Chương 217: Chapter 238: Not a Mind Reader

Of my various 'love interests', I think Rabert might be the blandest. He's deeply involved in the unscrupulous side of city politics, but everyone who stays near me for any length of time winds up being involved in those events as well.

He's taught me a good bit about how to talk around those people, but now he's not much more than an important link that brings me the attention of the kingmakers and thread-pullers, all the ambitious types that sit deep in the shadows and measure success by how many high-placed figures owe them favors but don't even know them. Frankly, at this point I've got an abundance of those types attaching themselves to my reputation.

I am the cause celébrè of the kingdom right now, and it seems like everything I do is generating more and more controversy. Honestly one of my most major concerns right now is sustainability. My current trajectory right now looks like "dramatic celebrity who burns out early and crashes hard".

Do I really think I'm smarter and more capable than every pop singer or starlet that was burning up every headline like a golden goddess right until they Icarus straight into an early grave, or if they're lucky just a rehab program? Most people who are on my current path wind up wearing very large sunglasses to try to keep the paparazzi from recognizing them. I've been on a meteoric rise, and that has been difficult enough. But I also need to continue that meteoric rise, without a dramatic flameout.

And I can't just assume that I'm smarter, stronger and better than everyone who's been on this road before me- I'm arrogant but not foolhardy. God I hope I'm not foolhardy. You never really know for sure until it's too late though, do you? Anyway, some of my love interests almost feel like timespenders and spacekeepers, just moving me from early stages to middle stages. Each of them seems to serve a different purpose. Ryichsur appears to only be in this story to help keep me from burning out hard.

Trazom appears to be here to elevate my profile to the point that nobody can ignore me. Thumper gives me a slew of opportunities that nobody expected me to have. Yheta is about to hand over control of a whole criminal network he thought he had full control over. And Belisa... well, she has me confused. I sit at my desk, right next to her. My hand is on her desk, palm-up, and her hand rests on top of mine. Neither of us could possibly care any less about what is happening in this geography class.

In my case, because it's just a waste of my time and I can just take the tests and get the top scores in the class. Unless there's a quest associated with it, each of my classes is basically just a waiting room. In Belisa's case, she doesn't care because she's lost the ability to care about things when she lost her soul. And that soul is what I'm investigating. I let my own essence seep past the barrier of skin and into her own. Her shell is adapting to mine, and I'm not even sure if this is a good thing or not.

I've been so careful with my reading, making sure that I don't get pulled into any exciting temptations, tempering my experience so that I won't fall victim to the usual pitfalls of necromancy. The upshot is that I am not turning into a typical crazed necromancer who can't stop experimenting with things best not examined. The downshot is that I'm learning only very very slowly. The problem with that is that there's so much I don't fully understand.

But if I start reading ahead, like everyone else does, I'm pretty sure that I'll definitely fall victim to the same pitfalls as everyone else. I can't assume I'm too special to make those mistakes. Everyone else who made those mistakes also assumed they were too smart and disciplined and special to get caught. I let my essence settle into Belisa's shell, and I move her fingers for her. While my soul is saturating them, those are my fingers. Whatever body my soul is inside of is my body.

But more than that, a mind that my soul inhabits is my mind, as well. A mind is more nebulous, and most of it is confined to the brain. But the nervous system is not so very simple, there's not just one lump of neural tissue that sits inside its bone cage and handles all the higher functions while all the peripheral nervous system just sits around like a mute telegraph transmitting signals from skin to brain and back again. So as I'm allowing more of my essence to mingle with Belisa, I'm starting to pick up...

not memories. Not personality. Something. Maybe just reflexes. Mental habits that operate so low on awareness that they don't even feel like thoughts. Defense mechanisms, maybe. But unlike Kurumi, the traces and vestiges I'm getting from Belisa Roadaway feel familiar, like this is the same girl that I first met as a love interest for Nathan in the game. Belisa does not have as many hidden dimensions to her. With Kurumi, he gets her respect for academics and loyalty to school institutions like the Student Council.

I on the other hand get to appeal to her raw greed by giving her opportunities to make a lot of money. Thumper was originally just an antagonist whose job was to be better at fencing than Clash Atland. Yheta's story was originally all about him forbidding Nathan from dating his sister Filly. But because I'm here they're so much more. Well, somewhat more. In some cases. Belisa is pretty much what she had been. Still the damsel, still the victim, still the focus of a tragedy.

Before I got involved her tragedy was about her family being blackmailed by Kudder and Kralcit's criminal organization. Investigating them for her plotlines was supposed to put Nathan on the trail of the people who arranged the destruction of his home and almost killed his family. I get into her nervous system, her reflexes, and I feel her whole way of thinking. The damsel, the girl in need of rescue. I expected to find helplessness and hesitation.

But as I let my essence absorb more of her, to learn and log the nature of Belisa, the property I picked up most was not diffidence but trust. She was not a damsel because she did not know how to take care of herself but because she just had so much faith that other people would take care of her. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. It was the most alien sensation I have ever encountered.

I have happily joined my emotional reactions to reptiles and minerals, I have fused my mental well-being to black holes and steel and light displays and predator birds. But a teenage girl who assumes that everything is going to be okay because other people are going to take care of it? That didn't just feel wrong that felt offensive.

