The battle was over.
The mist dissipated, and the foaming water cald down. The wraith armada was gone, having vanished like a fleeting apparition. Old Tom had retreated back into the abyssal depths.
The Night Garden had earned several new scars, its living hull slowly repairing itself in the pale starlight. The Awakened soldiers erged from under the deck, and the Ascended officers who had manned the cannons were catching their breath while leaning on the railings, a cold breeze caressing their pale faces.
Soul Reaper Jet had already returned aboard her ship — sowhat battered, but mostly unscathed. Her armor was in need of so nding, so she dismissed it in favor of a set of comfortable mundane clothes.
Not long after, the Saints of Night climbed onto the deck of the Night Garden, as well. They were t with loud cheers — facing Old Tom in the dark depths of the Stormsea was an admirable act, after all, not to ntion the aweso feat of driving the dreadful creature away. On top of that, everyone was under the impression that they had fought the fiend alone.
While Naeve and Bloodwave were being celebrated by the Awakened soldiers, Sunny crawled out of the shadows in the quiet seclusion of Jet's private garden and sprawled on the grass with a groan.
He felt absolutely miserable.
‘All that for nothing...’
In the end, he had let Old Tom go. It was unclear whether he could have defeated it otherwise, out there in the abyssal depths, but Sunny still felt disappointed that he had not even received a chance to try.
He would have probably pursued the eerie horror if he had been alone, but at the mont, he also had to consider the Night Garden and its passengers. So, Sunny had chosen the less unhinged strategy and swallowed his desire to tear Old Tom limb from limb, returning to the surface instead. Now, he was enduring the tornt of his wounds with nothing to show for it. At the end there, he had been forced to face the horror of the depths without the defensive barrier of a Shell, in his true form — that of a vast, formless shadow. That had helped him salvage the battle, but also left him vulnerable to receiving soul damage.
That was fine, though, because Soul Weave was already nding his tattered soul... and sowhere in the depths, Old Tom was suffering, as well, having been poisoned by his Death Will.
Thinking about that last part made Sunny feel much better, filling him with vindictive joy.
Saint stood silently to his left, guarding his sprawled form. Slayer, anwhile, was leaning against a tree so distance away, almost indistinguishable from the deep shadows around her.
Soon enough, Jet joined him in the garden, as well.
Sitting down nearby, she let out a long sigh and said in a wistful tone:
"It's strange, isn't it? We did not lose the battle, and yet, it doesn't feel like we've won it either."
Sunny spared her a brief look and shrugged. “Doesn't seem odd at all.”
He lingered for a few monts, and then asked:
“That creepy feeling I got while fighting Old Tom... the Dutchman made an appearance, didn't it?"
Jet nodded.
“Yes, just as expected. It vanished once the night fell, though.”
Sunny raised an eyebrow.
"Did Aether chase it away?"
Jet remained silent for a while, then sighed again.
"It was not so much that it was scared away by Aether as that it chose to leave once the stars, and the map hidden in them, revealed themselves once again. We, Old Tom, and the Dutchman are not the only candidates left in the race, after all. So, I think it simply decided not to waste ti, especially considering that the Night Garden had already sustained so damage by then." She paused.
“In truth... I managed to vanquish a few ships, but the ones destroyed by Aether and your cannons are not really gone. They were simply dispelled, so they'll return after a while. So, the damage we dealt to the ghost fleet was negligible.”
Jet gave him a dark look.
"If I am correct, then the ghost sailors are rely emanations of the ship — lost souls bound to their sinister vessels and imprisoned by them, forever. Every ti the sailors are destroyed, they return into the holds, and then get summoned to man the ships again later, in a never-ending cycle." She exhaled slowly.
“Well, unless soone like ends it. The ships themselves are rely emanations of the Dutchman, though — when they are destroyed, the wells of souls contained within them are drawn back into its great hold, in turn, so the ghost armada can never really be vanquished unless the Dutchman itself is destroyed. It's like one big cursed nesting doll... that is what I concluded after sinking a few of those creepy ships, at least." Jet sighed and looked at the stars.
"The only thing I am not clear on is the captain of the Dutchman. Is he just another prisoner of that cursed ship, or are the ship and its curse manifestations of his power? I do not know."
Sunny smiled faintly.
"I have no idea, either."
Jet remained silent for a while.
"The Dutchman and its ghost fleet remind of sothing, though. I've t a similar being before, I think." ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NovєlFіre
Sunny chuckled.
"Well, of course you have. I am right here."
Indeed, what Jet described was eerily similar to Sunny's own Shadow Legion. His shadows shared a kind of kinship with wraiths, and they too could never truly be destroyed, only vanquished for a while — banished back to the dark expanse of his soul, where they were nded and repaired by its tenebrous flas.
...Unless soone like Jet got involved, that was.
She shook her head slowly.
"No, I don't an you."
After considering sothing for a second or two, she added:
"A while back, I killed a Great Devil... the Heart of Kanakht. It commanded a swarm of imprisoned souls, as well."
Sunny blinked a few tis, thinking about the implications.
Eventually, he shrugged.
“Well, we will inevitably learn more about the Dutchman soon — whether we want to or not."
The Night Garden was resting now, drifting among the waves, but it would continue the journey to the Eternal City soon. Whatever dangers they had faced along the way would most likely pale in comparison to what was waiting for them there.
He hesitated for a few monts, then asked:
“So, what are we going to do? Chase after Old Tom and the Dutchman in hopes of getting to the Eternal City first?"
Jet shook her head slowly.
“The Night Garden is damaged, and you don't look too good either. It is better to wait a couple of days and arrive at the party in top form. There's no telling what will et us at the end of the road, after all — but there's definitely going to be a slaughterhouse just shy of it. So, we should give the other contenders a chance to properly greet each other before joining the fun."
Sunny smiled lazily.
“Fun, you say? Aren't you afraid that they will get to the prize before us?"
Jet chuckled and shook her head.
"Not at all."
He gave her a surprised look.
“What? Why?"
Standing up, she looked at him with pity and shook her head.
"I an... the road to the Eternal City is already that bad. Whatever is hidden there is bound to be ten tis worse, though. And that's not sothing even the likes of Old Tom or the Dutchman can deal with in a day or two."
Laughing quietly, Jet nodded at Saint and walked away.
Left alone, Sunny turned to the stars and spent so ti enjoying the quiet rustle of the leaves in peace.
After a while, he murmured:
“That makes wonder... hmm, maybe I need to get myself a garden, too..."
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