The faint glow of dawn spilled through the heavy curtains of Alaric's room, but he remained deep in slumber, the weight of the previous day's events pulling him into an uncharacteristically heavy sleep. The sound of a firm knock echoed against his door, breaking the silence.
"Master Alaric," Gilbert's composed voice called through the wood. "Your grandmother requests your presence in the basement. She has instructed me to inform you that your preparation is required for a ritual. Please get ready and come promptly."
Alaric stirred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Still groggy, he called back, "I'll be down in a moment."
Gilbert replied with a simple, "Very good, Master," before his footsteps receded down the corridor.
