Chapter 577: The Memory of Goathead

Chapter 577: The Memory of Goathead

In a remote area off the coast of Wind Harbor, a radiant glow emanated from an enigmatic objectdescribed as a luminous geometric figurethat hovered mysteriously over the ocean. Within the boundaries of this ethereal illumination, a thick mist enveloped the surface of the sea, concealing a colossal ghost ship known as the Vanished. This spectral vessel moved slowly but deliberately through the open waters, its presence shrouded by the fog.

Suddenly, an uncanny flash of green fire pierced the dense mist, momentarily illuminating the immediate vicinity.

A fiery portal burst open on the wooden deck of the Vanished. Stepping out from this magical gateway were Duncan and Alice, instantly engulfed by the ships surroundings.

Duncan felt immediate comfort as he set foot on the ships familiar wooden deck. The towering mast and otherworldly sails seemed to greet him like old friends. Even though he had only been away briefly, returning to the Vanished was like a balm to his soul. As he looked around and inhaled the salty aroma that the sea breeze wafted across the deck, he let out a slow, calming breath. His previously turbulent emotions seemed to steady and stabilize.

However, as Duncan savored this moment of peace, his thoughts inadvertently wandered back to the previous nights adventure. He had been exploring a colossal vine and had seen illusionary scenes of another Vanished navigating through a similarly mysterious fog. Strangely, the scenes in his memory merged seamlessly with the reality before him, making it difficult to tell one from the other.

They really are identical, Duncan mumbled to himself.

Whats identical? Alice inquired, breaking his reverie.

Duncan turned and looked at her. He saw in Alice a cheerful and naive companion who seemed happy to tag along on his various escapades. A small, warm smile graced his lips.

Im heading to the captains quarters to speak with the first mate, he informed her. Feel free to do as you please.

Alright! Alice chirped, full of enthusiasm. Im off to the kitchen to whip up some marinated fish and dried meat. Shirley and Nina mentioned theyre hungry.

Alice waved cheerfully at Duncan as she dashed towards the ships kitchen. Her mood seemed to brighten further upon her return to the Vanished, although Alice was generally an upbeat personjoyful aboard the ship and just as happy on land. It seemed her emotional range consisted of just two states: happy and even happier.

As Duncan watched Alices lighthearted figure disappear into the distance, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. Shaking his head to regain focus, he composed his expression and continued walking toward the stern of the ship.

Upon reaching the door to the captains quarters, he paused. Etched into the wooden doorframe were the words The Door of the Lost. The ancient, potent characters seemed as though they had weathered the test of time, deeply embedded into the wood.

Duncan contemplated the inscription intently. The only visible difference he could find between this Vanished and the one he had glimpsed in the foggy illusion was this very phrase. Of course, there could be other, subtler differences offering more clues. But because of the brevity of his previous encounter, he had not had the chance to delve deeper. For now, the variation in the carved words on the captains door was the only definite clue he had about the two seemingly identical ships.

The Door of the Lost stands as an enigmatic feature that is extraordinary even when compared to the myriad oddities and secrets that the Vanished harbors. This isnt just any door; it serves as Duncans sole portal back to his bachelor apartment in a realm altogether different from the ships current location. Moreover, the door functions as a verification mechanism for the captains authority on board. Remarkably, the inscription etched into the doors frame doesnt correspond to any known language. Yet, its meaning becomes immediately clear to anyone who looks at it, from Alicewho was initially illiterateto natives from remote city-states who might only be familiar with their own esoteric scripts.

In a world teeming with inexplicable phenomena and anomalies, containment was a precarious affair. Yet, in many ways, the Vanished was already a contained anomalywith Duncan himself acting as the linchpin that held it all together.

The goat head looked distinctly uneasy, a stark contrast to its usual animated disposition. Accustomed to Duncans typically mild-mannered and compassionate leadership, this new tone and line of questioning caught it off guard.

Why this sudden curiosity? it asked, a quiver of apprehension coloring its voice.

Up until now, there was no need to delve into these matters, Duncan replied evenly, maintaining his intense gaze. But recent incidents in Wind Harbor have changed that equation. Unusual occurrences linked to you have emerged, and I can no longer afford to leave these questions unanswered. I need your explanation, now more than ever.

The neck of the wooden sculpture undulated gently from side to side as though trying to ease a hidden strain or anxiety. Duncans gaze remained unbroken though, his eyes locking with the obsidian carvings that served as the goat heads own. Slowly, deliberately, he rested his hand on the worn surface of the navigation table before him.

As his hand touched the table, tendrils of eerie green flame started to unfurl from his palm, extending like spectral fingers across the wooden surface. They reached outward, permeating the walls and floor of the captains quarters, then winding their way through the labyrinthine corridors of the ship. A low, haunting creak arose from the bowels of the Vanished as though the ship itself were moaning under the influence of this strange energy. The very aura of the ship seemed to be undergoing a nuanced yet profound transformation.

Taking a deep breath, Duncan spoke with a tone of solemn authority. I am Duncan Abnomar, captain of this vessel, and I steer her through the Boundless Sea. He wasnt just addressing the goat head; he was speaking to the ship itself, reaffirming his dominion over it. I ask you, my first mate, this question not as an interrogation but as a matter of casual discourse. The Vanished will not plunge into subspace or undergo any drastic alterations during this conversation. Why? Because I am Duncan Abnomar, captain of this ship.

With his declaration, surges of ethereal, green fire burst forth from Duncans form. His physical presence transformed into an otherworldly apparitionboth horrifying and awe-inspiring. His words reverberated throughout the ship as if carried by some unseen force. So, tell me, my first mate: Where, exactly, are you from?

With an air of newfound tranquility, the goat head finally responded, I come from subspace.

Subspace is a term too vague and expansive to provide any real answers, Duncan pressed, his spectral form flickering like a ghostly lantern. You know thats not what Im asking.

The goat heads demeanor shifted, losing its previous timidity. Subspace is both expansive and the only accurate term to describe my origin. It knows no past or future, no specific location within its boundaries. I cannot tell you about my past because I do not know it. I cannot describe my essence, for even I am unsure what that truly means.

So, what do you remember? Duncans voice became sharper like a blade honing its edge.

A long, uncomfortable silence filled the room, stretching the tension to its breaking point. The goat head became unnaturally still, almost appearing like a mere decoration in the captains quarters. Finally, after what felt like an interminable pause, it stirred, and a voice, darker and raspier than before, seeped out, Remember them.'

Duncans brow furrowed in confusion. Remember them? What does that even mean?

Shaking its wooden head with a sense of helpless sorrow, the goat head replied, I dont know. But its a directive, an imperative I cannot ignore. Remember them, yet I dont know who they are. The truth is, Captain, I dont remember anymore.