Deep Sea Embers

A wave of familiarity washed over him as Duncan laid eyes on it. Memories flooded back of his time in Pland where he had once received a letter. This wasn’t just any letter; it bore the thanks of what was believed to be the very same Storm Goddess. The handwriting on that note had been so distinctive that Duncan could recall every curve and stroke.

Yet, with confidence and certainty that was typical of her, Vanna contradicted this sentiment, stating that the handwriting on the pass belonged to Pope Helena. Her attention to detail was impeccable, and lying about something so minute was out of character for her. Thus, in Duncan’s mind, if Vanna believed the name on the pass to be Helena’s, then it must be so from her viewpoint.

But this brought forth a disconcerting question. Whose version of events was accurate? Was there a deeper, hidden message the Storm Goddess was trying to convey? And if so, what might her ultimate goal be?

Though shocked, Duncan didn’t allow his feelings to overwhelm him. Gazing at the pieces of paper, he found no glaring errors. Eager for more understanding, he looked towards Vanna and inquired about her conversation with Helena regarding the pass.

Promptly, Vanna narrated the sequence of events. She spoke of how Pope Helena had not given any extra information, merely mentioning that Duncan’s request was ready. Finishing her tale, she noticed Duncan’s puzzling demeanor and asked if something was amiss with the documents.

After a brief pause, Duncan assured her all was well. However, he couldn’t help but be struck by Vanna’s genuine ignorance. If her story was true, it seemed that even “Pope Helena” was unaware of the change in signature. Could the Pope be part of some elaborate scheme? But why?

Vanna, observant as always, detected the subtle shifts in Duncan’s reactions. She hesitated to question him directly, and instead shifted the conversation, revealing news of a new prophecy.

Duncan responded with genuine surprise, “A new prophecy? Isn’t that a tightly guarded secret within your assembly? Are you sure you can just reveal it to me?”

With a hint of mischief, Vanna replied that this prophecy would soon be public knowledge anyway. She then dropped a bombshell – this new prophecy was related to Duncan.

Vanna continued, detailing the prophecy’s three visions: Frost, Vanished, and the Vanished Fleet. None of these visions had been numbered, much like the previous prophecy from Pland.

The revelation left the room silent, except for the ambient sounds of the sea. After digesting this new information, Duncan remarked on the significance of these visions, particularly noting the weight of the Vanished. Vanna concurred, mentioning the ripple effects even a single prophecy can create among the four churches. But this time, there were three new visions, one of which was an update to the Vanished, previously numbered 005. The implications of this were vast.

“So, I assume both the religious communities and the scientific establishments will be extremely busy during this period?”

“Without a doubt. A lot of researchers will find themselves burning the midnight oil, and many might even lose their hair in the process. Church leaders, including the Popes, might also have countless sleepless nights. Even if the newfound insights don’t indicate any imminent threats, the subsequent interpretation rituals and the immense task of organizing the collected data will be daunting.”

Duncan reflected for a moment, then remarked, “I genuinely wish them the best in their endeavors.”

Vanna, usually unflappable, struggled to hide her anxiety. A strange sense of unease was gnawing at her from inside. After collecting her thoughts, she finally managed to ask, “Considering you’re at the center of all this, aren’t you at least a bit concerned?”

Meeting her gaze, Duncan responded, “Maybe I should be more cautious in the future? Or perhaps I could persuade your Pope to take things a little lighter…”

Vanna didn’t reply.

The young inquisitor was visibly confused by his casual demeanor. But Duncan didn’t focus on her reaction. He took in his surroundings, the familiar deck of his ship, the sturdy masts, and the ghostly sails flapping in the wind.

The Vanished sailed on smoothly as it always did, navigating the ocean. To Duncan, its owner, everything seemed just as it always had. However, in the record of Vision 004, titled “Tomb of the Nameless King,” the status of his ship had changed. It was no longer labeled as “Vision 005”.

It was now without a number.

What could this alteration mean?

In contemplation, Duncan stared at his hand, then focused on the document. The name “Gomona” emanated an overwhelming presence, capturing his undivided attention.

His thoughts raced back to the unexpected link he’d discovered between Dog and the God of Wisdom, the cryptic void, and the records of divine dialogues he had stumbled upon in that abyss.

