Deep Sea Embers-Chapter 760: Reunion After a Long Separation

The ancient and worn fabric, now resembling more a relic than anything else, bore only fragments of words such as “Caraline,” “border,” and “Leviathan” – their shapes barely discernible. Making out even these few words was a feat, requiring keen observation and the ability to make connections where none seemed to exist.

Anomaly 077 gazed at the fabric laid before him, a piece that had been transferred from the storeroom of the White Oak upon the captain’s command. Since his transformation and induction into the crew of the White Oak, this fabric had been stored away, out of sight in the ship’s containment room.

“It’s been ages since I’ve taken a good look at this… Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever truly seen it for what it is,” Anomaly 077 whispered, his aged fingers gently tracing what seemed like mere stains but were in fact the remnants of faded writings, “I never knew these texts were here…”

“That’s understandable. Unless you’re actively searching for something, it’s easy to overlook these kinds of details, dismissing them as insignificant smudges,” Lawrence replied, his tone nonchalant, “Had Martha not been so observant and considered this angle, we might never have linked these smudges on the fabric to Captain Caraline’s diary. Especially now, when so little of it is left… The elements have claimed nearly all its substance.”

“Yes, there’s hardly anything left…” Sailor responded, his voice filled with a sense of loss, “It’s hard to believe this was once the captain’s detailed log. Now, what remains is barely coherent… It was meant to be a comprehensive record, not this… ‘fabric’…”

“This transformation likely relates to your journey back from the realm beyond the border to the Boundless Sea. Crossing that six-mile threshold seems to irrevocably alter the essence of certain objects,” Lawrence speculated, “It turned you into Anomaly 077 and transformed Captain Caraline’s detailed log into this piece of fabric—but regardless, these fragments are vital clues, and ‘he’ needs them.”

Sailor stood silently next to the fabric, engulfed in a profound stillness. An inner turmoil seemed to grip him; after a lengthy pause, he gave a slow nod.

“Alright, lead me to him. ‘He’ has been waiting for too long.”

Lawrence let out a quiet sigh, stepping back slightly. Almost immediately, a ghostly green flame flickered into existence where he had just stood. The heart of the flame then twisted and contracted before expanding and pulsing, and from this fiery maelstrom emerged a skeletal bird, its visage striking terror!

The appearance of the skeletal bird and the swirling portal of flame immediately caused Sailor to take a half step back, his gaze shifting from the rotating flames to the creature circling near the ceiling before he turned to Lawrence with a look of disbelief, “…Is this thing really safe?”

“Are you having second thoughts now?” Lawrence’s eyes widened in surprise, his tone incredulous, “You’re not seriously reconsidering at this moment, are you? If ‘he’ has to come personally to fetch you, it won’t be nearly as gentle as this!”

Feeling the weight of Lawrence’s words, Sailor visibly tensed, a look of inner conflict crossing his face as he hesitantly moved two steps towards the flame portal, stopping mid-way with a question, “Does passing through hurt?”

Without a word, Lawrence moved closer, positioning himself just behind Sailor.

Sailor’s whole body seemed to react, shuddering as if feeling a chill he hadn’t experienced in centuries, “No, no, no, I’ll go, I’ll go in myself…”

With that declaration, he approached the swirling flames, bracing himself before tentatively reaching a hand into the vortex, only to quickly retract it, exclaiming, “Ah damn, it’s kind of hot… Captain, isn’t there another way…”

Lawrence, losing patience, gave him a nudge: “Quit your complaining!”

Sailor’s startled yelp was swiftly swallowed by the roaring flames.

“Get a move on! Get a move on!” The skeletal bird screeched, diving into the flame portal. However, in a surprising turn, it reemerged from the portal a moment later, seizing the neglected shroud with its claws before disappearing back into the flames.

Lawrence let out a weary sigh.

Just as he was about to leave, the flame portal burst open once more, and the giant bird reappeared, approaching Lawrence with an urgent, grating demand, “Get some fries, get some fries, get fries…”

Lawrence nearly jumped out of his skin at this unexpected request from the “messenger,” stumbling back to regain his composure. It dawned on him then that he had forgotten to prepare the necessary “offering” and “medium” for the summoning, his forehead beading with sweat, “I… forgot to prepare…”

The skeletal bird fixed Lawrence with a stare, its empty, flame-filled eye sockets boring into him, causing Lawrence to stiffen.

In those tense moments, Lawrence’s mind raced through various notorious incidents among the Boundless Sea’s captains involving summoning and sacrifices: a wizard met his end against a wall, crushed by the violent backlash for presenting an incorrect offering to a spirit from the shadow realm; a cultist was fatally struck down by an irate demon for an inadequate sacrifice; a Truth Saint, while examining an ancient artifact, inadvertently activated a spell to call forth malevolent spirits and, lacking a proper offering, was forced to eliminate the uncontrollable entity in a desperate struggle…

Uncertain how to interpret the behavior of the peculiar messenger known as “Ai” that the captain frequently mentioned, Lawrence quickly realized that confronting this entity with aggression was likely not an option. The idea of physically overpowering Ai, much less resorting to violence, seemed increasingly impractical as he contemplated the situation.

