Nathan sat at a desk in his bedroom. the room was one of the smaller ones on the first floor, a cramped little space sitting at the southwest corner of the rambling old house. Was upon a time it would have been a servant's quarters, or so nathan had been told by his father growing up. That was why it was the room he'd always been assigned to. Nathan had been too young and naive to get the nasty implications of his father's cutting humor when he'd first been given the room- he remembered being enchanted by having any space of his own, back then. he'd always lived in the rooms of others, first his parents, then his sister. his presence was something to be tolerated in those situations, an intrusion on his fellow family members. Now, he finally had a spot to call his own. because of that lasting first impression, his father's various barbs over the years regarding giving Nathan the servant's room had never stung as deeply as they should have. even after his father's passing, the thought of taking over the master bedroom had never occurred to nathan. even with the man dead, such a move would feel like little nathan bothering the adults once again. his only alteration in living habits had been to have grimwald move the massive old rolltop desk from his father's room into his own. He didn't particularly like the thing- in his small place with it's odd angles, it jutted out like a monstrous sore, an entity slowly expanding, eating away at nathan's room as it grew. but just like the rusty key that hung around his neck at all times, the desk was a symbol of the office of the lord of nevermore house. it lacked the magic properties of the key, the ability to keep the second floor inhabitants in line. it wasn't mystical in any possible sense. it was a plain, simple, unornamented desk, common enough at the time of it's creation, a vintage antique now. during his grandfather's time, it had been a home for various scrolls and spellbooks and dark, arcane objects. During his father's time, it had been home to neat stacks of paper, bills and invoices and payment slips. Since being transplanted to nathan's corner of the house, it had become a gathering place for change, scraps of paper, and various other bits of debris from his life. Over the years it had morphed into a tremendous pile, with hastily scribbled notes and sketches sticking out wildly in every direction. He never used it for any purpose other than a place to gather miscellaneous objects. actually sitting at the desk now, for the first time in his life, he felt out of place. he felt like a child again despite his age. his bit his lip in frustration.

"GRIMWALD!" he yelled hoarsely. He started tapping on one of the few uncovered pieces of desk in front of him.