Bishop reached calmly for the vial, his fingers wrapping around it with care and delicacy. The ruby-red liquid inside caught the light as he lifted it, casting faint reflections across the surface of his desk. He rose from his chair and moved toward the far wall where a large stone basin rested on a raised platform.
Nero watched as Bishop approached the basin. It was carved from a single piece of dark gray stone, smooth and polished to a dull sheen. The interior was filled with water so clear it appeared almost invisible, and along the rim and inner surface, intricate runes had been etched into the stone. They looked a bit similar to the ones that covered the walls, but these were much smaller and far more precise, almost coming together to form a singular rune themselves. They seed to pulse with a faint rhythm that matched the thrumming energy in the air.
Bishop uncorked the vial and held it over the basin. He paused for a mont, glancing back at Nero with an unreadable expression, then tilted the vial and let the liquid pour out.
The ruby-red substance hit the water with barely a sound. It dispersed slowly, tendrils of color spreading outward like smoke through still air. Nero leaned forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on the basin. The runes along the rim began to glow faintly, their light intensifying as the liquid mixed with the water.
Then... nothing.
Nothing happened.
The glow surrounding the stone faded away slowly and the water remained clear, the faint red tint from the blood dissipating until it was barely visible. The runes dimd back to their original faint pulse.
Bishop stood there for a long mont, staring down at the basin with furrowed brows. Then he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.
"Well," he muttered, turning back to Nero.
"It is impossible to be a hundred percent certain with these things. Perhaps Lyon made a few erroneous observations after all."
Nero nodded slowly, feeling a strange mixture of relief and disappointnt.
Relief because the idea of being tied to noble blood had felt wrong, like a betrayal of the life he had known. Plus he had no idea what sort of implications sothing like that could co with. After all, how in the Seven Hells could he be a noble? Just the thought of it frightened him to no end.
And then, there was the disappointnt because... well, he wasn’t entirely sure why he was disappointed. Perhaps it was because it could have pointed him in the right direction. For all he knew, both his parents were dead. However, they surely had parents when they were still living. He knew his mother ca from the city, but he had no idea the kind of life she led before birthing him or eting his father.
He exhaled, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. "So that’s it, then?"
Bishop opened his mouth to respond, but the words never ca.
His expression changed.
It started with a slight widening of his eyes, then a sharp intake of breath. His gaze snapped back to the basin, and Nero followed it instinctively.
The water was changing.
It started at the center, where the blood had first been poured. A faint shimr appeared, barely visible at first, like sunlight filtering through shallow water. Then it spread slowly, creeping outward in delicate spirals. The clear water began to shift, taking on a pale, almost translucent hue.
Golden.
Nero’s breath caught in his throat.
The color deepened, spreading faster now, until the entire basin glowed with a soft, radiant gold. The runes along the rim flared to life, their light no longer faint but blazing, casting sharp shadows across the room. The thrumming energy in the air intensified, vibrating through Nero’s chest like a second heartbeat.
Bishop took a step back, his mouth slightly open. He stared at the basin as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Then he let out a low, breathless laugh.
"Well I’ll be damned."
Nero shot to his feet. "What? What’s going on?"
Bishop didn’t answer imdiately. He moved closer to the basin, leaning over it, his eyes scanning the glowing water with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He reached out as though to touch it, then pulled his hand back, his fingers trembling slightly.
Finally, he turned to Nero, and the look on his face was one of utter disbelief.
"You do indeed have noble blood," Bishop said, his voice quiet but firm. "And not just any kind, either." He paused, his gaze locking onto Nero’s. "You might have lineage tying you to the highest nobility ranks in the entire empire."
The words hung in the air like weights the size of mountains.
Nero stared at him, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard. Highest nobility. The highest... What did that even an?
Bishop’s expression shifted, the disbelief on his face fading into a darker expression.
Suspicion.
His eyes narrowed, "Who exactly are you, Nero?"
Nero felt a wave wash over his mind, throwing it into turbulence.
Who am I? Nero asked himself.
The image of a forlorn town washes over his mind.
A man with a soft smile, and a woman with a tender hug.
Their expressions have beco blurry with ti, and their faces hard to rember.
Nero looks down at his own hands.
’Who am I?’
In that mont, he realizes...
’I don’t know.’
He had absolutely no idea who he was. His parents had died before they could tell him.
If what Bishop said was true, then...
He shook his head and turned to the man before him.
"I am Nero the commoner. I might have noble blood, but I am no noble."
Bishop seed a bit surprised.
"I thought you’d be more excited."
He sighed and clicked his tongue.
"It’s a bit of a surprise, but I guess since it’s already all but confird, I might as well get on with the good news. We can discuss your heritage so other ti."
He turned to Nero and clapped his hands together lightly with a grin on his face,
"You can grow big."
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