Aldric found himself lost in thought during his coursework. He briefly scribbled a few runes in ancient runes, paid brief attention for a short time in augmentation and manipulation when the architect lectured them on craft mastery.
Otherwise, his day had zipped by in a blur while he felt a wide array of things that diverted his focus. He had a sense of purpose and wonder, knowing his true goal, but he felt a sense of worry that he wouldn't meet expectations. Then there was the excitement of his meeting with Grum.
He wasn't certain Harden would come, knowing the other ravens would surely try talking him out of it. But he knew if he could learn the falcons' crafting ability, he'd surely be able to create more than just a flimsy door.
He wondered if he should tell Grum and possibly Harden about the labyrinth engine and their true purpose, but feared it would scare them more than anything. He decided to hold off until he was sure both boys could handle it.
Eventually, his classes came to an end for the day, and he was dismissed. He'd planned on skipping supper on the high perch that night. Not having a table to sit at would only make him feel even more alone. He also figured it was customary to make his quarters more inviting before entertaining guests.
He navigated the crowded corridor, brushing past wrens and falcons alike. He felt an odd sense of anger still bubbling in his chest, but couldn't seem to quench it. He felt it rise within him with each passing glance around him.
He focused his gaze on the floor to avoid snapping at any unsuspecting victims. He had brief moments of alleviated rage, but always felt the pressure return. He'd heard the architect's voice in his mind. His goal was world peace. How could he achieve peace when all he felt was fury?
Then he thought of his schoolmates and how they viewed him. The envy they felt for him, the jealousy they held. It made no sense to him; he didn't understand how his accelerated advancement placed him in a lesser category in their minds. It outraged him to think about.
He focused his mind again, and eventually, he came to a clearing in the tower. He stood in the entry hall alone as the chaotic chattering of students rushed further away toward the high perch. Finally, he exhaled, and his anger defused. He glanced around for a moment before making his way to the door with the star on it.
He twisted the knob and entered his quarters. He still felt a sense of astonishment, and he gazed through his domed ceiling at the twinkling lights above. He gazed at his boring walls and thought deeply. He opened his palm and stared down at it. He thought back to what he felt when he made his door. He remembered the burning in his chest, the shrinking of his lungs, and the sudden jolt of energy.
He sealed his eyes tight and visualized something smaller. He focused deeper until the room around him was obscured. He felt a rush of cool rush over him and a sudden brush of his hair. Then, he felt a flash of heat on his palm that shook him from the trance. When he jumped, something clattered to the floor.
He gazed down, sucking on his palm. On the floor, a large piece of chalk was fractured down the middle. He smiled widely and forgot almost entirely about his hand. He knelt, snatched the broken bits off the floor, and placed one half in his pocket. He took the other half and placed it on the floor.
From end to end, he traced intricate lines and patterns across his floor. When there were few empty spaces left, he moved to the walls, tracing around the boring portraits. By the end of his drawing session, the half piece of chalk had dwindled to no more than a quarter of its original length. He had removed most of the maps from the wall and rearranged a few others.
His walls and floors were lined with a large intertwined pattern, leaving only the young oak untouched. He bore a satisfied expression before placing the chalk with its counterpart. He had finished all the prep work he could before a light, almost hesitant knock echoed in the chamber.
His gaze whipped to the door, and an odd lump grew in his throat. He gazed around frantically, ensuring the pattern he'd drawn was adequately designed. He clapped the dust from his hands and quickly made his way to the door.
When he opened it, Grum stood cautiously, gazing around the dimly lit entryway.
"Well?" He insisted, looking at Aldric expectantly.
"Well, what?"
"Are ya gonna invite me in, or just stand there like a statue?" He asked, glancing over Aldric's head briefly.
"I…of course, yes, come in," he stuttered, stepping aside and opening the doorway for him to pass. Grum's eyes scanned the domed room as he entered, and his expression quickly shifted. He traced the pattern along the floor and along the walls. His eyes widened as they caught the shine of the twinkling lights above.
"You have this all to yourself?" He asked, meeting Aldric's eyes again.
"Unless I've got an invisible roommate," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood.
"You didn't get furniture?" Grum asked, noting the lack of seating.
"Guess not. Other than the bed and rug," he said, shrugging softly.
"Hmm"
"What?"
"I suppose that's what you need my help with?" He suspected, his expression souring.
"Wha- no. I mean, not entirely. I'm not interested in furnishing my room. I'm interested in knowing everything there is to know. That is what I need your help with," Aldric said, his expression cold and determined.
"What do I get in return?" Grum wondered. Aldric chuckled and reached into his pockets.
"You get to be the person who learned everything from me," his hand extended outward, and opened flat. He held the dwindling chalk out with a large smile on his face. Grum hesitated, then took the chalk.
"Let's begin,"