Turning swiftly to Vanna, Duncan’s eyes bore into hers as he asked, “Vanna, is there a way for someone to converse with the gods?”

Taken aback by the sudden question, Vanna stuttered, “What do you mean… hold a conversation with the gods?”

“That’s right,” Duncan reiterated, “Engage in a direct dialogue with them.”

An idea struck him: If that shadowy void was genuinely some form of “communication channel” to the gods, and if the destroyed “Book of Blasphemy” served merely as an entry point into this enigma, then it was possible that these access points weren’t limited to fringe religious groups. In other words, if even heretical items could bridge this divine connection, then mainstream religions, particularly those associated with the four major churches, might have even more potent tools or techniques. The inference seemed quite logical.

He had previously overlooked this angle. Partly due to his history of dealing with heretics as a result of his encounters with the golden mask and the blasphemous tome, and partly because he might’ve been subconsciously steering clear of it.

Having always recognized the power and influence of the four churches within various city-states, Duncan inherently trusted institutions like the ones Vanna and Morris belonged to. Entering the void was fraught with danger, as seen from the damages to both the golden mask and the heretical book. The sheer power of such truths was often too overwhelming for mere artifacts to handle; improper use could destroy these sacred objects and even jeopardize the users’ lives. He felt it might be more suitable for the heretics to shoulder such risks.

However, Duncan’s thoughts were evolving in a new direction.

This change in mindset was triggered by the unexpected sight of the storm goddess’s signature on the document.

He knew he couldn’t fully share these thoughts with Vanna. She was a devout follower of her faith, and it would be tactless to say outright, “Given the rarity of heretical artifacts, I’m contemplating the idea of using sacred objects from your Storm Church.” There was a risk she might be deeply offended and perhaps feel compelled to unsheathe her greatsword in response…

To Vanna, Duncan’s casual query about divinity seemed out of place. She was quite surprised by the captain’s newfound curiosity about the gods. But upon reflecting on his past scholarly pursuits in religious matters, she responded after a pause, “The kind of communication you’re referring to can vary. At its simplest, any act of worship is deemed ‘communication with God’. An ordinary believer’s evening supplications are viewed as conversing with the divine.

“Stepping up from that, ordained priests, through rigorous training, rituals, and special artifacts, come to understand the ‘wisdom’ of the gods. They derive strength or visions from this profound wisdom and truth, achieving a deeper level of ‘communication’.

“At the pinnacle of this connection are saints like myself. We don’t need intricate ceremonies. Just our spiritual harmony allows us a direct line to the divine will, as our souls are inherently intertwined with our god’s essence…”

Vanna’s voice echoed a touch of pride towards the end, but she soon realized that Duncan’s expression indicated his questions hadn’t been addressed.

“That’s not the type of communication I had in mind,” Duncan clarified, choosing his words cautiously to explain his aim to Vanna. “I mean a mode of interaction that’s more direct, personal, and effective. Not just getting ambiguous visions during prayers but engaging in clear conversations with the four deities.”

Vanna was momentarily stunned, trying to comprehend Duncan’s profound implications.

Hence, Duncan surmised that Vanna might not have the answers he was searching for — something he had already prepared himself for.

“Never mind, it might be a bit too ambitious of me,” he dismissed with a gesture and a gentle exhale, “The ritualistic approaches you adopt probably won’t align with my needs. Maybe delving into the sacred scriptures of the four major churches firsthand would be a more productive approach.”

Caught off guard, Vanna tried to wrap her head around Duncan’s line of reasoning.

Thankfully, Duncan decided to shift gears from this perplexing discussion.

“Later, go to the White Oak and present the pass to Lawrence. I won’t be accompanying you,” Duncan directed, “Should he ask about subsequent plans, inform him to collaborate with the Vanished for now. Once everything settles on Frost’s end, we can draft a more enduring strategy.”

Vanna acknowledged, “Understood, Captain.”

Duncan gave a nod of approval. However, soon after, his expression became contemplative, as if something had caught his attention, “What was that?”

Curiosity piqued, Vanna inquired, “Is something amiss?”

“…Agatha has sent a message,” Duncan revealed, his demeanor turning grave, “She claims to have discovered a method to venture into the deep ocean.”