1.19 The Call

Black. Everything was black, a never ending darkness. Nero stood still, wondering why he was in a perpetual void. He wondered if he died again and was given another world to live in. Or maybe, he was finally crossing the bridge to the afterlife. What do they call it again? The place of purification or punishment of souls? Ah, that's right, a purgatory.

Nero sighed when nothing happened. Although he was in a void, the sound of his exhalation echoed around the empty space. He walked straight ahead, unafraid of where it would lead him to. The ground was flat like a concrete path, and the touch of its rough texture made him realize that he had no footwear.

Five.

Ten.

Fifteen.

An imaginary clock ticked inside his head as he wandered barefooted. Half an hour passed and finally, there was a change in his surrounding. Just a few meters ahead was a faint source of light. He walked towards it.

As he came closer, the temperature increased significantly.

Still, Nero persevered through the heat until he was a foot step away from the source of the brightness. In front of him was a scorching white fire. Its flames reached only to his knees and you wouldn't expect that this is where such searing heat came from.

[Touch it.] A low voice suddenly spoke. Nero looked around and saw that he was still alone with the white fire. [Touch it.] The voice whispered once again.

"Who are you?" Nero asked.

[Touch it.] The voice repeated.

"Why?" Nero asked this time.

[You are the chosen one.]

Nero furrowed his brows. Does this have something to do with his reincarnation? "What do you mean?" he demanded.

[Touch it.] The voice said once again.

Nero did not respond back and gave the white fire a contemplating look. Then slowly, he reached out his arms. He expected his hand to be burned but as his fingers touched the bright flame, he was dumbfounded to feel how cool it was. Nero leaned in more until his whole right arm was engulfed by the fire.

Nero gasped when it suddenly blazed all over his body.

Cold, he was starting to feel cold.

He tried to escape but his limbs won't move. Nero cursed, he was near to hypothermia. He was shivering and he was feeling lightheaded.

Just as his consciousness was about to fade away, the voice whispered to him once again.

[Take it.]

'Take what?" He hissed inside his head, hoping that whatever non-human out there could hear his thoughts.

[My power.] The voice replied. [Let it in. Let it be.]

'Just who are you?" Nero was starting to feel weak. The chaining force on his limbs disappeared and he slumped to the floor, the flames embracing him whole.

[Take it, chosen one.] Was the last he heard before he succumbed his self to the darkness.

---

Nero woke up with hitched breaths. He frantically looked around and calmed down when he grasped that he was in his room. Nero checked his body but nothing changed. He was on his nightclothes and his skin was as soft and rosy. He left his bed and positioned his self in front of his mirror. He inspected his face and still, nothing was amiss.

'Was is a nightmare?' He furrowed his brows and turned to leave, not noticing a faint glint on the back of his neck, hidden by strands of white hair.

Nero passed by the drapes and went outside to his balcony terrace to get some fresh air.

His fingers trailed over the flowering vines which climbed around the legs of a simple wooden arbor and dangled from the top of the arch. He was quite impressed at how much things have changed in less than a day.

Once he passed by the arbor, he was greeted by the bloom of red flowers. Nero did not fail to realize that they were the same color of his eyes.

He let out a fond chuckle, picking a red sweet william flower and bringing it to his face to smell the subtle fragrance it has. Nero then placed it on his ear as he stepped towards the railing. He welcomed the gentle breeze and marveled as the moon tucked itself to slumber, letting the sun paint the sky with pretty pastel shades.

Tilting his head to look down, he halted when he saw two figures by the main garden. They were the duchess and the duke. Nero hummed and leaned on the railing as he waited what would come out from the interaction.

---

Every morning, Duchess Mirae would tend to her plants. Truth to be told, this talent of hers was a coping mechanism. With a vast land to take care and a hoard of various types of plants to look after, she was free from the saddening situation of her own family.

But as a mother, she can not fully forget. There are times where she would plant flowers as a message to her family. Camellia for longing. Lilacs, hyacinth, and gardenia for her three children. Roses for her husband. And Gladiolus flowers for strength and hope for her family. Then the red flowers that she collected for her poor Nero. She wanted to let her son know that she never cared whether he was cursed or not. He was still her precious Nero.

Raena Cailer, who also learned that language of flowers to be as inclined as possible to the duchess, would tear up at the sentiments of the duchess. She had always prayed that the duchess would one day have the comfort that she needed. It was such a blessing when Lord Nero came out and personally broke the wall he had built for years.

Ever since she was reunited with her youngest son, her smiles were as genuine as they were back then. But Raena still catches a moment of dullness on the duchess' hazel eyes. Just like right now, the duchess was zoned out as she watered some a pot of roses.

"Your Highness, the water is spilling." Raena interrupted her thoughts and went to take the watering can from the duchess's hand.

"Oh my," Duchess Mirae exclaimed and took a step back so the hem of her gown won't get wet from the puddle that had formed on the stoned pathway.

She gasped when she bumped onto someone. A pair of hands made their way to her shoulders so she could steady herself and prevent from falling.

Duchess Mirae froze at the sight of an emerald ring. The same ring on her hand.

"Your Highness," Raena greeted the duke. A low rumble was heard as Veron acknowledged her presence.

"I'll give you some privacy," Raena announced when she straightened her back and directed a knowing smirk to the duchess. Mirae saw this and felt heat rose to her cheeks. Once it was only the both of them, an awkward silence filled the air.

"Uhh," Mirae started, unable to tolerate the awkwardness.

"What-" Her words were cut off when the hands went to her waist, embracing her figure as she felt more weight on her right shoulder. She shuddered at the hot air that fanned her neck as Veron nuzzled his nose.

"My dear," a hoarse voice called out to her. Tears welled up her eyes at the vulnerability in his shaky tone. "My love, I am so sorry."