Part 2: The End She Couldn't See
The young man stared at the sword lying to one side, going over the same question again and again. Should he storm in even if it meant going alone, or wait a little longer? Not even her life or death had been confirmed yet, and the anxiety seemed to swell beyond all reason.
Emyuna...
She had been his closest friend since childhood. Of course, back then he had known nothing of the bloodline she carried — that she was a witch. It had given him pause, briefly, but by now he had made his decision beyond any doubt.
Even if you are a witch, nothing between us changes.
Not that the world looked kindly on witches. Everyone deemed them ill omens and sought to root them out. But he had no intention of letting such prejudice sway him.
If she's been captured...
He could not bring his troubled heart to rest. Most people would never tolerate the existence of a witch. In the worst case, she would be subjected to live experimentation, or some villain would seek to abuse a witch's power for his own ends.
I never should have let her go that day...
"Theon! Emyuna's back!"
"What?"
Theon Bedamut of the Revolutionary Army rushed out without a moment's delay. And the instant he came face to face with the one he had yearned for, so tenderly and for so long, relief swept over him, if only for a breath.
"Emyuna, what took you so long to come back?"
"... I had my reasons."
Emyuna dropped her gaze, looking worn and wretched. A witch could not look directly upon her own future; she had to cast her sight through those around her, or through her surroundings, and reason her way backward from what she saw.
"What happened out there?"
"A bounty hunter caught me and threw me in a cell. I thought that was the end of it... but then that bounty hunter broke me out."
"...?"
Theon furrowed his brow, the words refusing to settle. The man they'd taken for an enemy had granted her a kindness. However many times he turned it over, it would not add up.
"I've seen that man's future twice now. When I was caught, he was fated to die at your hands... but it's different this time. I can't see how it ends."
"You can't see how it ends? If you used your foresight, shouldn't you see something, at least?"
"That's... he's barricaded it ahead of time, so that I can't foresee it. Whatever the reason, it means that part is not to be spoken of."
Emyuna had no choice but to reassess Revnil Lophenheim. A man who had seemed little more than a petty wretch had been swept up in a fate so strange. Perhaps he might even deliver what the Revolutionary Army had hungered for all this time.
"Theon. I'd rather you didn't take your revenge on him. He isn't our enemy anymore."
"Even so, if it weren't for that bastard..."
"That, too, was fate. Fate is given to sudden upheaval by nature. It's why even my foresight never lines up perfectly."
Theon began, little by little, to cool the hostility that had been seething in him. Judged by his deeds alone, the man was outrageous beyond all reason — but he could not treat Emyuna's foresight lightly. If not for her, he would have ended up gravely wounded, or dead.
"... Then what became of him?"
"He got out of the prison and made it as far as the city outskirts. But the pursuit squad caught up, and while he... bought me time, I was able to get away."
"So you don't know whether he's alive or dead?"
"For now, no. But I don't believe he's dead. They weren't wounds that would kill him just yet."
"Don't go wandering off on your own again. You ended up captured exactly the way I feared, didn't you?"
"That's..."
Emyuna could not bring herself to answer. She had believed she would come back without incident — but however many times she cast her foresight, the dangers aimed squarely at her were the one thing it could never detect.
"I won't take my revenge on him, since that's what you want. But I think I ought to meet him at least once."
"Meet him and do what?"
"I need to know what kind of man he is. I want to hear what's going on inside his head."
A strange curiosity had taken root in Theon where that bounty hunter was concerned. It had been an atrocity no one would dare attempt by any ordinary reckoning — and with Emyuna herself insisting the man was far from ordinary, he would have to secure at least a working connection with him.
... Does he know about witches? If not, there would be no pulling off a stunt like that.
Revnil had flung practically his whole body into breaking Emyuna out. Within the prison alone he had felled dozens of soldiers, and somehow, he had shaken the pursuit squad as well. Only at the very end had he been left with no choice but to buy time himself while Emyuna fled.
"... She made it there in one piece, I trust?"
Revnil waited by the window of his hideout, watching for the dusk to fall. After clash upon clash, he had barely scraped his life back — and then he had buried his trail at the cost of coin. That money had been Emyuna's bounty, and now not a single piece of it remained.
