The Economics of Prophecy

The day after I returned from Leiria. Against the backdrop of the students' curiosity and ridiculous gaze, I finished my job in the courtyard. With that leg I headed to the room next to the curator's office. The space that was originally the curator's office was divided into two parts, one of which became a personal laboratory.

Once inside, the windows are covered with thick curtains and the walls are painted black. It seems to be a material that prevents the effects of magic. Thick experimental desk of the same color as the wall. A lined shelf of bottles stuck there with no specialty. The walls are fitted with the same stone slabs as the curator's office.

It's a lot more money than the curator's office, which was somewhat simpler. Plus, obviously, this one's huge. It is a specification that shows that the centre of gravity of the Lord's heart is biased towards either hobby or work. I've never seen a librarian ranked Best Five.

Wasn't the Devil and its energy source, the Demon Crystal, almost State-controlled? Are you a former court magician even if you rot?

Across the street from the experimental desk is an old man with black aprons and black gloves. He's changed from librarian to scholar. I stood across the street from Fulsey. Meer to the right, Alfina to the left.

"Okay, let's start the experiment"

Fulsey declared her hands up like a preoperative surgeon. The experimental desk had an elongated object wrapped in black cloth and a tree in the courtyard I had taken. And there's black paper.

A sight like a student experiment under the guidance of an old professor. But we can't get involved. My qualities are almost zero. Meer won't change much either.

Magic can be exercised for the first time by qualitative objects who are familiar with the handling of certain artifacts. Alfina specializes in the crystal of prophecy. The Knights are like the weapons and protective equipment they use.

"First of all, not this tree."

Fulsey pinched up a stick of wood. so-called negative control. To make sure the tree itself has no element to react to magic. I would prefer the same type of tree that isn't magical, but I can't do that.

Fulsey pushes a stick against the black paper on his desk. I removed the gloves on my right hand and extended my middle and index fingers. A dead tree-like finger that trembles unreliably for a small moment. The middle finger is fitted with a ring with a small gem resembling an amethyst. The metal part of the ring appears to be carved with a maze pattern.

When Fulsey moves her moggo and mouth, the white light floods from the ring. The pattern of the ring glows as it does, and several patterns appear on the gem. At the end, the light covered my hands. The tremor had stopped perfectly.

When the magician presses the sample against the black paper, he slowly moves from right to left with two fingers and from the center of the trunk in the direction of the bark.

When the stick was removed, the black paper was white and sensitive. Totally uniform. Looks like he painted white ink with brushed hair. I relieved myself. If the plant itself reacts strangely, the difficulty of measuring increases.

"Let's be honest. The next step is to create a standard."

Fulsey puts ten small square tile-like objects on paper. The ring glowed and a square appeared from bright white to almost black.

I'm ready. Positive control is next.

"This is the sample I was sent to carry from the East on purpose."

When the black cloth is unraveled, the trunk of the creased red leaf tree is removed. They were collected near the Oriental measuring station in Fulsey's passage.

Fingers moved from the right end and fell out to the left. Fulsey looked at me. I accidentally swallowed my spit. If nothing is shown, the very idea of observing magic fluctuations in the annual wheel will mean no.

The sample is slowly lifted. Fulsey's eyes lit up.

"I see, this is what happens... That's hilarious."

A wave-like pattern appeared on the paper. I exhaled heavily. The part where the loophole is thin, or black part, has a lot of chi, which is messy magic. The brightness and air volume are inversely proportional. The principle is the same as Lentgen. I don't know the mechanism by which the Demon Tree keeps a record of its magic, but it is clear that there is a thick light depending on the year.

However, the black and white pattern is obscured from the center of the trunk to the middle part, that is, in the old age.

"You don't seem to be able to do it in very old times. About ten years..."

"Wait, wait, let's try to adjust the sensitivity a little bit more"

Fully motivated, Fulsey messes with the ring. A slightly more contrasting pattern appeared next to the earlier picture.

"Look, it is. Still, it would be easier to throw away data older than thirty years."

I see. It's a big deal. Indeed, was it single-digit more accurate than the observatory? It's a direct measurement, so I guess that's enough, but a red-leaf tree opponent was out.

"Okay, now I'm going to quantify it. Meer, you need to keep a record."

When Meer takes it out with the ruler and the pen, he marks it to match the stripes of the trunk shifted to the side. Fulsey holds a magnifying glass and quantifies the year-to-year intensity from the annual wheel. The breath is perfect.... you're my secretary.

Alfina watches it with a nervous look next to me.

