Myriads of eerie sounds echoed in Vern's ears as he sat across Cedric, who was entirely focused on the book in his hand. The man was unbothered by the weeping of a child that started and stopped exactly twenty-three seconds apart.

Light from gas lamps illuminated the room full of antique furniture with a large circular table at its heart and a stone door at the far end. Heavy chains shackled its metallic protrusions as faint patterns emerged and dispersed on the links every second.

They were both sitting inside the Whispering Repository, a place where even the slightest misstep could lead to dire consequences.

A small part of him wanted to extend his perception and observe what lay beyond the shackles, but the other, not-so-stupid part of him ruthlessly suppressed such a dangerous impulse.

It was an intrusive thought, yes, but there was a reason for it. He had to observe the door actively to prevent the artifacts inside from finding a grip on reality. Apparently, the expensive-looking black crystals studded in the chandeliers overhead amplified their thoughts. Which, in turn, overpowered the subjectivity pollution emanating from the items inside.

However, every time he let his mind slip a little, he felt the distortion by the door growing by leaps and bounds.

When he'd asked for tips from the grumpy number cruncher in front of him, the man excused him with, "The hero is about to end the villain for good, can't speak right now," and buried himself back into the text.

Over the past few hours, Vern had slowly improved at passively observing the door, but he still wasn't confident enough to let his thoughts wander too much and multitask. After all, he didn't know the repercussions of losing focus.

He squinted at the bookworm. If only he would tell me something. He would have asked De Flanc beforehand if he knew Cedric was going to be such a busybody.

So, he silently stared daggers at the sealed door while using multiple mental techniques to better multitask—like counting the seconds it took for the weeping sound to start and stop.

After who knew how long, Cedric suddenly snapped his book shut and slammed it down on the table with a thump. Fixing the thin and long hat on his head, he shouted, "Unbelievable!" He looked up at Vern with wronged eyes, "After all that, the hero just lets the villain go?"

Cedric shook his head vehemently. "And the romance subplot!?" He slammed his hand on the table, making the furniture groan in protest. "Where was the tension? The intrigue? It's like the author was afraid to delve into anything truly... captivating. No daring escapades, no risky encounters—just bland, uninspired fluff. If I wanted to read something so tame, I'd pick up a manual on etiquette!"

Vern fought to keep a straight face as Cedric's voice grew more animated. "Honestly, it's like the author has never experienced the thrill of forbidden romance. There’s more excitement in a grocery list! If I wanted to witness a lifeless love story, I’d revisit my own lackluster adventures in romance."

Ouch, a self-burn, too? Nevertheless, Vern's facade remained impeccable as he just nodded along as if to agree with Cedric.

The grumpy scholar slid the book to the side of the table, and in a calculated arc, it perfectly landed on top of the tall stack of books by the corner as he declared, "This is why I stick to numbers and visions. At least they never let you down."

They do, though. Like back in Ironhart district during our mission, Vern rebuked internally.

As Cedric continued to complain, Vern's eyes fell on the faded titles of the books in that stack. They were crossed out and covered, but his eyes were too sharp to miss the lettering. They went like: 'The Mathematician's Courtship Ritual,' 'Love's Algorithm: A Guide to Her Heart,' 'Steam and Symmetry: A Romantic Proof,' 'The Scion's Love Theorem,' 'Numerical Nuptials.'

Vern's smile stiffened, and he coughed, feeling violated for having read those strings of words together. Who even wrote such horrors?

Cedric didn't notice the change in his expression and rambled on as Vern looked at him in a new light. Don't judge a book by its cover, he thought. He had always believed Cedric was a serious man with a great work ethic, someone always in pursuit of knowledge, given he was reading something every time they met.

But he was reading this…?

It's knowledge, alright.

"Hahh, authors have no skill nowadays, I tell you, kid. Back in my days, observers of the Storyteller and Wordsmith pathway were revered for their skill. Now? Hmph. Everyone wants to shade their perception with something that can make them punch harder. Tis really the end of the days."

Vern listened quietly.

When the man calmed down, Vern finally opened his mouth, trying his best not to let the crystals overhead dim from his lack of focus, "Old man, tell me something."

Cedric smoothed the feathers on his hat and mumbled, "What is it, kid?"

"Can you tell me a bit about how divination works?"

