Duncan watched intently as Anomaly 132 Lock, an odd artifact, deftly unlocked itself. The object seemed almost alive, wriggling free from its fixed position and hopping across the table to a more accessible spot.
With determined steps, Duncan approached a heavy, intricately carved dark wooden box. He opened it with great care and reverence, revealing its contentsa meticulously carved wooden goats head. He lifted it gently and placed it prominently on the ships navigation table, ensuring it was clearly visible.
At the tables edge, the First Mate turned its attention to the newly placed sculpture. This First Mate, also a wooden construct, seemed captivated by the goat head, which bore a striking resemblance to itself. Their obsidian eyes met, engaging in a silent, profound dialogue. As their gaze lingered, time seemed to stretch until the First Mate, in a tone of wonder, exclaimed, Wow~
Intrigued by this reaction, Duncan raised an eyebrow and questioned, Is that really all you have to say about it?
The First Mate pondered thoughtfully, its head rotating and tilting on its creaky neck as it examined the sculpture from various angles. Its just so astonishing, it remarked. I sensed something unusual when you returned to the ship, and I suspected you would retrieve this Dream Skull from that other ship. Its not surprising that you did, but to see another head that looks just like mine is still incredible
Suddenly, the First Mate paused, its voice filled with confusion, Why doesnt it move at all?
Amused, Duncan responded, Youre asking me? But isnt it essentially your own head?
Defensively, the First Mate replied, But this is unfamiliar to me. Before our trip to Wind Harbor, I wasnt even aware that I had a spine
Duncan was briefly taken aback by this strange exchange.
A surreal, eerie silence followed briefly. Then, driven by curiosity, the First Mate stretched its neck towards the Dream Skull, and requested, Can you bring it a bit closer?
Duncan complied, moving the static Dream Skull nearer. Like this? he inquired, observing the First Mates reaction closely. Do you feel any connection?
Perhaps a little closer? suggested the Goathead.
Duncan obliged, shifting the sculpture closer until he finally placed the Dream Skull right against the First Mates forehead, allowing the two wooden goat heads to touch. How about now? Is this close enough? Do you sense anything?
Enough, enough the First Mate quickly recoiled, almost protesting. Once Duncan set the Dream Skull back on the table, the First Mate sighed in a surprisingly human manner, Still no real sensation I can sense its presence intensely, but I cant establish any form of communication with this head. There are no thoughts, no memories to perceive. It doesnt react to me at all
After reflecting for a moment, the First Mate shook its head, expressing a sense of disconnection. It feels like an empty vessel, it explained. It exists and seems to have originated from the same source as me, but beyond that, theres no connection. We seem to be entirely separate entities.
Duncan listened intently, his brow furrowed in deep thought.
This is quite unexpected, he remarked, his frown deepening. This piece is another fragment of Saslokha, and although it might be a more severely damaged part, I expected some distinctive characteristics. The cultists sacrificial rituals suggested that the Dream Skull had some kind of activity So why is there no response when it contacts you?
Im not sure, the First Mate admitted, but I can definitely affirm the reality of this head. I can feel its presence. Its a subtle, almost indescribable sensation Maybe the way were trying to connect is wrong? Or perhaps the cultists rituals, using elf blood, somehow interfered?
Duncans expression turned serious and contemplative. He looked at the First Mate and mused, Those cultists certainly complicated things. But isnt it strange to think of your other head as being damaged?
Its odd, yes, but Im at a loss for words, the First Mate admitted, its voice reflecting resignation. Considering my current fragmented statebroken and scatteredwhat more can I say?
Duncan remained silent and thoughtful as he noticed a change in the First Mates demeanor since the Wind Harbor incident, observing a newfound ease
Shaking off these thoughts, Duncan gently patted the inert Dream Skull.
Regardless, the current state of the Dream Skull is certainly strange. It might have been altered by the cultists actions, or perhaps we havent found the right way to awaken it. It might even be missing something crucial. For now, Ill leave it here under your watch. See if you notice any changes. What do you think?
Ill follow your orders, the First Mate quickly agreed. Im also curious about this head. It will be interesting to study it when time permits.
Duncan nodded slightly in acknowledgment: Good.
He then turned his gaze toward the window.