In the end, data for twenty-eight years line up on paper. Fulsey rolled out of her nostalgia. It compares to the figures obtained so that we don't see them. And I let the scroll go on my desk.

"That teacher, this is marked with confidential documents..."

Alfina said modestly. Well, that would be military secrecy.

"There's no sense in confidentiality. The same thing is right in front of you."

Fulsey said. I compared the left and right numbers. Twenty-eight years ago, the observations were 30 and the measurements for the annual wheel were 14. Measurements 15 27 years ago at observation 33 and 18 26 years ago at observation 40. Of course, the numbers don't match, so they each relate to the average number. If we're twice as strong, we're going to handle it.

No, three years ago, it was 12 against 24. So it's just double, there's still attenuation due to time. But that's acceptable.

You don't have to say anything. Meer goes with a positive or negative relativization to the average. Standard deviations and tests should also be done by nature, but the quantity of samples is insignificant.

"I had no idea there was such a way. Who the hell is your Lord?"

"I was lucky. I didn't think I'd be able to get beautiful data so far."

He seemed to enjoy his new toy until just now. Fulsey, but my eyes are sharper looking at me. I answered with my cheeks pulled. I can't believe it's cross-world knowledge. More frigid than prophecy, isn't it?

"... In the last twenty-eight years, the warcraft flood in the East has been one on a medium scale and four on a small scale. As you can see from this, the demonic vein has been activated since five years before the Warcraft flood. At its peak three years ago, a Warcraft flood occurs after two years of decline. The corresponding pattern of the annual wheel is not here."

On the black paper, I saw a strip that gradually turned black for the third scale.

"Amazing. Ricardo, you're doing exactly what you said."

Alfina held my hand. My beautiful eyes are a little moist. This princess is a little innocent of reactions when her emotions come to light.

"Uh-huh."

Meer coughing up. Alfina hurriedly let go of her hand.

"… is the director's achievement in finding a clear and predictable pattern."

I guess it feels like the number of Warcraft individuals increases as the magic from the Vessel increases, and the peak of the number of Demons comes a little behind the peak of Magic, the increased Demons storm the decrease of Magic Power to the trigger.

"Hmm.... Well, here's the number I got from the annual wheel, up to four years ago. There are no major fluctuations. Today's experiment alone means we can predict that there will be no warcraft flooding this year. Of course, in the case of the East, it's just an endorsement of the observatory's data. Bye..."

Fulsey's eyes pierce the purse I hold in my hand. Yes, there is unknown information here. And that means more than just the academic record of Western patterns of magic fluctuations.

I saw Alfina. She nodded. I gave Fulsey the sample we cut out.

Finally, it's the real deal. Tense air covers the room. Fulsey lifts the stick from an old age, opposite the bark. A white drain appears on the paper. Measurements grow slowly in our eyes. However, the paper remains white even if the pattern begins to appear in the earlier samples.

Finally, the bark leaves the paper. I stared at the paper. But I don't see anything there but white.

Hasn't there been any demonic pulse fluctuations... Isn't the calamity that the prophecy tells us is a flood of warcraft? Will the following hypotheses have to be considered? No, the prophecy in the first place... My head swirls with glue.

"It's crazy. It is also unnatural that there is no fluctuation at all. That's right................... Shit! I wasn't restoring sensitivity."

"Hey, dude... please, curator"

Fulsey twisted the ring when she put her head on. My fingers move again over the annual wheel. The sample leaves the paper. Again, white......................... No, it's faintly shady.

There appears to be only one thin spot near the end of the white line.

"I'm gonna make some more adjustments."

Third time honesty. "Ugh," Fulsey exhaled, putting the stick down. What showed up was the undesirable result we wanted.

The center of the trunk, which is completely white out, and if you look closely, the middle part, which is slightly rippled.

And there's only one black belt right on the bark.

I can clearly tell when I line up with the East. Magic is certainly stable in the West. But that was five years ago. A slight shade appears now four years ago, three, two years ago and it thickens. And a year ago, I went back to white. This year's data is incomplete, but at least I can't see the shadows.

"I'll rebuild the standard with this sensitivity, though. We don't even have to quantify it. The omen is appearing. Probably this year..."

"There will be a great disaster in the West, a flood of warcraft."

Even though there was no wind, the light of the lamp shook.

To our conclusion, the two girls were silent. One is a disaster that strikes his birthplace. The other was shown proof that the terrible sight he saw would come true.

From mysterious and vague images to predictions by numbers.

That was the moment the prophecy turned into information.