Deep Sea Embers

With a slightly puzzled expression, Annie cast her gaze onto the two unexpected visitors that were inside the cabin. Her wide-eyed, inquisitive stare bounced between the faces of Agatha and Duncan like a silent ping-pong match. After what felt like an eternity, the young girl finally managed to regain a sliver of her composure and cautiously voiced out, “Uncle Duncan, are you saying you wish to become the caretaker of this cemetery?”

“Maybe.” Duncan retorted nonchalantly, throwing a glance towards Agatha, who still wore a look of utter astonishment, “Is it not possible? Is it a prerequisite for a cemetery caretaker to be a retired guardian?”

Finally regaining her footing, Agatha quickly countered, “No… It is true that cemetery caretakers typically tend to be retired guardians. However, I am confident that I can secure such a position for you if I advocate for it. The main issue isn’t about finding you the job, it’s… Are you sure you want to remain here, in this cemetery, to take on the role of a caretaker?”

“In Pland, I am still recognized as an antique dealer.” Duncan replied, a teasing glint flickering in his eyes, “The ghost ship will never settle at a single location, but my avatar will remain in the city-state. I have to keep myself busy. I cannot simply laze around all day, sipping tea and flipping through newspapers in that grand house situated on Oak Street, can I?”

Caught off guard, Agatha stumbled over her words, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink, “I… I never really gave much thought to what your avatar would have to do daily.”

“That’s quite typical. Most s and movies don’t bother addressing what the main characters do for a living after the main story ends. In reality, you’re stuck handling the responsibilities of two individuals while Tyrian is swamped with paperwork for the entire month.” A hearty laugh escaped Duncan’s lips, “As for me, I find it monotonous to pilot a ghost ship that never docks and aimlessly drifting on the Boundless Sea for the whole day. Living a mundane life in the city-state helps me retain some semblance of ‘human’ behavior. It’s my way of…”

Agatha cut him off instantly, “I’ll sort it out for you immediately. You can begin your work at the cemetery as early as tomorrow.”

Duncan: “…I hadn’t finished yet.”

“I’ve already heard everything that matters,” Agatha retorted, her face taut with seriousness, “Rest easy. Even if the highest cathedral interferes, I will make sure you can peacefully perform your duties as a caretaker in this cemetery.”

“Although I think you might have read a little too much into my words, it’s not a significant issue,” Duncan responded, slightly taken aback. He then steered the conversation towards the actual “job”.

“So, what are the typical responsibilities of a cemetery caretaker?”

“In truth, the job is not that demanding. The primary role of the caretaker is to maintain the peace within the cemetery, to ensure the supernatural forces remain undisturbed. In addition, you will be required to log the entries and exits of both the living and the dead at the cemetery. The maintenance of the cemetery facilities is the responsibility of the nearby church…” Agatha clarified, “Given the fact that even the nights in Frost have transformed into being exceptionally secure. I suppose it’s not just you, all cemetery caretakers probably have less work on their hands.”

As Agatha uttered these words, there was an unusual inflection in her voice while her eyes intermittently darted towards Duncan. It was evident that she had pieced together the correlation between the recent tranquil nights in Frost and the entity before her, and she had more to say. Even if the city’s nights were as perilous as before, would it matter? With such a ‘caretaker’ presiding over the cemetery, would there ever be incidents of supernatural disturbances again? She surmised that even if some entity from subspace were to emerge from a coffin, it would likely be promptly thwarted by the new caretaker. Nevertheless, this was a positive development.

Duncan was oblivious to the thoughts swirling in Agatha’s mind. He had not anticipated anything too complex. He simply wished to find something to occupy this physical form of his. Taking into account the last lingering will within this body and his “connection” with this cemetery, he eventually decided to stay and assume the role of the new cemetery caretaker. He would continue to stand guard over Frost from this vantage point, nurturing and protecting this city-state, much like his life in Pland. The cup of hot tea in his hand had gradually lost its warmth, and Duncan set the cup down on a low table beside him.

Rising to his feet, he silently scanned the humble room. The modest, austere decor bore the imprints of the previous inhabitant. Adjacent to the door, an old hunting rifle, quite the relic, was securely mounted on an iron hook. The bolt gleamed, reflecting the firelight from the side. Duncan observed the aged hunting rifle for a moment, offered a slight nod of approval, and exited the small cabin. The lively tunes from a street bordering the cemetery drifted over…

Interspersed within the music were the echoing pops of fireworks. Annie scampered out of the cabin door behind him, tuned into the distant noise, and joyously tugged at the corner of Duncan’s attire, “The new governor’s convoy is about to traverse the cemetery area.”

“Many people are still apprehensive of the new governor.”

Lowering his gaze, Duncan’s eyes twinkled with amusement, “You don’t appear to be scared in the slightest.”

