Deep Sea Embers C.759: Piercing Through History

As the door swung open, Lucretia was greeted by two figures she recognized but hadn’t anticipated seeing at her doorstep. Helena, adorned in a flowing dress the color of the ocean, stood beside Frem, a towering orc whose skin bore the rough texture of stone.

In the distance, the glow of headlights cut through the darkness, belonging to a pair of nondescript steam-powered vehicles stationed near an intersection. A handful of church guardians, motionless as if they were sculptures, kept watch by the cars, blending into the night.

Lucretia’s expression soured at the sight of her unexpected visitors. “What’s with everyone’s sudden fondness for dropping by unannounced?” she asked with a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

“We apologize for the intrusion, Lucretia,” Helena began, her tone dismissive of the clear displeasure on Lucretia’s face. Without hesitation, she proceeded into the house, her presence commanding yet uninvited. “We need to discuss something of grave importance,” she continued, hinting at the secretive nature of their visit, eager to avoid drawing any unwanted attention to their presence.

Before Ms. Lucretia could even think of a response, Helena, the esteemed leader of the Storm Church, had already made her way past the threshold, with Frem trailing behind. He offered a clumsy apology to Lucretia, “My apologies, Ms. Lucretia. Helena has a way of taking matters into her own hands. We’ve come because we’ve stumbled upon something supernatural. It’s something that might catch the Captain’s interest…”

Lucretia, finding herself unable to halt their advance, could only respond with a sharp retort, “This is my home, you know!” But her protest fell on deaf ears.

Despite her usual aversion to unexpected company, Lucretia found herself powerless to turn away the determined duo. The pair, both high-ranking officials within the church, had effortlessly made their way into her sanctuary. By the time she fully grasped the situation, Helena and Frem had firmly established themselves within her home.

Inside, Duncan, already alerted by the commotion at the entrance, looked up to find Helena and Frem making their entrance. Helena was a familiar face, having visited previously with Lune, but Frem’s presence was a novel sight within the city-state, piquing Duncan’s interest. “Is it common for popes to roam about so freely? Especially during times like these?” he asked, his tone laced with a light-hearted jest.

Unfazed by Duncan’s playful ribbing, Helena seated herself opposite him with a seriousness that belied the gravity of their visit. “We come bearing a message from the divine. News from beyond the threshold of the borders.”

Duncan’s initial amusement faded, replaced by a sudden intensity as he pieced together the implications of her words. Even Lucretia, approaching with a look of impatience, paused, her expression turning to one of deep thought, recognizing the significance of the information Helena hinted at.

The room fell into a tense silence until Vanna, standing beside the sofa, ventured a guess, “The Sea Song?” Her words cut through the quiet, drawing everyone’s attention.

Momentarily caught off guard, Helena adjusted her posture, acknowledging Vanna’s insight. “You…” she began, her voice trailing off as she prepared to delve into the heart of their sudden visit.

Duncan initiated the conversation with a sense of purpose, “Had you not come today, I would have sought you out myself,” he said, pacing his words thoughtfully. “I’ve recently come across some information regarding the Sea Song as well. It appears our meeting today is more than mere chance. However, I’m eager to learn what you’ve uncovered first. What became of that ship?”

Frem and Helena exchanged a meaningful glance before Frem, with a somber expression, took the lead. “The Sea Song made its way back in the year 1675,” he announced, his voice heavy with the weight of history.

A hush fell over the room, a silence that was abruptly shattered by Shirley’s incredulous outburst, “What? Three hundred and twenty years ago?!”

After a moment of mental calculation, the room sank into an even deeper silence, during which Alice corrected Shirley with a gentle nudge, “Actually, it would be two hundred and twenty years ago…”

Shirley, momentarily taken aback, recalibrated her reaction, “What? Two hundred and twenty years ago?!”

Unaccustomed to such interjections in their discussions, the popes remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

Duncan, familiar with Shirley’s occasional lapses in arithmetic, swiftly redirected the conversation back to the matter at hand, “So, the Sea Song returned in 1675? How were you able to verify this?”

Frem responded with a grave tone, “We discovered a disruption in the usual flow of history—a gap, so to speak. I detected this anomaly and then uncovered corresponding evidence within the stone tablets left by past Flame Bearers…”

He paused, collecting his thoughts before elaborating, “In December 1675, a ship appeared on the eastern frontier. It was in such a state of decay that it seemed almost ghostly and disintegrated into the sea soon after its appearance. The only detail that could be verified before it sank was its name, ‘Sea Song’, etched on its hull.”

“This incident is documented in the Flame Bearers Cathedral archives. Yet, strangely, there is no other record or mention of it in any historical documents or files from that year. It’s as if this event was a shadow, slipping through a crack in history into our reality, observed and remembered solely by the Flame Bearers of that era. In essence, only the bishop’s account from that time has left any ‘mark’ on history.”

Morris, puzzled by the discussion, interjected, “Why would something like this occur? Is it a case of historical contamination? Or perhaps alteration…”

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Frem shook his head slowly, “It’s an instance of temporal discontinuity that led to this historical anomaly. The Sea Song must have been displaced from its intended timeline by some mishap, wandering in a 34567 temporal void before finally reentering our world at the ‘1675’ time node…”

After a brief pause for reflection, he further elucidated, “Imagine a tire rolling along, carrying countless specks of dust within it. If one of those specks were to detach from the tire’s inner wall and begin to drift freely, it could reattach itself at any point on the tire’s surface.”

