Ariel was buried deep in her books, her swollen fingers aching from writing day and night without a single hour of rest. Yet, knowing how precious the knowledge hidden within this castle was, she never once paused in her relentless pursuit of magic.
That night, as always, Ariel was buried in her studies when a sudden sting made her flinch. She looked down to see a thin line of red blooming across her finger, a paper cut.
With a quiet sigh, she took it as a sign to pause. Pressing the wound to her lips, she tasted the metallic tang as she tried to stop the bleeding.
This night marked the fifth week since she had come to the castle. She still hadn't uncovered the secrets Morpheus was so desperate to hide, but she had learned much from him, all without letting him see her suspicion.
