Deep Sea Embers

Lucretia instantly recognized the ship; it was her own vessel, the Bright Star, yet it belonged to an alternate timeline.

Decades earlier, during a daring voyage near the borders, Lucretia had inadvertently crossed the boundary and became “lost” on the Bright Star. At that exact moment, decades in the past, she stood aboard that ship, desperately seeking a way back to the Boundless Seas.

Sailor, clutching the wheel and sweating profusely (assuming his sweat glands still functioned), instinctively shouted, “Lady! That’s an vessel from another timeline—do not go near it! We likely got knocked out of the ‘channel’ prematurely because of its interference. Any rash contact could trap us!”

Prompted by Sailor’s warning, the crew on deck began to understand that this encounter was unlike any previous interactions, such as the one with the Sea Song in the “channel.”

The Sea Song was a ship unconnected to the Vanished or the Bright Star, and its sudden appearance at that time was just a fleeting phantom caused by temporal disturbances. However, the ship now materializing from the dense fog was indeed the Bright Star from a different timeline, a “parallel space counterpart” to their own vessel. The implications of contact between two such ships within the temporal flow were uncertain.

No scholar, even those from the Truth Academy skilled in physical and combat arts, had explored this phenomenon, but it was clear that the outcome would likely be dire.

Yet Lucretia seemed to disregard Sailor’s urgent warning. She gazed intently at the Bright Star as it drew closer through the fog. Suddenly, as if struck by a realization, she quickly surveyed her surroundings.

The illusion of the Vanished overlaid the ship, its dark wooden deck aglow with ghostly spirit fires, and translucent spirit sails billowing from the masts—all as vivid in her memory as the day it happened.

On this final journey at the edge of the world, she finally grasped the enduring mystery that even her “father” had failed to unravel.

“Don’t worry,” she spoke softly, her voice not loud, but carrying enough weight to quiet the entire deck, “We won’t meet that ship—we’ll just pass by it. Keep to our current course, sail beside it, without making any contact.”

“Okay… Just make sure that ‘you’ on that ship doesn’t suddenly come closer,” Sailor murmured softly. He didn’t challenge the “captain’s” judgment at that moment; instead, he obeyed the order, piloting their “hybrid” vessel, slowly steering alongside the Bright Star.

Tension gripped everyone on board as they observed the Bright Star emerging from the dense fog of another temporal stream. It was close enough for them to make out numerous details on its hull, spotting many variances that seemed to mark it as a “version” from decades past. They watched anxiously as the other ship momentarily slowed and faltered as if the sudden proximity to the Vanished caused a brief stir of panic. Ultimately, the two ships passed by each other without incident.

Lucretia exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

Then, in the moments after the ships had completely passed one another, the Bright Star from the alternate time stream quickly faded, vanishing like a phantom into the fog.

The convergence of the time streams had concluded.

This was the moment Lucretia had anticipated. She immediately commanded, “Turn the ship around, follow the last trace of that ship as it disappeared; that’s our direction back to the Boundless Seas.”

Sailor internally hesitated, yet his hands moved swiftly to carry out the captain’s order. As the ship began to slowly adjust its course, he turned to glance at the “sea witch”: “Lady, was that…”

“That was something that happened once, decades ago, beyond the critical boundary. The Bright Star once encountered the ‘illusion’ of the Vanished. I still remember every detail,” Lucretia nodded, “Don’t dwell on it too much; first, figure out how to leave this place.”

“It’s no use thinking too hard; my head is about to explode,” Shirley said, scratching her head. She quickly reviewed the situation in her mind, clearly overwhelmed, “So, you from decades ago got lost at the border, encountering a guiding illusion that was actually you from the future, but even your future self was lost – neither ship knew the way back, but both eventually found the right direction… What is even happening here?”

“Causality, luck, space-time, everything here is a mess,” Morris remarked, holding a seldom-lit pipe in his mouth, his voice carrying a hint of somberness, “Don’t rely too heavily on rationality when thinking about the border seas. The human brain has its limits when it comes to ‘irrationality.’ Don’t let those irrational things drive you mad.”

As the old man finished speaking, Dog grumbled under his breath nearby, “Shirley’s fine, she doesn’t overthink things, her mind is as clear as day.”

Shirley reacted to Dog’s comment by punching him on the head, resulting in a resounding ‘clang’.

Lucretia and the helmsman, immersed in their duties, paid no attention to the minor disturbance beside them. They remained sharply focused on the path ahead, guided by the direction indicated by the bow of the Bright Star, where the fog appeared to be shifting ominously.

Noticing a change, Nina looked up in concern, “Miss Lucretia, why are we slowing down now?”

