Lucretia, often referred to as the “Sea Witch,” had been sent skidding across the deck for several meters. The incident occurred so suddenly that Duncan was completely caught off guard. He hadn’t had a split second to react or even comprehend the situation unfolding before him.
It wasn’t until Lucretia, slightly clumsy in her demeanor, managed to regain her footing that Duncan realized he had unconsciously released the vibrant piece of paper he’d been holding. As he let it go, the paper swished in the air, soon getting entangled in Lucretia’s hair. She remained rooted to the spot, her face devoid of any emotion, seemingly still processing the shock from her unexpected slide.
Approaching the disoriented Sea Witch, Duncan tentatively spoke, his voice layered with a thick curtain of awkwardness so palpable that it felt like it could carve out a chunk from the deck. His voice also carried a hint of regret. “Lucy… Are you alright?”
Seemingly snapping out of her trance, Lucretia gave a slight shudder. She slowly rotated her head, her face transitioning from impassive to utterly amazed. She stared at Duncan, her eyes brimming with disbelief, before finally uttering, “How did you manage to do that?”
Taken by surprise, Duncan responded, “Do what?”
“The ‘shadow’… You somehow managed to catch it.” Lucretia cautiously said as if she was trying to pick the most appropriate words to explain something elusive. Almost as if to demonstrate, she stretched out her arm, which instantly disintegrated into a swirl of floating colored paper fragments orbiting her like tiny satellites. “Can you repeat that action so that I can witness it again?”
Without giving it much thought, Duncan extended his hand and effortlessly grabbed one of the floating papers.
In an instant, the airborne fragments of colored paper suddenly merged, taking the shape of Lucretia’s arm once more. Her face mirrored her previous expression of astonishment.
“This is completely unheard of!” The Sea Witch exclaimed, her eyes darting around Duncan’s face in search of an explanation. “Such an occurrence has never occurred before. Do you mind explaining how you managed to do that?”
Watching Lucretia, who seemed as though she was on the verge of diving deep into scientific inquiry, Duncan was genuinely befuddled. He eyed the piece of paper in his hand with a mix of curiosity and confusion. “Isn’t this just paper fluttering around? Is capturing it really such a big deal?”
Lucretia spread her arms wide in exasperation. “If the Phantom Wind could be disrupted by a mere touch or grasp of these papers, then it wouldn’t serve as my primary mode of movement. These aren’t just ordinary pieces of paper. They’re illusions. In theory, they should pass right through any object, untouched…”
Oblivious to this revelation, Duncan responded with a shrug. “I wasn’t aware. I merely found the papers intriguing and felt the urge to inspect one closely. I apologize… Did the fall injure you in any way? Did you collide with something?”
This left Lucretia momentarily speechless.
For what felt like ages, no one had shown Lucretia any kind of genuine concern outside of her brother. As the formidable “Sea Witch,” she was regarded with a combination of dread and awe. Rumors about her being the cursed captain of a spectral ship were rife, and this had turned her into an outcast in many eyes. In this isolating existence, comforting words and sentiments had become alien to her.
Her response to Duncan’s concern was, thus, hesitant. “I’m… alright,” she replied, her facial muscles twitching as if unfamiliar with the act of expressing vulnerability. An uncomfortable warmth of embarrassment bubbled within her, and in an attempt to deflect it, she dived into contemplation. “Your ability to grasp an illusion… Has this become a part of your powers? Is it grounded in a deeper comprehension of the world, or is it a manifestation of subspace influence?”
Deeply immersed in her thoughts, Lucretia’s innate curiosity overshadowed her momentary discomfort. Mumbling to herself, she speculated, “…Could it be that subspace does not differentiate between tangible matter and illusions of our world? Does subspace perceive every entity of our world as a singular ‘concept’? Could Clau Diventh’s theory hold weight? The notion that all entities are mere ‘concepts’ and they cast a unified reflection within subspace…”
As Duncan observed Lucretia’s self-dialogue, he eventually felt the need to interject, “Lucy… Perhaps you can delve into this later.”
Jolted back to the present, Lucretia gazed intently at Duncan as though she was attempting to decipher the enigma that he had become.
Duncan examined the iridescent paper fragment in his grasp, lost in the implications of what had transpired. He hadn’t anticipated that these delicate shreds of paper held such profound significance. From Lucretia’s reaction, it was evident that his recent actions had seismic implications.
Though he had successfully seized an illusion, Duncan was acutely aware that he did not possess the power to interact with phantoms. This conundrum flooded his mind with memories and theories, with a peculiar recurring image of fish landing aboard the Vanished.
After a prolonged silence, he whispered as if to himself, “It’s true nature… I don’t know…”
Lucretia queried, baffled by Duncan’s cryptic utterance, “What are you implying? Are you suggesting that you’re unaware of the origin of this newfound skill?”
Regaining his composure, Duncan seemed poised to unravel the mystery for his “daughter.” Yet, after several moments of hesitation, he opted against it.