“I’m not afraid. Mom said the new governor is a city-state protector, a hero.” Annie tilted her face upward, her eyes squinting in the sunlight. Like her father, he’s a formidable man.

Duncan mulled over her words for a moment and gently patted the fluffy hat perched atop the young girl’s head. Indeed, he would make an exceptional governor.

Back over on the Boundless Sea, Duncan strolled across the stern deck, returning to the navigation room where the goat head was attentively steering the ship. On the navigation table, the mist cloaking the surface of the sea map was slowly dissipating. Duncan stationed himself in front of the sea map for a while, his eyes sweeping over the routes close to Frost that were gradually coming into focus. Subsequently, he ambled to a corner of the room, where the antique, elegantly shaped oval mirror of the captain’s room hung in silence on the wall.

The mirror echoed back the scene inside the room, and under the intricate dance of sunlight and shadows, the scene appeared somewhat blurry. Duncan advanced, curled his finger, and lightly tapped the surface of the mirror. In an instant, the otherwise ordinary mirror surface began to undulate with waves of fuzzy light and shadow.

It was as though a myriad of mist and dust were rising and diffusing from the world ensnared within the mirror. Then, a figure materialized from the obscure light and shadows… Agatha – the sentry within the mirror, emerged before Duncan. Her slightly husky voice emanated from the item.

“I’m glad to see you.” Duncan responded with a nod and nonchalantly inquired, “How are you finding it, have you adjusted?”

“It’s quite comfortable,” Agatha slowly admitted. “When I initially moved onto the ship, the immense, desolate world within the mirror instilled a sense of unease in me. But perhaps as I began to acclimate to this place, the encompassing darkness has progressively receded… I also attempted to interact with the woman named ‘Martha’. She imparted a wealth of useful skills and knowledge about life as a mirror image.”

Upon hearing this, Duncan’s eyebrows lifted in surprise; “Oh? You can directly communicate with Martha from here?”

“The Black Oak ship is adrift in the reflective waters nearby. In the world of mirror images, Martha and I are neighbors.” A laugh bubbled up from Agatha, “It’s a remarkable experience. The world in the mirror is disconnected yet interlinked everywhere. I can leap from one mirror to another, materialize in multiple mirrors simultaneously, or retreat into the vast abyss behind the mirror… It might take many, many years for me to fully comprehend all of this.”

Duncan listened with fascination as this “mirror image” elucidated the “laws of the mirror world” that are beyond the grasp of common folk and hard to visualize.

When she concluded her narration, he nodded subtly, “It sounds like you’re relishing this journey, that’s good.”

Agatha paused, her voice a soft whisper as she shared her feelings, “Yeah, it’s better than I had anticipated.”

The room then succumbed to silence for a spell. After an indeterminable length of time, Duncan unexpectedly shattered the quietude, “I’m curious, what prompted you to abandon Frost to undertake this journey? This will likely be your most unhurried journey in this lifetime. This ship might navigate to countless places, to far-flung city-states, concealed secrets, spiritual realms, and even subspace…”

Agatha plunged into deep thought within the mirror, taking this query to heart. After several moments, she began to speak slowly, “I believe it was when ‘we’ dove collectively into that dark, unfathomable sea..”

Duncan remained silent, merely observing the figure in the mirror, awaiting her continuation. The voice from the mirror resumed, “I carry Agatha’s memories and emotions. Within those recollections, I was born in Frost, surrounded by family and friends. I studied and underwent training, endured the church’s trials, as well as the familiarity of those streets, those old bell towers, those long-forgotten objects… everything feels so intimate. All these elements reside in my mind, lucid and profound, akin to experiences I’ve personally lived through.”

“But what we all comprehend is, until the day of the mirror invasion, the life truly pertinent to ‘me’, in reality, spanned merely three days. Thus, when my consciousness was revived, and when I returned to this world in the guise of a mirror image, I’ve found myself constantly pondering over this question – am I Gatekeeper Agatha or a ‘person’ who merely inherited someone else’s memories and was reborn into this world?”

She paused then, letting herself brew over those words. As a ‘mirror image’, her eyes were luminous, and at that moment, they were fixed intensely on the captain outside the mirror.”

“You’re correct, one cannot perpetually exist as the shadow of another. Almost all of my life memories are derived from a different individual, but even so, there are three days within that memory that are distinctly mine.”

“Yet, if I were to remain in Frost, that fleeting three-day ‘life’ would inevitably be engulfed by more substantial and profound memories. I can’t sever my ties with that city. I can’t evade my human frailties as a mortal. I’m fated to be a shadow, a regret-filled shadow ensnared within memories. And as time passes, this regret will invariably morph into resentment and bitterness…”

“I can’t accept this potential outcome. However, during that ‘deep dive’ journey with you, your words… They allowed me to glimpse new possibilities!”