The First Attempt~ I mist into the smell of ancient dusty books, the library being my first destination in Drakesheath. I know that my flesh mirrors the silver light. I know my heart beats to the icen cold of the room. It does not impede me from my desire. No fire burns in the hearth. Deserted as it is, the room has become a mausoleum of bound paper. Bound as surely as I am. A cold cairn to endless spasms of words that mortals are so fond of. Regardless, words that bring knowledge. Knowledge I so desperately crave. I begin my perusal of the impressive shelves of books. I shall know what it is I seek once my eyes fall upon it. I recall my father mentioned a curious character by the name of Falkland James, reputed to be a "wizard" of some sort encumbered by a myriad of facts about all manner of things, albeit perhaps a crackpot of the worst sort. Yet, this mortal may know at least one tidbit that would lead on to further exploration. One glance behind me, ensuring I remain alone and undisturbed in my enterprise. I dare not think what I would do to an intruder given my state of agitation, my raw state of anger and hope entwined. I see gilt-edged titles, I sense the human timelessness of their words, their fulsome humanity.....and, calling, almost silent, the song of angels breaking across my gleaming eyes like the waves of the deepest ocean. I struggle to focus, my brow wincing pain...not wanting to again fall into that void where neither life nor death are who I am.