Cedric narrowed his eyes and stared back with a serious expression.

Vern clarified, "No, no. I am not asking you to explain your personal viewpoint. I just want to understand the general ideology and limitations of divination as a field of study."

It had been on his mind for quite a while.

Cedric sat straighter and puffed his chest before nodding sagely, "Good, good. At least you know to bark up the right tree for the job." He harrumphed, "Unlike some kids who think they can figure out everything by themselves."

Vern held back his smile. It looked like Cedric had a terrible impression of other new members of the Vigil for some reason. Regardless, it was a topic of deep interest for Vern. The idea of getting information where there was none was tempting, to say the least.

On top of that, he felt that his senses had grown since the realignment of his Thought space, but he had no clue how to harness them properly. That vague notion of stability and instability in structures he'd begun to notice was also something he wished to control, and he felt like this was one avenue to pursue that.

Cedric pulled an empty chair with his leg, propped one foot on top of the other, and spoke calmly, "Well, if you insist. But let me tell you, kid. It’s a very deep topic. One could spend years studying it without ever learning anything worthwhile. I had to learn from many masters of the art to get where I am today."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He paused, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, a skeptical look on his face. "And I don't hand out that knowledge lightly. You won't even find it in Vena's archive."

Vern narrowed his eyes, This old man. He wants something. Given this wasn't a very serious affair, he didn't want to bring up their last mission, where he'd done most of the work. That would make Cedric look bad—not a good idea when he wants to ask something of him. So, he looked around the room before his eyes landed on that…unique stash once again.

Soon, a plan formed in his mind, and he played his card. "So, before the Duskfall, I knew a literary agent who's now a big shot in the journalism industry. He owes me a few favors. I'm confident that if I gave him a list of books, he could track them down, no matter what. And maybe...get you some exclusive, unpublished manuscripts as well." Vern let his words hang in the air, watching Cedric's reaction.

This was true. He'd noticed the name of his old colleague on some of the editorial pieces in the newspaper this morning.

Cedric's eyes widened slightly, his previously calm demeanor giving way to a spark of interest. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as something of a sly grin spread across his face. "Exclusive, unpublished manuscripts, you say?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the hint of a chuckle in his voice. "You know, there are certain... rare texts I've been trying to get my hands on. Not the kind you'd find in any reputable library."

Vern raised an eyebrow, pretending to be puzzled. "Oh? What sort of texts are we talking about?"

Cedric glanced around conspiratorially before lowering his voice. "Let's just say they're a bit... risqué. Written by certain scholars who had a taste for the more, ah, sensual aspect of humanity. Hard to find, and even harder to procure without the right connections."

Vern fought to keep a straight face, nodding sagely. "I see. Well, my friend in the journalism industry is known for his discretion. I'm sure he can find what you're looking for."

Cedric's grin widened. "In that case, consider me very interested. You've got yourself a deal, kid. I'll tell you what you want to know. But remember, this stays between us."

Vern nodded, the thrill of success coursing through him. "Agreed. Now, where do we start?"

"Alright. Let me give you the most concentrated crash course on divination." He then raised three fingers and said, "There are three parts to divination."

Unable to split his attention enough to take notes while keeping the repository in check, Vern simply listened.

"First is information. As the saying goes—we observers are born of the flux, made men by the flux, undone by the flux. So, the more information you have, the closer you're to your target in the Everflux."

Hohh? Vern didn't expect such a deep but logical theory behind why information mattered and how it affected revelations. Ignoring his own assertion of not writing things from a second ago, he jotted down the saying word by word.

Cedric suddenly stopped and asked, "You look like you have a question."

He did. However, he was hesitant to interrupt the man so soon.

"Sorry, but what exactly is Everflux? I don't fully understand its nature."

He'd heard that word so many times but still didn't know exactly what it was. His best guess came from the fifth Axiom that King Keras's partner talked about in the confluence. It defined Everflux as the state of infinite change.

Also, the whispers that were like a reaper over every observer's head were said to come from the Everflux as well. He didn't know how or why.

"Good question. Let me give you the version that I understand," Cedric interjected. Then, he spoke with a measure of reverence in his tone, "Everflux is everything and nothing."

