Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 807: The Island of Ashes

Chapter 807: The Island of Ashes

The colossal silhouettes of the Vanished and the Bright Star cut through the thick fog at the world’s end, sailing into a calm sea that was materialized into existence, with their destination clearly visible ahead – it was right in front, a desolate land floating on the ocean, covered in ashes.

Apart from that particularly desolate piece of land, no other significant objects could be seen across the sea, only clusters of floating ash drifting atop the mirror-like water surface, casting shadows under the chaotic daylight, resembling… fallen clouds.

The immense silhouettes of the two ships emerged from the dense fog at the edge of the world, gliding into a sea that seemed to spring into existence just for them. Ahead lay their destination, a solitary, ash-covered landmass adrift in the ocean, stark and devoid of life.

Beyond this bleak island, the sea stretched empty and unmarked, save for the occasional clusters of floating ash that skittered across the still surface of the water, casting eerie shadows in the unpredictable light. These shadows, under the tumultuous sky, took on the semblance of clouds that had plummeted from the heavens.

Navigating a path carved by gatherings of ash, the Vanished made its slow approach toward the desolate island. The sea around the hull mirrored the sky above so perfectly that Duncan, for a moment, believed they were sailing through the air itself. The surrounding mist and ash swirled around the vessels, creating an illusion of floating through clouds, with denser patches of ash mimicking islands adrift in a celestial sea. As the Vanished moved, it did not so much as ripple the water but rather gently coaxed the ash and fog to part before reassembling in its wake.

Shirley, leaning against the ship’s railing with Dog by her side, was captivated by the seascape unfolding before them. Despite the numerous wonders they had encountered on their travels with the Vanished, she remained profoundly moved by the beauty they found at each new waypoint.

“Dog… I’ve been feeling lately that not having enough words is quite limiting,” Shirley confessed quietly, her voice barely a whisper as though she feared being overheard by the captain, yet she chose not to communicate through their symbiotic mental link, perhaps wishing for someone else to overhear her reflections, “All I can think to say is ‘wow,’ but this place… it’s truly magnificent.”

“Do you want two more books?” Dog responded, his head tilting slightly, “Or perhaps you should start by finishing those books you’ve stashed under your bed?”

Caught off guard by the suggestion, Shirley quickly silenced Dog with a gentle push on his head, whispering, “Shh-”

Duncan, overhearing the exchange between Shirley and Dog, chose not to intervene, his attention wholly absorbed by the island now coming into clearer view. As they drew nearer, the stark details of the island became evident.

It was a flat, lifeless expanse, devoid of vegetation, not particularly large but significant as the final resting place for a “deity.” Unlike the grandiose temple dedicated to the Leviathan Queen or the stunning crystalline burial sites of Navigator Two, this island boasted no structures or monuments. Only ashes, dust, and the occasional wisp of smoke marked its surface.

With a mix of emotions hard to articulate, Duncan directed the Vanished to anchor near the island’s shore before taking a small boat to land on its ash-covered beach.

The landscape they encountered was a stark monument to the power of fire, with evidence of its retreat leaving behind a world of soft, warm ashes underfoot. Dark red scars streaked through the layer of ash, fading as if withdrawing with each passing moment.

As Duncan and his companions disembarked onto the island’s expansive, ash-covered beach, they were met with the novel sensation of ash’s soft warmth under their feet, making their way cautiously towards the island’s heart.

The island offered no clear paths, just a blanket of fine ash covering everything in sight. The group moved with extra caution, mindful of the hidden obstacles beneath the ash – nobody was keen on stumbling and falling into the unknown qualities of the ash layer.

Shirley began to voice her discomfort only a short distance into their trek. “It feels like ash has filled my shoes… And it’s all over my skirt too…” she complained, envisioning a thorough bath upon their return, “This ash finds its way into everything!”

Trailing behind, Lucretia offered her perspective, “This place must have once been consumed by intense flames for such a landscape to remain even after the fire has devoured all.” Despite the ash-covered surroundings, Lucretia walked with an effortless grace, a beautiful sun umbrella in her hand creating a gentle breeze around her, repelling the ash. She gazed into the distance, noting, “There are still some smoke columns over there; not all flames have died, but for the rest of the island, those are merely the last embers.”

Observing Lucretia’s unfazed poise, Nina couldn’t hide her admiration, “Magic is so convenient…”

“Envious? It’s the reward of countless nights spent over a century,” Lucretia responded with a smile, then glanced at Duncan, offering, “Do you need one? I have an extra umbrella – it’s quite effective at keeping you clean and making breathing easier.”

Duncan looked at the ash clinging to him and then at Lucretia’s almost magical purple sun umbrella, his skepticism clear. “No need,” he declined.

“I could change it to black,” Lucretia suggested earnestly, “And if you like, I could even add a skull motif to the handle.”

Before Duncan could respond, Shirley briefly entertained the thought of the captain with a dark, gothic-style umbrella, a mental image so incongruous it took her by surprise.

