As soon as Duncan regained consciousness, everyone quickly converged around him, eager to hear what he had experienced. The eerie, soft glow of a ghostly green fla, which seed almost alive in its gentle ripple, was still visible, nestled within the creases of the shroud surrounding him. With a slight blink, Duncan managed to quell the fla, preventing it from fully engulfing the shroud in its ethereal fire. He took a brief mont to collect his thoughts, piecing together the vision he had just witnessed before his eyes landed on the mummy.
Sailor stood at a cautious distance, yet its curiosity got the better of it as it seed to lean forward slightly, its deanor a mix of hesitation and intrigue.
With a blend of concern and curiosity etching her youthful face, Nina approached Duncan. “Uncle Duncan, what did you see?” she asked, her voice tinged with an earnest need for answers, gently tugging at his arm.
Opting for transparency, Duncan responded without any attempt at evasion, “…Captain Caraline’s mories,” his voice soft yet clear. “It showed what happened after the Sea Song was lost at sea and how they managed to find their way back ho…”
At the ntion of these events, Sailor’s interest was visibly piqued, and it edged closer to the group, drawn in by the narrative unfolding.
Withholding no details, Duncan recounted everything revealed to him in the vision. Upon concluding his tale, all eyes instinctively turned towards Sailor, who had subtly moved to stand beside the coffee table by now.
Caught in the mont, Anomaly 077 was montarily absorbed in the story until Duncan ntioned Captain Caraline entrusting him with the route to the outer world. This revelation caught him off-guard, causing his deanor to shift abruptly as he took a step back, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Hey, don’t look at , I don’t know anything about the route, what route… I’m clueless!” he protested, his hands gesturing his ignorance.
Helena, skepticism evident in her expression, pressed him, “You don’t know?” She was puzzled. “Captain Caraline said she entrusted that route to you… Do you not rember anything?”
“I don’t!” His response was a mix of confusion and a hint of panic, his arms spread wide in a gesture of complete bewildernt. “I vaguely rember sothing about the log… But, honestly, I can barely recall my own journey back!”
Frem, the tall and usually silent orc, studied him for a mont before posing his question, “Then what else do you rember? After returning to the Boundless Sea, do you not have any other more vivid mories?”
This prompted Sailor to think deeply until a mont of realization struck him. “Yes, I rember waking up in a box, with two individuals draped in blue and black robes sprinkling bone dust and spices over . And there was another, as big as you, Frem, poised to seal the coffin with inside. I resisted, and in response, he struck with a hamr blow. The next thing I knew, it was 1864.”
The revelation hung in the air, leaving a brief silence in the room, punctuated by an awkward atmosphere. Alice, seemingly unfazed by the tension, leaned in with genuine interest, “Ah, then what happened?” Her question broke the brief lull, her curiosity undimd.
Following Sailor’s recount of waking up to a second hamr blow in 1901, the mood in the living room shifted as everyone exchanged knowing looks. Helena let out a cough to break the tension, and with a helpless shrug, Duncan signaled a mutual desire to steer the conversation away from these unsettling tales of resurrection and hamring.
Undeterred by the awkward atmosphere, Alice’s curiosity remained piqued. She leaned in closer to Sailor, her voice tinged with genuine intrigue, “Hey, how did you know it was 1864? Weren’t you just knocked unconscious when you woke up?”
Sailor explained that he had later asked Captain Lawrence, who inford him that historical records ntioned only that one incident where he nearly lost control completely. He added, “Besides, I actually woke up several tis, but those mories are a blur…”
Alice, ever so interested, inquired about his sleep quality, to which he replied, “Not bad, the chanting was never too loud. Though now, I spend half my ti out of the box since the captain gave a bed…”
Their exchange, veering into an oddly casual chat about sleeping arrangents, was abruptly interrupted by Duncan, who felt compelled to steer the conversation back to the pressing matter at hand. Clearing his throat, he interjected, “Ahem, now is not the ti for this.”
With the room’s attention back on him, Sailor ceased his banter.
Duncan then addressed Anomaly 077 directly, acknowledging Sailor’s forgotten mories regarding the ‘route’ but also suggesting that what Captain Caraline recorded in her log held equal weight. “The ‘route’ might not have been sothing you were simply supposed to rember. Captain Caraline’s words, ‘entrusted the route to you,’ suggest she might have passed on this information in a more tangible form, anticipating that there might co a day when re mory wouldn’t suffice.”
Duncan’s theory suggested that just as Captain Caraline’s log had traversed boundaries in a tangible form, she might have employed a similar thod to ensure the ‘route’ remained with Sailor unaffected by any alterations to mory or self-awareness. “This ‘route’ could still exist with you, in a form we’ve yet to comprehend,” he concluded, hinting at a mystery deeply intertwined with Sailor’s own being and possibly hidden within the enigmatic shroud or another form entirely, waiting to be discovered.
