Inside a classical three-story building on the outskirts of Bamberg Park, where West Borough, Cherwood Borough, and South Bridge District met.
Having officially joined the Divination Enthusiasts Club, Cyril sat alone in a corner on the second floor by the window, quietly gazing at the artificial lake in the park.
Of course, the club's members generally didn't consider themselves mere enthusiasts. They usually called themselves diviners or master diviners, though there were occasionally one or two newly joined diviner apprentices who were still learning.
"Cyril? What are you doing here? I thought I was seeing things just now."
A familiar voice came from behind him. Cyril turned around, somewhat surprised.
He saw Owen approaching with a somewhat disheveled head of hair. Owen wore a crisp formal suit beneath a classical black robe embroidered with intricate symbols and patterns, and he held an armillary sphere in his hand. His face was full of surprise.
Cyril's mouth twitched. He gave Owen several up-and-down looks, suppressing the urge to make a snarky remark before saying:
"What's with the outfit? A classical Warlock trying to fit into modern society, or a modern man with a taste for classical fashion?"
"Uh..." Owen scratched his head awkwardly, then said with a hint of helplessness:
"I can't help it. Only an outfit like this can show my professionalism and get more clients to choose me."
"Even though I'm the real Seer, most people who come here for help only judge by appearances and listen to the so-called advice of laypeople. They go to the more famous master diviners, even though they're just a bunch of ordinary people with no special abilities."
Cyril shook his head slightly.
"You can't say that. Ordinary people with strong intuition and extensive knowledge can make fairly accurate divinations, too."
"Besides, as you