CHAPTER 99: CHAPTER 99: THE CONSULTATION.

The morning of my first-ever business meeting arrived, and my core was humming with a quiet, internal panic. The lobby was a roaring sea of cheerful, noisy fans, but the real disaster was happening inside my own mind.

It felt exactly like I was back at my old job, getting that dreaded message from my boss: "Hey, got a sec for a quick sync-up?" It was never quick. And it was never just a sync-up. It was the familiar, unwelcome weight of a problem that was about to become my responsibility.

’I can’t do this, FaeLina,’ I projected, my mental voice a squeak of pure terror. ’I’m not a guru! I’m just a rock! What if she asks for the official DLRB-mandated ’Report on Existential Comfort’? What if she wants to see a magical diagram explaining my process?!’

’Just be yourself,’ FaeLina replied, though her own aura was buzzing with a frantic, managerial energy. She had spent the entire morning preparing a welcome basket for our new "client," complete with a complimentary teacup and a branded ’Comfy Corner’ pillow. ’And try to upsell her on a long-term service contract.’

At precisely noon, the chaotic symphony of the lobby was interrupted. A small golem made of rough river stones had entered the dungeon, moving with a slow, solemn purpose that seemed to suck the very noise from the air around it. The bards stopped singing mid-verse. The fans fell silent, a wave of confused quiet spreading through the room as they parted to let him pass.

Then, they saw what he was carrying.

Cradled gently in his large, stony hands, as if it were the most precious treasure in the world, was another, much smaller stone. It was a beautiful river rock, a perfect, calming shade of mossy green, and it radiated a faint, gentle aura of pure, unadulterated shyness. It was Willow, the Core of ’The Quiet Creek’.

Sir Crumplebuns, sensing the importance of the moment, puffed out his chest and heroically marched forward. With a grand, sweeping flourish, he took one of the plushest cushions from the lobby and placed it on the floor in the center of the room, creating a makeshift throne for the guest of honor.

Pebble walked to the cushion and, with a final, reverent bow that sent a few small pebbles clattering to the floor, gently placed the small, green Core upon it.

"The Great Sleeper," Pebble announced, his voice a low rumble of profound respect. "My Core, Willow of the Quiet Creek, is ready for her audience."

’Right. Showtime,’ I thought, my core humming with anxiety. ’Just be cool. Don’t let them see you’re just a rock who wants to nap.’

I focused my will. The ornate, hidden door to the third floor slid open with a soft, magical chime.

’The... uh... consultation chamber is now open,’ I projected, trying to sound as wise and mysterious as possible. ’Please... proceed.’

The team, who had been watching from the sidelines, immediately snapped into action, forming the most awkward, chaotic, but surprisingly heartfelt honor guard in the history of the world.

Kaelen and Zazu took their places at the front, their movements silent and graceful, like a pair of stoic, elven bookends. They turned and began to lead the way up the spiraling staircase to the third floor.

Pip and Clank, our "ambiance" team, scrambled to create the perfect atmosphere for the procession. Pip frantically adjusted a glowing light orb to a warmer, more "consultation-appropriate" hue, while Clank began to play a soft, welcoming melody that sounded suspiciously like a slightly out-of-tune lullaby.

Gilda and Sir Crumplebuns brought up the rear. Gilda stood at attention, her arms crossed, her expression a perfect mix of "welcome" and "if you scuff the floor, I will end you." Sir Crumplebuns held his Spoonblade in a formal salute. "HAIL, ESTEEMED GUEST!" he whispered, his "whisper" still a booming rumble that made the nearby teacups rattle.

Pebble just stood there for a long moment, cradling his Core, completely and utterly baffled by this strange ceremony. Finally, with a hesitant, shuffling step, he followed the escort up the stairs.

They entered the Heart of the Dream. The room was, if possible, even more comfortable than it had been during the showcase. The air was thick with a gentle, sleepy magic, and the only sound was the soft, magical whisper of a distant, gentle rain.

Pebble walked to the center of the room and gently, reverently, placed Willow’s Core in the center of the floating nest of pure coziness.

The team formed a silent, respectful circle around the bed.

For a long, quiet moment, nothing happened.

And then, I felt a new presence in my mind, so different from FaeLina’s usual chaotic energy.

This was a quiet, timid, and very polite feeling, like someone gently tapping on my psychic door. A moment later, a small, shy voice whispered in the quietest corner of my consciousness.

’...Um... hello? Are you... The Great Sleeper?’

