Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 813: The Pivotal Divergence

ding... ding ding...

the sound echoes of a god meticulously etching into the sand with a chisel amidst the scorched remains of bygone eras.

to vanna, the giant appears just as she remembered: aged, towering, with the wear and tear of countless eras etched into his visage like deep cuts from an axe. his hair and beard are unkempt, and his eyes appear deeply recessed.

yet, in comparison to her memories, he looks even more withered and stooped over. his frayed robe seems to pulsate with a subtle, red glow as if the embers of a long-fading fire still cling to him. tiny sparks occasionally escape from the edges of his garment as he moves, the flickering light casting short, ephemeral shadows onto the desert sands.

the giant raises his arm once more, the hammer meeting the chisel, and the chisel striking the loose sand, creating a crisp sound akin to metal striking stone. despite the effort, sand proves to be a stubborn medium, leaving no mark, only the clear, echoing sound of the chisel across the vast desert.

standing by a sand dune, vanna observes this familiar scene from a distance. after a moment of hesitation, she takes a tentative step forward, following her captain’s lead.

then, breaking the silence, the giant’s deep, raspy voice reaches her: “time... is an illusion, a construct placed by observers upon the changing world. history, then, is but a shadow cast by sentient beings within this illusory time. to these observers, meaning is founded on the existence of ‘people’... without them, meaning fades away.”

vanna halts a few meters from the giant.

“there were once stones here, upon which history could be etched. but now, only sand remains, and even the flames have dwindled to but a faint glimmer,” the giant muses to himself, glancing at a small bonfire struggling against the chill wind, “it’s nearing its end.”

“civilization was birthed from flame and stone, and it shall conclude with them...” vanna finds herself speaking out, echoing the words ta ruijin once shared with her in a profound dream at wind harbor.

at this, the giant lifts his head, his gaze meeting vanna’s.

“not long ago, i had a fleeting dream, a memory from a distant, almost forgotten past, leaving behind only vague impressions... but within those shadows, i saw you,” he says, looking into vanna’s eyes, a smile creasing the deep lines of his face, “thank you for being there with me on that journey. though the details escape me now... i still remember, it was a journey marked by solitude.”

vanna’s eyes widen slightly in surprise: “you’re referring to the dreamscape of atlantis, how... how could you know about that?”

“in the moment when time is poised to complete its cycle, every event that has unfolded within the continuum of time is interlinked,” ta ruijin acknowledges with a subtle nod, his voice resonating with a deep understanding. “in the early days of this sanctuary’s inception, i was intricately tied to its temporal currents... now, my knowledge spans broadly.”

he then shifts his gaze towards duncan, who stands close to vanna.

“with patience, i’ve awaited your arrival, flame usurper,” the giant says, his smile tinged with melancholy, “yet, your presence here is a rare beacon of significance in this void of emptiness.”

duncan’s realization is palpable as he stares down at his hands, coming to terms with the root of his underlying disquiet, comprehending the source of his instinctual apprehensions...

it’s the “self” confined within this form, sensing the avatar’s limitations and issuing a subconscious caution.

he is not merely duncan; he is zhou ming.

duncan represents merely one of his incarnations, akin to the antique shopkeeper in pland or the graveyard caretaker in frost—the captain of the vanished, merely one among three facades.

duncan’s initial spiritual odyssey commenced with the activation of that brass compass—whereas zhou ming’s inaugural spiritual venture began the moment he stepped through the fog from his bachelor apartment.

with a deep breath, he allows this newfound understanding to anchor within him.

in reality, zhou ming had already begun to intuit certain truths about his identity, recognizing that his so-called “true self” aboard the vanished was fundamentally no different from the “corpse avatars” he utilized in pland and frost. he understood that “duncan” was his inaugural persona in this world, yet he hadn’t fully explored the deeper implications of this realization—

the question of whether he was fundamentally duncan or zhou ming had been crucial from the very beginning.

reflecting on this... zhou ming’s brow furrows as he remembers the initial encounter with goathead upon his arrival on the vanished. he recalls the entity’s acute awareness of his presence and its persistent inquiry – “name?”

“just as you’re starting to grasp the significance of this question,” ta ruijin’s voice unexpectedly interrupts duncan’s reverie, bringing a sharp focus back to the present, “might i suggest you temper your thoughts somewhat? the brilliance of your starlight is nearly blinding.”

duncan comes to a sudden realization, noticing for the first time the subtle starlight radiating from him. this soft luminescence has begun to envelop the surrounding yellow sands, as if dipping the desert itself into a vast, star-filled night sky.

ta ruijin, meanwhile, gathers his worn robe around him as if to shield himself from the starlight’s glow, his voice carrying a note of resignation.

standing close by, vanna seems unaffected, yet there’s a puzzled look on her face.

she appears much like a student who, while standing next to her mentor, finds herself lost in the complexity of the conversation.

in response, duncan offers an awkward cough: “uh... my apologies.”

following his words, the starlight that had subtly illuminated the surroundings begins to withdraw.