The mont Lucretia took the delicate hairpin from his hands, Duncan felt a profound relaxation deep within his heart.
It was a sensation located in an imperceptible corner of his soul, a feeling impossible to articulate with re words. It felt as though a long-delayed mission was finally complete. Even if his physical body had forgotten what that mission was, a sigh still echoed from the sentints ingrained deep in his spirit.
“I hope you like it,” Duncan spoke after a brief pause, his voice gentle. “I’ve forgotten many things, but I rember that this hairpin was ant for you.”
“I heard from Tyrian,” Lucretia nodded, and at so point, she felt the hesitation and anxiety that had been weighing on her for days dissolve. Even though she had communicated with her father via a crystal ball in the past, it was apparent that only a real-life eting could alleviate those worries. “Regardless, it’s good that you’ve returned ‘to this side’.”
Duncan nodded in agreent, then shifted his gaze towards the elven scholar who had been trying to keep a low profile from a distance.
“Master Taran El,” Duncan said with a soft smile, attempting to sound approachable, “Here we are, eting again in the real world. I’m delighted to see you safe and sound. There’s much I’d like to discuss with you.”
“No… No need for formalities,” Taran El hastily waved his hands dismissively, “Just call by my na. I’ve admired you for a long ti, the great explorer Captain Duncan. I an, when you were… alive… when you were still human… I…”
As Taran El stumbled over his words, Duncan silently observed him while Lucretia quietly pulled out a wand that resembled a magician’s stick, pointing it directly at Taran El’s nose.
“Frog or snake?” she said in a calm voice, hinting at a nacing undertone.
Taran El raised both his hands in a surrendering gesture, looking pleadingly at Duncan, “What I ant was, a century ago, I began admiring your reputation, but unfortunately, we never had the chance to et.”
Duncan couldn’t help but laugh at the amusing character of the elven scholar, “Is that the truth?”
“Absolutely,” Taran El said earnestly, “As a scholar deeply interested in the frontier, I’ve always wanted to connect with genuine explorers, to learn about the world beyond our civilization from them. I’ve even dread of embarking on a journey to explore the great veil barrier myself. Unfortunately, such a grand adventure is beyond my reach…”
“It’s alright. Now you have a chance to get to know better,” Duncan replied with a nod. But as if he suddenly recalled sothing, he turned to Lucretia and said, “Oh, I have sothing else for you.”
Lucretia looked confused for a mont. Then, as she watched, Duncan raised his hand in a summoning gesture. The flaming portal that had appeared on the deck earlier hadn’t vanished. With Duncan’s motion, it expanded rapidly, and a cavity seed to form within the swirling flas. After a brief eruption and fade, a large wooden crate appeared on the deck.
Perched atop the crate was a fluffy, white-feathered dove.
The dove, nad Ai, tilted its head. One eye looked at Lucretia, while the other seed to be glancing elsewhere. “Hey, please accept your delivery and give a five-star rating, okay?”
Lucretia stared at the scene, puzzled by the talking dove. Her eyes then drifted to a tal plaque on the side of the crate.
“This is the spirit lens Tyrian prepared for you—of the highest quality,” Duncan pointed to the crate, “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
“Ah, no… I haven’t,” Lucretia’s eyes shifted slightly, hinting at her embarrassnt. She quickly changed the subject, pointing at the dove who strutted confidently on the crate, “Is this ‘Ai’ my brother ntioned? And what did she an by ‘five-star rating’?”
“Don’t mind that. Most people can’t understand the dove’s way of speaking,” Duncan waved it off. He gestured for Ai to land on his shoulder and signaled Lucretia to lead the way, “Leave the lens on the deck for now. Handle it later. Let’s find a place to discuss matters.”
“Alright.”
Led by Lucretia, Duncan, and Taran El made their way to a “reception room” located in the middle section of the deck.
It was a spacious upper cabin with large windows close to the side of the ship. Through these windows, visitors could observe the ship’s side power structure and its ethereal tail section, which seed always cloaked in mist.
Approaching the window, Duncan curiously examined the exterior view, studying the unique characteristics of this ship, which, though different from the design of the Vanished, bore an equally eerie vibe. He was especially intrigued by its ghostly tail end. After a while, he remarked, “This ship looks nothing like the Sea Mist.”
