Nero Walker, Book 4 Ch.82 (313)

While he could have confronted her, addressing his suspicions logically and maturely, Nero instead opted to sit in silence and enjoy his coffee. Although some might disagree, he preferred to see his choice as evidence of him having learned restraint. Too often, he’d voiced his internal conspiracy theories only to be proven wrong, ending up looking like an idiot.

‘Personal growth for the win,’ he congratulated himself while half-heartedly munching on a finger sandwich.

Next to the table, Ms. Davis continued to stand there, watching him, likely waiting for him to say something. Nero had no idea, but perhaps she was waiting for orders or possibly just enjoying the fact that her presence was making him feel uncomfortable. And while she stared, the two servants she’d brought along were busy picking up his armor from the floor and cleaning up the dirt he’d dragged in.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as they used some simple spells to do their housework, leaving his satchel next to where he was seated while collecting his armor to have it cleaned and mended. For a moment, he wondered why they didn’t just use some spells to clean it now, but again, he decided it was better to keep his mouth shut.

‘It’s always preferable to look like you know what’s going on. Fake it till you make it. Arguably the best and most reasonable plan of action until I have a chance to do some research,’ he reminded himself.

When the two servants were finished collecting everything, Ms. Davis asked, “Is there anything else you require, my lord? Perhaps you’d like something from the library?”

Setting down his cup, he looked up at her from the couch where he was sitting, replying, “No thank you, Ms. Davis. I’ll just be on my link for the remainder of the day. The coffee and… snacks will be more than enough. Your efforts are appreciated and noticed. That will be all.”

With a smile that seemed to be both understanding and yet filled with untold secrets, she replied, “Very well, my lord. However, if you need anything at all, we’ll be sure to have someone right outside.”

In a coordinated line, the three of them bowed slightly in unison before turning on their heels and heading out the door, leaving Nero feeling somewhat uncertain of how alone he might truly be. For all he knew, they had an entire team scrying on him from the moment he’d arrived.

Blinking at the thought he’d just had, Nero suddenly began to chuckle.

Who cared if they were spying on him, or if they were really reading his mind? He already knew a ton of people were watching him. And just because these people here might be more local than the ones in the capital, it didn’t mean that he should feel any more violated. The nobles here in Dorchester were probably doing the same, using their mages to keep tabs on him. After all, even back home, personal space was an illusion. And as long as he could reasonably ignore them, he didn’t have to think about them.

‘Besides, I still don’t know if my fixation on this is a result of my mind being bored. Too many unknowns and not enough information. Best to keep silent. I can’t be so cavalier with my words anymore,’ he reminded himself.

Letting the question of Ms. Davis’ presumed mental invasion go for the moment, Nero turned his attention back to his link. He’d been wondering how his newfound brainpower translated to his proficiency in using the Thought Hub, and now was the perfect time to deal with all the crap he’d been putting off dealing with.

Relaxing into the couch, Nero slipped the link into his pocket before resting his hands on his stomach and throwing his feet up on the coffee table. Allowing his mind to sink into the connection, he let his senses go, slipping into the connection with the entirety of his being.

Interestingly, just like the last time he’d fully committed to its use, the link pulled him in without issue. However, unlike the last time he’d used it, without having part of his mind remaining with his body, his entire consciousness took complete control of the connection. It was a heady feeling that made him feel like he was sinking into a virtual reality or something similar, which did a hell of a job overpowering his senses and immersing him fully into the experience.

Although completely in control, his connection started with the locally saved files, the pings and messages that had been patiently waiting for him to review them. There were multiple updates from Vera concerning subjects both interesting and confusing, various after-action reports from Cathleen and Angelton along with his team leaders, a few pings from some of the people who’s been put in charge of his busines intrestets, a couple from Mrs. Warren on the subject of his estate’s status, and even a few pings from the former evaluators who by this point he’d almost forgotten about. He could practically feel how much there was for him to get through.

And get through it all he did.

