As the snow continued to fall, Aiden walked into Ashgate’s town center to the Scoty & Smyth Wireless Message Company’s office.

Ashgate had once been a prosperous timber center, but the town was in decline, forcing it to cater to the privileged students of the school. Remnants of its former past were still evident; lying on the outskirts of Ashgate’s limits were two of the lumberyards, abandoned, with its two smokestacks towering above Ashgate and, on a sunny day, casting twin shadows down towards the sea. But the Ashgate people remembered had disappeared, giving way to upscale shops to maintain the population’s simple livelihood. Even with this change, the town was almost bankrupt.

Aiden didn’t visit Ashgate; he was very content with the school and the facilities and services it provided. On the off chance he did visit the town, he usually went with his acquaintances to run errands or just to get off the school grounds. He didn’t like Ashgate either – after living in Howlvale County for his whole life, he felt anywhere else that wasn’t the capital city was like stepping down an entire flight of stairs onto a grubby landing. That’s how he saw Ashgate, and every subsequent town, too open for his liking, too dirty, too simple, and too far away from anything and everything important; even with the important facilities, such as the hospital, the market, the church, and the town hall, Aiden found problems in their design, their upkeep, all the way down to how much dust had collected in the corners of any room he was in.

Scoty & Smythe’s local office had the most outdated equipment in the whole empire. The large company had simply forgotten there was a wireless message station in Ashgate.

But Aiden sent the return message to his mother, and returned to the school to begin packing his summer attire. He stripped off his school uniform and threw it to the side, knowing the cleaning staff would fold it eventually. He replaced his clothes with comfortable loungewear.

He pulled one of the three stacked-up steamer trunks from what Aiden considered a hole in the wall, his closet. He popped open the top and began throwing his clothes into the box that could have easily held him. His room was cold again, but the thought of him being in Greenspring for almost an entire month warmed him up a bit.

But the room smelled funny. His room had always been impeccably clean, smelling only of the solutions that were used to clean the woodwork or brass. Most of the time, a faint smell of alcohol lingered in the air after they had cleaned; but this smell was far different. It was a sort of musty smell, somewhat like when the windows had been opened after rain and the sun had come out. There was something added to the smell along with its mustiness, but Aiden couldn’t put his finger on it. He walked around the room, searching for the source, but found his bedroom impeccably clean, as always.

Aiden drew in a deep breath and sat down on the brass bed, which creaked under his weight. He blinked slowly and reached for the bedpost. He felt tired, but he didn’t physically feel fatigued. He blinked again; Aiden found himself trying so hard to keep his eyes open. Had the walk into Ashgate taken so much out of him? It couldn’t have, it had never happened before.

He sat back slowly; he felt like he was floating. Aiden’s eyelids lowered and lowered until he could see the mysterious smell floating through the air – a greenish, yellow color that curved and swayed around every breath that billowed out of his mouth. He could see himself breathing it in, and eventually, he began breathing it out. His muscles refused to respond. He couldn’t feel his breathing as he continued to inhale this paralyzing smell, yet he had the energy to tuck himself into bed before anything else had happened to him.

Aiden closed his eyes, but became aware of everything in his surroundings. He could hear the floorboards down the hall from his room creak; Aiden could hear the turning of one of the chandelier lights, replacing a burnt-out one. He could hear his accelerated heartbeat in his ear, combating his painfully quiet sleeping quarters. He heard a door open; Aiden wasn’t sure if it was his or someone else’s, but he heard it. He tried in opening his eyes to see if it was his room, but he just didn’t have the energy anymore.

A window opened; he felt the cold surge in. He heard the wind outside, and the trees rustling.

Shuffling feet.

Whispers.

Rustling fabric.

The squeak of leather shoes against the floor.

The floorboards in the hall continued to creak.

Somewhere in the dormitory, music was playing.

Aiden could hear someone’s laughter.