Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 743: Another Core

Vanna had to leave; despite her divine blessings, she too required time to rest and recuperate at this moment.

Duncan observed her departure from the captain’s quarters intently, not shifting his gaze until she was completely out of sight beyond the doorway. Once she was gone, he shifted his attention to Goathead, who was sitting silently on the edge of the navigation table. “What’s your take on the secrets Gomona revealed to Vanna?”

After a moment of silence, Goathead spoke, “It appears that the catastrophic collapse and eventual disintegration of the sun is a calamity the Four Gods anticipated would occur sooner or later.” He paused, indicating he had been waiting for an opportunity to discuss this, “It seems they’ve been aware of this impending disaster for over ten thousand years! When the Nether Lord was laying the foundations of our world, he sought their counsel. Yet, throughout the Deep Sea Era, they remained silent about the core issue. Understandably, this information would cause widespread panic, not just among a handful of city-states but even the popes were kept oblivious. And now, we’re witnessing the beginning of the sun’s disintegration…”

Before Goathead could continue, Duncan quickly placed his hand over the wooden sculpture’s mouth to stop him from speaking further: “I regret asking you now.”

With Duncan’s hand covering his mouth, Goathead’s muffled attempts at speaking were accompanied by his obsidian eyes, set in a wooden face, darting around more expressively than usual.

Duncan let out a sigh and removed his hand, steering the conversation towards a different aspect of Gomona’s revelations, “I was more interested in the latter part of what was revealed… ‘They’ wish to communicate with me. What do you think their intentions are? And how do you think they will approach me?”

Goathead, now speaking more cautiously, responded, “I’m not sure. They’re not planning on persuading you to take on some new burden, are they?”

Duncan didn’t answer, his mind occupied with deep thoughts for a long moment.

“The situation with ‘Them’ sounds dire. Before, Gomona was able to send fragments of information directly to him, but now, communication can only be made through Vanna and it’s tainted with this… contamination.”

He glanced up at the oval mirror hanging on the wall. Under his intense gaze, a layer of mystical flames appeared, turning the mirror’s surface to pitch black. Slowly, images began to form in the darkness, illuminated by flickers of light and shadow.

The figure of Tyrian appeared within the mirror, his expression grave. The background suggested he was near the port, illuminated by a surreal golden light that resembled a sunset soaked in mist, clearly indicating these were no ordinary conditions, “Father,” he began, his tone serious, “I apologize for the sudden interruption…”

“It’s alright,” Duncan responded, his voice soft yet carrying a hint of concern, “What’s the matter? You look worried.”

Tyrian continued, “…Our scholars have managed to enter the luminous geometric object that crashed in Frost. Following the information previously provided by Lucretia, we were able to locate its core. However, the object we found… it’s not consistent with the data. I believe you need to see this for yourself.”

“Different?” Duncan’s expression grew concerned as he picked up on the severity of Tyrian’s tone. He nodded in understanding, “I’ll make my way there shortly.”

After ending the communication with Tyrian, a sense of urgency took over Duncan. He glanced outside, where the view from the graveyard caretaker’s cabin window was serene, with delicate snowflakes gently descending. The fading sunlight draped a soft, ethereal glow over the snow-covered landscape, painting a picture of peaceful solitude.

Inside the cabin, the ambiance was warm; the stove emitted a comforting crackling sound, and the tea kettle on it started to whistle sharply as the water reached a boil, sending steam curling into the air.

Duncan rose from his seat, adjusted the stove, and retrieved his black-edged hat from near the doorway. He donned the hat, smoothed his black coat, and exited the cabin into the quiet of the graveyard.

Two young guardians, clad in black and tending to the graveyard’s pathways and lights, halted and turned towards him. The sight of Duncan, a silent figure wrapped in bandages and exuding an imposing aura, prompted them to stand erect and salute.

Acknowledging their gesture, Duncan then snapped his fingers, summoning a skeletal giant bird wreathed in ethereal flames. The creature closed the gap between them instantly and perched on his shoulder.

“Fuel up, let’s go!” At Duncan’s command, Ai, the skeletal bird, screeched sharply and transformed into a blazing ring of fire that enveloped them both. Together, they ascended into the sky, heading for the port area…

In the eastern sector of Frost, the port was still bathed in a massive golden radiance. This crystalline and pervasive light quietly infused everything it touched with a bright yet soft, unsettling glow.

Aiden, a tall, once pirate now adorned in Frost Navy uniform, stood amidst his crew, a figure of authority yet visibly anxious under the golden light.