"It's the primordial soup of existence, a boundless sea of potential waiting to be shaped. A realm where the laws of reality are the most fluid and malleable. It's the state of reality before it has been observed by anyone."

Ohh… Vern gasped, a look of realization dawning over him.

Pieces fell together in his mind, and he finally understood many concepts that had been somewhat hazy until now. He felt like facepalming. It was that simple.

He subconsciously knew it had to be something like this, but putting it into words helped a lot. The fifth Axiom, which asserted the impossibility of predicting Everflux—or true future also began to make more sense. How could one predict something that couldn't even be observed?

The very act of observation turned chaos into order—removing it from a state of flux and aligning it with the observer's viewpoint. In simpler terms, anyone trying to predict the true future nudged it into a new direction just by attempting to predict it, leading to inaccurate divination.

That makes so much sense!

Cedric chuckled, "Gods, you kids have it rough. Back in my days, we used to have a primer for new observers."

"Why is it not available anymore?"

"Heh, it's locked behind the fourth clearance level. For good reasons, too."

Vern felt like grumbling, but Cedric interrupted, "Ahh, don't distract me, kid. I was talking about the most important factors of divination."

"So, it is generally believed that the more information you have about your target, the closer your singularity gets to the truth you seek within the Everflux. Not closer in terms of distance, since that's not a concept in the Everflux, but more in terms of similarity."

Vern nodded diligently. He understood that Cedric's mention of ‘closeness’ was more metaphorical than literal. In the chaotic and unpredictable Everflux, where distance and measurement didn't exist, ‘closeness’ could imply a greater alignment or resonance with the true nature of the target. Vern suspected that the more precise and relevant the information, the better the chances of the divination reflecting reality.

"Now, good information will bring you closer to the truth, whereas lies, falsehoods, and subjectivity will muddy the path."

Vern's face turned puzzled again, but as if knowing what he wanted to ask, Cedric continued, "Before you ask. No. I don't really know what 'good information' is. It's different for every scenario, and if I knew the golden answer, I wouldn't be sitting here in this old dusty room listening to this terrible theater."

Fair enough.

Satisfied by Vern's response, Cedric's smile became even more smug, and he resumed, "Then there's the second aspect of divination—Viewpoint."

Vern had been waiting for this. Obviously, one's viewpoint matters in terms of what they can and can’t figure out.

"Most shade sequences have their own specific visions to visualize the dominant aspect of their viewpoints. Take Flame Heralds, for example. They generally visualize the heat of the world around them as a spectrum of reds, allowing them to see better at night than most."

Vern nodded. He had his own methods of visualization, too. He could observe the stability and instability of structures alongside their fulcrums, their stress lines, and sometimes symmetry as different shades and types of grays.

However, he had no idea how to perceive these properties for non-physical structures. The way things were, the visualizations were helpful during a fight or a mission but not for abstract structures like hierarchies and society. Like the one in the Confluence.

There, he intuitively felt that the hierarchy there was a structure and sometimes even got wind of its stability and instability. But it was all…intuition and quite random. He was hoping to wield it more…proactively.

"However, that is NOT divination. That's just an extension of one's perception. One can't even see through other Observers or the area under their subjective ownership because of the second axiom, which requires one to understand their foe's viewpoint before they can even perceive them."

Which even Vern knew was a pipe dream in most realistic situations. After all, no one shared their viewpoint's intricacies with others.

Luckily, Cedric wasn't in the habit of dangling the bait in front of the fish for too long. He nonchalantly kept answering all these enigmatic puzzles for Vern, "Rather, divination is when we use information and knowledge gained through means other than our eyes and use the insights stored in our thought space to come to a conclusion for us."

Vern's eyes widened with sudden understanding as the fog of confusion slowly lifted.

I…see.

"Wait a second, old man," he interjected.

"Hmm?" Cedric asked, a little displeased.

"Can you hold the fort for a moment? I really, really need to write all this down. This is too…insightful."

Cedric's sour face turned all smiles, and he waved his hand, "Sure, sure, take your time."

Vern completely ignored the crystals on chandeliers above him and jotted down everything the scholar said verbatim.

Hmm, so divination is basically taking information from my senses or beyond and running it through my thought space to create a visualization based on my perspective and insights?

That was…fascinating.

After a while, he looked up and asked the most crucial question, "How exactly can I do this?"