(63) Nigh

Nephthys exited the gate, side by side with Bernard, her more mundane disguise donned. She was pleased to see Bernard’s people walking informally toward his manor, chatting merrily among each other. It was a far cry from the rigid, formal formation that they entered Nemesis with.

“I could always just take them now, you know. I understand your trepidation, but surely—” Bernard started, but Nephthys cut him off.

“I appreciate the offer, Bernard, but I am not quite ready to send them away. There are many clans and tribes surrounding the Crater. Should another situation like this arise, I would have to teleport them across the continent myself once again. That is not sustainable.

“It is no trouble for me, but I cannot always be around and available, particularly as Nemesis’ renown grows. I am not a ferryman, and nobles seeking to chain or destroy us will not wait patiently for me to take care of such activities. They will seek to undermine us while I am occupied and away.

“No, what I want is to set systems in place that operate independently, without or with only minimal oversight from me. Additionally, these people spent years as malnourished, mistreated slaves. We are still monitoring their conditions as they improve, providing medical care as needed,” she finished.

“I see. Well, I can find good homes for them when the time comes. I will consider…the rest of what you have told me, though it will take days to process everything. It is…much to think about,” Bernard said, staring off into the distance.

“I understand. I have not shared more because much of it is my own speculation. If I learn more, I will inform you,” Nephthys replied.

She looked up at the sky, admiring the clear blue, a sharp contrast from the sulfuric Crater sky, which oscillated between pale yellows and fiery reds.

“I do not know how much I want to become involved in Radaar’s affairs, to tell you the truth,” she said.

Bernard continued to watch his people as they split apart, some filing into the manor, others striding across the yard to return to their duties. Nephthys noticed he was observing her from the corner of his eyes, however.

“Interventionism, imperialism, colonialism. These are…they are not viewed fondly, where I come from, no matter the intentions behind them,” Nephthys mused.

“Oh? Where do you come from, Nephthys? I assume you do not mean the Crater,” Bernard asked, waving away a guard who was approaching before crossing his arms.

“Far away. It is a place that is far more advanced than here in many ways, and yet, similar in many others,” she said, wearing a small smile. “What I mean to say is, while establishing a supply line requires stability from the regions it passes through, I do not know whether that need justifies Nemesis intervening in Radaar’s internal affairs.”

The two stood in companionable silence for several long moments, the wind blowing pleasantly through Nephthys’ hair. The evening smelled of summer, and the scent struck her with unexpected nostalgia. There were no seasons other than a steady ‘volcanic’ in the Crater, despite its northern latitude. She was surprised to find it was early summer everywhere else.

“That is…a tough issue, Nephthys. As you said, though, this ‘imminent collapse’ is currently speculation. Perhaps, should you learn more, we can ponder the issue further together,” Bernard said.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Nephthys said sincerely.

She was unsure why talking with Bernard was different from talking with anyone in Nemesis. Perhaps it was because he was, in many ways, a normal person who lived in this world.

Ramose’s perspective, or Hannibal’s, was of a summon brought to this world specifically to serve Nemesis, so they were Nemesis-forward in all their thoughts and opinions.

That thinking had its place, certainly, and Nephthys did consider it her prime responsibility to ensure her guild members led fulfilling lives, but dwelling in that echo chamber would not be good, she knew.

Diversity of thought was crucial to making sound decisions. Several times in her life, she had spent long hours bashing her head against a problem, her coworkers unable to offer any helpful insight, only for an easy solution to come to her outside of work, while doing something mundane like buying an energy drink.

Total immersion in a problem was often counterproductive to solving it.

“Well, I will bid you good evening. I will stay in touch and update you as I learn more. If you will do me one final favor, I would prefer that the details of Nemesis’ emergence remain obscure for the moment.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“I do not much care if word gets out—it will eventually—but I would like to control the ‘how’ as long as possible,” she said, turning toward the southeast.

“Certainly. I will be discussing the previous day’s events and topics with my people, but I will instruct them to keep the conversations confidential,” Bernard assured with a nod. “Good evening, Nephthys.”

Nephthys nodded and vanished, reappearing outside the inn where she and Tara were staying. The alley was dark, the last rays of twilight failing to reach over the buildings on either side, and she heard muted merrymaking through the walls.

Circling around to the front, she found the tavern area filled to bursting, people eating and drinking, and even a circle in the back where chairs and tables had been pushed aside. A small crowd was dancing, while a man with a fiddle and a big smile played from the side.

“Got some live music today,” Halla said as Nephthys passed the counter, an equally large smile on her face.

“I see that. Do you smile for the music or the crowd it draws?” she asked cheekily.