I do not update this frequently. I just had a lot of time to finish this at school, since we didn't actually learn anything. And I had a sudden writing urge. Don't get your hopes up on my writing habits.

BTW, is it that weird to be able to wear glasses and headphones at the same time? I do it all the time, and I'm completely comfortable with it. Someone asked me today about it, like it was weird or something. Oh well, lucky me I guess?

I stood staring at the double doors of the inn, eyes wandering from the golden knob to the green designs twisting and swirling over the wooden doors' surfaces. There were two things that could possibly happen. One, Frederick could have found my bag and kept it safe with him. Two, the checkers could have found it instead and decided to wait for whoever forgot it so they could apprehend me. I guess there's a third option, but it probably would have happened already. So I'm going to ignore that option and hope for the other two. Especially the first one.

I reached out for the knob, but before I could fully grasp it, the door was pulled back, making me stumble in. I hit someone, so I looked up to be met with frightening eyes that made my blood run cold. They were red as the roses in the meadow were, and they were always deep crimson with what I would think is blood. But I did not think blood, I simply thought of the roses.

I scramble backwards and trip, now sitting on the ground as I stare up at the man. I then noticed his hair, white as a wedding dress or the snow atop the mountains, and I assume I could compare him to a mountain, with snow on top, lava on the inside, and dirt on the outside, as his clothes were themed with earthy colors that did not really suit him. He looked like red or purple would suit him, but not brown or green. It just didn't fit.

"S-sorry," I chocked out, slowly getting up and dusting off my jeans. I give him another look-over, and noticed a beige bag slung over his shoulder. I assume I didn't notice before because it mixed with the rest of his clothes.

"That bag..."

As I look closer, I realize that it was mine.

"I left that here... I was looking for it. Would you mind giving it back?"

He looked at the bag, then back at me, and suddenly I felt very meek. I started shuffling in place, and he randomly started smiling at me in a very arrogant way that sort of pissed me off. He wordlessly lifted the bag off, holding it close to himself, yet still looking at me, as if daring me to come get it from him. Honestly, he really was starting to piss me off.

I took a step or two closer, leaving enough space between me and him so that I could still reach out my arms freely, and I held out my hand, hoping that he would be so kind enough to give it back without an aggravating attitude. Thankfully, he did step forward, but he did not give it back. He simply held the bag over my hand, letting hover there. I realize that this is a challenge; a challenge to see which of us two is more stubborn than the other. It was a stupid, childish challenge, but I seemed to have fallen for it, so now there is no going back.

I made sure that my feet would stay planted in place, and I glared, not reaching my hand up, only daring him to let it go. His irritating smirk grew two times in size, and I literally wanted to slap it off. Seriously, my hand twitched in anticipation.

"Boy, you're different."

His wolfish, deep voice would have startled me, but as I said, I made sure that I would stay planted, even if something surprising was to happen.

"And this is coming from the person with crimson eyes and white hair. Release my bag. I have an appointment at nine."

His eyebrow raised. "Did a certain someone miss Checking day?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not cut out for it. You're lucky foreigners don't get checked. It's completely unnerving, and I hate having to deal with it..."

My eyes widened for a moment as I realized something. Foreigners don't get checked.

"Actually, keep the bag for now. I'll come back for it after nine! Bye!"

"Woah, what? Hey, wait!"

I ran off, a smile on my face, and I head home, knowing I have an extra key atop the door frame. I probably should have checked if he could stay until that time, but it's fine. I could care less if the bag is gone. I just didn't want the book to be found.

I enter my house, and I see that it was 8:21 on the clock hanging over my fireplace. I'm sure the council wouldn't mind me being early. In fact, I'm sure they would probably be pleased.

I stare at myself through the mirror, adjusting my white cravat to make it even on both sides. I decided with a simple yet formal look, as that is what usually pleases the council, as I had learned before. Most of my outfit was grey and white, my dress shirt and cravat being white, while my waistcoat, trousers, and loafers were grey. My hair was curly and slightly damp, and although I hate how my hair bounces when it's curly, I let it be, as I wanted to be there earlier than expected. Again, the council likes that.

Running a hand through my hair to slick it back, I skipped the gel and went with this look. It wasn't too formal, nor too casual, and it looked nice for any occasion. With confidence, I walk out the door with nothing in hand, as most of my everyday items were in the bag. Not that I really needed such items.

When I make it to the council house, I straighten my back and weave my fingers through my hair once more, just in case, then bang the door knocker loudly, not too slow and not too fast. The council doesn't like it to hear a hasty arrival, nor do they like a nervous, hesitant arrival.

