Chapter 648: Are the Gods Dead?

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The captain’s private quarters were serene, with the soft, rhythmic sound of ocean waves gently caressing the hull. These sounds softly filled the space, adding to its peaceful atmosphere. After a significant pause, the intricately carved goat head in the room let out a contented sigh and said, “Ah, this ambiance is quite soothing.”

Duncan gave Goathead a puzzled look, surprised by the lack of questions from his unusual companion. “I expected you to bombard me with questions,” he said, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Aren’t you curious about where I’ve hidden Atlantis? Or about the many secrets I possess?”

“Curious,” Goathead responded clearly and thoughtfully, “but logic and intuition advise against delving into matters shrouded in secrecy. It’s especially wise not to ask about events that happened after I left this ship. As the captain of the Vanished, simply knowing who you are is enough for me. Gaining more knowledge… it’s better for my peace of mind to remain unaware.”

“Relying on your intuition, then?” Duncan mused, his eyes fixed on the intricate black wood carving. Suddenly, he asked, “Has your instinct suggested what might happen if I were no longer the captain here, or if you knew too much about my ‘secrets’?”

After a lengthy pause, Goathead broke the silence. “My foresight is limited, but I am haunted by visions of an infinite starry void—and in that cosmic dance, the Vanished simply vanishes into oblivion.”

Duncan’s expression showed he was wrestling with his thoughts as his eyebrows slowly drew together. After a moment, he set aside his more complex thoughts for later and reassured Goathead, “You don’t need to worry about Atlantis. It’s securely stored in a particular state of preservation.”

“That is reassuring,” Goathead murmured softly, choosing not to ask further.

Breaking the brief silence again, Duncan asked casually, “By the way—what should I call you? Saslokha? Goathead? Or does ‘First Mate’ suit you better?”

After a reflective pause, Goathead answered, its voice tinged with discomfort, “Let’s stick to what’s familiar. ‘First Mate’ or ‘Goathead’ will do. The name Saslokha now seems quite alien to me. Reflecting on it, it feels like it belongs to a distant version of myself.”

This took Duncan slightly by surprise. “You seemed to accept it without any issues when I first named you that,” he observed.

Goathead’s reply had an unusual tone, “At that time, it seemed inappropriate to object, given the circumstances…”

Duncan gave Goathead a long, puzzled look, his eyes lingering on the carving as if trying to solve a puzzle. Then, driven by a burst of curiosity, he pressed further, “I’m really curious about your current state… or rather, how you perceive your existence? When the worlds first collided, you embraced your ancient title as ‘the King of Dreams,’ but that transformation was brief.”

After deep contemplation, Goathead shared its thoughts, still clearly unsure, “To be honest, clarity still eludes me. The memories of ‘Saslokha’ are beginning to resurface, but there’s a distinct separation—I am not fully ‘him,’ nor is ‘he’ completely me.”

Pausing as if to gather his thoughts, Goathead continued, “You mentioned an incident when I encountered the ‘sapling’… there was a noticeable change within me. It’s possible that this encounter awakened something of my mythic past, or maybe the sapling left a lasting imprint on my psyche. For a brief moment, I relived an episode from my ancient memories, so vividly that it felt as if time had reversed.”

After that, Goathead fell into a meditative silence, pondering that mysterious and otherworldly feeling as if trying to reconcile with the emergence of an alternate ‘persona’ stirring within its psyche. Eventually, Goathead simply shook its head slowly.

“That brief return to my past self was fleeting, ending when the dawn’s light marked the conclusion of the dream, returning me to my current reality. The bond I share with the Vanished has fundamentally changed me, and truthfully, I prefer this altered state of existence.”

“Is that so?” Duncan reflected, absorbing the implications of Goathead’s revelation. “You identify as Saslokha yet not completely, more like a newly forged entity made from the remnants of a primordial deity… If this state brings you contentment, I see no harm in it.”

“There’s no detriment to it,” Goathead stated with unexpected ease. “Some things, once lost, cannot be recovered. We must focus on what lies ahead, regardless of what the Great Annihilation has taken from us. We now live in the eras of the deep sea—let Saslokha’s story be remembered as myth.”

“You’ve undergone a transformation; your former self might have found it difficult to express such clear and determined thoughts,” Duncan noted, his gaze resting on Goathead with a subtle complexity, then he stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Your words remind me; there’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

At the mention of a question, Goathead took on a serious demeanor again, preparing itself. “Go ahead with your question.”

“Saslokha is dead, long dead—do these words resonate with you?”

After a brief pause to collect its thoughts, Goathead responded affirmatively. “I do remember,” it acknowledged. “As pieces of my memory came together, this phrase echoed in my mind persistently. It seems to act as a powerful form of ‘self-awareness’.”

“Yes, Saslokha ‘died’ during the cataclysm known as the Great Annihilation. This isn’t just a profound scar on your memory, but it’s also deeply ingrained in the collective subconscious of the elven race,” Duncan confirmed, his tone becoming more intense. “However, there’s a conflicting account in the ‘Book of Blasphemy.’ It states that during the dark period that followed the Great Annihilation, called the Second Long Night, the ‘King of Dreams’ tried to create a new reality. In the midst of this failed attempt, he shattered—becoming the basis for the Vanished, the ‘Skull of Dreams’ that ended up with the Annihilators, and your current form is a testament to these events.”