Lucretia responded with calm precision, “…There’s a ‘critical change’ ahead in the fog, that marks the boundary. Crossing that line will take us into the relatively safe waters of the Eternal Veil,” she explained, her tone then growing more serious, “But there’s a problem.”

While Nina looked confused, the helmsman seemed to have already grasped the situation. He grimaced, making a grinding noise with his mouth, “Once we ‘cross’ from that point, our date of return to the Boundless Seas will be set – but that might not align with a date like 1902.”

Nina’s confusion lasted only a moment before realization dawned, and her eyes widened as she understood the helmsman’s implication.

Lucretia added gravely, “We exited the ‘channel’ too soon, and the moment we deviated from our navigation path, the surrounding time streams likely became disrupted,” she explained. “And just now, the Bright Star from decades ago appearing could indicate a shadow from another time stream intersecting our path, or it could mean we’ve inadvertently ‘entered’ the wrong time stream…”

This time, even Shirley grasped the gravity of their situation, her shock evident, “That means, if we go back now, we might end up decades ago?!”

The helmsman sighed deeply, “That would be the better scenario. Worse yet, with the time streams so jumbled, we could end up at any point in time after we cross the boundary.”

Shirley exclaimed, “…Damn…”

“Should we contact the captain?” Vanna suddenly suggested, recognizing their predicament’s gravity, “This is already beyond what was planned; maybe the captain’s authority could…”

“No, I’ve already tried,” Lucretia interrupted, shaking her head, “but I could only vaguely sense my father’s voice.” She continued, “We are still in the chaotic flux at the border, where the disordered temporal flow creates interference, and from my father’s perspective…”

She paused, then shook her head slightly again, indicating uncertainty and concern.

The crew members exchanged uneasy glances as the Bright Star continued its cautious navigation near the ‘critical line’ within the fog, moving slowly through what was deemed a ‘safer’ zone, avoiding the fog’s deeper, more perilous parts.

The path home appeared deceptively simple as if they could merely step across it—no physical barriers, no visible obstructions lay in their way. Yet, the true obstacle for the Bright Star was far more daunting than any physical barrier—it was time itself.

On the bridge, the mechanical intricacies of the ship were diligently monitored by Luni, a clockwork automaton. Tucked away in a corner, Rabbit Rabbi held tightly to the doll Nilu, barely daring to breathe. Agatha’s silhouette was faintly visible in the reflection of a nearby porthole, and the rest were gathered around the captain’s chair, creating a palpably tense atmosphere.

“If only there was a ‘guiding anchor’ from the Boundless Seas,” Morris whispered, his voice low, “even a simple piece of driftwood from the Veil would suffice.”

“The likelihood of that isn’t any greater than us crossing the boundary and landing precisely in the year 1902,” Lucretia responded, shaking her head dismissively. “We’re at the border, after all.”

Shirley rubbed her head, her voice tinged with uncertainty, “Imagine if we really ended up decades, even centuries, millennia in the past…”

She trailed off, leaving her sentence hanging in the air.

Vanna quietly echoed Shirley’s unfinished thought, “Centuries…”

“That would mean we arrived ‘too early’,” Nina quipped, sticking out her tongue playfully, “The good news would be that we could see the ‘sun’ as it was back then.”

Vanna, however, ignored Nina’s attempt at humor and looked up earnestly at Lucretia, “Miss Lucretia, how long can you survive?”

The bridge fell eerily silent. Lucretia understood the gravity of Vanna’s question and broke the silence after a moment of solemn contemplation, “I’m not certain how enduring this ‘curse’ might be, but living for a few centuries shouldn’t pose a problem.”

Morris shook his head, his tone somber, “My life is finite. Even with the aid of mechanics and wisdom, this body will eventually degrade.”

From the side, Agatha’s voice added, “Theoretically, I have no lifespan limit but without a physical form to inhabit, my existence remains precarious…”

“Shadow demons can live very long,” Vanna suddenly turned to Shirley, “At least, I’ve never heard of one dying from ‘old age’. They just need to stay hidden, especially from the church guardians of any given era…”

Shirley listened, her expression turning from blank to slowly dawning comprehension, “Ah… no way…”

“We need to prepare for the worst-case scenario,” Vanna stated firmly.

“Then consider an even grimmer possibility,” Lucretia interjected, her expression serious, “What if we didn’t arrive too early, but ‘too late’? When Father needs us, we might not have arrived yet…”

A heavy silence descended upon the group once again.

The oppressive quiet hung over the bridge, stifling conversation.

But suddenly, a ringing sound emanated from the direction of the control wheel, piercing the heavy atmosphere.

At that moment, the clockwork automaton Luni, ever vigilant at the monitoring area, exclaimed with urgency, “Lady, there’s a signal!”

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