Chapter 109: “The Fire Usurper”
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Duncan was suddenly overwhelmed by a sensation of plummeting uncontrollably through space, which severed his spiritual connection to the enigmatic entity he had been observing. Before he could react, the grotesque, giant form vanished from his sight. When his senses returned, Duncan found himself back in the chair inside his captain’s quarters, trembling and visibly shaken by the vision of a sea of flames tinged with blood that had seared itself into his mind.
After several seconds of numbing silence and internal disarray, Duncan gathered his wits and involuntarily muttered a cryptic phrase that seemed to echo in his head, “Usurper of the flame, extinguish me, please…”
Frowning, Duncan was certain he hadn’t misheard the words. He wondered if the celestial entity he had observed—resembling a sun yet grotesquely different—had communicated this plea to him. Had it sensed his intrusive observation and sent out a distress signal?
Rubbing his temples, Duncan pondered the ramifications. The entity was undoubtedly worshipped by the followers of the “Ancient True Sun,” their version of the “real sun.” During the brief moment he had glimpsed the celestial object, he was astounded by its appearance. From one angle, it looked like the stars he remembered from Earth—ablaze with cosmic energy. However, its other side was an utterly disconcerting sight: a gigantic eyeball surrounded by sickly, withering tentacles coiled around the eye’s pupils.
The entity seemed far from well; it looked as if it were dead, oozing a palpable sense of lifelessness even from a distance. Duncan concluded he had been observing the burning corpse of an ancient god, which now seemed to be asking him for help, for someone to extinguish the eternal flame consuming it. This idea, both contradictory and horrific, felt strangely appropriate in a universe where logic often seemed absent.
Slowly, Duncan began to organize his jumbled thoughts. He recalled that during his brief spying on the entity, it had referred to him as the “usurper of the flame.” Could it be that this celestial mass of flesh and fire had sensed his presence and specifically reached out to him?
If the entity’s plea was indeed directed at him, its message was clear. Duncan lowered his gaze and gently rubbed his fingers together, a cluster of green flame flickering quietly at their tips, as if he were ready to claim or “usurp” other supernatural forces in the cosmos. With a thought, he extinguished the ethereal green flame, leaving him in contemplative silence.
Regardless of whether the celestial entity, which resembled a sun, was communicating with him, Duncan knew this was not a dilemma he could address now. He was still dealing with the immediate threat posed by a group of cultists in the Pland city-state. He neither had the capability nor the authority to confront the enigmatic “sun god” that seemed to be the spiritual focus of this underground cult.
Even if he wanted to help the burning celestial body, how could he? His own spectral green flame was minuscule compared to the massive entity he had witnessed. Even if he poured every ounce of his energy into it, it would hardly make a dent. Moreover, just because the entity had reached out for help didn’t mean it was an ally. What if extinguishing the flames would unseal some terrible force? The enormous creature might not possess human sensibilities and could easily annihilate him, considering the malevolence of its cultist followers.
Acting impulsively in the face of such god-like power, without adequate understanding, would be recklessly unwise. Duncan shook his head, lamenting his lack of knowledge. He considered the grim possibility that he might never encounter the pure, unadulterated “sunshine” from his Earthly life in this peculiar world again.
He glanced at the table where a golden mask lay, fashioned to resemble the sun, now tarnished after his otherworldly excursion. As he picked it up and ran his fingers along its contours, he heard a faint cracking sound. Despite being made of iron with a copper overlay, the mask seemed to have undergone rapid corrosion, as if it had weathered a million years in moments. Before he knew it, the mask crumbled to dust in his hands.
At that moment, Ai, his pet bird, fluttered over and spread her wings in front of him, miming something akin to “Happy, pop, gone!”
Duncan hardly paid attention to Ai’s antics, absorbed in his realizations. The mask had been nothing but a cheap imitation—a “mass-produced holy relic.” It was only natural that using it would come with unintended consequences.
“Perhaps, in the future, I’ll need to find the real artifact…” Duncan mused, watching the dust particles float away. “At this rate, this fake can’t even withstand a few seconds of exposure to real power.”
Though he had no intentions of “saving” any sun god, Duncan remained keenly interested in the secrets harbored by the sun-worshipping cultists and the world’s history before the Great Annihilation. He suspected unraveling these mysteries would bring him face-to-face with groundbreaking truths.
Every researcher understands that science often demands significant financial backing, and Duncan saw the followers of the ‘True Black Sun’ as a potential source of that funding. These “cult sheep,” as he thought of them, should be sheared for all the “wool” they could provide. His interests were not solely academic; there was a pragmatic aspect to his curiosity.
After a brief respite to gather his thoughts, Duncan stepped out of his bedroom. Goathead statue, absentmindedly perusing a mapping table, immediately swiveled its head at the sound of movement. First, it checked if Duncan was alone or accompanied by the dove, and upon seeing Duncan, it visibly exhaled a sigh of relief.
“Ah, great captain, your ever-loyal first mate has maintained steadfast control over the ship in your absence. How went your distant voyage? I sensed your soul venture to some far-off place again—though clearly not a city-state inhabited by humans. If you plan to go that far next time, perhaps you might consider some advance planning…”
Ignoring the statue’s ramblings, Duncan cut to the chase. “How much do you know about the ‘true sun god’ worshipped by those sun followers?”
Having spent time with this goathead statue, Duncan was accustomed to its quirks. He felt confident enough to speak freely, reserving caution for only the most sensitive topics related to the mysterious Vanished. Otherwise, he felt he could ask anything, just as he was doing now.
Goathead looked momentarily startled, then hesitated. “To be honest, my knowledge is limited. I know that these sun followers are zealots and quite foolish, but as to the actual identity of the deity they worship… I haven’t the faintest idea. What I do know is that the blessings they claim to receive are real; it’s part of why their faith has spread so broadly over the years.”
As it spoke, the statue sensed something unusual in Duncan’s inquiry. “Why this sudden interest? Did something happen?”
Duncan leaned back, exuding confidence. “I was just pondering how these followers would react if they discovered that their revered god is being tormented by their worship. That the blessings they work so hard to earn are merely byproducts of decaying fluids oozing from a burning corpse. It would be deeply ironic, don’t you think? A rather macabre joke.”
A weighty silence enveloped the room, during which Goathead statue seemed hesitant to continue the conversation on such a shocking topic. Finally, Duncan broke the silence with an inquisitive glance. “What’s the matter? You’re usually so talkative, commenting on this or that. Why so quiet all of a sudden?”
Goathead statue finally spoke, its tone tinged with a sense of defeat. “The subject matter is highly sensitive… I hesitate to offer any additional commentary. All I can say is that the captain possesses great wisdom.”
A surge of satisfaction filled Duncan at having stumped the usually loquacious statue.
As he reflected on the exchange, he wondered if his perception of Goathead—and the ship as a whole—was changing. Previously, he’d considered the statue malevolent and dangerous, a relic of darker times and intentions. Yet now, that sinister impression seemed to be diminishing. It was as if the ship itself, once a domain of darkness and lurking dangers, was transforming, mirroring his evolving views and growing confidence.
Could it be that the environment was becoming more vibrant, more animated—simply better—in response to his shifting mindset? Perhaps his newfound knowledge and understanding were altering not just his perception of his surroundings, but also how those surroundings responded to him. It was a tantalizing thought, and Duncan felt a newfound sense of control and purpose as he navigated through this ever-changing, enigmatic world.
This is LoTM if it was a swashbuckler fantasy
With none of the ship action when can we get steam powered Vanished smh
Oh man, I don’t want this terrifying disaster of the sea to turn into some fairy tale ship.