Chapter 109: Methodology
Disappointment settled in for the three of them. They sat there an entire day, coffee cup after coffee cup, as though thoroughly absorbed in the view — enough that even the owner found it strange. But business was business, and as long as paying customers kept ordering, he wasn't inclined to ask questions, especially when the three of them sat quietly, exchanging the occasional word, causing no trouble at all.
Jaymes and Peter found the whole thing odd, though neither pressed the point — as mages, a little boredom was something they could tolerate. So the three of them sat through the day, coffee in hand, while the watchers stationed below suffered through the same stretch of hours, growing more and more certain something was wrong.
The café owner had never seen anything like it — customers lingering from morning to night over coffee alone. He knew something was off, but it wasn't his problem to solve. His business was his business, and that was that.
Word of it reached Rose, priestess of the Order Keepers, and she gave a light, delighted laugh. "How amusing. Do those idiots really not see they're just being used to hold everyone's attention? Where did that mage Evan go today?"
"Nowhere at all. Seems he's been sleeping."
"Sleeping at home, while someone else does the work of drawing every eye in town. Is he really asleep, though?"
The subordinates exchanged uncertain glances. Rose simply studied her own fingers — long, pale, elegant — murmuring half to herself. "Interesting. Just what are you, exactly? Hollingburton pays its respects to the Creationist Church on the surface, but they'll take in anyone underneath it. The Creator's light doesn't quite reach every corner of Norse."
None of her people understood what she meant by that. She sat up slowly. "Keep close watch on his movements tonight. The moment he steps out after dark, I want to know."
"Yes, Priestess," her subordinate answered.
Evan really was resting — though sleep wasn't on his mind at all. He was working through the tangled web of relationships in his head, unable to make sense of it, growing frustrated despite himself. He drew a slow breath and let his mind settle, then smiled to himself. If he was stuck inside the problem, why not step back and look at it from somewhere else entirely?
He tried shifting his angle, considering it from his opponent's point of view — but there wasn't enough information to work with. He didn't even know what other uses the Fallen Angel's Tear might have beyond the two he already knew. Without understanding its full purpose, there was no way to guess at his opponent's true intentions. Simply assuming the stone was important, indispensable, told him nothing about how the other side would actually act.
He shook his head. Neither angle got him anywhere — not his own perspective, not theirs. Could there be a purely objective way in? A spark of insight crossed his mind. What was objectivity, really, if not stripping away the interference of the self and looking at the world as it truly was? Did such a state even exist? It had to — wasn't that exactly the posture magical cultivation demanded? That was it. A state of pure stillness, from which everything could be viewed without bias. Even his nightly reflections had always started from his own perspective, without his realizing it. Now he understood: he could set himself aside entirely and look down on the whole picture from above.
If that was true, couldn't the same method apply to everything, not just this? Setting the self aside — was what he'd called "considering both sides" a moment ago really anything more than simulating everyone else's perspective through his own mind? That still wasn't true objectivity.
This whole affair was a good test case. It looked hopelessly tangled on the surface, but nothing in the world was without a cause, however complex it seemed — and the cause itself might be simple. What was it, then, stripped of his own point of view? As far as he knew so far, this involved Hollingburton, Burk Town in the Gael Mountains region, the Druids, and some thread of devil worship. Since arriving, his attention had been locked entirely on the factions within Burk Town — but those factions, however present they seemed, were ultimately insignificant. The real powers at play were Hollingburton, the Druids, and some third, half-glimpsed force tied to devil worship.
Everything seemed to open up at once. Hollingburton and the Druids were allies. There was friction between them, certainly, but nothing severe enough to turn the Druids against Hollingburton over this — the stakes simply weren't high enough to provoke a break. That left the third party as the real suspect.
There was no hard proof yet, but the greatest benefit from all of this fell squarely on them. However the pieces moved, standing at this remove and setting himself aside seemed to strip away the fog entirely. The truth, once seen this way, was simple — however much confusion surrounded it. Evan felt he'd glimpsed the shape of the real answer.
Of course, this was still only a hypothesis — the most reasonable one available, but a hypothesis needed confirmation against the facts all the same. Thought was not the same thing as fact; thought had to be corrected by fact, and Evan understood that clearly.
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It was an entirely new way of thinking — something close to a new methodology for understanding the world itself. From this moment, Evan felt he'd truly established something foundational in himself. Before now, he'd drawn unconsciously on methods carried over from Earth to guide his actions and refine his cultivation, but none of it had ever come together into a complete system. This was the first time he'd built a framework capable of guiding everything he did. From here on, something distinctly his own would carry him forward, step by step, toward higher understanding.
His mind had already moved past this particular investigation. From here, he expected to step back into a supporting role — Hollingburton would send its own people to take over the case properly, probably by tomorrow, or the day after at the latest.
