Sailor's Farewell?

Mist drifted like gauze between the Lost Islands. Beyond the ship's rail, the sea remained as calm as it had been on their way here, while the Ancient Temple that had stood deep within the mist had completely vanished beyond the horizon. Hidden by the fog, it seemed like a dream that had never existed in the first place.

The sailor sat on a barrel on the stern deck, blankly staring at the floating mist in the distance. He remained motionless in that posture for a long time.

Footsteps approached from nearby, finally rousing the desiccated corpse from his daze. His body swayed slightly as he turned toward the sound, then looked up.

"Good afternoon, Miss Vana," the sailor mumbled, offering a listless greeting before adding with a sigh, "Well, you really are tall."

"People say that often," Vana said mildly. She casually sat down on another barrel beside him and glanced in the direction he had been staring. "Agatha said you've been here all day. What are you thinking about?"

"I don't know," the sailor said after thinking for a moment, shaking his head. "Probably just spacing out. You know, a corpse usually doesn't have much to do. No need to eat, drink, or sleep—and on this ship, people hardly need to work at all. Look, this ship can keep itself in perfect order. The busiest things aboard are the ones putting back everything Miss Alice messes up..."

Vana said nothing, merely listening calmly to the desiccated corpse ramble. Since coming aboard the Lost Homeland, the sailor had rarely spoken, but whenever he did, he would occasionally become this long-winded. It even made one wonder whether he had been this much of a chatterbox when he was still human.

After quite a while, once the sailor finally finished rambling,