Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 781: A Glimmer of Life in the Hourglass

Frankly speaking, Duncan experienced a fleeting but profoundly disturbing notion for a few brief moments—had he arrived too late?

He pondered whether his slightly delayed departure or an unforeseen hold-up along the journey had caused him to miss a critical moment. The Storm Goddess Gomona, who had seemingly been suspended in a state of death for ten millennia, might not have waited for him to make his entrance and could have fully succumbed to her demise. Was her consciousness now completely extinguished?

However, this outlandish speculation quickly faded from Duncan’s mind. He had verified that right up until the Vanished anchored next to this mysterious island, Vanna had been able to “read” the thoughts of the Storm Goddess Gomona. This indicated that, at least until that point, she had remained in some form of active existence.

Could it truly be such a remarkable coincidence?

Duncan cast a thoughtful look towards Vanna, noticing that she, too, was turning to meet his gaze. Their eyes connected for a brief instant before both awkwardly looked away.

After a moment of silence, Duncan softly spoke, “Let’s not dwell on it any further. Let’s head down and uncover what awaits us,” leading the way with the others trailing close behind.

They entered an enormous hall that seemed to defy conventional architectural principles, descending a spiral staircase that felt like navigating through a vortex leading towards a water-filled basin at its base. Nearby lay the immense, pale tentacles of the “Leviathan Queen,” their smaller offshoots intertwining with the dark stone blocks of the structure like roots, withering amidst the steps.

Duncan had the eerie realization that this grand palace, and even the black island supporting it, resembled a colossal, artificial “shell,” within which resided the ancient, divinely touched sea creature. As the creature perished, its body decayed and shrank, leaving behind numerous “chambers”—the corridors, rooms, and halls they were exploring.

They were traversing the interior of the creature’s “shell,” walking over the recesses left by the decaying flesh, drawing closer to the heart of the beast that had ceased to beat.

A greenish glow emanated from the stairs, piercing the surrounding gloom, as Duncan reached the area where the circular pool met the staircase. There, he discovered a slightly raised, arch-shaped stone platform. On it lay a mass of pale tissue, roughly the size of a neighborhood church’s roof, lifelessly sprawled across the platform. And at its side, on the platform’s edge… he observed what appeared to be remnants of tables, altars, and… human skeletons?!

Lucretia was the first to spot the skeletons. She paused, then swiftly moved closer to the stone platform, carefully examining the scene with a gradually deepening frown: “These aren’t the bones of standard humans or elves but bear a structural resemblance… they’re definitely some kind of humanoid.”

Duncan approached the platform, his expression serious as he surveyed the scene before him.

The skeletons were diminutive in size compared to the massive form of the Leviathan Queen, tucked away in a corner of the platform in such a manner that they were initially overlooked upon entering the vast hall.

“Who might have left these here?” Nina inquired, her voice tinged with nervousness and a hint of fear, instinctively seeking refuge behind Duncan. “Could they be explorers who preceded us? Perhaps members of the Sea Song?”

“No,” Lucretia responded, having just remarked, “these bones don’t resemble those of humans or elves—I doubt they belong to the forest folk either, as those individuals possess a distinct, singular sternum.” Breaking the ensuing silence, Anomaly 077 added, “And I recall… the crew of the Sea Song were ultimately enveloped by the mist and foam near the island, finding ‘peace’. It’s improbable they would have left any remains in this temple.”

Without a word, Duncan continued to scrutinize the items scattered amongst the skeletons with a grave demeanor—pieces of armor or clothing, broken weapons and ritualistic objects, and the ruins of a small altar.

Then, Vanna, with a quiet interjection, broke the silence: “These garments… they resemble what I witnessed in my visions, worn by those who once embarked on pilgrimages to this island…”

“A pilgrimage to this island?” Duncan replied, his voice reflecting his surprise, “Before the Great Annihilation?”

The scenes Vanna had glimpsed in her visions were undoubtedly from the era when the Storm Goddess Gomona reigned as “the Leviathan Queen”, predating the Great Annihilation. They hinted at the existence of a civilization that had thrived alongside the Leviathan, akin to the Elves before Atlantis’s downfall or the era preserved in Ta Ruijin’s memories. Could artifacts from such ancient times have endured to the present?

Duncan, marveling at the notion, examined the artifacts surrounding the skeletons. Outside the palace, remnants from the ancient era had transformed into peculiar black, shriveled matter or, as the sailors described, had dissipated into mist and foam in the sea, eluding human comprehension.

Yet, how had these skeletons and their accompanying relics remained intact?

Just then, Alice’s voice pierced the contemplative silence: “Captain, look! What’s this?”

