A fog hung over the ocean like a delicate veil, shrouding the mysterious islands that lay beyond the shipâs railing. The sea remained tranquil, in stark contrast to the enigmatic ancient temple that had once stood imposingly in the distance, now entirely obscured by the fog, as though it had never been there, to begin with.
On the shipâs stern deck, Sailor found himself seated atop a wooden barrel, his eyes fixated on the haunting mist at the horizon. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he seemed to be in a trance.
The quiet was suddenly broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, pulling Sailor out of his deep contemplation. He turned, his body stiff as if he were more of a statue than a living person, to see who was coming, lifting his eyes to meet theirs.
âMiss Vanna, good afternoon,â he greeted her, a hint of sadness in his voice, âAh, youâre really tall.â
âThatâs something I often hear,â Vanna responded casually, taking a seat on a barrel next to him. She looked out at the captivating fog that had so thoroughly entranced Sailor, âAgatha mentioned youâve been here all day. Whatâs been on your mind?â
âIâm not entirely sure,â Sailor admitted, sounding a bit puzzled as he shook his head. âJust lost in thought, I suppose. In this state, thereâs not much else I can do. No need for food, drink, or sleep â and thereâs hardly any manual labor required on this ship. It seems to run itself quite efficiently. The most we ever seem to do is clean up after Miss Aliceâs chaosâŠâ
Vanna listened quietly, allowing Sailor to speak his mind. Though he seldom spoke since they arrived on the Vanished, when he did share his thoughts, they flowed freely, making one wonder if he had always been this way, even in life.
As Sailor eventually trailed off, Vanna offered a kind smile and shook her head gently, âYou shouldnât talk like that in front of Alice. It would break her heart.â
âAh, I know. I wouldnât dream of it,â Sailor quickly reassured her, his expression becoming a complex mix of emotions, âBesides⊠I probably wonât get the chance to say it, anyway.â
Vanna looked at him with curiosity but chose to remain silent.
Sailorâs gaze returned to the fog, towards where the temple once stood.
ââŠYou hear it too, donât you? The gentle sound of the waves,â he suddenly said.
Vanna appeared slightly surprised, but before she could respond, Sailor continued, seemingly indifferent to her reaction, âSince we set sail, Iâve occasionally heard it â the whispers among the waves, speaking in languages I donât understand. They seem to communicate with me, just as I am now sharing my thoughts with you⊠Is it wrong, do you think, to speak this way?â
âThatâs a blessing from the Goddess,â Vanna answered, pausing for a moment as if choosing her words carefully. âSheâs aware of your presence. Her voice naturally reaches those who have faith in Her.â
âBut Iâve lost my memory of Her,â Sailor said quietly, a note of sorrow in his voice. âI remember arriving here, something important happening, but the days I spent as a priest in the Storm Church, offering prayers, seem to belong to someone else. It appears I can no longer be considered a follower. Itâs been two centuries since I last prayed to Her.â
âThe Goddess might not be in your current memories, but you are certainly in Hers,â Vanna replied with a firm belief, her faith unwavering. âThe Goddess remembers each of Her children, even those lost for centuries like you. As the âStorm Codexâ teaches us, prayer is just one form of connection; our true bond with the Goddess goes beyond rituals.â
Sailor looked at her with renewed respect, âYour faith is strong.â
Vannaâs expression softened, showing a hint of curiosity, âDo I not seem like a devout believer usually?â
Sailor decided not to delve into that question further.
âIâm nearing the end of my journey,â he suddenly said, his voice carrying a sense of finality. âThe captain has plotted a new course, and it seems my services are no longer needed.â
Vannaâs face showed she was about to say something, but she paused, allowing Sailor to continue uninterrupted: âAfter this last mission, itâs probably time for me to leave the ship. Iâll take nothing with me. These old robes and coats belong to a past era, destined to fade away just like me. So, you donât need to worry about settling any affairs for me, justâŠâ
His words were cut off by a commanding yet calm voice from behind: âJust what?â
Startled, Sailor quickly turned around, and Vanna also stood, turning towards the source of the voice.
âCaptain, youâve returned,â Vanna said with a mixture of relief and complexity in her tone, nodding towards Duncan before looking back at Sailor with concern, âCaptain, Sailor, heâŠâ
Duncan raised his hand, indicating he had overheard their conversation, and focused on Sailor, âGo on, you were saying âjustâ what?â
Encouraged by Captain Duncanâs steady gaze, Sailor began to speak more openly than he had before, âJust feel sorry for Captain LawrenceâI left abruptly, without a proper goodbye, without hinting I might never come back. The crew of the White Oak probably still waits for my returnâŠâ
He paused, then offered a smile filled with both regret and freedom, embodying his complex feelings.
