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My fingers are tingling, and I can't deny that the temptation is calling to me.

Everything I know about Umbra comes from my frightened mother.

What if Umbra could serve a purpose for our society after all? What if it could help me unlock my potential and finally make Mother happy? Would she change? Would everything go back to the way it was?

The first book I pulled from the shelf contains strange runes, a script I cannot read. The very same writing from the book that Alice's mother owns.

I promised Alice back then that I wouldn't tell anyone. And I would stick to that, even though it was ten years ago and we were naive little children at the time.

I'm looking at the simple cover of the book in front of me. Tattered leather.

A strange feeling creeps over me.

What if Rosalynd has far darker secrets?

I look down at the two young men standing next to Alice. Both taller than her, which is no feat.

And the painting.

Alice has brought us to a place full of possibilities. And the painting in front of her, above the fireplace, is proof that this town has many more secrets than I had previously suspected.

Spring Nocturne

Angus MacRae

Saturday, October 11, 1997

Entry 11

When I entered the room, a shiver ran down my spine.

She was lying there, and the first thing I saw was Alice.

Puzzled, I shook my head and the image faded.

There lay Rosalynd. No one else. And she was in a coma, in her bed, like a pale statue, her eyes closed.

I carefully closed the door behind me and crept past the bed, not taking my eyes off Rosalynd, as if she might wake up at any moment.

I stopped right next to her and opened her nightstand drawer. An unmistakable creak sounded, and I paused.

Rosalynd's eyes fluttered.

I held my breath.

When nothing happened, I pulled the drawer further open, and my heart leapt. With relief.

The book Alice had shown me back then. It was still there.

With a knowing smile, I reached for the old tome, picked it up, and ran my finger over the golden snakes entwined on the cover.

“Alaister...”

I flinched and recoiled, but Rosalynd had already grabbed my wrist.

“How is Alice?”

I stared at her in shock.