With a nervous gulp, Lawrence began to second-guess his earlier oversight. Given their allegiance to Captain Duncan, it was uncertain whether Ai, this seemingly otherworldly “messenger,” would recognize the concept of camaraderie or allegiance among the crew.

His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Ai, the skeletal bird, suddenly pull back, turn around, and head back through the portal, all the while muttering under its breath about the indignities of its position: “Slave labor, not even compensated for overtime…”

With that, Ai and the portal vanished from the room, leaving Lawrence in a state of bewildered silence.

…

Meanwhile, Duncan observed Anomaly 077 being unceremoniously ejected from the portal by Ai. He then turned his attention to a visibly agitated dove pacing on the coffee table, puzzled by its demeanor: “What seems to be the issue with this bird now?”

Alice, equally baffled, responded, “I’m not sure. She appears to be quite upset…”

“Let’s not dwell on it. Perhaps feeding her will improve its mood,” Duncan suggested nonchalantly, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand and turning his focus back to Anomaly 077, who was struggling to regain his footing.

“It’s been a while, Sailor.”

Upon hearing Duncan’s greeting, Anomaly 077, who had been cautiously avoiding making eye contact with anyone in the room, stiffened. It was as if the direct address confirmed there was no escaping this reunion. He slowly stood up straighter, his nervous gaze scanning the room.

“Uh… Captain, it’s been a long time, and everyone else, too… I haven’t seen any of you in quite a while…”

He proceeded to greet each person in the room, reverting to the formality he once displayed in Duncan’s presence, but then he halted abruptly when he met Helena’s gaze.

Responsible for the Storm Church, Helena watched the mummified figure before her intently. She scrutinized Anomaly 077’s desiccated and ghastly form, her expression gradually shifting as she endeavored to reconcile the sight before her with her memory of the Sea Song’s loyal first mate, whom she had met personally not too long ago. Despite her efforts, she found it impossible to associate the dignified first mate with the disfigured, hunched figure of Anomaly 077.

After a moment of silence, Helena spoke, breaking the tension: “I can’t recognize you.”

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“Yes, it has been over two hundred years—perhaps even longer,” Anomaly 077 responded with a grin that produced a grating sound. He took a few steps toward Helena, attempting a polite gesture, but hesitated, his hand faltering mid-air, “…I’ve forgotten how to make that gesture properly.”

Helena’s query carried a weight of formality rather than genuine curiosity, “Are you the Sea Song’s first mate?”

“Yes, as far as my scattered memories can confirm,” Sailor replied, tapping his temple as if to summon clarity from the chaos within, “What remains in my mind are fragmented pieces. I vividly recall the moment before we embarked on our journey. Captain Caraline and I were aboard the Ark, under your watchful eye, receiving your sacred blessing. You anointed our wrists with ointment… The day had not yet yielded to night.”

Helena paused momentarily, her acknowledgment tinged with a sense of temporal proximity, “…Yes, that was relatively recent.”

“To me, it feels like eons have passed,” Sailor said softly, turning his gaze towards Duncan, “I’ve shared everything I can recall. Captain Lawrence must have already briefed you on any details I’ve omitted, correct?”

Duncan offered a nod of confirmation as he approached the low table, his hand unhesitatingly grasping the filthy, shredded “cloth”—its unsightly condition notwithstanding: “Is this the shroud Lawrence referred to?”

As Duncan’s fingers made contact with the cloth, all eyes in the room shifted towards him. Sailor confirmed with a nod, “Yes, that’s the one… It bears Captain Caraline’s handwriting, though I’m at a loss as to how it ended up in this state. It’s supposed to be the Sea Song captain’s log… Captain Caraline entrusted it to me before she disappeared. It’s one of the few memories I hold with absolute clarity.”

Duncan scrutinized the dilapidated fabric, its inscriptions barely discernible, his expression morphing into a frown, “…It’s illegible now.”

“The transition back to the Boundless Sea likely caused its current state,” Sailor lamented, shaking his head in resignation, “That boundary… It acts as a barrier, preventing us from transporting secrets from beyond back to our world.”

Duncan absorbed the information in silence, his contemplation casting a reflective mood over the room. The quiet was so profound that the only sound was the clock’s ticking, marking the passage of time in the otherwise still atmosphere.

Breaking the silence, Duncan finally looked up, a decisive tone in his voice, “Would you object if I were to conduct some ‘extreme’ tests on it?”