As Frem detailed the concept of being untethered from the traditional flow of time, wandering without chronological anchor, Duncan’s face took on a contemplative expression, his brows knitting together in thought.

Lucretia and Morris, too, seemed to grasp the gravity of Frem’s words, their faces lighting up with a dawning understanding as if pieces of a complex puzzle were beginning to fall into place.

In contrast, Alice and Shirley, faced with a theory that ventured far beyond the realm of common understanding, remained visibly unaffected, their clarity of thought seemingly untouched by the intricate discussions of temporal anomalies…

Lucretia, breaking the momentary silence with a soft voice, shared a look of mutual understanding with Duncan, “So, that explains the experiences of Sailor,” she mused aloud.

“Sailor?” Helena echoed, her curiosity piqued, evident confusion on her face, “Who’s this Sailor you are referring to?”

“The first mate of the Sea Song. He still walks this world, though he is much altered from the man he once was,” Duncan revealed, choosing not to withhold the insights gained from Lawrence, and proceeded to share all that he knew over the next few minutes.

Helena and Frem exchanged a glance, absorbing the new information.

After a brief pause, filled with contemplation, Helena spoke up decisively, “I need to meet this Sailor.”

“He’s currently located near the small city-state of ‘Pland’, on the southwestern frontier, in the company of another group of my associates,” Duncan responded, his tone accommodating. “I can arrange for his return here at any moment, but I prefer to seek his consent first.”

Helena seemed momentarily puzzled by this approach, “Seek… his consent?”

Duncan explained, his voice laced with seriousness, “His experiences are beyond what most can fathom, and it’s possible that the Sea Song’s odyssey beyond the confines of our known world has closed a ‘historical loop’, causing his memories to resurface almost instantaneously. He may no longer be the person you remember as the first mate of the Sea Song, and he might not wish to engage with anyone from the Storm Church again…”

Helena’s expression softened, a mix of understanding and surprise evident, “It’s somewhat unexpected to hear of your consideration and respect for the feelings of your followers in such matters…”

Duncan’s response was marked by a slight twitch of his mouth, a hint of bemusement in his voice, “And what, exactly, is the image you hold of me?”

Helena quickly tried to correct any misconceptions, “A reliable captain, a respected explorer… We’ve had our misunderstandings, but…”

“Accompanied by an ever-present entourage of shadows from other dimensions, rumored to concoct brews from children and stray dogs from around the world…” Frem chimed in nonchalantly.

Helena: “…”

“That wasn’t my claim,” Frem clarified, looking towards Helena with a stoic expression, “That was a discussion between you and Banster.”

Helena, slightly agitated, retorted, “That was a gross exaggeration! And it was last year! Why bring that up now?”

Unfazed, Frem simply turned his gaze back to Duncan, maintaining his composed demeanor, “They indeed said that.”

A heavy silence fell, broken only by Duncan’s sigh as he turned aside awkwardly.

Lucretia, who had been quietly standing by, now visibly struggled to contain her emotions, her face a portrait of restrained indignation. Her silence served as a final gesture of respect towards her father.

Finally, after a moment’s pause, Duncan resignedly concluded, “…I’ll get in touch with Lawrence.”

…

“That’s the current situation,” Lawrence began, positioning himself directly opposite Anomaly 077. His tone was grave, underscoring the seriousness of the matter at hand. “Captain Duncan is eager for a meeting, and the Pope from the Storm Church is also awaiting your decision. Should you choose to, we can set off without delay. The captain has granted me the privilege of utilizing his flame to call forth a portal. Through Ai’s capabilities, you could be transported to Wind Harbor almost instantaneously.”

By this point, Anomaly 077 had managed to navigate the initial wave of shock and the bewildering flood of memories that had recently returned to him. He had found a semblance of his old self, though now he was grappling with a new wave of anxiety.

“I… am at a loss,” he confessed, his voice laced with the tumult of his inner turmoil, making no attempt to mask his feelings from Lawrence. “My memories are a jumbled mess. The days leading up to the Sea Song’s departure are particularly hazy. I recognize my role as the first mate of the Sea Song, yet it feels as though I’m looking at a stranger when I ponder this identity… and, perhaps more distressingly, I’ve misplaced that journal…”

Lawrence paused momentarily, his next words measured, “If it’s Captain Caraline’s journal that’s weighing on your mind…” He trailed off, then continued with deliberate slowness, “It’s possible that it hasn’t been lost after all.”

Sailor’s attention snapped up, a flicker of hope crossing his features, “Ah?”

“You’ve mentioned remembering placing her journal by your side just before Captain Caraline vanished, and that you’ve kept it close ever since. The truth is, it has always been near you,” Lawrence explained, locking eyes with Sailor, emphasizing each word with deep sincerity, “Can you recall what has always accompanied you?”

In that moment, Sailor seemed to be piecing together a puzzle, realization dawning upon him slowly.

“It’s the faint traces we discovered on your shroud,” Lawrence revealed, adding another layer to the unfolding mystery.