Aleister felt his legs pulse and throb as they exerted a dull soreness. After running all day yesterday, Gilmore agreed to take him to Castle Kaynmur. Although, getting him to agree with the reason Aleister gave was quite the difficult challenge.

The first thing he did this morning after he left bed was to drink a burning hot cup of coffee. A drink he read about many years ago but never had the opportunity to drink until now due to how expensive it was. Luckily, the manor’s storeroom contained more food that he would ever consume. His initial response to the drink was quite positive. Although, with the amount of care and attention to detail he watched Myra put into making his drink, he would be surprised if it didn’t come out well.

After the scorching drink, he pulled a full one-hundred and eighty degree rotation into an ice bath. According to Syn, it would help to relax his muscles and allow him to run with much less trouble the next day. He held a deep breath and immersed himself in the freezing water. His initial gut reaction told him to jump out and escape. But he forced himself to stay. It only took a couple of minutes before he grew accustomed to the temperature and was able to fully relax. In fact, by the end of his bath, the water no longer felt cold, but instead he felt a visceral burn. But it wasn’t one of pain or pleasure. He continued his studies as several hours passed by. It was around noon when Gilmore took the two of them to Castle Kaynmur.

However, unlike him, Myra found the castle fascinating. During his return, Aleister noted that the castle felt...empty even though there were was more activity and magnitudes more servants running around. To him, it felt too large. It had everything, but because it did, it also had nothing of interest to him, except of course the library, which he planned to explore in much greater detail soon. They eventually made their way to the empty throne room.

“Do you feel anything?” Gilmore asked.

Myra closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “I don’t think so,” she said.

“That’s okay, because I don’t feel anything either,” Gilmore said.

“But I do feel something,” Aleister said, as he concentrated on the surrounding environment.

Gilmore looked at him in confusion. “Did you feel this last time?”

Aleister shook his head. “There’s something different about this place than last time.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you understand what it is,” Gilmore said.

“That’s fine,” Aleister said. “If it isn’t just a misconception and something important, I need to understand it on my own, anyway.”

“Alright,” Gilmore said before ushering Myra up to the throne. “This is your last chance. I’ve seen what has happened to those that sit upon the Crystal Throne that aren’t of my bloodline or those that aren’t already accomplished Weavers. The experience has broken and killed many men and women much stronger than you.”

“I understand,” Myra said without hesitation.

Gilmore nodded as he talked to talk about his own experience the first time he sat down upon the throne. Aleister started off by paying close attention, but that different sensation distracted him time and time again.

“Can you feel that too?” he asked.

Syn flew off his shoulder. “I’m actually more surprised that you’re able to feel it so soon.”

“What is it?”

Syn scoffed at him. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out. If I spoiled every mystery, then it wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?”

“I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing with you,” Aleister said.

He wandered to a spot he felt comfortable in and closed his eyes. He let the odd feeling flow through him. The feeling of knowledge and wonder flowed through him as he caught the faint scent of almonds and vanilla. He let his body act on his own as it honed into the source of that scent. Wandering with his eyes close was dangerous, but to his surprise he hadn’t run into anyone nor had a servant stopped him in his tracks. Based on recent memory, he knew that he had traced his steps back to the library. He opened his eyes, but instead of shelves full of books, maps and other literature, he found himself in a small candlelit room. He took a step forward and noticed that someone sat in the mahogany desk that faced him.

The wide eyes of a gaunt and diminutive man dressed in loose and billowing black robes peered up from the hefty book in his hands. His anemic face stared deep into the eyes of Aleister, looking at him with major interest.

Aleister didn’t move a single muscle, as he didn’t know whether or not this entity would be friendly or start an attack any second.

“Someone like you should not be here,” the man spoke out after several moments of staring. His voice wasn’t hoarse like Aleister expected. Instead, it was smooth and modulated, making it pleasant to hear.