It was the first time I had ever spoken directly to another Dungeon Core. It felt strange, like hearing a quiet echo of my own thoughts, but softer, gentler.

’That sounds like a lot of work,’ I replied, my mental voice surprisingly calm and gentle.

’You can call me Mochi.’

There was a pause, and then I felt a wave of pure, heartfelt relief from her. ’It’s an honor, Mochi,’ she replied. ’Your... your dungeon is very soft. I can feel it even from here. It feels... safe.’

I could feel her own consciousness, her own Aura of Sanctuary, reaching out and tentatively touching the edges of my own. Her magic felt like a cool, quiet stream. It was peaceful, but it was also weak and unfocused, like a song hummed without confidence.

’How... how do you do it?’ she asked, her thought a jumble of pure, earnest curiosity. ’How do you make them so... comfortable?

My dungeon is a nice place to sit, but... it’s not a place people want to stay. I try to make the moss soft and the water taste clean, but... it’s not the same. It doesn’t have the... the feeling yours does.’

I thought for a moment. FaeLina was probably expecting me to give her a long, detailed lecture on the "foundational principles of the Slumber System," complete with charts and a five-year plan.

But that sounded like a lot of work.

’Willow,’ I projected, my voice calm and simple. ’What is your favorite feeling in the entire world?’

She was quiet for a long moment, as if the question was one she had never considered before. Her psychic presence was a soft, gentle hum of contemplation. ’My favorite feeling?’ she finally whispered. ’I... I don’t know. Maybe... the feeling of the sun on a warm rock after a long rain? Or the sound of the water in my creek when it’s full and happy? The smell of wet earth?’

’Exactly,’ I confirmed. ’Your dungeon should not be what you think the adventurers want. It should be a perfect reflection of what you want. It should be the place you would build for yourself if you just wanted to take a nice, long nap. Don’t build a better bed for them. Build a better bed for you.’

I felt a subtle shift in her aura, a dawning light of understanding that was as warm and bright as the sun on a river stone.

’Build your own perfect nap,’ I concluded. ’And the rest will follow.’

The rest of the one-hour "audience" passed in a comfortable, productive silence. We didn’t speak again. We just... existed. Two quiet, sleepy rocks, sharing a moment of peace in the heart of my dungeon. It was, I had to admit, the least stressful meeting I had ever been a part of.

When Pebble returned to retrieve his Core, Willow’s aura felt different. It was still quiet and gentle, but it was now focused, confident, and humming with a newfound purpose.

’Thank you, Mochi,’ was her final thought to me. ’You have given me much to dream about.’

As they departed, FaeLina was already scribbling furiously on her clipboard, a manic, gleeful energy radiating from her.

"Okay, one successful consultation down!" she declared, her voice full of triumph. "I’ve already drafted a three-tiered pricing plan for future ’Tranquility Seminars’! The ’Pillow Package’ is for basic relaxation, the ’Blanket Bundle’ is for intermediate coziness, and for our premium clients, the ’Golden Slumber’ package, which includes a personal, one-on-one napping session with Zazu!"

She looked up from her notes, her eyes gleaming with a terrifying, entrepreneurial fire. "Now we just have to deal with the other 347 written requests for an audience that have come in through the Guild..."

Her words were cut short by the arrival of a new, very different kind of visitor. He wasn’t a fan or an apprentice. It was Dungeon-Dive Dave, the kingdom’s top influencer, and he had a very determined look on his face, and a very large, glowing Scry-camera floating over his shoulder.

The crowd of fans parted before him like the sea, a wave of excited whispers following in his wake.

"Great Sleeper, my friend!" he boomed, using the new, popular title the bards had given me. "We need to talk! The Royal ScryNet Guild has approved my petition! They want to commission a grand spectacle, to be broadcast over several evenings for the entire kingdom to see! We’re calling it ’Hearth & Lair: A Tour of Cores’! We’ll start with the lobby and work our way up! What do you say?"

__________

Author’s Note:

Mochi’s first business consultation is a huge success! His advice—"Build your own perfect nap"—is the most Mochi-style mentorship I can possibly imagine. It’s so simple, so lazy, and so profoundly wise all at the same time.

We’ve also met our first new Sanctuary Core, Willow! She and her golem, Pebble, are adorable, and I hope we see more of ’The Quiet Creek’ in the future.

But an apprentice was bad enough. Now a TV special?! With Dungeon-Dive Dave?! Mochi’s quiet, private home is about to be put on display for the entire kingdom in ’Hearth & Lair: A Tour of Cores’. This is a whole new level of not being able to take a nap. Thanks for reading!