Nero's hands slowly released their grip on the armrests.

"That was…" he began, but couldn't quite find the words.

"Impressive?" Bishop supplied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Terrifying? Both?"

"Both," Nero admitted.

He had seen the horrors in the wild. The magic of corruption itself. But this was something different.

There was something... magical about what he had just witnessed.

And that filled him with wonder.

Bishop settled back into his chair across from Nero. He seemed to read Nero's expression as he spoke,

"When you invoke a name, the aspect that manifests depends on your understanding of what is called upon and your intent in calling it. Fire is not simply destruction. Fire is transformation. It is light. It is warmth. It is purification. It is energy. It is living."

"By invoking 'Shemhazai' with the intent to manifest fire's illuminating aspect rather than its consuming aspect, I created flames that possess the qualities of fire—heat, light, and movement, but without the destructive component. It is still fire, in every meaningful sense, but it is fire bound by my Will and channeled through my understanding."

Nero frowned, his mind working through the implications. "So you can make fire that doesn't burn. Could you make water that doesn't make things wet? Wind that doesn't move anything?"

Bishop chuckled. "In theory, yes, though such things would be rather pointless, wouldn't they? The purpose of sorcery is not to create contradictions for their own sake, but to manifest specific effects that serve a purpose."

He leaned forward slightly.

"The flames I showed you have practical applications. They can illuminate spaces without risk of setting them ablaze. They can provide warmth without consuming fuel. They can be used in certain alchemical processes where heat is needed but combustion would ruin the result. Every aspect of an element has its uses if you understand it well enough."

Nero nodded slowly, beginning to grasp the concept. "And the name you spoke—Shemhazai—that's the true name of fire?"

"One of them," Bishop corrected. "There are many names for fire, each associated with different aspects and traditions. Shemhazai is the name I learned, hence the one that resonates with my understanding of fire's transformative nature. Another practitioner might know fire by a different name, and their invocations would feel different, manifest differently, even if the end result appears similar."

He paused, his expression growing more serious.

"This is why I warned you to doubt what you see. Speaking a true name without proper preparation, without genuine understanding... such a thing can have catastrophic results. The force may still answer, but it will not be bound by your intent. It will manifest in its rawest form, and that rarely ends well for the caster."

The room felt colder now despite the earlier display of flames.

"You said you would show me an example," Nero said carefully. "Was that all, or is there more?"

Bishop smiled faintly. "Eager to see more despite the warnings? That's both encouraging and concerning."

He stood again, moving back to the center of the room.

"Very well. But this time, I want you to observe carefully. Not just with your eyes, but with your soul as well."

Nero nodded quickly as he quietly activated Heretic Eyes. He had been unable to do so earlier due to how fast everything had happened. He absolutely didn't want the opportunity to pass him by this time around.

In an instant, he observed the familiar shift in his vision as the world took on new dimensions. The room exploded with information; lines of Ein Sof flowing through the air, condensing around the glowing vials, pulsing through the runes on the walls.

As for Bishop…

Nero completely avoided looking at him entirely.

He had learned his lesson.

"Watch carefully," Bishop said.

This time, Bishop spoke a different name. The sound was softer, more lilting, like water over stones.

"Rahab."

The air around Bishop began to shimmer and distort. Nero watched with his Heretic Eyes as the flows of energy around the Pharmacist shifted. The energy flowed about like coiling serpents, gathering and condensing to take form.

Water appeared, manifested as perfect spheres, dozens of them, floating around Bishop like celestial dewdrops. Each sphere was crystal clear, reflecting the light from the runes on the walls, and they moved in graceful, complex patterns that seemed to follow some invisible geometry.

Nero tried to focus his Heretic Eyes further, to understand the truth hidden within this perplexing, wondrous sight, but the more he looked, the less sense it made.

After some time, his eyes and head began to ache, a familiar warning that he was pushing too far.

He deactivated the Heretic Eyes, letting the world return to normal vision. The spheres of water continued their elegant dance, and Bishop stood calmly at their center, completely dry despite being surrounded by liquid.

"This," Bishop said, gesturing to the floating spheres, "is water invoked not for its fluid nature or its capacity to quench thirst, but for its quality of reflection and clarity. These spheres can be used for scrying, for seeing things distant or hidden. They are windows rather than the substance of a material thing."

He made another gesture, and the spheres collapsed inward, merging into a single larger sphere that hovered at chest height. Within it, an image formed—the street outside the apothecary, people moving about their business, completely unaware they were being observed.

"Sorcery," Bishop said quietly, "is not about power alone. It is about understanding the many facets of what exists around us and learning to call upon that which we need. Every element, every force, everything is multitudes. Fire is not destruction alone. Water is not flow alone. They are ideas made manifest, and ideas have infinite variations."

He closed his fist again, and the sphere of water vanished as completely as the flames had before.

He returned to his seat once more.

"The mystery is the point, Nero. The unknowability. We learn to work with forces we cannot fully comprehend, guiding them through intent and tradition and carefully cultivated understanding, but we never truly master them. The forces are older than we are, much deeper than we are. Like the trees and the sky and the oceans."

Nero sat in silence. Then his lips pursed into a bitter smile,

"I don't get it." He confessed.

Bishop chuckled with a smile,

"You will be a wonderful student, Nero. If you want to know more, perhaps you can come by once in a while until it is time for your trials?"

Nero hesitated for a moment before asking,

"Will that be okay?"

Bishop nodded, "Of course it will be."

"How long do you think it will take for me to learn this?" he finally asked.

Bishop guffawed. "Hopefully, never, if you are fortunate. Knowledge is a harrowing burden sometimes. But something tells me you have what it takes to bear that burden, Nero. You are one created to suffer. I guess you could say that is as much of a blessing as it is a curse..."

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