âCould you relay a message for me? Just let them know that âSailorâ was proud to serve on the White Oak, even if it was for a brief period. Despite the constant noise and chaos, it was truly the happiest time in my recent memory.â
âI donât have any personal belongings to leave behind, but please extend my apologies to Gus, the White Oakâs first mate. I regret that the two pounds of fine tobacco I owe him will likely go unpaid. And not just to him, but also to the second mate, the boatswain, the stoker, the engineer, and the priestâŠâ
He paused, counting off a few names on his fingers before spreading his hands wide, a rueful smile on his face. âGambling never ends well, does it? This includes bets against people. I had also planned to leave something for you. I intended to write you a letter and slip away quietly. There are things that always felt too awkward to say in person. But, as you can see, things donât always go as plannedâŠâ
As Sailor shared his thoughts under Duncanâs understanding gaze, he took a deep breath â a gesture more symbolic than necessary, given his lack of need for oxygen, blending with the surrounding mist.
Facing Duncan, Sailorâs expression became serious, his eyes conveying a depth of sincerity that hadnât been there before. âI am truly honored. Despite my initial fears, I am deeply grateful for the brief time I spent with the Vanished.â
âYou are the greatest explorer and captain of our era. Iâm convinced that whatever you aim to achieve, you will succeed. I donât have proof, nor do I understand prophecies, but I have a strong feeling⊠Whatever you seek, you will find it.â
âSo, if there really is a new world out there, I hope youâll remember the story of the Sea Song and share it with those yet to come. Let them know that, in the twilight of our world, there was a crew who gave their all.â
âAnd finally, thank you. Thank you for everything youâve done so far, and for continuing to try to save this world⊠Though it feels cold and twisted to me now, I vaguely remember it once being a good place.â
With that, Sailorâs voice remained steady, his earlier hesitation and remorse dissipating like fog in the sun.
He then bowed deeply to Duncan, showing the utmost respect and gratitude, and upon straightening up, he turned to Vanna, drawing the symbol of the waves across his chest with his right hand.
Vanna, visibly moved, stepped forward as though she wanted to reach out, but instead, she simply reflected the symbol back to him, a silent exchange of understanding and respect.
âAre you sure you want to leave?â Duncan asked, locking eyes with Sailor.
âYouâve come back, so itâs time for me to move on,â Sailor replied with a serene smile, taking a few steps back. âIâll find a peaceful place to rest. Itâs been a long time since Iâve truly rested.â
Duncan nodded, his silence a solemn acceptance of Sailorâs decision.
Sailor walked across the deck, disappearing into the thick fog that had quietly enveloped the ship. His form faded into the mist, eventually vanishing from sight entirely, leaving Duncan and Vanna in a poignant silence.
After a moment, Vanna, unable to stand the silence any longer, turned to Duncan, her voice carrying a mix of emotions, âCaptainâŠâ
Duncan raised his hand to pause further conversation, then posed a thought-provoking question, âVanna, do you know how many times a person can truly face death?â
This question caught Vanna off-guard, hinting at a deeper meaning. She remained silent, her gaze lingering on the place where Sailor had disappeared, perhaps hoping for one last glimpse of him. Eventually, she turned her attention back to Duncan, ready to move the conversation forward, âCaptain, what are our next steps?â
Acknowledging her readiness, Duncan walked towards the shipâs helm at the stern, signaling a readiness to continue their journey without looking back. âWe have much more to explore. The Vanished will chart a new course â Alice is ready, and now, weâll test her ânavigationâ skills for the first time.â
Vanna, understanding the shift in focus, followed Duncan promptly.
At the helm, Alice stood beside the wheel, visibly anxious as she awaited further instructions from Duncan. The mop, bucket, ropes, spare iron hooks, and other deck items seemed to anticipate the significance of the moment, congregating around the helm as if drawn by an unseen force, ready to witness the unfolding events.
A rope gently nudged Aliceâs leg, offering reassurance or perhaps seeking comfort for itself.
Admitting her apprehension, Alice whispered, âIâm a bit nervousâŠâ Despite Duncanâs reassurances, her voice betrayed her anxiety, âEven though the captain said itâs okay, I canât help but worryâŠâ
The ropes, bucket, and other items nearby responded with a cacophony of clattering and rustling, their movements creating a symphony of sounds that, to Alice, felt like the voices of her âfriendsâ, each expressing their own nervousness.
It was clear that Alice wasnât alone in her feelings; the entire ship seemed to be holding its breath, bracing for what was to come.