Duncan was fully aware that the agreement he had concluded this day was destined to cause a surge of unrest that would span the vast ocean. This “warning”, as he termed it, carried an impact that wouldn’t only affect a small group but everyone. Its significance was profound, not just because of its disturbing content but also due to the origin of its source.
Tyrian, his face grim, finally shattered the tense silence that had fallen over the group. “This is a serious matter,” he started, concern lining his words. “We don’t need to fret over the church’s response. They’ve consistently shown vigilance and proficiency when handling transcendental crises. They’re bound to regard this with the utmost seriousness. On the other hand, the city-states present a complex situation, and I am dubious as to whether they can all establish an effective early warning system.”
“Then comes the question of how many individuals will heed this dire warning appropriately.” Through the shimmering crystal ball, Lucretia’s voice echoed. “In our world, we are inundated with apocalyptic warnings, most spouted by fanatical cultists. Now, with the Vanished sending out a sudden warning to the world, it’s reasonable to assume many will react as they typically do when faced with the Annihilators, if not worse.”
Speaking in a soft, almost inaudible murmur from across the table, Shirley interjected, “At the end of the day, it’s their reputation on the line.”
Expressionless, Duncan cast a brief glance at Shirley before shaking his head in mild disagreement. “The reputation of the Vanished is of substantial value. Even if there are those who choose to dismiss the content of the warning, they would still treat the warning itself with due seriousness. Whether it’s out of fear or respect for the Vanished, their caution will suffice!”
Agatha, with a husky yet soothing voice, chimed in. “I will promptly establish contact with the church.” She nodded, her conviction clear, “I’m certain that the Sanctuary of Death will accord this warning from the Vanished the highest level of attention!”
Vanna followed suit, adding her agreement to Agatha’s statement. “Once the news reaches the Death Church and the Truth Academy, it will invariably reach the Flame Bearers. I’ll make sure to confirm this directly with the Pope!”
In the midst of the discussion, Morris removed his monocle and polished it thoughtfully. “It’s been a considerable time since my last interaction with the Ark of the Academy. This might be a good opportunity to reconnect with old colleagues.” He paused before adding, “Though, I’ll need to make some additional preparations. Procuring the necessary ointments and herbal powders from the sea for communicating with the Ark of the Truth Academy isn’t an easy task!” At Morris’s words, something clicked in Duncan’s memory.
“What about the inquiry I had requested you to undertake earlier?” He redirected the conversation towards the scholar, “Were you able to trace the origin of the broken cross symbol that the Enders possessed?”
“I must apologize, there hasn’t been any progress thus far,” admitted Morris, a touch of disappointment lacing his voice. “I’ve dispatched numerous letters to my academic peers and even reached out to several universities with which we share a good rapport, but none have yielded any records pertaining to the broken cross symbol. At present, all we can ascertain is that it may have surfaced on some remnants of the ancient kingdom of Crete…”
“I understand…”
Although a wave of disappointment swept Duncan, he was well aware that probing into a cryptic symbol was akin to searching for a needle in an endless haystack, given the scant details they had. He did not dwell on the setback, merely responding, “Continue monitoring this matter, and inform me at once should there be any developments!”
Immediately, Morris bowed his head in acquiescence, “Understood, Captain!”
Duncan issued a grunt of acknowledgment, pausing momentarily to ensure no detail had been neglected. He then issued a light sigh, stood from his chair, and scanned the individuals gathered before him.
“That brings us to the end of today’s meeting. We have charted our course of action. Should any queries arise later, do not hesitate to seek my counsel!”
At the far end of the table, a sense of relief washed over Lawrence, who had held his breath in anticipation.
The meeting hadn’t been as bleak and frightening as he had envisioned, nor was it inundated with odd rituals or stringent, bloody regulations. However, the very notion of being “under Duncan’s watchful eye at any moment” had placed considerable strain on him. Being the “newcomer” in this setup, he had been on edge throughout. Now, he could finally ease up. However, just as he was about to heave a sigh of relief, he noted that the others around the table didn’t appear ready to disperse. Instead, including the esteemed scholar Morris, most of them seemed to be looking forward to the next session. Was there more to discuss?
Just as Lawrence was contemplating this, Nina’s voice rang out from across the table: “Ah, finally, we’ve got the business talk out of the way. Let’s eat, I’m famished!”
“Today, we’re having a feast. A grand feast!” chimed in Shirley, her voice ringing with excitement.
“Today being our meeting day, we have a hearty soup simmering in the pot. It’s the perfect time to serve it,” Alice declared as she rose from her seat, “I’ll fetch the serving cart.”
Bewildered, Lawrence watched the unfolding scene, struggling to comprehend the sudden shift in proceedings. He turned to Agatha, the person closest to him, only to find a similarly puzzled expression etched on her face.
At that moment, Duncan’s voice echoed from the head of the table, addressing the unspoken questions lingering in Lawrence and Agatha’s minds: “It’s our tradition to share a meal after discussing business. That’s the rule on board.”
“After business discussion… we share a meal?” Lawrence echoed, the surprise in his voice unmistakable. For a moment, he thought he had perhaps misinterpreted something. Yet, the truth of the matter became apparent when he observed the ‘living doll’ – Alice – wheeling in an oversized food cart back into the room. The ancient cart let out an incessant squeak with each movement, bearing numerous containers, each one brimming with piping hot… food!
