Chapter 40 “Landing”
Chapter 40 “Landing”
Vanna awoke with a start from a grotesque and tumultuous dream to find the night still deep outside her window – the cool, pale light of the World’s Creation shining calmly and quietly on the windowsill depicting the runes of the deep.
Yet the sights of that grotesque dream were still vividly reflected in her mind –
A ship, a great ship burning with green spectral flames, sailed from the line between the sea and the sky, crushing the entire city-state of Prand as if it were a great mountain crushing over it, and in the midst of the spectral flames, there were countless more shouts and bleak songs roaring in unison as if they were trying to topple the entire world in a drum.
And at the same time as the ship descended, she saw a blazing sun rising from the depths of the city-state of Prand – not the sun known to the world as bound by the ancient runes, but a burning celestial body like the “Ancient Sun” described by those who believe in the sun! As it rose from the depths of the city-state, the flames melted the earth, and all the people flowed through the streets as if they were melting wax.
The cathedral of the Church of the Deep stood in the center of this inferno of living fire. She prayed to the cathedral in her dream, expecting guidance from the Storm Goddess, but the cathedral only chimed noisily and meaninglessly, and no guidance came. ……
Vanna sat up from her bed and went to the window in her pajamas, glancing out at the still peaceful city and the sky of the World’s Creation, but the irritation in her heart boiled over.
After a few moments, the young Inquisitor withdrew her gaze from the city and went to the dresser near her bed, pulling open a drawer – the drawer of the dresser.
Inside the dresser’s drawer was a dagger, a curved ceremonial dagger, the runes symbolizing the Church of the Deep shimmering at the base of its blade, as if it were being stimulated by an inexplicable force that was “resonating” with it.
Vanna’s eyes lingered on the flickering runes for several seconds before she made a cut in her palm with the blade, and with blood seeping out, she placed her hand across her chest and whispered the name of the Storm Goddess in an attempt to seek guidance from the deity.
However, for some reason, all she could hear was the illusory roar of the waves, and the “psychic sensing” state that she used to be able to enter so easily was not moving today.
It was as if an invisible curtain had suddenly enveloped her, blocking the connection between her and the storm goddess Gemona.
Vanna’s brows furrowed a little.
Interference in the connection between a believer and a god was a very rare situation, but not unimaginable – the mapping relationship between subspace and the real world was profound and complex, and could not be understood by a mortal’s intelligence, and even the power of the gods would sometimes be affected by the layers of subspace, the profound ocean, and the spirit world and would experience a temporary change in its strength and weakness. Even the power of the gods can sometimes be affected by the layers of sub-space, the profound ocean, and the spiritual realm, resulting in temporary changes in strength and weakness, and coupled with the eternal turmoil and disputes between the gods, and between the gods and the ancient gods, it is possible that some believers may not be able to hear the voices of the gods in very rare cases.
But this should not be the case with the storm goddess Gemona …….
Boundless sea surrounded by mortal civilization, storm goddess power through all dimensions and affect the entire reality, all the gods may lose contact with the real world, even the god of death will occasionally leave a loophole like “reviver”, but only the storm goddess …… is not possible. The Storm Goddess is the only one who can’t.
This is also one of the reasons why the Church of the Deep can become the most powerful church on the boundless sea.
The problem lies in oneself?
Vanna rightfully began to wonder about her own state, yet as she looked at the palm of her hand, she saw that the cut she had just made had begun to heal quickly.
The blessing the goddess had sent down was still there, taking effect without the slightest delay.
Vanna once again recalled the noisy and grotesque nightmare from earlier, and the ominous signs she had seen over the past many days.
There had to be a connection between it all.
Ghost Ship Burning with Green Flames …… Ghost Ship ……
Vanna’s mind raced as she recalled and compared her knowledge of the occult, then her eyes suddenly became serious.
She was not an expert in the field of navigation, and had little contact with the outlandish, bizarre tales that circulated among superstitious sailors, but even in the orthodox church canon, there was a ghost ship that occupied a special place.