He turned the whole affair over once more in his mind — from arriving at the scene to investigate, to the encounter with Feimaji, to striking both gang headquarters, and the new pieces he'd since uncovered. Who had turned Feimaji, and why — deliberate choice, or simple opportunity? She was such a minor figure in Burk Town, and as far as he could tell, he was the only one who knew her true nature as a vampire. That alone was worth thinking about. Could there be some unstable element buried in all of it?
He decided to go out again tonight. Feimaji wouldn't even know he'd come — he had no intention of seeking her out directly. If she really was just a piece on someone's board, no one would have paid her much mind before yesterday. But after what had happened, that was bound to change. Worth keeping an eye on, at least in passing. Tonight he'd also check on Lidis and Raight — they should be fine, but he'd bring along a few scrolls and magical items regardless, just to make sure they were properly looked after.
Evan spent the whole day supposedly resting, though in truth he'd used the Wraith Eye to carefully map out the layout of the building. His expression grew steadily more serious as the hours passed. He didn't rise until dinnertime, when he came down to the dining room, exchanged a few pleasantries with everyone, and settled in with a cup of coffee. He breathed in its aroma and turned to Jessica beside him. "Professor Jessica, how did things look out there today?"
"Calm on the surface. Underneath, plenty's stirring. No telling how many factions have started moving," Jessica said, stirring her coffee with a spoon. Jaymes and Peter exchanged a look of open confusion, their blue eyes betraying real bewilderment — they'd spent the whole day with her and hadn't noticed anything of the kind.
"They ought to be moving," Evan said with a smile, showing his teeth — white teeth, oddly enough. When he'd first crossed over, they'd carried a faint yellow tinge, and he'd never given them any particular care since, yet somehow they'd only grown whiter over time. "Though none of them even rise to the level of wolves. Dogs, at best."
"Professor Evan, what's the next step?" James spoke up from where he sat.
"As the Creator says: good fortune favors the prepared," Evan said. "Last night's business already stirred the water. Everyone's moving now. I'll go out again tonight — the real fish should be swimming by now." He drained his coffee, stood, and pulled his overcoat and top hat down from the rack.
"What's your plan?" James asked again.
"Haven't decided yet. I'll see how they move first. The owl always catches its mouse in the dark, in the end," Evan said, drawing on a local saying — meaning he had no fixed course in mind, and would adapt as things unfolded.
Jessica's eyes flickered, and she was about to speak when Evan's voice reached her through the link. Don't say anything. Watch yourself. I'm going to check on Lidis and the others. Hollingburton should send people by tomorrow, the day after at the latest. Fill Jaymes and Peter in on some of this — they're young, still students, and they missed everything today.
Evan hesitated a moment, then sent one more quiet signal. Jessica's expression shifted faintly, and she answered back through the link. Don't worry. Now that you've told me, I'll keep it contained and go over everything again carefully, to be sure. There's no such thing as darkness — only things we haven't seen yet. She ended with a local proverb of her own, steadying herself against the shock of what he'd told her.
Evan walked out into the dark. Lamplight spilled from doorway cracks and windows all down the street, dim and yellow. His pace looked ordinary enough, but he was moving fast. James's brow furrowed as he watched Evan disappear into the night, then turned and gave a look to one of his servants. The man understood at once and slipped out through a side door. Jessica's eyes narrowed slightly, but she gave no sign of having noticed.
Out in the dark, Evan spotted several figures trailing after him quietly, and let his faint sight open to see them clearly, plain as day. A mocking edge crossed his face. His hand moved in a few small gestures — subtle enough to pass unnoticed even in broad daylight — and a few wisps of black smoke flickered and vanished. Since they'd come this far, they might as well stay.
The men froze for a moment, their eyes suddenly flooding red, and they turned on each other with drawn blades. Evan didn't spare them a second thought, his body flickering and vanishing from sight. The instant he left, a black cat appeared atop a nearby wall, watching the slaughter below with an almost human trace of mockery in its eyes, before dropping down and shifting, in the blink of an eye, into a woman — languid, seductive, dripping with charm.
Down below, the men who'd turned on each other had already cut their companions down; only two remained standing. Both turned toward the woman, letting out a low growl that seemed to strain against some buried agony, and rushed her with blades raised. She moved too fast for either of them to track, reappearing behind them in an instant. They stood frozen for a moment before blood burst from several wounds at once, their bodies coming apart in pieces that scattered across the ground.
Her hands, which had flashed like sharpened cat's claws a moment before, shifted swiftly back into slender, delicate fingers — soft and lovely now, with no trace left of the savage edge they'd carried moments earlier. She didn't so much as glance back, moving forward with an easy, graceful stride, her foot brushing carelessly across the throats of two men still lying on the ground, not yet dead, only gravely wounded. Under her heel, something gave way with a soft crack, and their eyes rolled back as the last of them went still.
As she walked on, she shifted once more into the black cat, darting up a wall in a flash and vanishing after Evan into the dark.