"What the hell was that?!" Sam's arms were flailing wildly. "Since when do you fight like some- some kind of mystical warrior monk from the eastern mountains?! Did you secretly train with shadow assassins while I wasn't looking?!"
Nero couldn't help but chuckle. God, he'd forgotten how Sam could turn everything into some fantasy novel reference. "It's so nice to see you, Sam. I missed you a lot." He opened his arms. "Want a hug?"
Sam's face contorted into an expression of pure confusion. The students around them exchanged glances, whispering behind their hands. Nero couldn't care less.
"Why are you being so weird, dude?" Sam took a step back. "Miss me? We literally share a dorm. We saw each other at breakfast." He squinted. "Did you hit your head? Because that would explain the sudden martial arts skills AND the weird emotional stuff-"
It had been decades for Nero though.
He just kept smiling, arms still wide open. "Hug?"
"Come on. Stop it." Sam looked around frantically. "People are staring! This is NOT helping your reputation after that whole thing you just pulled and- and- stop looking at me like that! Why are you looking at me like that?!"
Nero didn't budge, just stood there smiling.
"FINE!" Sam threw his hands up in defeat. "One side-hug! Like normal people! Like bros do! Just- stop with the puppy eyes!"
Sam awkwardly shuffled closer, giving Nero the most hesitant, rigid side-hug in the history of side-hugs, complete with the mandatory two pats on the back that apparently made it more masculine.
The two-pat side-hug was so perfectly, awkwardly Sam that he had to bite back a laugh. Sixty years, and some things never changed.
He matched the awkward energy, giving his own two pats in return, playing along with the whole "bros being bros" thing that had seemed so important when they were actually twelve. It was ridiculous and perfect and absolutely everything he needed.
"There. Done. Happy now?" Sam pulled back, adjusting his robes and eyeglasses like they'd been somehow disheveled. "Can we talk about the fact that you just went full warrior-mage on Damus? Because that feels like the more pressing topic here."
"Saw it in a book," Nero said, grinning.
"What book? Because l-" Sam glanced around, suddenly very aware of the dozens of eyes still fixed on them. He hunched his shoulders slightly, that familiar nervous tic Nero had almost forgotten about.
"Hey, uh, maybe we should go to the library? Or the dining hall? You know, somewhere less..." Sam gestured vaguely at their audience.
"Wait." Nero's eyes lit up. "Is Xerkes still doing that tomato soup?"
"Are you serious right now?" Sam's jaw dropped. "Xerkes' tomato soup? The soup that literally has whole tomatoes floating in it? The one that made people actually cry? That soup?"
"That's the one."
"The soup that started a petition to ban it last term? The one they say violates at least three cooking regulations? The one that-"
"Yes, Sam. That soup. The awful one. I want some."
"Did that punch scramble your brain? Because I distinctly remember you saying it tasted like 'someone boiled old boots in tomato juice and then forgot about it for a week.'"
Nero was already walking. Maybe his palate had changed after sixty years. Or maybe he just missed how horrifically bad it was. Sometimes you don't appreciate truly terrible things until they're gone.
"Are you coming?" he called back to Sam. "I want to see your face when I actually enjoy it."
"This is definitely brain damage," Sam muttered, hurrying to catch up. "We're going to need to get you checked out. Right after you explain about that book. And the fighting. And why you're suddenly craving food crimes."
*****
"Urgh." Nero's face scrunched up as he swallowed.
"See? SEE? I told you!" Sam was practically bouncing in his seat. "What did you think was going to happen?"
Apparently, sixty years hadn't changed his palate at all. If anything, the soup was worse than he remembered - chunks of barely-cooked tomatoes floating in what tasted like hot water someone had waved a tomato at. From a distance.
No salt. No pepper.
"Ah, that feels nostalgic." He took another spoonful.
Sam stopped mid-rant, staring at him. "Are you... are you actually eating more?"
The dining hall of Xerkes brought back memories. Just like before, it had a glass dome ceiling. Blue fire orbs floated near the top, mixing with the daylight. Round tables were spread across three levels, connected by staircases and floating platforms. Plants grew everywhere - on the walls, in hanging baskets - and some of them would steal food when students weren't looking.
"By the way, where are your eyeglasses?"
Nero blinked.
Ah. That explained why everything had been slightly blurry.
In his time, they had developed a complex artifice-enhanced spell for vision correction - it had taken decades to perfect the layered runes and enchantments needed to handle different types of vision problems. But that was still twenty years away from being created, and another five again from being perfected.
Now, he'd have to make do with regular eyeglasses. "Must have lost them during the thing with Damus this morning. I'll check the found objects later."
"Speaking of Damus..." Sam leaned forward. "What was that all about? Seriously?"
"Sam." Nero set down his spoon. "Starting today, we're going to fight back."
"We?"
"Yes, we." Nero grinned. "You wanted to know about those spells, right?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"An adventurer mage taught them to me. I've been practicing in secret."
Sam's eyes went wide. "What? Who? What other spells did you learn? When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?"
"She made me promise not to tell anyone." Nero's smile turned mysterious. "But... she had floating white hair and galaxies in her eyes."
Sam stared at him for a long moment. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Bullshitting me."
"I'm not though."
"Right. You're saying you talked to a girl? You?"
Nero froze for a second. He'd expected Sam to not believe him anyway, but not the reason of his disbelief.