As Sailor absorbed Duncan’s hypothesis, a flicker of acceptance crossed his face, tempered by skepticism. “…Could Captain Caraline really have implented such a thod? I always assud her log’s transformation was an unintended mishap… She was, after all, only human…”
Helena interjected with a perspective that lent the conversation a deeper significance, “But she once stood before our Lord,” her voice cutting through the silence with a hint of reverence. “Any human who has looked into the face of a god… can scarcely be deed ordinary anymore.”
This assertion left Sailor speechless, contemplating the weight of Helena’s words.
Seizing the mont to outline the next steps, Duncan fixed his gaze upon Anomaly 077 with renewed intensity. “We’ll need ti to determine how we might uncover the information that’s purportedly within you,” he said, his tone underscored with seriousness. “For now, you’ll remain with us. And when the ti cos, be ready to join the Vanished on our voyage.”
The prospect of a prolonged commitnt seed to catch Sailor off guard, his initial shock palpable. “Ah? I assud my role was rely to pass on what I knew…”
Duncan’s silent stare prompted a swift adjustnt in Sailor’s deanor, his expression hardening with resolve. “Of course, as you’re well aware, my allegiance to the Vanished Fleet is unwavering. To board that legendary vessel has always been the dream of my lifeti…”
A softening smile from Duncan eased the tension, mirrored by the others’ encouraging grins. In a gesture of camaraderie, Shirley gently patted Sailor’s skinny arm, offering words of reassurance, “Don’t fret, the captain is truly kind. And life aboard the ship is far from dull. Every day is an adventure…”
She then left unsaid her own role in contributing to the ship’s “adventures.”
The mont, though light-hearted, was not lost on Helena, whose gaze carried a mix of emotions. The mory of those warriors who had sought her blessing prior to the Sea Song’s departure, their vibrant faith now a stark contrast to the present, weighed heavily on her.
“It’s ti we departed,” Helena finally declared, her voice tinged with a hint of lancholy, acknowledging the length of their visit and the duties awaiting her and Frem at the church.
Noting the chanical clock’s late hour, Duncan acknowledged their need to leave without the customary farewell, citing his own preparations as his focus.
As Helena and Frem made to exit, Helena paused, turning back towards Duncan with a montary hesitation. She then imparted crucial information, “The Storm Church’s border assembly point lies in the southeastern border, close to the waters where you last encountered the ‘Tide.'”
Duncan’s acknowledgnt was subtle yet firm, “Understood. I’ll reach out before we embark.”
This exchange, layered with unspoken understandings and commitnts, underscored the gravity of their shared cause and the uncertain journey ahead.
After the departure of the two popes, the night swallowed the sounds of their cars fading into the distance. Once abuzz with conversation and speculation, the living room settled into a brief silence. It was Shirley who broke the quiet, unable to suppress a wide yawn, signaling the night’s toll on her, “Aooo… I’m sleepy, I’m going to bed!”
Following Shirley’s lead, Vanna and Morris also excused themselves, leaving the room in search of rest.
Assuming her role as the hostess, Lucretia turned her attention to making the “new mber” of their unusual household comfortable. She eyed the mummy with a practical gaze, inquiring about his lodging preferences, “There are plenty of empty rooms here. Do you have any preferences for the room? Floor level or ventilation?”
The mummy, taken aback by the consideration, quickly dismissed the need for any special arrangents, “No need, no need,” he said, waving his hands in a dismissive gesture, his voice tinged with nervousness, “Just find a place to stay, I don’t sleep anyway…”
His attention drifted to the stair railing nearby, an idea sparking in his eyes. “Hey, this railing is nice. Just give a rope, and I can hang here, facing the sun, perfect for sunbathing in the morning… Oh, although there hasn’t been much sun recently…”
Duncan, intrigued yet skeptical, arched an eyebrow, “Are you sure? Just so you know, Nina wakes up the earliest, and that girl can be quite groggy in the morning. If she groggily cos down the stairs and looks up to see you hanging on the railing, it won’t just be a simple scare—you’ll really be seeing the sun.”
Lucretia, overhearing this plan, was imdiately flustered and insisted, “You must stay in a room!” Her tone was firm, almost motherly in her concern, “Don’t scare Nina—then I’ll have no house left.”
Nina, who had been quietly listening behind Duncan, chid in with a small, ek voice, “Actually, I’ve got it pretty under control now…”
Observing the interplay between Captain Duncan, Miss Witch, and the “sun fragnt” expressing her grievances in a softly wronged tone, Sailor sensed an atmosphere far removed from what he had anticipated.
Intrigued and perhaps a bit amused by the dostic dynamics at play, he couldn’t help but let a smile creep across his face—a smile that, despite its intent to be reassuring, carried an eerie quality.
“Alright, I’ll follow your arrangent.” His agreent, while grudging, signified his willingness to embrace the peculiarities of his new surroundings.
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