“It has layers of significance that are hard to articulate. We’ll revisit this topic when the time is right, Lucy. For now, there are other pressing matters at hand.”
Duncan swiveled his head, captivated by the majestic “light wall” that had now spread to envelope the bow of the ship, the Bright Star. The luminescent barrier emitted an aura of undeniable authority and dominance, looming large over the deck and casting its intense radiance.
“Take me to the stone sphere first,” he instructed.
Lucretia, though acknowledging with a nod, seemed rooted in place. A mix of emotions, ranging from uncertainty to internal conflict, painted her face as she gazed at Duncan.
Sensing her hesitation, Duncan knitted his brows, prompting, “Is something amiss?”
Taking a brief moment to gather her thoughts, Lucretia delicately lifted her hand and pointed, “Before we proceed, could you… return that to me?”
Duncan’s gaze fell upon the vibrantly colored piece of paper he was unconsciously clutching—a remnant from their earlier unforeseen “experiment.” A brief look of realization crossed his face, and he responded with an apologetic tone, “Ah, my apologies.”
As he released the paper, it ascended gracefully and melded back into Lucretia’s arm, instantly reviving a previously faded and lackluster patch with a radiant hue.
The “Sea Witch” observed the restoration with a nuanced expression. She nodded at Duncan and started her transformation into a cascade of colorful papers, readying to soar towards the bridge. However, she abruptly halted not even half a meter into her ascent. Solidifying back into her humanoid form, she turned, her voice carrying a hint of caution, “Promise you won’t attempt to catch me again, alright?”
Flushing with mild embarrassment, Duncan replied, “…Certainly.”
Lucretia took a step forward but hesitated and looked back, emphasizing, “Should curiosity strike again, let’s discuss beforehand. Please, refrain from trying to interfere.”
Duncan, slightly exasperated, responded, “I assure you, I won’t. I may be many things, but I’m not impulsive.”
Lucretia hummed in agreement, but her departure seemed protracted. Eventually, she uttered, “Perhaps it’s best if I walk.”
With that settled, she embarked on her journey to the distant bridge, each step echoing her mix of caution and resolution.
As Duncan observed her retreating form, a myriad of feelings bubbled within. He couldn’t help but think how much more convoluted the situation could’ve been if Master Taran El had been present on the deck rather than in the sanctuary of the cabin. The mere thought of the potential fallout from a direct confrontation between the “Sea Witch” and him was harrowing. He shuddered to think that she might have considered silencing him forever, leading to a tragic end for Taran El.
Engulfed in this whirlwind of thoughts, Duncan exhaled deeply, seeking solace. At the same time, under the expert guidance of its captain, the Bright Star aligned itself perfectly, making a beeline towards the entrancing “light curtain.”
The vast expanse before him shimmered with a crystalline-like quality, bathed in the warm glow of pale golden “sunlight.” This ethereal light spread outwards, steadily encroaching upon the ship’s boundaries.
At the fore of the deck, Duncan was unperturbed by the approaching luminosity, allowing it to fully envelop him. He contemplated the origins of this golden flood and, raising his hands slightly, hoped to grasp or feel the tangible texture of this radiant cascade.
Prior to arriving here, Lucretia had regaled him with tales and specifics of this “resplendent falling entity.” She informed him of its persistent emission of rhythmic “light pulses” during a period when the sun had been extinguished. Although she provided a wealth of information, none could elucidate the “moon” nestled at the heart of the luminous structure.
Shielding his eyes, Duncan discerned minute silhouettes peppering his field of view.
The research stations Lucretia mentioned earlier became evident. Erected by the elves, they hovered in the center of the illuminated geometric expanse. Adjacent to these research hubs lay the mysterious stone sphere. A web of makeshift bridges and sturdy steel cables intertwined them, fortifying the hovering platform.
With diminishing distance, the intricacies of the “stone sphere” unveiled themselves to Duncan’s scrutinizing gaze.
The revelation dawned.
The all-too-familiar patterns, the play of light and dark across terrains, valleys, and craters mirrored images he had often encountered in literature and digital media, which had pervaded his recent recollections. It unmistakably resembled the moon.
“So, it truly exists…”
A surge of indescribable emotion welled up within him. It wasn’t sheer astonishment, for Duncan had experienced that emotion before, nor was it utter confusion, having ruminated over the enigma for an extensive period.
Currently, he was merely confronting and accepting a perplexing reality that had long been gnawing at him. A peculiar, unfathomable truth had manifested before his eyes, undeniable in its existence.
Guided by Lucretia’s adept hand, the starship decelerated its momentum. The ghost vessel, echoing an animate lost-home ship, came to a precise halt mere meters from the stone sphere.
Approaching the deck’s edge, Duncan discerned even the most intricate designs etched on the sphere’s surface.
The clarity of the stone sphere was astounding. With a span of merely ten meters, its detailed design impeccably mirrored the moon’s surface features. Far from resembling a scaled-down model, as he had initially perceived, it bore an uncanny semblance to the genuine moon, as though it had been magically shrunken to this condensed form.
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