine providence?”

Lune shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Without those leviathans, the Truth Academy would’ve been incapable of building the Arks. Back then, all our other options appeared bleak and unlikely to succeed…”

“My friends, I confess that I have indeed withheld many details regarding the leviathans. But I hope you can all appreciate that it was due to the dire circumstances of a border collapse.”

“When I handed over the Ark in the past, I urged you to avoid delving into ‘their’ origins and instead embrace it as a miracle.”

“A divine gift,” Banster murmured slowly, “I sincerely wish I hadn’t heard that. It feels akin to a gory offering, the countless souls of the Thirteen Islands of Witherland sacrificed to that ship, culminating in the creation of the four Arks that exist today.”

“That’s not entirely accurate. There’s no concrete evidence to suggest that the emergence of the ‘leviathan’ is the handiwork of the ‘Vanished.’ Rather, it’s merely a reflection of the interconnected nature of our world, where certain events happen to coincide with others,” Lune offered in a soothing tone. “As for that ship, it has already returned to the Boundless Sea. Regardless of your personal feelings, its master has reclaimed his human essence. The Vanished’s warning bears a striking similarity to the ‘Border Collapse’ vision, unearthed by Captain Duncan a century ago – a dire prophecy that, as I frequently emphasize, we must confront and take to heart.”

“Truth doesn’t bend to accommodate individual perspectives, for it is timeless,” Banster remarked dismissively with a wave of his hand. “Believe me, I have heard you expound on these matters to the point of exhaustion.

Helena cast a glance at Lune, then at Banster. After a moment’s hesitation, she suggested, “Banster, if you’re still wrestling with doubts, why not engage Captain Duncan in a direct conversation? Gauge his current outlook, and perhaps even clarify the truth about what happened at the Thirteen Islands of Witherland all those years ago. Even though he claims to have lost his memory now, a personal interaction with him might…”

Before she could complete her thought, Banster promptly cut her off with an emphatic wave of his hand. “Helena, of all your outlandish propositions, this one surpasses them all.

…..

Once swallowed by an impenetrable darkness, the vast ocean swiftly recouped its original state, shedding the terrifying shadows and regaining its tranquil aura. The chaotic shadows that had been wreaking havoc across the sky yielded to the commanding sunlight, paving the way for the sky and sea to regain their vivid, warm, and tranquil demeanor. The eerie green flame that had been omnipresent across the ship receded into obscurity as the vessel made its retreat from the spiritual dimension.

In the wake of this transformation, Goathead, without missing a beat, assumed command of the steering wheel, adjusting the ship’s velocity to a leisurely cruising speed.

“Captain, Captain, have we docked at the southern lands?” Alice, bubbling with youthful exuberance, asked as soon as she saw Duncan relinquishing control of the ship.

Duncan looked at her, somewhat amused, and replied, “How could we have traversed such a vast expanse so swiftly? Do you realize the immense distance separating Frost from Wind Harbor?”

Puzzled, Alice scratched her head and said, “Ah, I noticed you slowing down the ship and the Vanished pulling out of the spiritual realm. I presumed we’d reached our destination…”

Duncan responded in his typical, laid-back tone, “We’ve re-entered the physical world to change our surroundings. Extended journeys in the spiritual realm can be harmful to both physical and mental health. We do have several normal humans aboard this ship…”

He abruptly trailed off mid-sentence, then shook his head dismissively, “Coming back to the physical world, feeling the sea breeze against our skin, soaking up the sunlight – these things help ease the strain of long voyages. Also, the Vanished itself needs some time to recover.”

“True,” Alice slowly nodded in agreement, a satisfied smile illuminating her face, “everyone seems so much more at ease back in the sunlight. All their tension appears to have just melted away.”

Duncan realized that the “everyone” Alice was referring to were actually the ship’s inanimate objects – buckets, ropes, pots, and pans. He marveled at the strange connection Alice had forged with the ship’s sentient objects over time, and her uncanny ability to detect their “emotions”. But all these were constructive evolutions.

“Goathead will be steering the ship later while I take a breather,” Duncan informed Alice, “Our dinner menu for tonight includes toasted bread, fish fillets, and a hearty vegetable soup.”

“Ah, yes, Captain!” Alice responded enthusiastically. She then glanced towards the setting sun, its glorious rays reflecting off the two mystical rune rings faintly visible at the sea’s horizon.

“I’ll get started on the meal prep then.” She announced, swiftly turning on her heels and dashing towards the ship’s kitchen.

Duncan stood watching Alice’s retreating figure, a content smile tugging at his lips as she disappeared behind the cabin door at the far end of the deck.

He then took a moment to draw a shallow breath, pivoted, and began walking towards the door located at the opposite end of the deck – The Door of the Lost.

His gaze skimmed over the mysterious inscriptions carved into the door. Placing his hand on the cold metal handle, he pushed the door open with a gentle force.

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