"Come in."

I push the double doors open, using as much force as I could to make it move smoothly, and I stride in, head held high, but not to the point of looking mighty.

A council member raises a grey eyebrow, eyeing me up and down from over his glasses.

"You were not expected until 9:00. Is there a reason for your early arrival?"

"None in particular."

"Very well. You may sit down. Our discussion shall start."

There was no emotion in his voice nor face, but I had learned to read his movements, and I could tell he was pleased.

I sit down, as it was not an option. I had learned that the hard way. I fold my hands over my lap, not over the desk; that was considered rude, as if I would have been acting like I was in charge. No, my hands were folded atop my lap, and my legs were straight, together, and firmly planted in place. Not crossed, that was another sign of superiority that the council detests. I was careful with my movements, and I must be careful with my words as well. Keep it brief and polite, do not question them, do not mumble, no obnoxious loudness, and certainly no yelling for any reason whatsoever, no matter how angry or distressed you may be.

A council member passed a file to a woman with sharp features, no glasses, unlike most of the council, and much younger. She peers into the file, eyeing every word for a long period of time, making me wait longer just to make me feel intimidated.

"It says that this has been only one of the many countless times you've skipped Checking day."

"15, ma'am."

The council is usually impressed when you answer their questions before they ask. She didn't seem as impressed as the others.

"Did I ask you how many times you've skipped? Did I question you at all?"

"No, ma'am."

She didn't seem satisfied, but I remained silent, hoping that she would notice that it was my final answer.

"Hmph. Got quite a name for yourself, it seems. Some people do not even call you by your first name. Shadow, was it?"

"That is the name that they have given me, ma'am."

"What is your real name?"

I then notice where this is going, and I tensed immediately, not responding. They could not make me speak, it was against the law in this town. And so I took advantage of that right, unlike many, and remained silent.

"Pesky little vermin, aren't you?"

I was surprised for a moment, as I have not heard many people insult me so openly, however anger boiled quickly afterwords. I shouldn't have, but I glared, and she shrunk in a way that satisfied me too much for my own good. I held in a smirk, as I knew my evil reputation won't improve any more if I start acting like I was evil. Honestly, I don't think I can take much more of the silent ridicule that I have to deal with every day.

"My name holds no meaning to you. Give it up."

The council woman stood up and walked towards me, and I felt myself slowly tensing more and more with each step. Ghostly black shadows started flickering around me, yet she kept walking towards me. I became nervous, and I felt threatened, and now the shadows grew and grew, and my breathing quickened, and my mind rambled and rambled with the possibilities of what could happen any second. What will happen any second, so long as she continues approaching me.

And as she reached her hand out, I chocked on my breath, and the lights in the council house went completely out, all at once.

For a moment, I thought it was me, but then I realized that the lightbulbs exploded, and electricity was still flowing through the wires powerfully.

I didn't do it.

I stand up quickly and take a step backwards, knocking over my chair. My eyes dart all around me, and I could see. I could see the council woman, confused and angry, and the rest of the council scrambling around like ants in the rain. I saw shadows darker than even the near blackness of the rest of the room, swirling around with their jaws open and laughing. And then I saw one shadow, with eyes that illuminated the room. Eyes that were dark, yet bright in contrast to everything else, moving in humanlike motions, unlike my other shadows, and slowly moving across the room, and I could clearly hear their footsteps against the marble floors. This shadow had legs, and arms, and a waist, and shoulders, and a head.

"Stop! You!"

The eyes didn't turn around, and their brightness stopped me from being able to see the rest of the person, so I ran after them. The moment my feet sprinted off the ground, so did the other, and the eyes exited the council house. When I escaped the house, the eyes were gone, and I frantically looked around, trying to catch the person who did whatever the hell they did to the lights, because there is something about them that just doesn't make sense to me. I need to know who did it.

I catch sight of an unusual brightness to the dim lights of the cobblestone streets, and I immediately run after it. It turned around, and all I could see then was the back of the accused's head, a dark red hood over their hair.

I finally am able to corner them into an alley, and by then I am gasping for air, as exercise was not my area of expertise. The hooded figure turns around, and my breath hitches, because up close, I can imagine the dark colored roses from the meadow, and I could practically see that arrogant smirk floating around in my mind.

"You..."

The hooded figure turned around, then jumped onto a trashcan, latched onto a clothing line, then jumped atop a roof, and vanished in a matter of seconds.

On the ground was a beige sling-over.