"Easy come, easy go, as they say. It wasn't by my own doing, but what choice was there?"
With his safety secured, Revnil had begun operating in the Underworld in earnest. Most of the work was back-room dealing in information, and as results came in, coin slowly pooled around him. As for the information itself, it came close to a condensed distillation of the story and lore he had known long before.
This well won't run forever, though. Someday the limit will come.
Information lost value the moment it was spent once. And once enough people knew it, its unique worth converged to zero. So confidential intelligence had to be sold off as quickly as it could be.
The story has already been overturned on my account, hasn't it? Which means the information can't stay the same either.
As long as the story and its lore held steady, the value of any given piece of information rarely shifted. But by springing Emyuna from her cell, he had warped that story at its very foundation. Because of that, most of what he sold had to be anchored in the lore itself.
For now, I'll hand over as much as this place needs and bank the money.
Those who came looking for high-grade intelligence carried considerable wealth. Provide the right piece, and a proper sum followed. What the situation did not allow was lounging on that money in luxury.
I'm on the wanted list now, too. Which means I can't go showing my face around anymore.
He had already confirmed the notices. Whether the price on his head was small or large made no difference — either way, the odds of an ambush had climbed.
Well, if it's come to this, better to cooperate with my fellow criminals.
He was an information broker whose reach spanned the Underworld. One man might seek him out as a client; another might be hunting wanted fugitives for coin. But once you became a man of the Underworld, there was no stepping back outside danger's reach.
And the people with any real chance of finding me are a fixed few, after all...
"Could you spare me a moment of your time?"
A middle-aged man, respectably dressed, stepped into the hideout. Revnil gave him a sidelong glance, then promptly moved to his desk.
"What brings you all the way here, I wonder? Not sending an underling this time?"
"I wanted to hear it for myself."
The man rummaged in his coin pouch and presently held out five gold coins. Revnil, without so much as a glance at them, spoke evenly.
"Whom would you like to know about?"
"Radlangdal Leckermen. We were set to open trade with him, but something about it smells off."
"Hmm... ah, I remember now. He does sell at a premium — but I hear he sings the moment he's caught."
"Right. Somehow I figured as much. Every man who's ever dealt with him is nowhere to be found, one and all."
The man rose from his seat, apparently satisfied. Only then did Revnil reach out and sweep up the coins.
"... You know this sort of thing remarkably well. I take it you keep an excellent informant somewhere?"
"I am the informant and the broker both. I may look like I do nothing at all, but in truth I'm dreadfully busy."
"I'd expect nothing less. I've never yet met a man who sells information as reliable as yours."
The man had recognized Revnil's worth at a glance and opened dealings on the spot. The price rose and fell with the weight of the information, but the accuracy ran high. If there was even the faintest chance of an error, Revnil warned him without fail, and now and then he threw in a piece of useful counsel besides.
"You're looking to widen your market soon, I take it?"
"Ahh... it's getting hard to operate around here. I have to sell in more places if I want to keep more, no?"
"Then I would recommend the Western Region. The Southern Region has always been thick with the drug trade — there's nothing left to sell there. Which means more cases of detection... and surely the Palace won't sit idle, will it?"
"So the West sits empty, then."
"Empty isn't quite the word... the land there is ringed by rock and mountain ranges, hard to cross in either direction. But that very difficulty makes it easy to disappear, which is a great advantage for producing the product."
"Hauling goods through the West is a chore, though. Not many carts, so they tend to draw the eye... Is that truly the best option?"
"Less the best, sir, than the only one left. As you know, the North and the East are locked down tight by other gangs. Push in without cause and you could come away badly hurt."
"Hm... so that's how it is. I'll engrave it well."
The man set off with the faintest of smiles — then, as if something had just occurred to him, paused halfway around.
"Ah, forgive me — it nearly slipped my mind. There's someone I'd like to introduce you to. Might you make the time later?"
"As long as it isn't me you're selling off, gladly."
"Hahaha! Now that does sound like a laugh... but I've no intention of letting an information broker like you slip away. I mean to bring you more work."
Interest stirred in Revnil at those words, though he refused to let it reach his face. At last, his goal was drawing near. Through this man, he would certainly reach that place.
The Underworld has always had its illegal auction houses, after all. And there is something I can only obtain there...