Upon hearing Duncan’s casual “review,” Lucretia’s expression beca slightly uneasy. “It’s been a long ti, and both the Sea Mist and the Bright Star… have evolved considerably from your original designs. To survive in the ‘borderlands’, I’ve made many bold modifications to this ship. I hope you’re not upset about that.”
“Change is natural and can be beneficial,” Duncan replied with a smile. “The Vanished has also undergone many alterations. If you were to see it now, you’d be quite surprised by its current state.”
Step aboard the Vanished? For a mont, Lucretia appeared to be lost in thought, perhaps recalling distant mories or perhaps thinking of her brother, who had boarded the Vanished several tis and intermittently contacted her, occasionally startling her.
She quickly snapped back to reality and nodded at Duncan, “I’ll… visit it.”
She then raised her head slightly and called out louder towards the door, “Luni, you can co in now.”
The door opened, and to Duncan’s curious gaze, a clockwork doll, bearing a striking resemblance to Lucretia but made entirely of tal, ceramic, and leather, entered, pushing a trolley laden with drinks and snacks.
As the gentle sound of gears turning accompanied her, the clockwork doll approached the table and gave Duncan a slight bow, “It’s a pleasure to see you, old master.”
“You must be Luni?” Duncan couldn’t help but examine the intriguing doll more closely, “I found your ‘sister’ Nilu in Pland’s doll shop. To be honest, the two of you are quite different.”
“When you first saw , I was just a simple three-part doll,” Luni replied politely, her internal chanisms producing soft ticking and clacking sounds. “Back then, I couldn’t think or speak. It was my mistress who gave life.”
“Incredible technology,” Duncan remarked, looking at Lucretia. “However, I now have a ‘doll’ aboard my ship that can think and speak. Perhaps Luni and she could beco friends.”
“I’m aware. My brother told about Anomaly 099,” Lucretia nodded, “Luni is indeed curious about Miss ‘Alice’, but… is she truly safe?”
“Perfectly safe,” Duncan assured, waving his hand dismissively, “Of all things aboard the Vanished, she’s the most harmless. Even a bucket could overpower her…”
Lucretia looked puzzled.
The young witch slowly began to grasp what her father ant when he earlier ntioned, “The Vanished has also undergone many changes”…
At this mont, Duncan finally shifted his attention to Taran El.
Under the elf scholar’s nervous gaze, Duncan adjusted his posture and asked with a serious expression, “In your elvish legends or traditional beliefs, is there any ntion of the term ‘Dream of the Naless One’?”
Taran El blinked in confusion, “Dream of the Naless One?”
Realization then dawned upon him, “Are you referring to the dream I was trapped in before? Are you suggesting… that dream has a na, called the ‘Dream of the Naless One’?”
“If the information is correct, that’s what it’s called.”
Duncan confidently confird this and proceeded to share all the intelligence he had acquired, albeit through so “coercive thods,” from a group of cultists. He laid out everything, including the possible role that the Enderss might play in the shadows and even his own speculations. He even shared his prior discussions with Agatha, withholding nothing.
As Duncan narrated, Taran El gradually forgot his initial anxiety and beca deeply engrossed. Even Lucretia, sitting beside him, leaned slightly forward, her face occasionally revealing a contemplative expression.
This information, although obtained from heretics, sounded dangerous and tantalizing for a scholar passionate about research. It might be closely related to blasphemous heretical teachings, but behind them seed to hint at certain hidden knowledge and mysteries.
Once Duncan concluded his exposition, an extended silence enveloped the room. The two scholars present were deeply engrossed in their thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, Lucretia finally broke the silence, “Is this information reliable? I’m not doubting you, but these cultists are notoriously cunning. Even church inquisitors, experts in dealing with heretics, often struggle to extract information from such individuals.”
“It’s reliable,” Duncan assured with confidence in his tone, “I employed so highly effective interrogation techniques. Ah, would you like a detailed account of the process?”
Both Lucretia and Taran El were taken aback, and without hesitation, they simultaneously shook their heads.
“Alright then,” Duncan seed slightly disappointed, “What are your thoughts now? Mr. Taran El, any speculations on this so-called ‘Dream of the Naless One’?”
After pondering for a few monts, Taran El carefully responded, “In all of our elvish tales and traditions, there’s no ntion of this term. At least, I can assert that this term doesn’t originate from the elvish language. However, if we focus on the concept of ‘dreams’… our race does indeed have nurous tales related to it.”
Duncan imdiately showed interest, “Oh?”
“Have you ever heard of… the Great Demon God, Saslokha?”
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