The following morning, Shawn was awakened by a knock on the door. He remained beneath the blanket, enjoying the warmth. The bed was comfortable, and the bedroom was warm. No headaches were trying to split his skull today. Compared to waking up on a freezing mattress inside a dungeon, this felt luxurious.
Another knock vibrated through the wood.
"Come in," Shawn called out.
The door swung open, and light, familiar footsteps entered the room. It was Ness. Over the past week, Shawn had learned to identify her movements. Her steps were lighter than those of the regular manor servants, carrying a slight, rhythmic bounce that made them easy to single out in the quiet house.
"Good morning," she said.
"It was a good morning until someone woke me up," Shawn replied.
Ness snorted. "You've been awake for several minutes already."
Shawn frowned into the darkness. "How do you know that?"
"Because you've been rolling around under the blankets."
Shawn stayed quiet. Children were terrifying.
For a moment, he tried to calculate his actual age. Counting the years he had lived across both of his lives, he was twenty-four. Theoretically, he was not a child.
"Father said you're allowed to move around the manor today," Ness continued, her voice bright.
Shawn sat straight up in bed, his grogginess vanishing. That news woke him up completely. "Really?"
"Really."
The confirmation came so quickly that suspicion settled in Shawn's gut. Morgan allowing a prisoner to wander around his property freely sounded like a farmer letting a chicken walk around the front yard. The chicken was free to move, right up until dinner time arrived. Still, he wasn't about to reject an opportunity to gather intelligence on his surroundings.
A few minutes later, after finishing breakfast, Shawn followed Ness out of his room. The moment his feet stepped into the corridor, he noticed a difference. The way his voice and breathing echoed changed instantly. The hallway was wider than his bedroom, and the sound of their footsteps traveled further before bouncing back. A current of cool, fresh air drifted across his face, telling him a window stood open nearby.
As they walked, the manor slowly revealed its layout through sound. Distant conversations drifted through the hallways, doors opened and closed in remote wings, and heavy footsteps crossed the floor directly above them. Somewhere nearby, a servant was pushing a heavy cart across the floorboards. The place felt alive, far more than the sterile dark of the dungeon.
"Careful," Ness suddenly spoke up, her hand darting out. "Step."
Shawn adjusted his stride and stepped over the obstacle without stumbling.
Ness paused in her tracks. "You already knew it was there?"
"The echo changed when we got close," Shawn explained.
"Oh."
They resumed walking, and a few moments later, she asked the question she had been holding back for days. "Have you always been blind?"
Shawn nearly laughed. There it was. "That's a pretty rude question to ask someone."
"Sorry," Ness muttered.
A brief silence followed as they turned a corner, but her curiosity was too strong to contain. "So... have you?"
Shawn let out a soft sigh. "No."
"Oh." The answer seemed to satisfy her for the moment, at least until the next wave of questions arrived. "Does being blind hurt?"
"No."
"Can you see anything at all?"
"No."
"What about shadows?"
"No."
"Colors?"
"No."
"Light?"
"No," Shawn said, his voice level.
Ness fell silent. After a long pause, she muttered quietly, "That sounds awful."
Shawn couldn't even bring himself to disagree with her.
As they continued their walk, he focused entirely on forming a mental picture of the manor. One corridor carried the rich smell of fresh bread and roasted meat. The kitchen, he noted, mapping it down. Another area smelled strongly of blooming flowers, meaning a courtyard or a garden was located right behind the adjacent wall. Some hallways were busy with foot traffic, while others were completely silent.
The manor was taking a definite shape inside his mind. It wasn't a visual map, but a spatial one, a collection of distinct sounds and smells connected by long hallways and winding staircases. His engineering brain began memorizing every detail. He logged a staircase near the east wing, a narrow side corridor that seemed to lead directly outdoors, and a large set of double doors near the center of the building. It was useful information. He wasn't planning an escape attempt just yet, but it paid to be prepared.
Suddenly, the sound of splashing water reached his ears. Shawn tilted his head toward the vibration. "A fountain?"
"Mhm," Ness confirmed.
He listened to the rush of the water. The sound was substantial, meaning the fountain wasn't a small decoration. "What's it look like?"
There was a brief pause, and then Ness answered with pride in her voice. "It's Father."
Shawn nearly missed his footing entirely. "What?"
"The statue," she clarified. "It's Father."
More silence followed. Shawn rubbed his forehead, trying to process the sheer ego involved. "Is it a normal-sized statue?"
"No."
"Of course it isn't."
"It's really big," Ness added happily.
"Of course it is."
Ness giggled at his tone. "Father said people should always have something beautiful to look at while they relax in the courtyard."
The answer made perfect sense in a twisted way. It was exactly what a man like Morgan would do. Building a giant fountain dedicated entirely to his own image meant the man's ego required its own personal water supply to function.
They continued onward, leaving the courtyard behind, and eventually the atmosphere changed again. The ambient sounds grew quieter, and even the regular servants seemed to actively avoid this section of the house.
"What is this place?" Shawn asked, noticing how the sound of their footsteps felt muffled.
"The library," Ness whispered.
Shawn stopped in his tracks. The library. The word alone carried weight. "Is it big?"
"Huge."
"How huge exactly?"
Ness thought for a second. "Three floors."
Shawn felt a sharp pain right in his chest. Three floors of books. Thousands of unique stories, historical records, and pieces of knowledge were sitting right past that doorway, and he couldn't read a single line of text. It was cruel. He almost wanted to look up and complain directly to fate. First, he gets slapped with total blindness, and now he is forced to walk past a vault of information he can't access. What was next on the list? A bakery designed specifically for someone allergic to bread?
Ness seemed to notice how stiff he had become. "Would you like to go inside and look around?"
Shawn hesitated, the temptation pulling at him. Then, he shook his head. "No," he said softly. There was no point in torturing himself, at least not yet.
They continued their walk through the quiet wing. As they passed by an intersecting hallway, Shawn caught the low murmurs of two servants talking quietly.
"...heard the master is preparing....."
The conversation abruptly cut off the moment their footsteps drew near, and the servants hurried away down the stairs. This wasn't the first time Shawn had noticed the household staff acting this way. The servants became nervous whenever Morgan's name came up. The man ruled this property absolutely, and his name alone was enough to silence people.
A few minutes later, they approached another narrow corridor. Shawn was about to continue walking forward when a small hand grabbed his sleeve. He froze. It was the first time Ness had touched him all day.
"Not that way," she said, her voice quick and nervous.
Shawn's ears twitched at the sudden shift. "Why?"
"We aren't allowed over there," she answered instantly, the response sounding rehearsed.
Shawn tilted his head, listening intently to the restricted hallway. It sounded normal. There were no strange noises or guard postings. Yet Ness clearly wanted to leave the area immediately.
He considered pressing her with another question, then decided against it. If she wanted to tell him, she would have done so. Pushing her would only make her cautious around him in the future.
"Alright," Shawn said.
Ness let out a sigh of relief. "Come on, let's go back."
She changed direction, and Shawn followed her pace. Inside his head, he logged the exact position of that forbidden hallway. It was just another piece of data, another detail worth remembering for later.
By the time they returned to his bedroom, Shawn's feet ached from the distance. The manor was larger than he had imagined. Yet, for the first time since waking up, he felt something close to freedom. It wasn't true freedom, but it proved a world still existed beyond four stone walls.
The bedroom door closed and the lock clicked into place. Shawn sat down on the edge of the bed. A faint smile appeared on his face. The layout of the manor was beginning to make sense, and sooner or later, he would figure out Morgan's game too.