Despite his efforts to appear composed and reliable in front of his team, his unease was palpable when he spoke with Tyrian, “Is this ‘light’ truly benign?” he questioned, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation, “It’s as though it’s enveloping me, seeping into my very skin, making every breath feel laden…”

Tyrian faced Aiden, responding with a mix of seriousness and jest, “Firstly, considering your lungs are riddled with at least seven holes, I wonder what else you’ve been inhaling,” he quipped, “Secondly, we’ve confirmed the safety of these ‘lights’. Lucretia has been investigating similar phenomena in Wind Harbor for some time.”

Aiden, still troubled, remarked, “But the object that landed here is unlike the one in Wind Harbor. There, the ‘core’ was merely a stone sphere…”

The undead commander, who had earned Tyrian’s trust for a century, gave a nod, his bald head catching the light and shining brilliantly under the golden glow, almost distracting in its brilliance.

Catching the reflection off Aiden’s head, Tyrian subtly shifted to the side, preparing to elaborate further. However, he paused, sensing someone approaching.

Just then, a deep, slightly raspy voice cut through the air, directed at Tyrian and Aiden: “Are you suggesting that the object that landed here isn’t a ‘stone ball’?”

In an instant, a silent but vivid green flame erupted, and from it, Duncan emerged. He walked past the surprised faces of guards and staff members, making a beeline towards Tyrian and Aiden.

Aiden, taken aback for a moment, quickly regained his composure and stepped forward with a respectful bow, “Old Captain…”

The intense golden light briefly overwhelmed Duncan’s vision, prompting him to subtly sidestep to avoid the glare off Aiden’s polished scalp.

“Father,” Tyrian greeted him with a mixture of surprise and relief, “I wasn’t expecting you to get here so quickly.”

Dismissing formalities with a wave of his hand, Duncan expressed his eagerness, “I was drawn by the ‘special situation’ you mentioned. There’s no time to delay. Let’s discuss the details on the move. What exactly are we dealing with?”

As they moved, Tyrian tried to encapsulate the perplexity of their discovery, “Describing it won’t do it justice; it’s unlike anything we’ve encountered… Even our most esteemed scholars are puzzled. It’s spherical, yes, but its surface… it’s indescribable, constantly shifting as if alive, and it emits a soft, whistling noise… You’ll understand when you see it.”

Duncan, absorbing the details without interruption, picked up his pace.

They navigated through the encompassing pale golden glow that blanketed the port, weaving through docks and over bridges, until they reached the coastline. The area was deserted, evacuated in haste, with barricades cordoning off the dock from the rest of the city. At the heart of the anomaly, at a particular section of the port’s coastline, was the center of the luminous geometric body.

From a bird’s-eye view, this anomalous luminous structure enveloped about a third of the city-state’s perimeter, like a bizarre, glowing edifice that had taken root at Frost’s edge, casting a surreal light over the vast sea as evening approached.

Guided by Tyrian and Aiden, Duncan approached the core of this mysterious vision. There, suspended a short distance from the shore, a spherical object hovered around ten meters across, with makeshift scaffolding surrounding it and a few workers moving about.

Pointing towards the enigmatic sphere, Tyrian highlighted, “As you can see… It’s not at all stone-like.” The surface of the sphere seemed alive, its constant motion giving it an unsettling, almost eerie, appearance.

“Of course it’s not a rock…” Duncan clarified, lifting his gaze with an expression that quickly shifted from initial surprise to a more complex blend of resignation and nuanced feelings. He stared intently at the object in question, his mouth moving almost imperceptibly as he prepared to answer Tyrian’s query.

“What we’re looking at is, in fact, a gas planet,” he explained, his voice soft yet filled with a certain depth.

Tyrian, puzzled by the term, repeated it with a hint of confusion, “A gas planet? What exactly does that mean?”

Duncan didn’t rush to answer. Instead, he paused, giving the floating object a thorough examination before he deliberately walked closer, positioning himself directly beneath the hovering sphere. He gazed upwards, deeply absorbed in studying its surface features.

The planet’s surface was adorned with a metallic sheen, highlighted by the slow, graceful movement of its cloud bands. These bands painted a vivid picture of flowing “cloud streams” that wrapped around the planet, punctuated by small whirlpools and storms meandering through the cloud layers in a slow, yet awe-inspiring dance.

Approaching the planet, Duncan could faintly hear the whistling sound Tyrian had mentioned earlier. This sound, originating from the depths of the planet, hinted at a time long past, when the planet was vibrant with activity. Back then, the whistling could have been thunderous, possibly even strong enough to shatter a small celestial body. In those days, the planet was immense, its vast clouds and mist capable of enveloping thousands of Boundless Seas.

Now, however, reduced to a mere ten meters in diameter, the “star” could only emit a soft, almost inaudible whimper, a shadow of its former majesty.

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