Eldritch Guidance-Intermission XXII

If audio player doesn't work, press Reset or reload the page.

Somewhere in the vast expanse of the ocean between the western and eastern continents, a large transport ship sliced through the dark waters. This vessel, a sturdy metal craft, carried one of the many regiments of the Thousand Eye warriors, along with a seer from their order. It was a moonless night, the overcast skies creating an almost oppressive darkness that enveloped the ship. The only source of illumination came from the bright headlights of the vessel, casting beams of light into the inky blackness, ensuring they wouldn't inadvertently crash into any unseen rocks or obstacles lurking just beneath the surface.

The ship creaked and groaned as it gently rocked with the swells of the ocean, a steady rhythm that carried it forward. Below deck, most of the warriors and passengers were resting, their eyes closed in the fleeting moments of sleep before the next shift of vigilance. Half of the Thousand Eye warriors remained alert, eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger, their senses tuned to the ever-present possibility of threats lurking in the shadows of the night.

On the deck, two members of the Thousand Eye warriors had strayed from the main group, standing apart at the ship's edge. They were positioned away from the others.

The two warriors, clad in dark, etched armor that mirrored the Shinobi Shozoku garb of another world, stood on the deck of the ship, blending seamlessly with the shadowy surroundings. Despite their intimidating presence and the gravity of their duties, there was a deeper connection between them that set them apart from the cold professionalism of their peers. Han and Shin, childhood friends, had been raised in the same mountain village high above the world, where the air was thin, the sky was clear, and the mountains seemed to touch the heavens.

Han, the shorter of the two, was struggling. His usual calm demeanor was disrupted by the persistent nausea that churned in his stomach. He had never experienced anything like this before. The rocking of the ship, the constant sway, and the rhythmic hum of the engines were completely foreign to him. He had spent his life training in the serene isolation of their mountain village, where the only movement was the gentle rustle of wind through trees and the occasional rumble of distant storms. The sea, with its unpredictable tides and vast, endless horizon, felt like an enemy to his body—a sensation he could not control.

His once-sturdy frame was hunched slightly, and his face had taken on an unusual pallor, the sea air doing little to help the sick feeling in his gut. His hands, which had once gripped swords and blades with unwavering precision, now gripped the edge of the railing with an almost desperate force.

Shin, on the other hand, was the picture of calm and control. A few years younger than Han, but no less skilled in combat and strategy, he seemed unbothered by the rocking of the ship. He had always been the more adaptable of the two, able to adjust to new environments with a quiet ease that Han had always admired. He stood beside Han doing his best to comfort his friend.

Han: “Blaaaag,” he vomited over the side of the ship.

Shin: "You're not looking too good, my friend," Shin said with a dry chuckle, his tone teasing yet concerned. The sight of his usually unshakable friend doubled over with nausea was enough to make him crack a smile.

Han’s eyes narrowed, but his lips curled into a small, strained grin.

Han: "I didn’t think...the sea would be like this," he muttered, the words thick with discomfort. "It’s...unlike anything I’ve known. The wind, the waves... It’s all so..." His words trailed off as another wave of dizziness hit him, forcing him to steady himself with a hand on the railing.

Shin’s gaze softened, his usual teasing tone replaced with genuine empathy.

Shin: "I know."

Shin’s voice lowered, but there was a subtle warmth in it that contrasted with his usual reserve. He had seen Han through many trials, but this, the great expanse of the ocean, was something neither of them had ever experienced before.

Shin: “I wish I could help you. But, there is not much I can offer. We’re not even halfway to the Dolval Isles yet, and even then from there we still have a ways to go before we reach the western continent.”

Han: “Oh, by the great sage. Please…don’t remind me.”

Shin: “If you want, I know a technique that will knock you out cold. I could use it to allow you to sleep through most of this trip.”

Han: “I…will not forsake my duty to guard the seer. I will—Blaaaag” he ended his sentence puking over the side of the ship.

Shin: “I’m not sure how well you can guard anything in that state,” he mumbled.

Shin leaned against the railing, his arms crossed as he stared out into the vast expanse of the dark ocean. The rhythmic rocking of the ship, the hum of its engines, and the occasional creak of the metal hull were the only sounds breaking the otherwise oppressive silence. His thoughts drifted, the darkness beyond the ship’s lights stretching endlessly into the night. But then something caught his eye—something unusual in the distance.

