Deep Sea Embers

Sailor had recently become a unique addition to the inhabitants of the “Witch’s Mansion,” though his presence seemed to barely ripple through the daily life within the mansion’s walls.

Unlike any ordinary person, Sailor had the peculiar ability to remain stationary for extended periods, much like a mummified corpse. He required neither sustenance nor sleep. If left unaddressed, he might spend days without uttering a single word, often found in his secluded corner, lost in thought or staring blankly into space, giving the impression he was in a perpetual state of contemplation or disconnection from his surroundings.

This unusual behavior almost led the other residents to occasionally forget the presence of an extra occupant within the mansion.

Interaction between Sailor and others was minimal, with the exception of Luni. Their exchanges were brief and functional, mainly consisting of simple requests and responses such as, “Ah, could you shift a bit to the side?” followed by a quiet “Yeah.” Once the task was completed, “Alright, you can move back now,” would be met with a nonchalant “Oh.”

As days turned into a routine, a curious incident occurred on the third day that prompted Lucretia, the mansion’s mistress, to confront Sailor. She found him in the basement storage room, sprawled amidst various items, mimicking a corpse. She expressed her bafflement, recounting tales from her father about Sailor’s once vibrant and active demeanor aboard the White Oak, questioning why he had adopted such a subdued presence in her home.

In response, Sailor, while maintaining his position among the clutter, locked eyes with Lucretia in the dim light and posed a question, “Is it bad to seek calm?” He suggested that his calmness was intentional, hinting at a preference for peace and quiet, possibly shared by Lucretia herself.

Lucretia attempted to articulate her thoughts but was swiftly interrupted by Sailor’s revelation. He explained his current state as a form of preparation, conserving energy for an upcoming, significant journey that seemed to be in the planning stages. Despite the captain’s silence on the matter, Sailor was convinced of the impending voyage and had been instructed to rest and attempt to recollect anything related to the Sea Song.

Curious, Lucretia inquired about his recollections, to which Sailor shared vague memories of life aboard the Sea Song—highlighting the disorder, the noise from the crew during the second shift, and an endless omnipresent fog. He concluded, somewhat apologetically, that despite the captain’s confidence, he had yet to remember anything specific about the ‘route’ they were to undertake.

It was a bold move to exhibit such a lackadaisical attitude in the presence of the Sea Witch. Her eyebrows arched in a reflex of surprise at Sailor’s audacity, but she quickly masked her reaction, resuming her typically impassive demeanor, “Father always has his methods.”

Sailor, sprawled amid the mess, nonchalantly smacked his lips before abruptly shifting the conversation, “What about you? Is your Bright Star ready to set sail?”

Lucretia offered no verbal response, her expression tightening into a frown.

Observing her closely, Sailor noted, “You’re still resistant. I can see your hesitation,” his voice calm yet carrying an underlying seriousness, “I somewhat understand what you’re resisting… but please, be prepared. This voyage might turn out to be the greatest in history, perhaps even the last. This time, at least, you have the choice to embark alongside your father…”

His words prompted a silent but intense stare from Lucretia, compelling Sailor to halt his speech.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

He pondered briefly, “…I’ve been here three days, and only today have I spoken this much… alright, I’ll hold my tongue.”

Lucretia watched him silently for a moment longer before redirecting her attention towards the door, stating, “The Bright Star is always ready for a long voyage.”

However, as she initiated her departure, Sailor halted her, “Hey, wait a moment, there’s one more thing…”

Curiosity piqued, Lucretia turned back, inquiring, “What is it?”

“Could you help me reconnect my spine and shoulder…” he continued, his posture still lax in the heap of clutter, evidently having dislocated a joint during his earlier lazy stretch.

Lucretia’s face subtly shifted as she regarded him, but then she decisively turned and exited without offering assistance, “Just lie there.”

…

The scene transitions to Duncan, who paused his writing to glance towards the window. Despite the darkness outside, the bright indoor light bathed the study. Alice sat quietly by the window, the light gently illuminating her, her eyes nearly closed as if on the brink of sleep.

Her attention snapped to Duncan as he observed her from his desk, her face lighting up with a smile, “Captain! Have you finished writing?”

Alice’s curiosity was apparent when approaching Duncan, even though she knew she couldn’t decipher the contents of the captain’s diary on the desk.

“I’m done. If you’re tired, you don’t need to stay here on my account. Go rest in your room.” Duncan answered.

“I’m not tired!” Alice quickly responded, her eyes momentarily caught by the cryptic entries in the captain’s diary, “Is this your diary? Uh… I can’t understand a single word…”

Duncan offered a warm smile, choosing not to delve into the intricacies of diary writing but instead posed a simple question, “Do you want to try writing a diary?”