Duncan faced Lucretia with a determined expression, and then, without a word, flames engulfed his body. He transformed into a spectral figure within the flames, levitating above the ash-covered ground, and declared, “I have my own way.”

Lucretia, watching, allowed a small, secretive smile to play at the corners of her mouth, unseen by her father. Then, struck by sudden inspiration, Shirley excitedly slapped her hand, exclaiming, “Oh, right, I think I have my own way too…”

Before Shirley could finish her sentence, a cacophony of crackling sounds erupted from within her, quickly followed by a dense shroud of dark smoke that enveloped her completely. Sinister, jagged shards of bone began to emerge and extend from her frame. Within moments, she had transformed into an imposing, shadowy demonic figure. Then, with the aid of twelve skeletal limbs that extended from her back, she lifted herself above the ground, moving effortlessly over the ash-covered terrain.

“This is much more comfortable, and the view from up here isn’t half bad either,” came Shirley’s voice, now deeper and tinged with a mature huskiness. She casually stirred a mound of ash on the ground with the tip of one elongated limb, her tone reflective, “…I don’t know why, but there’s something about these ashes that unsettles me. It’s not merely their filthiness; there’s an odd, unnerving sensation they produce… it’s quite disagreeable when they adhere to my form.”

Upon hearing Shirley’s contemplative murmurs, Nina, who was walking alongside Duncan, expressed her agreement with a grimace and a tug at Duncan’s sleeve, “I feel exactly the same. There’s something about these ashes that’s just… suffocating. It feels like I’m being smothered, restricted in movement, as though they’re wrapping themselves around me, making it hard to breathe.”

Duncan halted in his tracks at this, his demeanor shifting from amused interest in Shirley’s transformation to concern. “Is everyone feeling this way?” he inquired, turning to gauge the reactions of their companions.

“Not at all,” replied Alice quickly, the mechanical doll examining her own form and articulating her joints. “I’m just noticing the ashes seeping into my joints, causing a bit of irritation. A thorough cleaning is definitely in order after we return.”

“I share Shirley and Nina’s sentiments,” Morris chimed in seriously. “There’s an unsettling essence about this place… It’s unlike the domains of the Storm Goddess or the God of Wisdom. It feels as though something buried within these ashes is ‘stirring,’ exerting an influence on us.”

He paused, seemingly to consider his next words carefully, then added, “However, I don’t detect any overt hostility. It appears more to be a characteristic of the ‘environment’ here than anything else.”

Hearing the varied responses, Duncan’s expression grew concerned. He then called out in another direction, “Vanna, what’s your take on this?”

Silence followed. The endless sea of ashes before them offered no reply, though Duncan was sure Vanna had been there just a moment ago. He could have sworn he saw her silhouette flicker and then disappear as if she had been silently observing until just now.

An unsettling quiet descended upon the group, with Nina staring bewilderedly towards where Vanna had been, the question of Vanna’s identity barely forming in her mind.

However, before she could fully grasp the thought, a sudden burst of flames interrupted her contemplation. A deluge of memories and information rushed back into her awareness as if breaking through a dam of forgetfulness –

Vanna, the youngest inquisitor from Pland… renowned for her formidable prowess and steadfast faith… her striking silver hair… initially reserved upon joining the ship but soon revealed a cheerful, optimistic nature… known for her lighthearted complaints about matrimonial prospects… notably tall…

Nina, her mind a whirlwind of confusion, lifted her gaze as countless fragments of memory swirled and merged within her consciousness, forming fleeting images of Vanna that quickly dissolved into indistinct shapes. She perceived the gentle caress of invisible winds traversing the island, stirring the ash into the air. Amidst this ghostly dance, a tall silhouette seemed to stride toward the island’s heart, moving as if in another realm entirely, its back turned, resembling a wanderer who had relinquished all memories, embarking on an endless voyage.

Snapped out of her reverie by this vision, Nina pointed excitedly towards the fading figure amidst the wind-whipped ashes, exclaiming, “There! Vanna went in that direction! I just saw her moving there!”

Her alert seemed to rouse everyone from their daze, prompting exchanged glances filled with uncertainty. The fleeting images of Vanna and the spectral appearances in the wind momentarily blurred the line between reality and illusion, leaving them all grappling with their perceptions. It was at this moment of collective disorientation that the captain’s steady, commanding voice cut through the confusion, pulling them back from the brink of oblivion –

“Everyone, back to the ship!”

Emerald flames flared to life, carving out a sanctuary amidst the ash-strewn wasteland. Morris observed as a fiery vortex materialized next to Duncan, with the silhouette of Ai floating above this fiery gateway.

“These ashes are the remnants of a forgotten history,” Duncan announced urgently, “Return to the ship now.”

Nina, driven by concern, couldn’t help but ask, “What about you?”

“…I need to retrieve Vanna,” Duncan declared, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of ashes that seemed to stretch into infinity, “And while I’m out there, I’ll also look for Ta Ruijin.”