With his full attention on what he was doing, his connection to the Thought Hub was just as instinctual as he remembered it being. However, this time he made sure to double-check all the responses he was preparing to send out, ensuring that they were not filled with his personal thoughts and ramblings. And before he knew it, his mind had separated itself into two halves, all on its own. The first was analyzing and incorporating what he was reading into his understanding, while the other was completely focused on interpreting the best way for him to respond to what he was seeing.

He didn’t know how long he was at it, but before he knew it, he was done. It felt like looking up from an intense Sudoku puzzle on the train, realizing that he’d been so distracted that he’d missed his stop.

Nevertheless, he was done.

His personal after-action report was filed, cc’d to everyone who needed to see it before someone would send it on to the army. Answers to questions concerning how he wanted his estate and businesses run were sent out, and recommendations for the future were added as professionally as he was able. Honestly, if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought someone had helped him work through everything while touching up his language and ensuring that he didn’t sound like a dimwitted manager who’d only been hired because of his relation to someone important.

‘Huh, that was much easier than I thought it would be,’ he thought to himself with a smile despite noticing that he’d burned about a third of his center’s reserves.

Unfortunately, his good mood was almost immediately ruined by his brain catching up to everything that he’d just learned. It was an odd feeling, waiting for his consciousness to sync up with everything he’d recently absorbed. In a way, it felt like walking out of a good but complicated movie, needing to take a moment to mentally review everything he’d seen so he could actually understand what he’d just witnessed.

On the whole, the easiest thing for him to accept was how well the trading posts he’d started with Vera were doing. Everything that he’d hoped for had happened, and they were cornering the market on essence crystal trades throughout the city. Even with imitators popping up left and right, everything was still looking good. The increasing number of hunters that were working the density shift were bringing in a fortune, eagerly trading their riches for the gear and support equipment that his trading posts were offering. And while a lot of the nuances of the business were still beyond him, he could tell from the context that Vera was handling everything as well, if not better, than he’d expected her to.

Next, on the subject of House Walker’s development, things were looking better than he could have hoped for. His estate was staffed and filled to the brim with loyal servants and followers. The rolls of House Walker were filling without him even having to accept the oaths in person. And from what he could tell, the majority of his house would be locals in charge of managing his interests, not people who’d he’d be responsible for taking with him when he left. Which was good news all around, and further proof that Vera never had any intention of taking over his house after he was gone. Between her and his staff, they seemed bound and determined to ensure that House Walker was fully self-reliant and would no longer be at the mercy of House Verena, regardless of how loyal Vera actually was. Sure, Vera would still be managing a lot of his interests, but House Walker wouldn’t be beholden to her for its existence.

‘See, this is a perfect example of why it pays to keep my mouth shut. If I had mentioned my crackpot conspiracy concerns, I could have alienated a wonderful woman who’s always been there for me,’ he noted to himself, temporarily basking in his self-congratulations.

Another thing of note was how impressive the recruitment efforts had been. House Verena’s troop count had almost doubled since the last time he’d checked, and House Walker’s were expanding practically exponentially. Everyone in the city seemed to want to sign up to serve the local unique and his designated local affiliates. From what he could surmise by reading between the lines, everything associated with House Walker was on the rise, and the people loved him for it.

Which, of course, led him to recall the disturbing news from the former evaluators… who’d admittedly gone a bit off-script. Not that he’d left them with much of a script to begin with. However, them having basically been responsible for starting a city-wide adventurer movement all by themselves hadn’t been something he’d seen coming. Although he probably should have expected something like this to have happened, what with how well Natalie’s promotional efforts have been received by the masses.

Yet, the last few pings he’d received merited further review, as one of the former evaluators, Kyle Vaxis, had gone out of his way to take responsibility for the recent religious chaos that had infected the city. According to him, if it hadn’t been for the former evaluators spreading the gospel of all things adventure, then none of this would have been all that big of a deal. Whether or not he was some sort of planar lord or a new type of god, the questions and concerns would have been silently handled by the religious district without anyone bothering to notice.

Temporarily retreating from the Thought Hub, Nero returned to his body, picking up another finger sandwich. Idly chewing on the tasty treat, he tapped his fingers across the couch’s delightfully soft armrest, thinking over everything he’d read.