And, well, she's missing her soul and I've got enough to share, so obviously my method, never trusting anyone to fix anything for me, is superior to her method, trusting anyone else to fix everything else for her. Brushing her mind felt like a perversion. Like finding out that all the rules are wrong and that up really was down all along. I feel what it's like to believe something different, from the inside. My first time letting my soul start interacting with another mind, and I'm already not a fan.

Is this what liches put up with? It's gross. Speaking of things that are gross? Her recent memories. There's not much, I'm not a mind reader. It's just the vaguest physical perceptions, the muscle memory trapped in a few bundles of nerves from her wrist down. If you were going to give it too much credit you might call it an activity log. It's sparse. I show up in it a lot. Nothing else does.

And on top of all of my other concerns, as I slowly dip my toes deeper into necromancy: I'm still looking for the portion of the book, Souls and Soullessness, that tells me whether what I'm doing with Belisa is supposed to prepare her shell to recover its own soul, or to become a host for mine. I'm not sure if I'm trying to spark a fire from cold ash here, or if I'm readying a patient for transplant.

This process is just referred to as 'preparations for ensoulment', and the language it uses is flowery and evocative but not very analytical. Am I supposed to be, like, growing her a new soul from a cutting like we're just rose bushes? Or just reminding her shell what a soul feels like so it can muster a new one on its own? I'm getting more and more certain that all I'm doing here is adjusting the seats and mirrors for when I'm ready to take my new ride out for a drive. I want better for her.

I'm not ready to accept that this is her best outcome.

"You look glum," Vancy said sympathetically.

"Yeah, I think the broken girl in my geography class is living in a prison cell whenever she's not attending classes with me," I said, setting down my tray.

"Not you," Vancy said.

"Sorry, Nat, we'll do your thing in a minute because that sounds bad." She turned back towards Elica. Elica sighed heavily.

"Yeah. Glum. Sorry, it's hitting me that Yheta has graduated. I won't be seeing him every day for lunch or dinner." She started to perk up.

"But, I can see him all I want on the weekends!" She perked back down.

"At least, until Natalie screws that up for us." She perked up again.

"But, there's people already talking about a student-body pact to keep from tattling!" She glummed again.

"But the fucking freshmen."

"What are the first-years doing?" I asked, cautiously. Her tone made it clear that this was a problem. I took a sip of milk and started cutting my spiced sausage into medallions, and then quarters, before mixing them into my pasta.

"Most of them? Nothing," Elica said, with that rolling wave of her hand for anyone whose existence did not really matter.

"But then there's Isther Hsia. And that's enough to screw everything up." I huffed a half-laugh.

"Impressive. I don't know the names of any of the first-years yet." She gave me a flat and unimpressed glared.

"Am I the queen of the Hearstcliff Academy rumor mill or aren't I, Natalie?"

"You are," I conceded. The pasta was pretty good with sausage.

"Damn right. And so anyone who is making an impact is going to come to my attention," she said.

"And this particular first-year student is making a lot of vibrations on my personal spider-web. She'll be doing the same for you soon, Lady Harigold," and she pronounced my name with just a little disdain. Whatever this Isther girl is up to seems to have splashed me with Elica's annoyance too.

"Explaining?" I prompted her.

"Oh, you know. Tale as old as time. New student shows up at prestigious academy and decides they're going to take the whole place over and rule it as their personal fiefdom. Sound familiar?" she shot me a sidelong glare.

"Oh, come on, that's not what I did," I protested, scoffing.

"No, it's pretty much exactly what you did," Vancy asserted. Traitor.

"Full stop," Larianne agreed. Turncoat. But Elica was not done.

"Anyway, dear young Isther has decided that all she need to do to become the new monarch of Hearstcliff Academy is to depose you," Elica said, sighting down her fork at me.

"And the easiest way for her to do that is to make sure everyone loses their weekend liberties and make it your fault. She walked in with the motivation right when then administration created the opportunity. And now because the deans are petty, she is ambitious, and you just can't help yourself, I'm not going to see Yheta until next year." I added a dash more pesto, trying to get proportions correct.

"I need to reiterate that the current school session has only been on for a day and a half, including move-in. Uncanny she would have this plan and that you'd hear about it."

"You're the biggest target for anyone looking to prove themselves," Larianne said, glancing up through her bangs at me. She was definitely less creepy this time last year.

"Yes, but that was true last year too, and that was why everyone was after me then," I reminded them all.

"Don't worry. I'll deal with this. I'm not going to let you lose your weekends over something like this." I avoided telling her that I would not take Yheta away from her. We're getting close to his expiration date.

"So, you're going to refrain from using magic?" Vancy said brightly. Elica rolled her eyes.

"Of course not. She's going to get rid of Isther Hsia. What kind of world would we live in if Natalie Harigold started letting people push her around?" That felt unfair. I feel like I let a lot of people push me around quite a lot actually. But that did not change the fact that she was right.

"She's a first-year, so she's on the floor right below us, right? I'll straighten this out after classes today."

"I'm sure we will all appreciate it," Elica said, sounding much more pleased now.

"Anyway, what was it you were saying about geography or whatever?" I pushed my tray back, and held my chin in my palm, elbow on the tabletop.

"Oh yeah. There's a girl with no soul and she's living in a stone cell that would be illegal to keep a mid-sized dog. She eats one meal a day and they only let her out to attend one class five times a week." Larianne's spoon clattered into her soup bowl.

"I think you'd better explain all of that, very clearly, right now," she said in a dark voice.