Chapter 66 “Good Morning On The Vanished”

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“Alice, be careful of your head!” Duncan shouted, his rough voice slicing through the serene morning air aboard the Vanished.

At that moment, Duncan, the captain of the ship, was standing outside his cabin. He gestured angrily toward a startling sight: the severed head of a doll, ominously suspended from a beam above. Irritation flickered across his face as he watched the doll’s body frantically twitching in a futile effort to reattach its head.

With a satisfying ‘pop’, Alice finally reattached her head. She scurried over to Duncan, a timid giggle escaping her.

“Stop that foolish giggling,” Duncan retorted sharply, his eyes ice-cold. “What made you think it was a good idea to hang your head near my cabin door so early in the morning? Were you trying to act as a lookout? We already have a dove for that job.” His annoyance was understandable; it was not every day that one came across a decapitated doll’s head at dawn.

“I washed my hair earlier and it wasn’t drying quickly enough, so I thought it would dry faster if I hung it in the morning breeze,” Alice explained softly, barely audible, shrinking under Duncan’s intense stare.

A tense silence followed her explanation. Alice looked up at Duncan nervously, “Captain… are you upset?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Duncan eventually said, a smirk nearly breaking through as he inhaled deeply. Given the oddities aboard the ship, like sleeping spoons and forks and a sunbathing bucket, perhaps it was time for him to embrace the ship’s unorthodox nature.

Alice was adjusting well to life on the ship, finding her own unique place in its community.

“Captain, you’re not really upset!” Alice chuckled, beginning to understand Duncan’s peculiar temperament. She respected him deeply and was becoming less intimidated than when she first boarded. She ventured to negotiate, “So, Captain, may I continue to hang my head—”

“No, not outside my cabin,” Duncan cut her off sternly, giving her a firm look. “I’d prefer not to wake up to a crew member’s decapitated head every morning.”

Alice nodded, understanding, “Oh, okay…”

Yet, Duncan remained skeptical, unconvinced such an incident wouldn’t happen again.

“Captain?” Alice inquired, noticing his scrutinizing gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that…?”

“Just thinking,” Duncan responded thoughtfully. “Considering you can lose your hair… how do you manage to regrow them?”

Alice paused, clearly shocked, her expression one of astonishment. After a moment, she grasped the seriousness of Duncan’s question. “I… I… I hadn’t really thought about it! Captain, you—”

Ignoring her unfinished reply, Duncan changed the subject, “Alice, although you move like a human, you have the body of a doll. You don’t eat or drink, and your parts tend to detach. Doesn’t that suggest that once you lose your hair, it can’t regrow? Wouldn’t washing speed up its loss, and wouldn’t combing make it worse?”

Alice appeared close to tears, “Captain, why would you even think of such a terrible thing…”

Duncan shrugged, “Honestly, I’ve been curious about it ever since we had that fish head soup.”

Alice, taken aback by his comment, managed to suppress a sniffle, “But I made fish soup…”

With a sense of correctness, Duncan countered, “But didn’t you drop your head while making it? So isn’t it technically ‘fish head soup’?”

Reluctantly, Alice admitted, “You’re right, Captain…”

As the day progressed, the morning aboard the Vanished gradually moved towards a deeper understanding and acceptance of their unique traits.

After their odd morning conversation, Alice retreated to her cabin, deeply absorbed in thought, while Duncan was pleased with his mischievous trick, heading to the map room for his usual breakfast of chopped cheese and spirits, reminiscent of his last supplies from the distant land of Pland.

“Captain, something seems to have disturbed Alice,” Goathead noted, sensitive to the unusual quiet. “She seemed preoccupied as she returned to her quarters, even slamming the door twice… Is she troubled by something?”

“She’s dealing with a significant existential question,” Duncan replied, raising his glass in a sly toast. “I think you might be spared her quarrels with the other inanimate crew members for a while. But something else has caught my attention…”

“Oh? What is that?”

“I’m curious, if a cursed doll starts losing its hair, does it eventually go bald?” Duncan shifted the conversation to the wooden figure. “Shouldn’t a supernatural being be able to maintain

itself? I wanted to explore this mystery further, but Alice rushed off before we could discuss it.”

For a moment, Goathead was silent, taken aback by the question.

Duncan looked at it, curiosity aroused, “Why so quiet?”

After a pause, Goathead spoke, “Captain, your questions are beyond my courage to speculate. You truly are the most formidable presence on the Boundless Sea…”

With a casual shrug, Duncan stood from the mapping table.

“I’ll be taking my leave,” he declared to Goathead, and with a simple snap of his fingers, he signaled to Ai, “You’re in charge until I return, as usual.”

“Of course, Captain. As your loyal first mate, I shall not disappoint!” Goathead responded, reinvigorated. Yet, its curiosity was piqued. “But Captain, you’ve been going on spirit walks quite often lately. Has something on the mainland caught your interest?”

Duncan paused, contemplating his response, “It seems that after a century of relentless change, the world has evolved into something much more intriguing than I first thought.”

This answer skillfully provided a plausible reason for his frequent trips ashore without revealing his limited knowledge of the current world. It also laid the groundwork for potential future explorations to the mainland with the crew of the Vanished.

Furthermore, his response reinforced his persona as “Captain Duncan,” the legendary ghost captain feared across the Boundless Sea.

To Duncan’s relief, Goathead accepted his explanation without challenge. “Ah, that makes sense, Captain. Over the decades, these city-states must have transformed dramatically, capturing your interest. I understand your need to break from routine… Shall we prepare the Vanished? Which city-state are you thinking of invading next? Pland? Lansa? Or somewhere further north?”

Duncan was initially pleased by Goathead’s enthusiastic response, but he quickly became concerned as the conversation turned towards a potential invasion. “Hold on. When did I mention anything about invading a city-state? It would be unwise to disrupt something potentially fascinating, wouldn’t it?”

“Ah… yes, you are right,” Goathead quickly corrected itself, “I prematurely assumed you were plotting a course towards those city-states… we should certainly abandon that idea. Direct invasion would indeed involve unnecessary risks…”

“In the future, let’s avoid any talk of invasions,” Duncan cautioned, his expression stern. “We’ve been detached from the world for over a century. My current aim is to keep up with societal advancements and progress, which may require us to make many long-term adjustments. Until I give explicit orders, let’s refrain from jumping to conclusions.”

“Understood, Captain,” Goathead nodded obediently.

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