Alice, caught off guard by the suggestion, hesitated before responding, “Me? I don’t even know where to begin… I’m not sure what to write about, and doesn’t it require a vast vocabulary?”

Her concerns were met with Duncan’s laughter, an encouragement in its melody, “You just write about anything that feels important or captures your interest. A diary isn’t about showcasing a vast vocabulary; the words you already know are sufficient. And if words fail you, why not express yourself through drawings?”

As Alice absorbed his words, her initial hesitation transformed into enthusiasm, “I can draw!” she exclaimed with a newfound joy.

Her declaration of artistic ability was modest, to say the least. Duncan had taught her the basics of drawing, enabling her to produce simple sketches that could be recognized as either a man, a woman, a person, or perhaps Dog. Despite the simplicity of her skills, she held a proud belief in her ability to “draw.”

Seeing her excitement, Duncan reached into his desk, retrieving a brand-new diary and a pencil, which he then offered to Alice, “This is for you, a little something I brought back from the ship. It’s a place for you to keep the memories you cherish.”

Alice’s delight was palpable as she accepted the diary, eagerly flipping through its blank pages before settling down next to the desk, poised to write. However, curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, “Why do you suddenly want me to start a diary?”

Duncan paused, taken aback by the question. After a moment’s reflection, he shared his rationale, “We’re on the cusp of a journey to places far and unknown, where we’re bound to experience a myriad of sights and events. Memories can be elusive, and to ensure you don’t lose sight of the journey’s essence, it’s wise to anchor them in writing.”

Alice seemed to grasp the significance of his words, showing a flicker of comprehension before nodding earnestly. She then focused on the diary, inscribing “Alice’s Diary” on its title page with a level of seriousness that marked the significance of the moment.

“Look, I’m done!” she declared, showcasing her work to Duncan. The letters were uneven but represented the best of her efforts since Duncan had taught her to read and write.

“Excellent,” Duncan commended with a smile, adding a gentle reminder, “Just remember, diaries are usually private. It’s important to keep them to yourself…”

Alice gestured towards Duncan’s diary with a puzzled face, “But you showed me yours.”

Caught in a moment of contradiction, Duncan’s face stiffened slightly as he explained, “…That’s because I’m aware you can’t decipher the contents.”

Feeling puzzled, Alice scratched her head and glanced down at her new diary with a mixture of uncertainty and concern, “Is it also not okay for you to see it?”

Duncan responded firmly, “Not okay,” emphasizing the privacy of a diary. However, seeing Alice’s troubled and somewhat disheartened look, he softened his stance, suggesting, “But if there’s something you really want to share with me, feel free to. Apart from that, I won’t peek; your secrets are your own.”

This reassurance brought a smile back to Alice’s face, “Okay!”

Duncan couldn’t help feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation at the situation, but he was glad to see Alice’s mood lift, which in turn lightened his own spirits.

Alice, not dwelling too deeply on the complexities of human emotions, was simply glad to see the captain in a better mood. She then changed the subject, her curiosity piqued about their upcoming journey, “Captain, are we heading to the border next?”

Duncan was caught off guard by her question.

Alice quickly clarified, “Miss Vanna told me,” eager to explain her source. “She mentioned we’re leaving in a few days and that we need to stock up on plenty of food and water because where we’re going might be very special…”

Acknowledging her information, Duncan confirmed, “Yes, it’s going to be a place unlike any other… a place I’m not entirely sure of myself, what it looks like, or what awaits us there.”

“Further than the Holy Island we visited before?”

“Much further than that.”

Alice’s “Oh~” was drawn out, her mind trying to grasp the concept of a destination even more distant and unknown than the Holy Island, but finding it difficult to visualize.

Duncan looked at Alice with intrigue, expecting perhaps a hint of worry or apprehension, but found none in her clear, untroubled gaze.

“Aren’t you scared?” he asked, probing for any sign of fear regarding the uncertainties of their expedition.

But Alice simply shook her head with conviction, dismissing any notion of fear.

Duncan decided to paint a grimmer picture to test her resolve further: “We could get lost beyond the border, face anomalies in time, and despite our best preparations, it might take a long time to return… if we can return at all.”

Yet, Alice’s response was to shake her head again, this time breaking into a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring us back.”

“You? Bring us back?” Duncan couldn’t hide his astonishment and a touch of skepticism.

“Yes!” Alice’s confidence was unwavering.

“And how do you plan to do that?” Duncan asked, already anticipating her answer.

“I don’t know!” she replied cheerfully, without a hint of doubt.

Duncan was left speechless, looking at Alice, who radiated a bizarre confidence despite her confusion.

However, as he continued to observe her, his expression of bemusement gradually blended with a thoughtful gaze, as if Alice’s unfounded confidence had sparked a new train of thought, mingling his helplessness with contemplation…

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