Deep Sea Embers

In the remote and icy waters of the north, whispers tell of a group coming together under the gloom of darkness. This group is the “Northern City-State Alliance,” a coalition born amidst the eerie quiet of the northern seas.

Leading this formidable assembly is a figure shrouded in myth—the “Iron Admiral.” Commanding an army of the undead, he seized control before the escalating tension among the city-states, exacerbated by their prolonged deprivation of sunlight, could erupt into chaos. The first to align with him were the city-states of Cold Port and Morpheus. In the secretive ambiance created by the Sea Mist, these initial members solemnly pledged their allegiance to the alliance through a binding agreement.

In response to their unified efforts, a formidable naval force has now been established. This fleet stands as a guardian over the city-states left in shadow, navigating the perilous and mystifying darkness that the night has become. Meanwhile, a collaborative endeavor between the city-states and the church authorities has led to the formation of the “Sunlight Distribution Committee.” This committee diligently oversees the remnants of sunlight that plunged into the ocean. Their mission is to ensure that these fragments are harnessed to cast light upon the darkest corners of the night at the opportune moment.

Heidi, having absorbed this intriguing news from the paper, shifted her gaze towards her mother, who was seated nearby, illuminated by the flickering light of a candlestick. Despite the restoration of the city’s electrical power, which had bathed their living room in bright light once more, her mother preferred to maintain a candle lit at all times.

“Now, no single city-state in the north is permitted to keep a sun fragment indefinitely. The ‘Sunlight Distribution Committee’ circulates these fragments among the city-states, ensuring that no area remains engulfed in darkness for too long, which could lead to dangerous mutations,” Heidi recounted the information gleaned from her visit to City Hall, illustrating how the northern city-states have embarked on a remarkable initiative to ‘share daylight.’ This initiative involves large engineering vessels traversing the Cold Sea, each towing a fragment of the sun. These makeshift suns play a crucial role in safeguarding the city-states…

She took a moment to reflect before adding, “This arrangement has also revitalized maritime trade between city-states. Cargo ships now accompany the engineering vessels, ensuring that despite a decrease in operational efficiency, essential logistics and trade links between city-states have been reestablished…”

After a brief pause, Heidi marveled at the ingenuity of their efforts, remarking, “It’s truly astounding… It appears that the ‘Iron Admiral’ isn’t the tyrannical ‘King of the Undead’ that some rumors make him out to be…”

“Remember, rumors often stray far from the truth. Don’t forget, we still have the Vanished tirelessly seeking hope for us at the world’s end,” her mother replied with a gentle smile, continuing her sewing, “Is this what you found out from City Hall?”

“The newspapers didn’t provide all these details,” Heidi responded, gesturing towards the newspaper on the table, “I got this information from someone in the secretary’s office. The intricacies of the Northern City-State Alliance and the Sunlight Distribution Committee aren’t widely publicized, but they’re not exactly secret either.”

Her mother took a moment to reflect before responding slowly, “Is that so… It appears that we, too, will soon be part of our own City-State Alliance and have a Sunlight Distribution Committee of our own.”

Heidi was caught off guard by her mother’s insight; the thought had not yet crossed her mind.

“It’s a practical strategy for survival. In these times, any method that enables us to endure the night serves as a powerful incentive for city-state leaders to spring into action. If you’ve come to know of this, it suggests that the initiative has already gained significant traction among the governors,” her mother explained with a casual yet reassuring tone, “The northern city-states have established a commendable model… The ‘Iron Admiral’ has blazed a trail for us, and with the spread of this news, other city-states, regardless of their private reservations, are now compelled to consider adopting this strategy.”

“…But what if the city-states that have already secured fragments of the sun refuse to collaborate?” Heidi understood the logic behind her mother’s words but remained concerned, “Not everyone might be willing to share so selflessly, after all.”

Her mother paused to ponder before posing a seemingly unrelated question, “Did you hear about the church’s fleet docking at the military port west of Pland a couple of days ago?”

“Yes, the ‘Cyclone’ of the Storm Church and the ‘Logic’ of the Truth Academy, along with their escort fleets, were reported to have made a stopover during their patrol for maritime safety,” Heidi confirmed with a nod.

“That’s correct, Heidi,” her mother said, her face lighting up with an affectionate smile, “Now, why do you think the ‘Iron Admiral’ prioritized establishing a united fleet under his command as the initial step towards forming the City-State Alliance?”

At that moment, Heidi experienced a flash of insight. Despite her credentials as a respected psychiatrist and a distinguished scholar of the Truth Academy, she sometimes found herself a step behind in matters outside her field of expertise. But now, she understood the strategic importance.

“Let’s celebrate, Heidi. After enduring such prolonged darkness, it seems we’re on the cusp of witnessing something positive,” her mother suggested with a smile, gracefully rising to head towards the kitchen, “I’ll prepare some of our finest dishes, and you can retrieve one of the bottles of premium wine your father has been saving. He won’t mind if we open just one.”

“Oh… oh,” Heidi murmured automatically, standing up before a sudden recollection halted her, “Ah, but Dad has quit drinking. He gave away his entire collection…”

“In the basement, beside the white shelf, there’s a wooden box that appears to have just a single layer. But if you tug on a wooden block sticking out from its side, you’ll discover a secret compartment,” her mother revealed nonchalantly, “And, behind the storage rack, in the farthest corner of the basement, there’s a chest containing five bottles of wine. Feel free to pick any one of those to bring upstairs.”

