Chapter 590: Already Dead

Chapter 590: Already Dead

As Duncan gently pushed the door leading into the captains quarters, his eyes immediately landed on the peculiar statue of a goat head perched at the corner of the navigation table. The sculpture, with its intricate details and almost lifelike appearance, began to stir. The head of the sculpture moved up gradually, reminiscent of someone slowly awakening from a deep slumber. As it tilted its head, the eyes of the carving turned towards the entrance, locking onto the newcomer.

Ah, Duncan, we cross paths once again, the statue, made of dark polished wood, uttered in a tone much slower than its usually brisk and unending chatter. Your departure last time was quite abrupt.

Recognizing the voice, Duncan responded while shutting the door firmly behind him. He took a few confident strides towards the navigation table, inquiring, Do you remember our last encounter?

While making his way, Duncans eyes briefly glimpsed a worn-out oval mirror adjacent to the door. Within its frame, a fleeting misty reflection came alive. It was the ghostly image of a woman, Agatha, whose transparent form shimmered momentarily before disappearing.

However, the goat head, so engrossed in Duncan, seemed unaware of Agathas transient appearance. The statues eyes never left Duncan; they followed his every move, with the head adjusting its angle as if tracking him. Your presence is one of the few memories that stand out in my vast sea of forgotten moments, the statue admitted in its peculiarly slow speech. Its stimulating and intriguing.

Reaching the navigation table, Duncans gaze descended upon the sea map spread out. The map showcased a dense, verdant forest, and above it, a spectral image of the Vanished floated. The ship seemed to be navigating through the clouds, casting its shadow over the forest beneath as if it were on a reconnaissance mission. Duncans eyes darted over the details, making a quick mental note. The layout of the forest sea remained consistent with his recollection. But the position of the ship had noticeably shifted from its original location.

Acknowledging the sculptures previous comment, Duncan said, Indeed, I had to make a hasty exit previously. Leaning back in a chair, his gaze flitted back to the oval mirror for a second, then returned to the goat head. Tell me, how fares Atlantis now?

Atlantis rests in a tranquil slumber, came the slow response from the goat head. Her alarm last time was fleeting. I hope that didnt inconvenience you.

Shaking his head, Duncan replied, Not at all, as he gently placed his hand on the tables surface, subtly channeling a mysterious fiery power.

Out of the periphery of his vision, he saw faint tendrils of ghostly green flames start to manifest around the captains quarters.

Acting quickly, Duncan kept the flames in check, ensuring they did not grow too wild and perhaps awaken or disturb the entity named Atlantis the goat head referred to.

He hadnt just conjured these flames. They were, in fact, remnants or embers he had purposefully left behind on the Vanished in the tangible world earlier that day.

Per his predictions, the embers he strategically positioned on the actual Vanished had the power to transcend the boundary separating dreams from reality, allowing them to manifest on this dreamlike rendition of the Vanished. This act of transferring flames was akin to covertly introducing them into the dream world. Duncan knew that as long as he moderated these flames, they wouldnt pose any threat or overstimulate Atlantis.

Viewing from a distinct angle, the flames that had materialized on this ship werent mere random disturbances. Instead, they had integrated seamlessly with the ghostly ambiance of the Vanished. Unlike the flames Duncan conjured during his previous visit, which had stood out jarringly as intruders within the dream realm, these flames now felt native and harmonious with the ships structure.

Duncan released a soft, thoughtful exhale. With a silent command, he willed the flames to draw back, letting them lie dormant once again. They obediently ebbed away, seeping back into the cracks and recesses of the ships walls, floor, and ceiling.Fiind updated novels at novelhall.com

Through meticulous experimentation, Duncan had discovered a method to safely introduce and incorporate these flames into this spectral environment. If he were to replicate this technique a couple more times, he might have enough smuggled flames amassed to eventually consume and thus dominate the entirety of this shadowy version of the Vanished.

Interestingly, the goat head seemed utterly indifferent to Duncans flame manipulations. It showed no sign of acknowledgement or alarm, acting as if these flames were non-existent. Its demeanor was as if it was just a regular wooden statue, inanimate and insensate, only coming to life when Duncan interacted with it.

From where they sat, the skeletal remnants of what once might have been a bustling urban center loomed on the horizon.

A peculiar sensation washed over Vanna: the distance they had covered seemed to contradict the short duration of their travel. By mere mortal calculations, even with their steady pace, they couldnt possibly have approached the ruins in such a brief time frame.

This curious phenomenon clearly bore the mark of her colossal companion. It dawned on her that journeying alongside this giant had an uncanny ability to warp the very fabric of distance.

Feeling compelled to share her realization, Vanna voiced her thoughts.

Without any pretense or obscurity, the giant responded, I possess the unique gift to traverse any part of this realm within a days time. Such a skill allows me to monitor and chronicle the myriad transformations that shape our world every moment. To witness and to record thats my eternal charge. He hesitated briefly, his voice tinged with sadness, Yet, of late, theres scarcely anything left worthy of observation or recording.

Vannas attention was inexorably drawn to the looming ruins.

Indeed, her initial instinct had been correct. These remnants were all that was left of a once-vibrant city. However, at first glance, the connection between these stark stone formations and a city was not immediately evident.

In front of her lay an expansive field of colossal, oddly contoured, grey-black stones, standing like silent sentinels amid the desert backdrop. Any recognizable semblances of urban life or architectural hallmarks had been obliterated.

Vanna grappled with comprehending the sheer scale of disaster required to transmute a grand metropolis into this desolation. It appeared as though the city had been subject to a cataclysmic meltdown. A significant portion of the citys essence must have evaporated instantaneously. The remnants then seemed to have liquified and flowed, only to freeze swiftly in a biting cold snap, culminating in the bizarre rocky landscape before her.

As Vanna pondered the condition of the city, a conundrum arose in her mind. If, hypothetically, an instantaneous blast of immense heat had indeed struck the city, why then did the vast lands encompassing it still remain as an expansive desert?

Elementary knowledge told her that extreme heat would cause sand to undergo a melting transition, converting it into a substance akin to glass. If such a phenomenon had indeed transpired, the terrain surrounding the city shouldnt resemble a desert. Rather, it should look like a vast plain of hardened, glassy ground, akin to vast sheets of obsidian.

While Vanna admittedly hadnt been the most diligent student in her history and cultural lessons, she was still well-versed in basic geological phenomena.

Turning to her colossal companion, she sought clarity, What monumental event occurred to reduce this once magnificent city to its current desolate state? Earlier, you made mention of the world meeting its end. What force, what calamity, brought about its downfall?

The giant, with a visage resembling a time-worn, intricate statue, turned his piercing gaze upon her. His eyes, deep-set and alight with an inner fire of suppressed anguish, appeared to search her soul.

The cataclysm that befell this world is beyond the grasp of mortal understanding, perhaps even eluding the wisdom of ancient deities, he began, his voice heavy with gravity. On that fateful day, many who looked up to me, who regarded me with reverence, sought my protection and guidance. But when I bore witness to the devastation, the sheer magnitude of the calamity, it consumed my very essence, reducing my spirit to cinders. Its a horror that defies mere linguistic expression.

With deliberate motion, he extended a massive hand, pointing towards a stark, crimson tear in the firmament above.

The closest I can come to an explanation, he continued somberly, is that when the end days dawned, abominations and corruptions alien to our realm emerged from that very rift. In mere moments, they tore asunder the land beneath our feet, twisting and contorting it into grotesque forms. All that we cherished, all that we held sacred, was mercilessly obliterated, consumed by this all-encompassing corruption.