Lawrence watched in sheer disbelief as Alice meticulously arranged the food on the table, with Shirley and Nina flitting about to assist in setting out the plates and cutlery. His nostrils filled with the enticing fragrance of the spread – freshly baked bread, a plethora of fruits and vegetables, and several other familiar food items, all unmistakably fit for human consumption!
However, the most intoxicating aroma emanated from a simmering pot of soup perched at the far end of the table!
Once brimming with the delicate, tender flesh of a mysterious fish species, the delicious soup now bubbled gently on the stove. The steam that rose in wisps from its surface lent an eerie illusion of life to the curled pieces of meat within, as though they were twitching and writhing amidst the hot vapors. But on closer scrutiny, this apparent convulsion revealed itself to be nothing more than an optical delusion, a phantasm that had never truly occurred.
Compelled by an inexplicable urge, Lawrence rose from his seat, his eyes locked onto the simmering bowl of fish soup. Unable to identify the type of fish that swam in this savory broth, he was nevertheless gripped by a powerful intuition that pounded in his chest, the cumulative product of years spent braving the boundless expanse of the sea. Despite lacking any form of supernatural ability, this “ordinary man” had developed an uncanny instinct for perceiving the extraordinary. It was a sense that had once alerted him to imminent perils, which could lead to tragic loss of lives and catastrophic shipwrecks.
“It’s fresh fish,” Duncan beamed at Lawrence and Agatha, newcomers to this gathering, “Caught just today. I had to travel a fair distance from Frost’s main island to nab it!”
“Fish?”
A “fish” retrieved from the treacherous depths far from safety, far from the sanctuary offered by the islands? A disturbing suspicion began to coil itself in Lawrence’s mind, but the pleasant Morris quickly reassured him from nearby. “Your instincts are correct, Captain Lawrence. But rest assured, it’s an integral part of the initiation process here. It poses no threat now. Aboard this ship, it’s merely sustenance.”
While Lawrence digested this bewildering information, Alice had already set a bowl of the steaming fish soup before him!
However, as she moved towards Agatha, Alice halted, her face etched with confusion.
“I can’t consume anything,” Agatha confessed, a slight blush coloring her cheeks, “This body I inhabit is nothing more than a lifeless vessel. It’s lost the ability to take pleasure in food.”
“Don’t mind that,” Duncan dismissed her concern with a casual wave of his hand, “It’s technically a ship rule, but in reality, it’s more akin to a social gathering. If you can eat, then eat. If not, a conversation is equally effective in fostering camaraderie.”
He paused mid-sentence to glance at the crystal ball resting in front of Tyrian, “Remember to eat your dinner, Lucy!”
“I’m eating, I’m eating…” Lucretia hastily assured him. “Luni has prepared baked apple pie and a salted meat pie for me.”
Upon hearing this, Duncan nodded in acknowledgment, a warm smile playing on his lips as he lifted the wine glass by his side. Raising it high as the convivial host of the evening, he declared, “To the day we’ve gathered here, let’s toast!”
The subtle sensation of vertigo that had previously clouded his senses gradually dissipated, as well as the spectral green flame flickering at the periphery of his vision also slowly evaporated into thin air. A refreshing sea breeze swept across the deck, momentarily piercing through his haze of confusion and bringing a fleeting moment of clarity to his muddled mind!
The events that had transpired during the gathering on the Vanished, the ghostly ship, still seemed ethereal and dreamlike, a lingering touch of surrealism infused within his memory.
Determined to regain full consciousness, Lawrence shook his head vigorously as if physically attempting to clear the fog from his thoughts. He then meandered to the edge of the deck, staring pensively at the sea that was gradually succumbing to the encroaching darkness of the night.
The faintly glowing silhouette of the Vanished, still afloat not too far from the White Oak, appeared otherworldly. The entire experience felt utterly surreal!
To be a part of a congregation on such a mystifying phantom ship, to interact with an array of bizarre entities ranging from sentient puppets, sun fragments, and creepy demons, to explore the arcane mysteries of ancient gods and apocalyptic revelations within the spiritual realm – it was all so fantastical!
And then, under the watchful scrutiny and witness of the shadowy being from the subspace, they partook in a communal meal, savoring flesh and blood of an offspring from the ocean’s depths!
Finally, as the gathering came to a close and the brisk wind of the real world caressed his face once more, the mental tension and numbness began to ebb away. Lawrence found himself regaining his human faculties of rational thinking as the peculiar and relaxed sensations from the gathering faded into oblivion.
Only then did Lawrence slowly begin to comprehend the “true nature” of the extraordinary episode that had just unfolded before him, yet he found himself at a loss for words to articulate exactly what he was experiencing at that moment. A regular individual would have been paralyzed with fear, petrified, or at the bare minimum, they would have been repulsed when reflecting upon the exotic “fish” they had consumed!
Yet, all Lawrence felt was an unusual sense of tranquility and a sense of belonging, which gently mollified his turbulent emotions.
The taste of that particular dish… was truly exquisite.
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