Heidi was momentarily lost for words, “…”

As her mother paused at the kitchen doorway, she looked back with a look of triumph, “Did you really think I wouldn’t be aware of it?”

…

Standing at the bow of the Vanished, Morris was suddenly enveloped by an unexpected chill. The sea around them was tranquil, with hardly a whisper of wind, yet he felt as if an icy breeze was piercing through his brass-constructed body right into the oil pump and the compact steam core nestled within.

“What’s wrong?” Duncan, picking up on the subtle disturbances emanating from Morris, queried with a blend of concern and curiosity.

“It’s odd… my body, being what it is, shouldn’t experience cold, and yet, why do I sense a chill deep within?” Morris pondered aloud, pausing in his maintenance of his pipe, “It’s as though something invaluable has vanished into thin air, or as if an item securely stored in a bank vault has been stolen…”

Before he could finish his thought, the captain interjected from behind, his tone light yet pointed: “Your words bring to mind an old man whose treasures were pilfered by monkeys.”

Turning to face the voice, Morris found Duncan observing him, an inscrutable look upon his face.

“I’m unfamiliar with that tale,” Morris admitted, his expression one of genuine confusion, “What, exactly, is a ‘monkey’?”

Duncan paused, seemingly searching for the simplest explanation: “…Imagine it as a creature from another dimension, existing in subspace.”

Morris, struck by the concept, chose not to delve deeper into the mystery. Meanwhile, Vanna, who had been earnestly following their exchange, turned her gaze towards Morris, her demeanor growing increasingly serious: “Could this be an omen from the god of wisdom? Do you have a premonition of impending events?”

“It’s unlikely to be that grave,” Morris quickly dismissed the concern with a gesture, “Were it a divine sign from the Almighty, it wouldn’t manifest merely as a chill. It’s probably just my spouse discovering my secret stash of wine again—nothing to worry about.”

“Oh,” Vanna responded, her interest visibly waning as she redirected her attention to the captain, “Captain, when will we depart from these waters?”

The shift back to matters of the ship prompted a change in Duncan’s demeanor, marking the return to seriousness.

His gaze drifted towards the distant island, crowned by a grand palace and encircled by the shadowy outlines of Leviathan remains, as he slipped his hand into his pocket. The cool touch of metal against his fingertips was the “Second Key,” essential for the operation of certain intricate mechanical dolls.

“We’ll anchor here for half a day. I need time to decipher the ‘route’ provided by Gomona,” he declared with gravity, “Until my return, maintain vigilant observation of any activity, both aboard and in the vicinity of the ship. Pay particular attention to any alterations in the surrounding sea and document any occurrences.”

Morris acknowledged the command with a nod: “Understood, Captain.”

With that, Duncan turned on his heel and departed from the deck, leaving his crew to their thoughts and duties amidst the quiet mystery of the calm sea.

The atmosphere grew momentarily still as Vanna turned away, her gaze lost in the vast expanse of the dark sea islands that lay silently in the distance. She seemed caught in a reverie, her thoughts adrift.

“What’s on your mind?” Morris inquired, standing beside her, breaking the silence.

“Since I was very young, I’ve always dreamed of the sound of the sea—the gentle, rhythmic lapping of waves against the rocks,” Vanna shared in a soft, reflective tone, “After completing my religious studies, I learned to pray, and in those moments of prayer, I could still hear the sounds of those waves… The ‘Storm Codex’ interprets these sounds as the voice of the divine realm.”

She took a pause, letting the weight of her words hang in the air before continuing, her hand gesturing towards the eerily quiet sea: “But listen—there’s no sound of waves here. The sea is eerily calm, as silent as the grave, only disturbed by the noise of our ship cutting through the water.”

In her mind, the soothing cadence of the sea waves lingered as if offering comfort to an unseen sorrow.

“These are Her memories,” Vanna whispered, breaking the silence, “She told me She hasn’t witnessed the tumultuous sea in countless years—almost forgetting the sight of wind-driven waves cresting and falling.”

Morris remained silent, simply packing his unlit pipe, offering a quiet presence beside Vanna.

…

In the captain’s quarters, Alice’s curiosity was piqued by a brass key of distinctive design.

“I’ve got a new key!” she exclaimed, a mix of surprise and delight evident in her voice as she examined the key Duncan had given her, “This one’s different; the last one had a figure-eight lying on its side, and this one? It’s a circle pierced by an arrow. What’s this circle supposed to represent?”

“It likely symbolizes the ‘outer barrier’ encircling the Boundless Sea,” Duncan explained with a casual air, then looked at Alice, his expression a blend of resignation and fondness, “Don’t you feel the gravity of the situation? Turning this key could lead to unforeseen consequences.”

Alice pondered his words, tilting her head in contemplation. After a moment, she seemed to grasp the seriousness but remained uncertain.

“It seems… yes,” she replied, scratching her head, her voice carrying a hint of doubt, “I feel a bit anxious, but whatever comes our way, you can handle it, can’t you?”

Duncan paused for a moment, then let out a resigned sigh, a smile breaking through his solemn demeanor.

“Yes,” he affirmed, taking the key and offering a reassuring nod to Alice, “Leave it to me.”