Chapter 391: Reflection

Suddenly, a fragment of an old conversation resurfaced in Lawrence’s mind; it was a simple yet profound statement once spoken by “Martha.” He found himself wrestling with the nature of his memories – were they just figments of his imagination, or did they hold the true essence of Martha as he knew her? Or was this current “Martha” standing before him a more authentic reflection of her reality? One thing, however, was unwaveringly clear – his path was destined to lead him to a place known as Frost. The exact location of Frost, however, remained shrouded in enigma.

Lawrence, bearing a heavy furrow between his brows, couldn’t conceal his frustration as he spoke up, “We’ve been circling in search for the elusive path to Frost. Ever since we sneaked out of the city port, covered by the black canvas of night, we haven’t been able to trace the city again. Even retracing our steps led us only to an endless expanse of ocean.”

Flashing a smile and shaking her head, Martha offered a surprising insight. “You see, Lawrence, your approach won’t lead you to Frost. Frost, it seems, has been purposefully eluding you.”

Caught off guard, Lawrence asked, “Why on earth would Frost seek to hide from me?”

Instead of offering a verbal response, Martha simply gestured silently towards the ethereal flame that danced undeterred on Lawrence.

In that moment, a wave of realization washed over the old captain. Glancing down at his ghostly arm, he mused aloud, “Could it be that our unimpeded escape from the city port earlier was not a mere stroke of luck... Rather than us leaving, could it be the city itself that moved away from the White Oak?”

Turning his gaze back to Martha, his face a unique blend of comprehension and confusion, Lawrence asked, “What then is our next move? At present, the White Oak is closer to the Vanished than when we first set out from the port. If the city is intentionally distancing itself from me, how do I propose to find it?”

“I’ll locate it,” Martha answered with an air of serene certainty.

Startled, Lawrence questioned her, “You’re sure you can find it?”

“Absolutely,” affirmed Martha, her voice brimming with confidence. “Over the years, my ship and I have formed an inseparable bond with this sea. Even if I have now parted from this great entity, it won’t be aware of it immediately. Besides, the current existence of the Black Oak is more akin to the ‘mirror image’ of the White Oak. I haven’t directly interacted with the Vanished, at least not yet. Frost won’t recoil from me... It’s not as ‘sly’ as you might think.”

Lawrence nodded, grasping only a part of her explanation. Still slightly puzzled, he asked, “But if you’re the only one who can approach it, what about the White Oak and me? If we reveal ourselves, won’t it inevitably ‘retreat’?”

In response, Martha merely offered a comforting smile.

Closing the distance between them, she reached out and gently placed her hand on Lawrence’s chest. Her gaze held a depth of wisdom that appeared to transcend mortal understanding. In a soft whisper, she suggested, “The answer is simpler than you think. Let’s swap our roles. In this place, the boundary between a being and its reflection isn’t as clear cut.”

Her suggestion struck Lawrence with surprise. He opened his mouth to delve deeper into this novel idea, but before he could formulate his questions, a faint pressure spread from his chest.

This subtle force, while gentle, triggered a wave of vertigo that swept over Lawrence. He felt his balance shift, and his body began to tilt backwards. In the fleeting moments before he succumbed to unconsciousness, he was aware of a supportive form catching him from behind. Martha’s calming voice echoed in his ears, “Take a short reprieve, dear heart. The journey that lies before us is beyond comprehension.”

Lawrence fell into a deep slumber. It felt like only a brief moment had passed when he was jolted awake, his first instinct to call out, “Martha!”

The voice that responded was not Martha’s, but his First Mate Gus’, “Captain, are you awake at last?”

As consciousness fully returned, Lawrence found himself struggling to sit upright. He took a deep breath to combat the disorientation from such an abrupt awakening from sleep. Surveying his surroundings, he discovered he was tucked into his bed in the captain’s quarters. Gus and a few other crew members stood near with expressions of apprehension etched on their faces.

“Captain...” First Mate Gus, taking note of the changes in Lawrence’s countenance, surmised that the seasoned captain might have unraveled their current predicament. “What’s going on? Why has our reflection in the water morphed into the Black Oak? And why are we unable to steer the ship...”

“We’re not directionless, we’re simply tracing the course of the Black Oak,” Lawrence responded, a soft smile gracing his features. “Tell the crew to rest easy. We’re on our way to a location that promises the answers to all our dilemmas.”

“A location that has the answers to all our issues?” The first mate blinked in confusion, “Where exactly are we going?”

“Our final destination is Frost.”

...

As the cloak of night descended over the city-state, two distinct figures navigated their way swiftly through the desolate, curfewed streets.

One was an imposing figure, broad of shoulder and shrouded in a black overcoat, a specter mirrored by the encroaching darkness. The other was notably shorter, and although bundled up in a thick winter cloak, their slight, lean physique was still discernible.

An icy breeze whipped through the street, prompting the shorter figure to sneeze vehemently: “...Achoo!”

Duncan, the taller of the two, glanced down at Shirley, who was now rubbing her nose, “I had advised you to wear a scarf, but you dismissed the idea. The nights in Frost are considerably chillier than in Pland.”

“This cold...” Shirley involuntarily tightened her attire. Despite her warm clothing, the biting wind still sent an unwelcome shiver through her body. Being a native of Pland, she was still acclimating to Frost’s harsh climate, “I’m beginning to regret venturing out...”

Duncan responded with a dry smile, “You proclaimed you’d rather do anything than be stuck with homework.”

Reminded of her earlier bravado, Shirley held her head high against the biting wind, asserting, “Indeed, that’s exactly what I said!”

“Among all your peers, your tenacity is unparalleled,” Duncan sighed, a sense of helpless amusement washing over him. He then shifted his gaze, his eyes fixated on a distant alley, “We should keep moving, I’d rather not cross paths with the night patrol.”

Struggling to match Duncan’s brisk stride, Shirley, despite her shorter legs, managed to keep pace. Her curiosity piqued, she asked, “What’s the objective of this outing?”

“We’re paying a visit to ensure someone’s well-being,” Duncan replied nonchalantly, pressing onward.

“Visiting someone?” Shirley looked up at the towering captain beside her, “Who are we visiting?”

“The gatekeeper, Agatha,” Duncan responded in a tone laced with indifference.

However, his eyes were focused on something far beyond the shadow-cloaked street, towards its endpoint.

A few eerie, green flames danced within his line of sight, their intensity fluctuating as if being observed through a thick mist.