Zexion—241
He remembers the smell best, musty from dust and time. He opens the door hesitantly, quietly, and cautiously and it's exactly the same. He inhales and wonders what he would feel if he had a heart. The scent of the old library is bringing back things long, long forgotten. A small murmur and a tiny magic light follows him inside. He walks slowly by each shelf; ten memories for each row and thinks that he can finally reach the higher books.
He walks silently deeper inside and ghostly memories play in his head. He can hear hidden laughter and giggles that were once echoed around the whole town but are now no more than imprints in time. He can almost see the servants progressing through their chores and if he strains past the mundane ghosts he can feel the warmth of a hand in his. He can hear someone's patient sigh as old formulas dance before him. He jerks his shoulder and spins around, the light dashing around with him and he swears he just felt a hand pat his back (though he will not admit the seeming fatherly gesture). When he feels a straightening of his coat as though someone was trying to dress him that he decides it's time to leave. He opens a portal, now thinking this a bad idea, and nearly flees inside when the taste (just barely a hint) of ice cream tingles on his tongue.