Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 694: The Urging Bell

Anomaly 077, his voice raspy and strained, pleaded with Captain Lawrence. His loud voice carried across half the ship’s deck, drawing curious glances from the passing sailors intrigued by the latest drama surrounding this unique and notorious crew member of the White Oak.

Captain Lawrence, his hair flecked with silver, observed with a deep frown. He seemed to ignore the desperate pleas from the frail figure before him. Instead, his gaze was momentarily caught by two bottles of beer lying nearby on the deck.

Deep down, he believed Anomaly 077’s words. Although known for his unpredictable and often unreliable behavior, there was one thing he was consistently honest about: his involuntary physical reactions near the captain. This strange being, who seemed to dread the captain’s so-called ‘ghost flame’ as if it were a natural predator, surely wouldn’t have dared sneak into the captain’s quarters to steal, especially not with two bottles of beer left out as if to tempt fate.

After a moment of thought, Captain Lawrence suddenly looked up, a question forming in his mind. “Tell me, did Mr. Ted Lir leave the ship a little while ago? Were you with him before he left?”

Surprised by the change in topic, Sailor responded with a mix of confusion and surprise, quickly answering, “Yes, he just left. We were together for a bit; we were talking.”

Lawrence narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Anomaly 077. “And what, may I ask, were you discussing?”

“Poetry and songs?” Anomaly 077 blurted out hastily, then, noting the captain’s shifting expression, he corrected himself, “No, no… It was more about philosophical things, I suppose? Worldviews, maybe? Honestly, I don’t fully remember; our talk ranged over many subjects—the state of the world, future prospects, the essence of life… He seemed quite burdened, discussing such deep topics…”

He trailed off, appearing uncertain and slightly flustered, then added doubtfully, “I think I might have offered him a drink, but he didn’t accept it… Now that I think about it, did I offer or not?”

Watching the dried-up man’s gestures and facial expressions, Captain Lawrence’s brow furrowed in thought. After letting Anomaly 077 ramble a bit, he pressed further, “Do you remember what you responded in that conversation? Can you recall anything specific you said?”

Sailor stopped his mumbling, trying to remember, his face twisting into an expression of confusion and discomfort.

“I… I can’t seem to remember clearly,” he admitted, his voice filled with anxiety. “I know I said a lot, but I can only remember bits and pieces… It’s strange. Most of the time, it felt like I was just rambling aimlessly…” Anomaly 077 grew increasingly anxious as he spoke, “Wait, now that I think about it… I didn’t feel like I was speaking on my own. It was as if another voice was mingling with mine, guiding my words… Captain, do you think something is off here?”

“This situation is all wrong… It’s unmistakably wrong,” Captain Lawrence murmured in a soft yet firm tone. As he spoke, a subtle green flame flickered beside him, slowly spreading across the wooden deck in a quiet, eerie display. At the same time, a vast shadow began to materialize on the ocean beside the White Oak. The Black Oak, a ghostly and mysterious counterpart to their vessel, emerged like a dark reflection rising from the sea’s depths. Its spectral form, adorned with flickering lights, seemed to shift uncertainly.

Anomaly 077, caught off guard by the sudden and mysterious occurrence, quickly jumped aside to avoid the creeping ghostly flame, exclaiming in a mix of surprise and concern, “Hey Captain, what’s happening here…”

“We’ve had an uninvited guest aboard – though they may have already left,” Lawrence replied, giving Anomaly 077 a significant look. “Martha saw a figure in the reflection of our ship, a figure that doesn’t belong to our crew, standing right next to you.”

Upon hearing this, Anomaly 077’s face turned pale, transforming into an expression of sheer horror: “Damn it!”

…

“You were correct. There was indeed an uninvited guest aboard the White Oak, near Anomaly 077,” Duncan confirmed, nodding at Ted Lir. “When you mentioned hearing two voices during your conversation, it’s likely that one of them was this uninvited guest.”

Noticing a change in Duncan’s demeanor, Ted Lir ventured, “Has the White Oak sent any word? Did old seadog Lawrence manage to catch this intruder?”

“No, he didn’t,” Duncan replied, shaking his head slightly. “Whoever it was, they were very cautious and had left the ship before Lawrence and Martha even realized something was wrong.”

“Left?” Ted Lir appeared puzzled. “But where could someone go in the middle of the vast ocean…”

He stopped, a realization dawning on him. As a Truth Keeper, he began to connect the dots, considering the unfolding events with his extensive experience.

Seeing the realization in Ted Lir’s eyes, Duncan slightly nodded and asked, “Do you remember the specifics of your conversation with that Sailor?”

“I do,” Ted Lir answered immediately, then recounted his entire conversation with the “Sailor,” leaving out no detail.

