In three hours, the sun will rise from the distant horizon of the sea, and the relatively safe and stable daylight will replace the disquieting night — if the sun indeed rises as usual.
Duncan glanced at the mechanical clock not far away, its hands moving steadily and unhurriedly.
"Do you plan to wait for the sunrise?" the voice of the goat-headed figure suddenly came, "It's still three hours away."
"…Sitting here waiting for three hours is even less interesting than staring at the essentially pale sea chart," Duncan shook his head, stood up to stretch his shoulders, and slowly headed to the bedroom, "I'll go back to rest for a while. If I'm not out by sunrise, you can call me directly."
"At your service."
Duncan nodded, pushed the door back to his bedroom, casually tossed the paper with the mysterious insignia drawn on it onto the table, and walked towards the bed not far away.
