Chapter 164 “Call No Answer”

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Alice departed with an unmistakable joy and energy that suggested her happiness would last for many days to come. Duncan, contrasting Alice’s elation, was left standing by himself on the deck of the ship. His eyes were intently focused on a wooden box that had “Nilu” inscribed on its surface.

Simultaneously, Duncan had been operating another “avatar” located within Pland. After vacating the bustling upper district, this avatar was now on a bicycle, making its way back to an old antique store. Prior to departing from a store that specialized in dolls, Duncan’s avatar had a detailed conversation with its elderly proprietor about two individuals named Lucretia and Tyrian. Regrettably, this discussion did not yield much new insight for Duncan.

The elderly store owner, for her part, had clarified that she was merely an average citizen. Even though she had outlived many of her peers and witnessed many historical events, her understanding was inherently limited. She only had a fleeting interaction and second-hand accounts to share about Lucretia and Tyrian, both of whom had some connection to Duncan.

Aboard the Vanished, Duncan was engrossed in contemplation.

An important realization dawned on him: the body he currently inhabited had descendants — specifically, two children who were very much alive and active in this world. But these were no ordinary children. One had served the powerful Frost Queen and had since risen to prominence as a formidable pirate leader in the frigid waters. The other frequently traveled to the fringes of settled regions, embarking on enigmatic journeys, and was esteemed among seafaring captains as the “Sea Witch.”

This revelation of having such prominent offsprings in this world left Duncan with mixed feelings of anxiety and apprehension.

As the current captain of the Vanished, he understood the importance of maintaining this persona for the time being. Yet, he grappled with the uncertainty of potentially encountering these children in the future. How should he behave? Embrace them with fatherly affection or maintain a detached demeanor? Should he acknowledge them, or would it be best to act as if they were strangers?

The narrative shared by the elderly store owner hinted at a turbulent past where the siblings had a significant conflict with their father. As a result, their vessels, the “Sea Mist” and the “Bright Star,” had taken separate courses from Duncan’s primary ship, the Vanished. This separation was a result of an unknown family disagreement. Alas, the intricate details of this event were a secret, shared only by those directly involved.

Letting out a soft sigh, Duncan knew one fact for certain. The deep familial ties that once connected him with the siblings were most likely broken. Should their paths cross, a heartwarming reunion seemed unlikely.

Leaning down, Duncan carefully lifted the wooden box labeled “Nilu.” Nestled within its velvet interior was a miniature doll, no more than a few inches in height. This doll, crafted a century earlier, was now an added “crew member” of the Vanished.

The unanswered questions lingered: Was there a genuine link between this doll and Lucretia? And did Lucretia still retain the doll named “Luni” which she had acquired a hundred years prior?

When Duncan had originally acquired Nilu, he hadn’t paid the act much attention or significance. But now, as he held the intricately designed wooden box, a torrent of emotions and questions rushed through his mind. With the box securely in his grasp, he made his way towards the captain’s private chamber on the ship.

As he walked, he observed the peculiar goat head diligently manning the helm as it typically did. However, the instant Duncan made his entrance into the chamber, the creature’s ceaseless prattling began in earnest, “Ah, Captain! How splendid to see you return to the comforts of your own quarters! I noticed you’ve returned with quite a haul from the city-state. We, your ever-devoted crew (and I might say there are quite a lot of us), are genuinely hoping for an upgrade in our onboard meals. In fact, with your blessing, I’d be more than happy to offer some culinary guidance to Miss Alice and ensure…”

Duncan, clearly irritated, shot the creature a firm look and interrupted, “Enough of that. I’ve had my fill of your bizarre doll concoctions. I prefer my meals not to resemble the regurgitated contents of some nightmarish entity. Now, where exactly are we, and how much distance remains until we reach Pland?”

Seemingly unfazed, the goat head chirped, “Captain, our course towards Pland is swift and steady. We’ve utilized multiple spectral boosts, allowing us almost to graze the very fabric of reality itself. By my calculations, the city-state is a mere ten days away. And soon, Captain, you will experience the potent power from the Vanished. We will undoubtedly prove to those in Pland that we are not be trifled with.”

Duncan fixed a piercing gaze upon the creature, which momentarily silenced its incessant chatter. After what felt like an extended pause, Goathead humbly added, “A devoted first mate, such as myself, always strives to be attuned to his captain’s needs and moods.”

Duncan nodded in acknowledgment. “Very well.” Clutching the wooden box, he began to stride towards his sleeping quarters. Yet, midway, he halted, deep in thought. After a moment of contemplation, he posed a carefully crafted question, “How do you believe Tyrian and Lucretia would react upon seeing me once again?”