On the one hand, he knew he should be pissed. But on the other, he found the situation too funny to really get too worked up about it. It was arguable, at best, that anyone would have been able to see this coming. And from what he’d read through the links that they’d sent him, whether or not he was a god, a planar lord, or some other type of interdimensional faerie or whatnot, it was all just a matter of opinion. He couldn’t provide blessings, tie his followers to his plane, or develop a spiritual connection with anyone in any real way. So, no matter how closely he fit many of these arbitrary definitions, he was not actually any one of them. And according to Vaxis, that was something which would quickly be proven by the council of faith when they eventually got around to it.

In the meantime, his plans for laying low were perfectly reasonable and even seemed somewhat prescient. After all, people who were interested in him, whether locals or people from the capital, would likely be using this development to mess with him.

‘Good on me, I guess,’ he thought to himself with a smile.

Another matter of interest were the multiple references to personal planes which kept popping up in the reading they’d sent him. While he couldn’t be sure, his inner world did admittedly sound suspiciously planar-like when looked at through a charitable lens… if he tilted his head just right and squinted at it until he was almost blind.

Refilling his coffee from the pitcher, Nero thought to himself, ‘I should touch base with Jennings again. If there is anybody who’d have answers, it would be him.’

Unexpectedly, a flash of golden light filled the room, depositing Jennigs in front of the couch across from. The sudden appearance of the archmage was enough to cause Nero to spill his coffee all over the table while dropping the pitcher in his attempt to save his cup.

“Dammit, old man! What the hell!?! Are you reading my mind too? Boundaries asshole! Boundaries!” Nero shouted while hopping to his feet and shaking his hand free of the dripping coffee which had ruined his sleeve.

Archmage Jennings, looking over at Nero in confusion, replied, “Reading your mind? Why in all the hells below and heavens above would you think I’m capable of reading your mind? Is this still about that ridiculous conspiracy theory you had concerning the Thought Hub? How many times do I have to explain it? Links are entirely incapable of working like that!”

Equally confused by Jennings’ misinterpretation of his accusation, Nero took a moment to collect himself before resuming his rant. Yet, before he could continue, the doors to the hallway flew open, allowing the servants to rush over. Without even asking permission, they began casting spells to clean his sleeve and remove the spilled coffee from the carpet. It all happened so quickly that Nero wondered whether or not the coffee even had time to be absorbed into the fabric.

Somewhat in shock, Nero’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he attempted to come up with an appropriate response to all that was happening. The sudden change from being utterly alone in his room to being surrounded by chaos had him reeling. But before he could say anything, Ms. Davis arrived, ushering in another set of servants who were bearing two fresh trays of snacks and a fresh pot of coffee.

“My lord, apologies for the wait, we’ll have all of this cleaned up as quickly as possible,” she said before offering the archmage a suspiciously deep bow in greeting.

Snapping, Nero yanked his hand away from the servant who was still rapidly firing spells at his sleeve as if he were in combat. “See! How could she already have coffee ready if she weren’t watching me? Not that mind reading would help her predict that I’d need it… Wait, I didn’t… I mean… You know!?!” he finished in a muttered and somewhat incoherent ramble.

The servants all paused, unsure of whether or not they should continue their work, meanwhile, Ms. Davis and the archmage were sharing an inscrutable look with each other.

“My apologies for any offense, my lord. But, you have read my profile, haven’t you?” Ms. Davis asked, somewhat uncomfortably.

Seeing the complete confusion on Nero’s face, Jennings stepped forward, waving his hand grandly in a sweep across the room. All at once, reality reshaped itself. The trays the new servants brought in were instantly replaced by the old ones, leaving them holding the half-finished tray of snacks along with a now-empty coffee pitcher. All evidence of the spill was gone, and even the servants had been teleported around, lining them all up in an aesthetically pleasing formation.