Prompted by her call, Duncan joined the doll at her location, directing his gaze to where she pointed—a dust-covered object shrouded in tattered cloth near the altar’s corner.

It was a delicately crafted, ornate, and ancient hourglass.

After a brief pause, Duncan reached out, lifted the hourglass, and gently blew away the layer of dust covering it.

The intricate symbols and script adorning the hourglass’s surface came into sharp relief.

“An hourglass?” Morris observed the object in Duncan’s hand with visible surprise, his optical lenses minutely adjusting. Then, sensing something amiss, he remarked, “Odd…”

Intrigued, Vanna instinctively queried, “Odd in what way?”

Morris paused, reflecting on his observations before sharing, “It’s stylistically out of sync with the rest of the temple, particularly the inscriptions on the hourglass… While the temple’s outer walls are adorned with many runes, the inscriptions on this hourglass clearly belong to a different tradition. It resembles…

As Duncan listened to Morris’s analysis, a realization dawned on him:

Viewed from a side angle, the silhouette of the hourglass, with its two conical shapes pointing towards each other and encased by a decorative framework, bore a striking resemblance to… Bartok’s door.

“…It bears a resemblance to some of the sacred relics associated with the Death Church!” Morris interjected.

The sacred relics of the Death Church… artifacts associated with Bartok, the deity of death?

This revelation made Duncan’s demeanor turn grave. Piecing together the clues—the preserved skeletons and artifacts within the palace—he began to form a theory.

After a moment of deep thought, Duncan turned his gaze back to the motionless remains of the sea creature by the pool. He then gently inverted the hourglass he held in his hand.

The hourglass contained pale golden sand that flowed silently, too faint for the human ear, moving like mist through the “Doors of Death” mirrored in its design.

In an instant, the world seemed to fall silent, as if divided into realms of life and death by some unseen force. Duncan’s surroundings morphed into a monochrome landscape, where every object’s outline shimmered with shifting, ghostly images. In this altered state, all living beings disappeared from sight, leaving only Duncan, clasping the hourglass, surrounded by the skeletons, which began to reassemble and flesh out before his eyes.

The skeletons transformed into living figures—two armored men with stoic expressions and a young woman in white robes who offered him a smile.

Duncan, struck by the miraculous reversal from death to life, was about to speak when the woman in white robes gestured for silence and stepped back.

At the pool’s edge, the giant, pale limb, as vast as a church’s rooftop, stirred slightly, its surface starting to shimmer with a luminescent glow. Then, a soft voice echoed in Duncan’s mind – “We finally meet, Usurper of Fire.”

“Gomona?” With a hint of surprise, Duncan recognized the entity and glanced at the hourglass in his grasp, “…I hadn’t anticipated actual results. It was merely a speculative attempt.”

“Yes, your speculative attempt was fruitful—within the temple’s temporal flow, I was utterly deceased. This hourglass harbors a fleeting essence of life, intended to facilitate our communication under dire circumstances… Upon crafting this hourglass, Bartok had prophesied that you would inevitably turn it.”

Hearing the soft voice echo in his mind, Duncan’s eyebrows arched in astonishment: “Hold on, are you suggesting… you foresaw my arrival, my act of turning this hourglass, and even this exact conversation? Was everything orchestrated in advance?”

“Indeed, from the moment this sanctuary came into existence, its destiny was sealed. Usurper of Fire… For us, the concept of time does not resemble a river or a linear path; rather, we perceive it as a vast expanse, a tableau fully visible from our vantage point. On this ‘Scroll of Time’, all conceivable outcomes have reached their conclusion…”

The voice took a brief pause before resuming in a tender tone:

“In this grand scheme, your emergence, Usurper of Fire, marks the sole certainty at the tail end of this Scroll of Time. However, the outcome of this event remains unpredictable.”

Duncan, with a thoughtful look, shared his insight, “I’ve started to grasp the essence of time’s flow… What you’ve described is within the realm of my understanding, though initially, it’s challenging to reconcile with tangible reality,” he said, surveying his surroundings, “The peculiar flow of time within this temple… That explains why, upon our entry, neither Vanna nor I could detect your presence, and the discovery on the platform…”

His gaze briefly settled on the figures beside him before diverting.

“Seeing those remains led me to suspect a ‘discrepancy’ between the interior and exterior of this temple. Crossing its threshold seems to have ushered us into an isolated ‘branch of possibility’. What’s the reason for this division?”

“To prolong the ‘decay’ of the external barrier,” Gomona explained in a hushed tone, “We are succumbing to decay, Usurper of Fire. It was imperative for us to ‘seal’ our deterioration within, lest the sanctuary’s natural decay prematurely unleashes our corruption upon this world.”