I was embarrassed. I felt an almost physical wave of coldness and hatred emanating from him. His eyes were burning with fire, but in a moment that hostility evaporated, and he was back to normal again. The change was striking, as if two different personalities lived within him. It would only take me six months or so to learn to do exactly the same.

When he left with the Mentor, the castle seemed particularly empty and dreary. Although I had Alicia, my silent friend, she could not talk to me, so I had no choice but to take up books again. The Mentor had left some out for me.

When the snow melted, I went back to work in the vineyard, though it was no longer necessary. The manual labour in the open air was more like entertainment for me, especially now I’d finally learnt to use my magic. It seemed to me then that my powers knew no bounds. I didn’t have to make much of an effort to summon it anymore. On the contrary, I could hardly restrain it. It’s hard to describe what was going on in my bedroom at night. I entered into a world of nightmares, a world in which my past life was trying to break out. Broken glass, overturned tables and other stuff was scattered around, creating a special kind of décor in my bedroom.

I continued to explore the castle. One stormy night in May, I reached my last area of exploration – the northern wing. I stood at the enormous open door and peered into the darkness. For a moment, a bolt of lightning illuminated ancient vaults, and echoing thunder reverberated through the castle. Again, the darkness surrounded me. I could barely even see the outlines. Noises and strange sounds were coming from all sides, and they made the blood in my veins run cold. I tried to concentrate. I knew that chandeliers hung on the walls, as there was no electricity in the castle. One minute, two, ten. Finally, hundreds of candles flared and disturbed the sleeping bats, who flew away screeching.

I was highly impressed with what I saw. At the end of a long, wide hallway there was a huge set of double doors with a family coat of arms carved into them. In one of the musty corners, I saw the whitened bones of a chained skeleton. Between the peeling columns stood statues of once beautiful ladies and gentlemen, covered with dried wax and keeping watch over centuries of history, along with the bats and other creatures that dwelled there. Antique candleholders were covered with dust and cobwebs. The webs were everywhere. They were hanging from the ceiling and covering the walls in fanciful shapes. Trying not to breathe in the acrid smell of old, burnt wax and desperately fighting the urge to run away, I went ahead. The sound of my footsteps echoed sharply in the sudden silence.

As I reached the end of the hallway, I looked back. There the lights were flickering, and nature was raging. But here, in this deathly silence, I heard only my jerky breathing. I thought I felt a presence, but I told myself not to think about it and pulled the dusty door handle. It was in the shape of a wolf’s head. The decayed door didn’t yield, and suddenly, I was no longer scared, I was curious. I took a few steps back, closed my eyes and focused all my energies on the door. The surrounding space was now filled with rustling sounds and I felt the rage of nature, but I paid no attention.

“Doors, open! Open the doors!”

I repeated that phrase as a spell. And they opened. For a few seconds, a blood-curdling squeal drowned out all other sounds. A gust of wind nearly knocked me off my feet and put out the candles. The howling wind became louder. Lightning lit up the room. A chill ran down my back and I spun around. Darkness surrounded me like velvet.