Blinking rapidly to mentally catch up with whatever the hell had just happened, Nero noticed that the damned old man had even gone to the added trouble of replacing and refilling his coffee cup, which was now sitting in front of him on the table, wafting steam into the air like he was watching a Folgers commercial.

“Nero, my boy, I was under the impression that you were perfectly at peace knowing that you were being scried on. But that’s neither here nor there, as no one in the estate would bother scrying on you. And I can further assure you that no one has been reading your mind; the lovely Ms. Davis was obviously just using her pillar. If you would take a moment to calm down before you accuse anyone of anything, I’m sure whatever concerns you have can easily be relieved,” the archmage said calmly while standing tall, projecting authority throughout the room like the big boss he was.

Breathing deeply, Nero took another moment to force his mind back into order. The confusion and stimuli he’d been trying and failing to process had been overwhelming him. Part of his mind had been trying to follow the spell-casting being done by the servants, while another part had been hung up on the implications of Ms. Davis’ and the archmage’s suspicious arrivals. Not to mention the part of his mind that was currently busy wrapping its head around the various magical means Jennings must have used to remove the spill while resetting everyone’s position in the room.

Choosing to focus on a singular topic in order to maintain his sanity, Nero asked, “What pillar?”

Ms. Davis replied somewhat heatedly, “My pillar is ‘service’, my lord. Over the years, I’ve chosen to develop it toward anticipating the needs of my chosen charges. In this case, now that I’m serving as your personal maid, that charge is you. I admit there are elements of fate involved, but I promise you, I haven’t spelled you or invaded your privacy in any way.”

Nero, seeing that she seemed insulted at the accusation that she’d been spying on him, quickly tried to come up with a believable excuse for his suspicions. Not that he wasn’t still suspicious, but without any proof, he felt that he needed to say something to relieve the tension in the room.

Luckily, Archmage Jennings chose that moment to step in. “I don’t believe he was accusing you specifically, Ms. Davis. And please remember, as a newcomer to our plane, he is not all that familiar with the possible abilities that can manifest through the pillars of identity. Despite having been here for long enough to rise to the position he has, he hasn’t been fully adapted into our social structure. There are still many things he does not know.”

Nodding in understanding, she replied quickly, “Of course, Archmage. Please excuse us, and if you or the lord need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” Turning her attention back to Nero, she added a polite but firm, “My lord,” along with a slight bow before turning away and leading the servants out of the room.

Collapsing back into the couch cushions, Nero sighed. “Well, that sucked,” he muttered.

Before Jennings could say anything, Nero pointed accusingly at the man across from him. “And by the way, this is all your fault. I was doing awesome, repressing my instinctual need for answers perfectly fine before you showed up, startling me. You ruined the mature, mellow vibe I’ve been cultivating, causing me to lash out like a douchebag. Whatever you’re doing here better be important, or I’m going to be pissed. That is, if you weren’t really here because you read my mind, knowing that I was thinking about contacting you. Wait! Don’t answer that! First, explain to me what you meant by that pillar stuff. That seems eminently more important at the moment. Whatever you’re here for can wait,” Nero declared in a tone that demanded the old man to start filling in some of the blanks in his local knowledge base.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee from the fresh tray, Jennings to a seat on the couch across from Nero with a sigh. “Very well, let’s set aside my purpose for being here, along with my questions for you, and instead address the obvious shortcomings you have in your chosen management style.”

Offended, Nero snapped back, “Hey! Bite me. If I’m clueless, it’s because you’re a shitty mentor. This is your fault. Well, yours and Nick’s… maybe Vera’s too. It’s certainly not mine. Ignorance is a perfectly valid defense in the court of public opinion.”

*Chapter 313 - The wrong way to broach a topic.

*Spoiler - Misunderstanding can always be solved by talking things out.  That's not up for debate.  What people tend to forget though, is that the process of communication is almost always a pain in the ass.  There is a perfectly understandable reason why most people want to avoid talking things out.  It takes effort, and it's annoying.  Were I more religious, I'd believed that the existence of alcohol was God's way of treating this particular fact of life.  Much like the real reason weed exists is for people who are naturally too high strung.