It was an ominous ship returning from subspace, and it was captained by the same horrible captain who caused the thirteen islands of Vesseland to be swallowed up by the collapsing borders a century ago, Duncan.
Vanna rose haughtily behind her dresser, but immediately afterward she remembered – it was late at night, and the Cathedral’s archives, like any other library, were closed at night.
And for security reasons, it would be best if she didn’t talk to anyone about the Dream of Omens in the hours after it had ended – if it did point to Captain Duncan “If the dream does point to Captain Duncan, it’s highly likely that he’ll be able to sense what the mortals are saying about him through the connection established by the dream.
After all, that is a …… “ghost” that can return from subspace. The best thing to do now, in keeping with the safety code, is to wait patiently until the sun has regained its dominant position in the world, and until the connection established by the dream has gradually dissipated, and then go to the archives to check out the relevant information, or to seek out the archbishop of the church to confer with him about these unsettling omens.
Either way, if these omen dreams are really pointing to Captain Duncan, and are really reminding her that the fabled Lost Country is eyeing Prendergast, then she, as the guardian of the city-state, must do whatever it takes to keep that horrible ghost captain from docking… …
……
A tall, thin, dark figure walked quickly through the deserted streets of the lower city, his long, lean figure casting a flickering silhouette against the gaslight.
A completely unfamiliar city, completely unfamiliar buildings, plausible memories in his mind, civilian neighborhoods that seemed cold and eerie at curfew time.
Yet Duncan was in an exceptionally pleasant mood as he walked down such ugly alleys.
He had succeeded – not only had he succeeded in his second spirit walk, but he had succeeded in controlling a body to the surface, to the surface of the city-state of Prand.
He was coming into contact with the civilized society of this world, he was observing the architecture of this era, the technology of this era with his own eyes.
And he was using an intact body – neither open-minded nor cerebral, this normal-looking body from the outside could make all his next actions easy.
Frankly, the health of this body wasn’t really all that great, even in a state where he could ignore most of his physical ailments while walking in the spirit world, Duncan could clearly feel the sub-health of this body, but he had no complaints about it, and even took it for granted.
After all, from the experience of these two times, Spirit Walking occupies corpses that have been dead for a certain amount of time – but can anyone alive and kicking be a corpse?
A distant barking dog came from the end of the street, and Duncan cautiously slowed his pace, hiding himself among the shadows of the building’s crevices.
He didn’t know if it was a patrol dog on the lead of the church watchman who made the nightly rounds, but it never hurt to be cautious.
Huge pipe structures crisscrossed the low houses above the nearby buildings, and the light cast by the Pale Wound cast intermittent shadows across the pipes, with the occasional steam leaking from the valves of some of them, creating a hazy mist in the night.
The barking of the dogs was far away.
Duncan stepped out of his hiding place and watched the street from side to side for movement, and casually calmed Aey the pigeon, who was moving about on his shoulder, before following his memory across the street.
Between a row of small, low-slung two- or three-story buildings, there was a stale door to a room, with a dirty signboard hanging above it, and gray and lackluster windows could be seen on the walls on both sides – a store, which didn’t look too small in size, but was obviously lackluster and poorly run.
This was where the fragments of memory in his mind had led Duncan.
He came to the dated door of the room and glanced up at the sign above it, a row of letters faintly legible in the darkness:
“Ron’s Antiques,” Duncan grunted under his breath, “Rather a short and succinct name ……”
With that said, he searched the doorway, and since the memory wasn’t very clear in his mind, it took him half a day of rummaging around to find the spare key from some hidden hook under the window sill.
The original owner of this body did not have the key on him, nor did he carry anything that would identify him or be used to find his way to this antique store, seemingly out of the caution of a veteran cultist – but to a ghost captain who could seize memories, these superficial cautions were meaningless.
Duncan opened the door to Ron’s Antique Shop and darted in before closing the door behind him.
The wooden door slammed, but the sound didn’t carry too far out into the night, and the sign hanging above the front door skewed slightly at the vibration, the letters on the sign wriggling up into the pale, cool night air, and in the blink of an eye, new words appeared on the wooden boards-
“Duncan’s Antiques.”
(End of chapter)