As the air expelled through the pipes, a loud, melodious whistle sounded from the upper deck of the Truth Academy’s Ark. The Vanished had just docked at the steam-powered pier on the far end of the Ark’s coastline. Clad in deep blue, the truth guardians and scholars stepped onto the gangway, ready to welcome their Pope.
On the stern deck, amidst the commotion, Duncan came across Lune, who had just left the captain’s private quarters.
This elder elf, robust and commanding, had been secluded for a lengthy period, deeply absorbed in a significant and enigmatic discussion with the being their people revered as the “Creator”. Duncan was unaware of the specifics of their talk, but he observed that Lune appeared both perplexed and strangely serene as he emerged.
Duncan repeatedly called out to the esteemed “Pope of Truth” until the leader emerged from his reverie.
“Your cathedral ship is close by,” Duncan indicated, motioning toward a colossal Ark resembling a small city-state anchored nearby. “A group of scholars and guardians are prepared to escort you back.”
Lune looked up slowly and, after a moment, acknowledged, “Oh… Yes, indeed, it’s time for me to return.”
Noting Lune’s sluggish response, Duncan let his curiosity show: “May I ask about your conversations with Saslokha? You seem… different.”
Lune paused, daunted by the breadth of their dialogue, and admitted, “We discussed… an extensive range of topics.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})Duncan, sensing the gravity of their meeting, commented, “It seems you’ve perceived the first mate in a new light.”
Triggered by Duncan’s remark, Lune regained his focus. After a significant pause, he asked, “…Why does He speak so much?”
Duncan chuckled, recognizing the irony, “Surprisingly, He’s rather reserved in His mythological form. What you’ve observed is more akin to His true self on my ship. We call him Goathead you know. He serves as my first mate and often the one steering the ship.”
Lune paused, then chuckled softly, accepting, “…I see no harm in that. He seems to relish the role.”
A silence descended on the deck as the neighboring Ark lingered, momentarily forgotten, until Duncan broke the silence: “What are your plans for managing the ‘truth’ of what occurred with Saslokha?”
Lune pondered the implications, stating, “The intricate details will remain confined to the upper ranks of the Four Divine Church. Like all divine matters, we’ll control the release of information, manage the reaction, and carefully consider the long-term effects of this event on our reality. As for the repercussions for elven society…”
After reflecting on the weight of their discussion, Lune shook his head slightly, resigned or perhaps accepting.
“The old eras are long gone, and the myths… let them stay dormant in the annals of legend. That is ‘His’ wish as well.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})Duncan nodded, visibly relieved by the prospect of avoiding further complications, “That’s fortunate; complexity often breeds trouble,” he confirmed. Shifting the conversation to a more urgent matter, he reminded Lune, “You must remember, this is now the third city-state that has been impacted.”
Duncan’s reminder instantly brought a serious expression to Lune’s face.
“Pland, Frost, Wind Harbor… Each city experienced a disaster, each unique in its cause and magnitude, each termed an ‘exceptional catastrophe.’ Heretics were blamed in each case, yet such a group alone couldn’t possibly destabilize the world’s foundation,” Duncan stated urgently. “These events indicate a disturbing disturbance at the core of our world. I need to know if the Four Divine Church has any strategies to address this, your insights, and what actions you plan to take.”
Lune responded with a silence as profound as a still lake, eventually nodding slightly in agreement.
“I understand your point… and now I see where you stand. It is time, I agree, to set aside doubts and forge a deeper alliance,” Lune declared.
“But there’s the potential backlash from the other three churches to consider, isn’t there?” Duncan inquired, anticipating challenges.
“It’s not just their potential opposition we need to prepare for… but also the will of the gods themselves,” Lune responded, his honesty reflecting the seriousness of the situation. “I will present this issue to the other three Popes at the first opportunity. Whatever the outcome, I promise to keep you informed. Moreover, the Truth Academy is committed to offering full trust and cooperation to the Vanished from now on.”
Duncan recognized the significance of Lune’s commitment under these circumstances.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})Just then, a new concern occurred to Lune, and he added urgently, “One more thing—word of Miss Vanna’s ordeal has reached me, and I believe… the Flame Bearers will likely be approaching you soon.”
“The Flame Bearers?” Duncan’s expression tightened as he considered the implications.
He glanced across the deck, where Vanna leaned against a column by the railing, her eyes closed, enjoying the sea breeze. His gaze, however, was drawn not to her but to an object nearby.
Beside Vanna stood a staff, as tall as a young tree, with a bulbous tip resembling a giant pebble and a rugged, unadorned shaft. The entire staff was adorned with engravings that suggested ancient knowledge.
This imposing staff was a gift from the giant known as “Ta Ruijin” to Vanna—as the ghost of the Nameless One faded, the staff remained, accompanying Vanna and her allies of the Vanished back to reality.
