I had thought before that I might encounter a fierce battle, something that would tear apart my cognition, but there was nothing here, it was really just an empty shell.
The abandoned egg shell, what fell was its embryo, soaked in the tribe that once lived here. In the end, the contents did come together into one, and that thing was hatched, but no matter what the existence that broke out of the shell was,
It has nothing to do with egg yolk and egg white.
Before leaving, Kraft knocked out a few samples from the stone pillars made of special material and kept them. To be honest, he was curious about how these "died".
They returned to the ship unscathed, and the missing things turned into a substantial weight, pressing on the fragile nerves.
The formation of the embryo requires nutritional support, but now it seems that the formation is far from over. It still needs to grow. The group that is gradually shrinking underground has obviously not been able to meet the needs, and if there is a place where the needs can be met...
Everyone suddenly thought that just above, the whole city was shaking and trembling.
The ship is offshore and the fuel consumption rate is higher than expected. It can explore further and consume more than one-third of the total amount before returning.
The remaining two-thirds include detours, lost situations, and possible rescue situations such as being in place.
After getting rid of the shoals and reefs, the torches were extinguished and the flame of the oil lamp became the only illumination again.
Adjust the course, aiming at the foot of another giant pillar in the lake that is larger and deeper.
The light of the lighthouse basically disappeared behind me, shrinking into a faint needlepoint. It struggled to penetrate the thick fog like gray cloth, and it was at the end of its efforts. Fortunately, the huge pillar with visible outline became another kind of navigation mark here, which can be used as a direction reference.
The mist became thicker, and the mist that obscured the vision did not dissipate over time. Instead, the density gradually increased, turning into lead water that enveloped the senses, making the perception of the surroundings more and more dull.
There is a slight delay when talking to each other. Watching each other's lips open and close, it takes a while to understand the meaning.
A cool feeling fell on the back of his hand. Kraft wiped it and the feeling turned into a small patch. The team members made a soft sound one after another and brought their unprotected skin to the light to check.
Ordinary water droplets. The water vapor here has become so thick that it condenses and falls on the dome, forming a strange phenomenon similar to rain.
For a moment, they really felt like they were back on the surface of the earth, rafting on the Teme River or some other body of water on a rainy day, and that they could just turn the boat slightly and return to the shore.
But the fact is that the waters in the dense fog never end, and the "rain" is getting heavier and heavier.
The cold water droplets penetrated the burqa, passed through the chainmail, soaked the lining, and drew the warmth out of the body.
They had not taken any measures to prevent rain, and no one expected that it would actually start raining despite being separated by dozens or hundreds of meters of rock formations.
The Dunling people who have lived in a mild climate for a long time are still patient, and the only northerners who know the troubles of freezing rain have begun to look for cover.
Kraft took off the outer water-proof wrapping of some spare items and unfolded them so that everyone could get closer and take shelter. The waxed cloth or paper was of decent quality. It could at least be used as a poncho to withstand most of the raindrops and would not make the place half wet.
An extra batch of hypothermia cases occurred within an hour.
This situation is not sensational. For outdoor activities, sometimes rain can be more troublesome than simple snow.
"I don't quite understand how those people survived." The temperature in the lake was so low that it made people's hair stand on end in a literal sense, and it was the most uncomfortable kind of clammy coldness. The hands holding the poncho could feel their bone marrow cooling down.
Kraft, who had a good tolerance for cold, was in good condition. Several monks who had not thought about protecting themselves from the cold were already shivering a little from the cold. They snorted and squeezed out suppressed breaths from their mouths and noses to prevent themselves from making any noise.
The low humming sound moved along with the ship, and even formed a sense of rhythm after grasping the new breathing frequency.
High and low, rhythmic humming, an ensemble of allergic rhinitis and abortion sneezing.
I don't know who found his own melody in the extremely dull air. From a moment without noticing, the sound really became musical, repeating in a certain cycle, as if humming some melody.
Sometimes I can hear a small piece of memorable tune, which overlaps with the mouth of a poet in a tavern begging for coins deep in my memory, the chapped mouth of an old man in the countryside, or the performance of a church choir, and the next second it changes.
In a direction that has never been heard before.
The melody is a bit clumsy, but it can evoke resonance, like a broken lullaby that has been widely circulated, with a familiarity that seems to come from swaddling clothes, and the urge to hum along with the familiar fragments.
However, when I broke away from my intuition and tried to find a specific tune, I couldn't sort it out from various sounds. It was just a simple humming sound, flowing out through the cold mucous membrane of the nasal cavity. It was just a coincidence.
This feeling is quite uncomfortable, as if there is a flying insect surrounding my ears, but I can only hear the buzzing sound when I am half asleep and half awake.
Finally someone had had enough, and he detected a subtle impatience on his own and the others' faces.
"Stop, don't hum." The monk's eyes stayed on every face for a moment, including the two oarsmen who looked over, without finding out who they were.
Everyone looked innocent and confused, shook their heads, then continued to lower their heads and retracted into their ponchos.
After a while, they realized that the humming tune did not listen to the advice and was still playing lowly and continuously.
Green frowned. He was already irritable when he was wet, cold and uncomfortable, and this behavior made it even more annoying.
"Stop humming!"
He warned, making sure that everyone on the ship could hear it. Everyone held their breath temporarily, fearing that his voice would be misunderstood and regarded as the guy who had committed public outrage.
Even the rowers stopped temporarily.
"..." The rough tone crept across the ear in a low and heavy tone. It didn't stop yet.
Maybe it's a psychological effect, the air is getting colder, and it's so cold that I can't feel the warmth of the clothes on my body. The water mist moistens the clothes unconsciously, and the cold droplets condense on the surface of the skin, sliding down the neck and into the collar.
Kraft got out of his poncho, pushed the rower who was still hesitant to continue rowing back into the boat, lowered his body and looked around the water around him.
At the same time, on the other side, the priest made a gesture to the monks, grabbed a waterproof package that had never been touched, took out the contents, stepped on the pedal to pull apart the string made of flax and metal wire, set the arrow, and completed it with the shoulder.
Prepare and wait for the signal.
The humming sound was almost drowned out by the sounds of hasty preparations in the belly of the ship, but its position was originally erratic.
Like aerogel dissolved in fog, it can be in your ears or anywhere.
where?
Kraft saw Green mouthing exaggerated gestures, but his eyes could not catch anything over the side of the boat.
The water in the air and the water under the boat merged into one, making it difficult to see anything. Only the faint light from the same unknown source outlined the distant scenery, but it was completely indistinguishable from near.
Cold sweat flowed down from the forehead, past the eyelashes and into the eye sockets, stinging the corneas. Something was near them for a while.
【when?】
Was it just entering the freezing rain, or was it after they huddled under their ponchos?
The mist squirmed like a living thing, slowly and silently, weaving into a layered curtain, pretending to be suspicious appearances of ripples on the water surface, raindrops, and bubbles, covering up the real changes.
He turned his back to everyone and closed his eyes.