As Duncan listened intently, his expression grew more serious. Finally, he nodded, “Exactly… those words couldn’t have come from Sailor himself.”

Puzzled, Ted Lir asked, “How can you be so sure?”

“Sailor doesn’t have the necessary education or background.”

Ted Lir: “…”

“It seems we can start to piece together the identity of our uninvited guest,” Duncan said thoughtfully, his voice tinged with concern. “The ideas he discussed are somewhat similar to the apocalyptic teachings of the Enders, but more logical and tempered. The person who spoke to you through Sailor must be a rational-minded Ender who was hiding on the White Oak and used Sailor to communicate with you.”

He paused, then continued, “According to Captain Lawrence’s report, this interaction involved some sort of mental ‘overwriting’ or ‘guidance.’ Sailor remembers being part of the conversation but can’t recall the details. His unusual behavior also suggests he was under some influence.”

Ted Lir’s expression grew more complex, his brow furrowing in thought: “I’ve never known Enders to have such abilities or to act in this way before…”

“It’s understandable that this is all new to us; until recently, we hadn’t even acknowledged the existence of rational Enders,” Duncan commented casually. “These subspace worshipers, who exist in the hidden crevices of time, are cloaked in layers of mystery. Sometimes they appear as monstrous figures, their forms twisted by subspace distortions; other times, they seem like scholarly figures engaging in civil discourse. Their existence in nonlinear time streams further complicates things. Frankly, it’s likely that no one has ever fully encountered a ‘complete’ Ender. Our understanding of them is limited, based on only fleeting glimpses at specific moments in time.”

“That’s quite a fascinating hypothesis,” Ted Lir remarked, his eyebrow raising in interest before his expression turned serious again. “To think an Ender could come so close to me, then vanish without either you or Captain Lawrence noticing… Their mysterious nature truly is beyond our comprehension. However, this ‘uninvited guest’ went through all that trouble just to deliver some cryptic apocalyptic message through Sailor… What do you make of his words?”

Duncan didn’t immediately reply. He fell into a thoughtful silence, deeply pondering the cryptic message Ted Lir had relayed from Sailor. After a lengthy pause, he finally spoke up: “What’s your view? Do you think there’s any point in trying to fix this world?”

“It’s not really about whether it’s meaningful, but that we have no other choice,” Ted Lir responded, shaking his head slightly. “Our world is like a ship sailing the vast ocean. Perhaps, as the Ender suggested, this ship is indeed leaking, destined to sink, beyond any hope of rescue. But what other choice do we have as this ship’s occupants? Our only option is to keep patching it up – surely that’s better than just waiting to drown, right?”

Duncan stayed silent, his thoughts unreadable, his expression one of deep reflection.

At that moment, a faint, ethereal sound of a bell rang out, reaching Ted Lir’s ears and briefly interrupting his conversation with Duncan. The Truth Keeper paused, his expression one of surprise. As he listened to the bell’s frequency and rhythm, a look of confusion crossed his face. “The Swift Bell…?”

“The Swift Bell?” Duncan repeated, his voice filled with curiosity. “Is that what this sudden bell sound we’re hearing is called?”

“Yes, it’s the signal calling the saints to convene at…” Ted Lir started, but he stopped abruptly, turning to Duncan with an expression of complete astonishment. “Wait, you mean you heard the bell just now as well?!”

“Yes, I heard it,” Duncan confirmed, his tone one of surprise. “Should I not have? It sounded quite clear…”

“Indeed, you shouldn’t have!” Ted Lir’s response was almost incredulous. “That bell is the summoning call from the Tomb of the Nameless King. Many years ago, the Church of the Four Gods developed a system specifically to contain and direct the sound of this bell so that only the saints of the Four Gods should be able to hear its summons.”

“The Tomb of the Nameless King?” Duncan’s eyes lit up with recognition as he began to grasp the significance of what he was hearing. “Ah, that rings a bell. Vanna mentioned something about this. So this is what she was talking about when she referred to the Swift Bell.”

Piecing everything together, Duncan stood up and scanned the room as if trying to determine the source or direction of the sound. He casually remarked, “The bell is tolling again—it seems to be calling the saints for a gathering. Shouldn’t you be heading to this assembly?”

“In theory, yes…” Ted Lir replied, his voice a mix of confusion and hesitation. “But something isn’t adding up here… It’s currently the Storm Church’s turn to respond to the bell’s call, and normally, I shouldn’t even be able to hear it…”

His eyes met Duncan’s, filled with confusion.

Then, the bell chimed again, its tone marked by deep solemnity and pressing urgency. It seemed not just a call, but a prelude to something momentous, a declaration about to echo across the world.