The sun had already set one-third below the seas horizon. Unbeknownst to them, dusk was approaching. The fading light of Vision 001 cast a magnificent golden-red glow over the Boundless Sea. In the opposite direction, the luminous round object near Wind Harbor shone with a dazzling golden light, becoming even more brilliant as dusk deepened. Against this backdrop of mingling lights, the distant city-state looked almost otherworldly.
How long could such a tranquil sunset last?
This question crossed Duncans mind unexpectedly. But he quickly exhaled softly, dismissing these thoughts.
Duncan outlined his plan: Ill take a short rest in my room. Once Lucretia has finished her tasks, well head to the city together. Meanwhile, please make sure the Vanished is well cared for.
Yes, Captain, came the prompt reply.
Duncan then stood up, intending to head to the bedroom at the back of the captains cabin. Mid-stride, however, he paused, casting a curious look at the First Mate stationed on the table. You mentioned youd study this Dream Skull. But how exactly do you plan to do that, given you lack hands?
The First Mate seemed to consider this for a moment before confidently raising its head. Thats a valid question, it pondered. My approach will be to attempt communication with it. The cultists might have forced it into a shell-like state. Perhaps a bit of dialogue from me could coax it into opening up
Duncan was skeptical about the potential success of this research endeavor.
Nevertheless, he offered no comment, only giving the First Mate a supportive yet somewhat doubtful look of good luck. He then waved his hand in farewell and proceeded to enter his bedroomthe dark and imposing door closing behind him with a resonant thud.
In the now solitary captains cabin, the two wooden goat heads, each wrapped in its own silence, were the only occupants.
A short while later, the First Mate turned its attention to the stationary Dream Skull.
Have you ever heard about the eighteen cuisines of the Boundless Sea? it ventured.
Duncan had barely drifted off when he was abruptly awakened by a strange, monotonous rumbling sound.
He sprang up from his bed, alert, but by the time he fully awoke, the cabin, both inside and out, had returned to an eerie stillness.
The bedroom was dimly lit by a lantern on his desk, casting a weak glow. Outside the window, the night had enveloped everything in darkness, clearly indicating that evening had long passed. The ships corridor and deck were eerily quiet, devoid even of the usual sound of waves lapping against the hull.
Duncan sat on the edge of his bed, surrounded by the enveloping darkness, feeling an inexplicable sense of unease rising within him. He reflected on the events before he retired to his room, then noticed something peculiar about his surroundings.
The silence was profoundthe absence of the seas rhythmic sounds was abnormal, and the night sky outside was unnaturally dark. The usual glow from the geometric structure near Wind Harbor was missing, along with the crisp, celestial light that the Worlds Creation typically cast over the sea.
Feeling increasingly uneasy, Duncan quickly got up from his bed and moved to stand by the window near his desk.
Outside, in the vast and dark expanse of space, a turbulent, faint stream of light silently swept across the distant horizon. For a brief moment, it illuminated a massive, twisted shadow that gradually emerged at the edge of Duncans vision, quietly undulating and shifting.
Subspace!
This realization hit Duncan with intense clarity. He immediately understood the supernatural situation he found himself in.
Had he inadvertently drifted into subspace once more?
He vividly remembered his first encounter with subspace, which had also followed a brief rest. At that time, he had dismissed it as a peculiar dreama solitary, almost forgotten voyage into this mysterious time-space dimension.
And now, the same surreal experience was happening again.
With a mix of concern and heightened alertness, Duncan promptly summoned a small flame, carefully concealing it within his palm. He then moved towards the bedroom door with deliberate caution.
This was no mere sleepwalking episode to him. He was certain he wasnt dreaming. Although the reasons were unclear, dreams seemed to be an experience beyond his usual understanding.
Reaching the bedroom door, he paused, listening intently for any sounds from the other side. Then, gently and slowly, he pushed the door open.
The captains cabin beyond was shrouded in grim, somber silence. It was a scene reminiscent of his previous encounter: another decrepit version of the Vanished lay before him, appearing as if it had been abandoned for centuries. Warped shelves clung to the corners, a tarnished oval mirror was affixed to a cracked and blemished wall, and the floor was strewn with dark, ominous shadows and debris. Amidst this desolation, only a navigation table stood out, solitary and intact in the center of the room. On it lay a mysterious sea chart, emitting a faint, ghostly glow.
On the table, a black wooden goat head slowly raised its head to meet Duncans gaze.