“The Eternal Flame, Ta Ruijin, a deity venerated by the Flame Bearers,” Lune explained, his voice reflecting the depth of history, “the ‘giant’ Vanna encountered in the Dream of the Nameless One, likely represents a memory shared by the people of Atlantis, a remnant from the merging of two different realities. Though only a ghost, it carries the essence of an ancient god, and the relics it provided have crossed from the realm of fantasy into reality.”
“The artifact… if I am not mistaken, it is thought to be the Chronicle Pillar, highly esteemed by the Flame Bearers—a similar item is on Pope Frem’s Ark, and it closely resembles what Vanna has brought. That item is considered the heart of the Ark, though it is much larger than this ‘staff.’ I’ve seen it myself; it looks more like a massive building…”
“Truthfully, the Chronicle Pillar on the Ark of the Flame Bearers is actually a ‘replica,’ modeled after depictions in sacred texts. The true ‘Chronicle Pillar’ has always existed only in myths,” Lune clarified.
Reflecting on this, Duncan said, “So, the item Vanna brought back is the physical manifestation of what’s described in the scriptures, the ‘original’ in a sense.”
“We can consider it the closest representation of the ‘original’ that we’ve discovered so far,” Lune elaborated carefully. “It’s possible that an absolute ‘original’ no longer exists in our world—the Cataclysm destroyed everything. Even as we try to recover our heritage from the Deep Sea Era, what we find is only tantalizingly close to the ‘original.'”
“It appears, then, that the ‘staff’ holds significant importance for the Flame Bearers,” Duncan noted with a nod, “Are you suggesting they might lay claim to it?”
“I can’t be certain. Pope Frem is known for his generosity and integrity; he doesn’t impose his will on others or claim what isn’t his. Yet, the ‘Chronicle Pillar’ left among us by the Eternal Flame has deep significance not just for the Flame Bearers but for all forest dwellers.”
Duncan fell silent, his eyes resting thoughtfully on the ‘staff’ next to Vanna.
His thoughts then drifted to the ancient longsword that was once thrown upwards toward the
sky, which he entrusted to the academic institution in Wind Harbor. To him, its value was in the ‘data’ it provided about another realm, not its supernatural aspects.
Similarly, while the ‘staff,’ a relic once held by the Eternal Flame, Ta Ruijin, had little intrinsic value to him, Duncan was driven by the ‘truth’ and ‘knowledge’ about the Great Annihilation; the physical item itself mattered little beyond the insights it offered.
In a world filled with mysterious and powerful artifacts, Duncan wasn’t drawn to objects for their mystical properties alone unless they furthered his quest for knowledge. His ship, the Vanished, wasn’t a museum for magical artifacts. However, the staff Ta Ruijin had given Vanna was an exception. Out of respect for his crew, Duncan acknowledged the emotional value Vanna attached to this keepsake.
“I wouldn’t mind giving up the staff to the Flame Bearers, since it holds a significance for them similar to the ‘Horro-Daso Epic’ revered by your people,” Duncan stated openly. “The ‘Chronicle Pillar’ is indeed a key part of forest folk lore. Yet, we cannot ignore Vanna’s attachment to the staff,” he conceded, recognizing his responsibility. “Given her past, which you know of, she values that staff not just as an object but as a memento from a ‘friend.’ Unlike the benevolent Frem you describe, my priority is to protect what is precious to my crew.”
Lune nodded solemnly, his face showing understanding. “I understand your position,” he assured Duncan. “I’ll make sure Frem is informed of the situation to prevent any upset for either side.”
Duncan acknowledged this with a nod, silently affirming their mutual understanding.
Once Lune departed from the Vanished, the whistle sounded—a melodious signal of farewell. Simultaneously, a plume of steam burst from the side of the Truth Academy’s Ark, resembling a white flag announcing departure.
The mechanical gangway, driven by the steady rhythm of steam engines, began its graceful withdrawal. It retracted with the elegance of a ballet dancer, folding seamlessly into the Ark’s side, perfectly blending with the coastal structures it adjoined. Then, the Cathedral Ship started to move away, its departure like a solemn anthem as it sailed into the sea’s embrace, leaving the Vanished in its quiet wake.
Duncan knew that the Ark would not be returning to the frontier soon—Lune had informed him of his decision to keep the Ark at Wind Harbor, providing support to this city-state as it recovered from a profound collective dream.
These matters were now outside Duncan’s immediate concerns. He had his own set of challenges that required attention and careful handling in the aftermath.
Turning, Duncan walked to the stern of the Vanished and reached the door to the captain’s quarters. With determined motion, he pushed the door open and stepped across the threshold into the waiting room.
