4
The castle smelled of damp and decay and Xander could never quite get his clothes completely dry. He huddled on his bed, pulled the blankets tighter about his shoulders and leaned back against the wooden headboard, carved with intricate designs of poisonous plants. Mold grew in the corners of his room and despite covering the flagstones with thick rugs, it was always cold. There was a fireplace surrounded by fancy metal scrollwork but nothing to burn and no way to start the flame anyway.
Xander sighed. This was not what he had signed up for.
His access to the hidden libraries had been refused until he could prove himself a true follower of the Shadow. He didn’t have any friends because the castle was full of guards below his station and feral children with no control over their magic.