“We can assert with some certainty that the ‘King of Dreams’ from the Book of Blasphemy is indeed Saslokha, who met his end during the Great Annihilation.”

“But how could an ancient deity, declared dead at the time of the Great Annihilation, attempt to create a new world during the Second Long Night?”

“And there’s a similar paradox concerning the Flame Bearers’ worship of ‘Ta Ruijin,’ known as the Eternal Flame.”

Duncan paused to take a sip of water from a cup on the table, then resettled in his chair with a serious expression as he continued, “Ta Ruijin is another divine being whose end supposedly came with the Great Annihilation. He was worshipped as the guardian deity of the forest folk. Both Vanna’s reports and the engravings on the ‘Chronicle Pillar’ confirm his ‘demise.’ Yet, how do we reconcile that with the ‘Ta Ruijin’ who is currently being worshipped by the Flame Bearers across the Boundless Seas? Who or what, then, is this ‘Eternal Flame’?”

Goathead, its wooden neck emitting a soft creak, nodded thoughtfully, indicating the time it took to formulate its response, which was infused with a sense of unease. “This is quite unsettling.”

Duncan’s expression remained solemn, his gaze fixed on Goathead. “Don’t shy away from these revelations; after all, you are one of the divine entities in question.”

“I have no memory of that,” Goathead confessed openly. “As I’ve mentioned before, my memories are fragmented at best, mostly surrounding the era before the Great Annihilation. Regarding what happened after… I am completely in the dark.”

Duncan’s frown deepened. “You can’t recall anything at all about the Second Long Night, or the events during that period of attempted creation?”

Goathead concentrated for a moment before shaking its head reluctantly. “If there had been even the slightest memory, I wouldn’t be as utterly clueless as I am now…”

Duncan brushed aside these details, his expression contemplative for a while before he finally offered his thoughts. “In that case, I have some theories to consider.”

“You have a theory?”

“I’m inclined to think that we might be mistakenly applying mortal concepts of life and death to deities,” Duncan proposed thoughtfully, his voice grave. “Take yourself as an example—do you consider yourself ‘alive’ in your current form?”

Goathead paused, its usual movements halting as it pondered the question. After a moment of reflection, it answered with some uncertainty. “I suppose I do feel… sufficiently alive, in a way. I’m managing quite well, aren’t I?”

Duncan raised an eyebrow, his tone becoming slightly sharper. “Would you describe ‘managing quite well’ as having your existence scattered? Part of your essence is trapped in subspace, one of your many heads is in the possession of the Annihilators, and other fragments of your being might be lost in the hidden folds of reality.”

A distinct crack sounded as Goathead’s neck adjusted uncomfortably, its voice now a mix of defensiveness and concern. “Your description sounds rather bleak! It chills me to the bone, such a grim portrayal…”

“Yet, it’s an accurate representation of your reality—you are not merely dead in the conventional sense, but rather… exist in a state of disrupted death,” Duncan stated firmly. Although the topic was grim, he felt compelled to continue, his manner serious and resolute. “And I suspect that the situation of the other ‘gods’ may not be much different from yours.”

Goathead fell silent, clearly daunted by the grim implications.

Duncan collected his thoughts before going on. “Consider the King of Darkness, the Nether Lord, described in the Book of Blasphemy as the architect of the third Long Night. He is depicted as having lost his sanity, trapped in an endless limbo between the deep sea and subspace, doomed to continuously spawn and then devour shadow demons.”

“In the holy texts of the Flame Bearers, Ta Ruijin is depicted as a colossal sentinel watching over the ancient flame, his own body perpetually ablaze, forever doomed to have his flesh consumed by fire.”

“I have come across the Black Sun myself, a being tortured by its own brilliance, its consciousness shattered long ago. Now, it seems to long for nothing more than to end its blinding light…”

“As for the Storm Goddess and the God of Wisdom, I’m not quite sure of their exact conditions, but I suspect they are enduring similarly agonizing states.”

Stripping away the mythological overlay and speaking strictly from a perspective of ‘practical reasoning’ and ‘intuitive judgment,’ none of these situations seem to fall within what we would consider normal.”

With these insights revealed, Duncan opened his hands in a gesture signaling conclusion.

“The gods have met their end—yet, their ‘demise’ is prolonged, perhaps uniquely so; they do not fit neatly into the categories of ‘life and death’ as we humans understand them. Their ‘existence’ after death, or rather their ‘remnants,’ continue to have an impact on the world, or may even… connect with the ‘lingering sparks’ that survived after the Great Annihilation. This could very well be the harsh reality of the Deep Sea Era.”

As Duncan’s statement lingered in the air, a deep silence filled the captain’s quarters.

After a long pause, filled with palpable tension, Goathead broke the silence, its voice carrying a mix of humor and genuine discomfort. “…The way you describe these events… is quite unsettling. I must admit, I’m actually feeling a bit of dread this time around.”

Duncan pondered Goathead’s reaction, his thoughtful look turning introspective before he let out a slight sigh, suggesting resignation. “…Perhaps I chose too stark a way to put it. It would be wise to use a gentler approach in the future. This subject indeed has an eerie aspect to it.”

“It’s not just the discussion,” Goathead added with unusual sincerity. “It’s as if there’s an actual tingle down the back of my neck… Could you perhaps scratch it for me?”

There was a brief pause before Duncan could reply, his face a mix of amusement and disbelief at the peculiar request.

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