At first, it was just a faint flicker, a small blue dot of light against the endless blackness. He blinked, unsure if his mind was playing tricks on him in the dim light. But then another blue dot appeared, and then another, all dancing like will-o'-the-wisps, appearing and disappearing in rapid succession. It was a strange, almost ethereal sight, blue lights moving through the dark waters, as if guiding the ship, or perhaps following it.

He straightened, narrowing his eyes, his gaze sharpening with a quiet intensity. The overcast sky, which had seemed to press down heavily on the ship, suddenly began to shift. The thick, gray clouds parted slowly, like curtains drawn back to reveal something hidden. A pale light spilled through the gaps, bathing the sea in a silver glow. The moon, previously obscured, now shone brightly, casting long shadows across the deck and illuminating the dark waters below.

As the darkness retreated before the moon’s light, the full scope of the scene unfolded before Shin’s eyes. A fleet of ships emerged from the shadows, cutting through the water with eerie precision. They appeared almost ghostly in the moonlight, their outlines barely visible against the inky horizon. Surrounding them were the strange blue lights he had seen earlier, now forming a glowing perimeter around the fleet, moving in perfect synchronization with the ships themselves.

The blue lights flickered in the air, their movements almost deliberate, as if guiding the fleet or marking their presence. Shin’s instincts went on high alert. These weren’t normal lights, nor was this a normal fleet. There was something deeply unnatural about it all.

Crew Member: “It’s the Deadman’s Fleet! Everyone on deck! The Rattle Bone cult is upon us!” a random crew member yelled out.

Shin's attention snapped to the commotion further down the deck. A man was shouting orders, his voice hoarse but commanding, cutting through the rising tension. Whoever he was, he seemed to have some idea of what was unfolding, though his frantic tone betrayed a hint of desperation.

Before Shin could make sense of the man’s words, a low, guttural moaning reached his ears, carried on the wind like a distant wail. It was an unnatural sound, the kind that made his stomach churn and his instincts scream to act. The moaning grew louder, and Shin’s gaze shifted sharply to the side of the ship, where the noise seemed to originate.

Peering over the edge, his breath hitched at the sight that greeted him. Emerging from the dark waters below, skeletal figures swam with uncanny speed and coordination, their bony hands clawing through the waves. Their hollow eye sockets glowed with a ghostly, pale blue light, an eerie beacon of malevolence that made it impossible to mistake them for anything but the undead.

The creatures clung to the side of the ship with surprising dexterity, their emaciated forms pulling themselves upward with relentless purpose. Shin felt a chill crawl up his spine as one of the skeletal figures turned its glowing gaze upward, locking onto him as though sensing the life that pulsed within his veins. Its mouth, a skeletal grin of jagged teeth, opened in a soundless hiss that sent a shiver through the air.

Shin instinctively stepped back from the edge, his heart pounding against his ribs. His hand went to the hilt of his blade, the familiar touch grounding him even in the face of this horror. In one fluid motion, he drew his sword, the gleaming weapon slicing through the heavy air. The blade was a family heirloom, the White Lotus, its polished steel etched with intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer faintly in the moonlight.

Shin steadied his breathing, his grip tightening on the hilt as he adopted a defensive stance. The ship rocked gently beneath his feet, the rhythmic sound of waves now joined by the clatter of bone against wood and steel as more of the undead began to scale the vessel's side. Each movement of the skeletal figures was jerky yet disturbingly purposeful, as though some unseen force was guiding them with a singular intent.

Shin’s jaw tightened, his resolve hardening.

As the first of the undead reached the deck, Shin raised the White Lotus, its blade catching the moonlight in a flash of brilliance. The faint hum of energy resonated through the weapon, as if it, too, recognized the gravity of the moment. Shin met the glowing gaze of the skeletal figure with a fierce glare of his own, his stance unwavering.

With a single, fluid slash, Shin brought the White Lotus down in a gleaming arc. The blade cleaved cleanly through the skeletal creature, splitting it in half with a sharp crack that echoed in the night. The two severed halves tumbled backward, splashing into the dark, churning water below.

Shin didn’t allow himself a moment’s pause. His stance shifted immediately, his feet planted firmly on the rocking deck as he prepared for the onslaught to come. The sound of scraping bone and the unholy chorus of moans grew louder, signaling the arrival of more of the undead horrors. The glint of his sword in the moonlight was the only reassurance he had as the nightmare unfolded around him. freewēbnoveℓ.com