He had chosen this question with great care, aiming to extract vital information without betraying any potential ignorance. He avoided directly asking the creature for insights into the siblings’ past or the nature of their previous interactions with the Vanished, as these inquiries might hint at his unfamiliarity. His query was astutely framed, considering his assumed identity and his existing rapport with the loquacious creature.

Caught off guard by Duncan’s inquiry, the goat head took a moment to process the question. After a noticeable pause, it replied cautiously, “Are you referring to… your offsprings, Captain? My apologies, but you seldom mention them, leaving me unsure if it’s even my place to opine on such personal matters. However, if you insist…”

The usually verbose creature appeared to wrestle with its thoughts before proceeding, “Well, based on what I know, another face-off with Tyrian seems plausible, reminiscent of the incident at Frost’s domain. He does have a proclivity for aggressive negotiations, often involving artillery. As for Miss Lucretia, I believe she might opt for a more cautious approach, perhaps maintaining her distance from us.”

Duncan managed to keep his composure, but internally, two startling revelations dawned upon him.

First, he remembered a past conversation with the goat head where there was mention of a clash near Frost’s domain. The astounding detail was that this confrontation had involved Tyrian and the Vanished, a fact Duncan had initially overlooked.

Second, the creature’s immediate reaction had been peculiar. He pointedly highlighted that Duncan rarely discussed the siblings, Tyrian and Lucretia, with him. This got Duncan thinking—had this creature never personally interacted with the siblings? Was its knowledge solely based on Duncan’s sporadic references?

Wasn’t this very creature an original member of the Vanished’s crew?

A fleeting but sharp glint passed Duncan’s eyes, yet he maintained a neutral expression. He acknowledged the creature’s words with a nod and continued to his private chamber without further comment.

Once he was safely enclosed within his bedroom walls, the heavy oak door acting as a barrier to the outer world, Duncan’s whirlwind of thoughts began to subside.

He inhaled deeply and carefully removed the doll “Nilu” from its wooden confines, setting her down on his desk. For a long while, he simply observed the tiny figure. Overwhelmed by a sudden urge, he softly said, “Greetings, I’m Duncan.”

As expected, there was no answer.

It was just a doll, devoid of life.

A light chuckle escaped Duncan’s lips, a mix of amusement and slight embarrassment. He was relieved that the walls of his quarters were thick enough to ensure privacy. He reached for a drawer and pulled out an exquisite item.

It was a meticulously crafted hairpin, its design reminiscent of cascading waves and delicate feathers.

Alice had discovered this piece during one of her explorations of the ship. The hairpin evoked an unexpected pang of nostalgia in Duncan, acting as a reminder of the emotions tied to the original owner of his current form.

“There’s a possibility that this belonged to Lucretia,” Duncan whispered. “Could it have been a gift that was never passed on? Or perhaps the lone relic she left aboard the Vanished?”

Duncan delicately held the hairpin, allowing the sunlight that pierced through his window to dance across its gleaming surface.

With a gentle gesture, a verdant flame sprung forth from Duncan’s fingers, swiftly encompassing both the hairpin and the doll “Nilu.”

Focusing intently, Duncan tried to perceive any latent supernatural energy within these items or any subtle connection that might lead him to deeper truths.

But to his dismay, the vibrant flames gradually dimmed, and neither “Nilu” nor the hairpin exhibited any supernatural response.

Could it be that these artifacts were simply mundane and devoid of any magical resonance? Or perhaps the issue lay in Lucretia’s present location, nestled at the very fringes of the known world. Was it possible that her considerable distance had weakened the latent “bond” within these objects to such an extent that even Duncan’s ethereal flame couldn’t perceive it?

A puzzled expression formed on Duncan’s face as he once again summoned the ghostly flame. Driven by a feeling he couldn’t quite put into words, he called out to the void, “Lucretia… Lucy?”

In a bid to forge a deeper connection, Duncan employed Lucretia’s affectionate nickname, hoping that this familiar moniker might elicit a more profound response than her formal name.

Yet, silence reigned.

After what seemed like an eternity of hopeful anticipation, Duncan’s heart sank, and with a hint of sorrow, he doused the ephemeral flame.

Simultaneously, in a faraway land situated on the cusp of the Eternal Curtain, a meticulously crafted clockwork doll named “Luni” froze in the midst of dusting a table.

Luni was no ordinary doll. Over the years, Lucretia’s persistent and innovative modifications had transformed this once simple toy into a sophisticated “alchemical being”, a marvel of “mechanical ingenuity”. Suddenly, an eerie, high-pitched sound of gears grinding against each other resonated from within her, accompanied by a chorus of metallic squeaks and groans.

The ornate winding key that was snugly fit into Luni’s back unexpectedly detached, clattering to the floor. Her arm, reinforced with a unique alloy blend, went slack, and an unsettling wisp of azure smoke began to waft from a fissure in her pristine, maid-like exterior…

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