The sun-kissed Ariels' eyes early in the morning. He pushed the light rays away with his hands before a jolt struck him. Last night, he couldn't keep his mind off of the lightning.

The remnants of his dreams clung to his mind– dreams of hidden doors that lead to unknown realms where adventure awaits beyond the dreary four walls. Some dreams were a canvas of vibrant hues, others a somber landscape painted in ethereal colors.

The latter kind lingered–a body charred by a lightning strike amidst the forest lay waiting for him to discover. 

His heart fastened as he shoved the covers off of him. He couldn't wait.

Swiftly, dressing in the morning light with the family's colors; grey with a dash of gold, Ariel stepped out of his bedroom.

The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of cranberries simmering into a jam and the sizzle of bacon in a pan. Suddenly the soft music kicked on above, blocking out the creaks and crunches of the mansion. 

Ariel's stomach growled loudly. “Food does smell really good this morning,” he commented, despite his will screaming at him to run outside before breakfast. 

His feet twitched, poised between leaving to left where he could gently slip away from prying eyes and watchful eyes or he could embrace the breakfast spread.

Before he could even deliberate further, the creak of a nearby door stole his attention. Footsteps approached and he turned to find Marriot Halloway Jenkins who was an odd fellow that stood 4’4 with curly blonde hair, pale skin, and poisonous red eyes.

Typically he is within the Chamber of Red, sitting at the long mahogany desk scribbling against paper with a long feathered pen and ink. 

But today was different and Ariel felt it. He strode towards Ariel with a small pep, with his chest out and chin held high.

“There you are, boy!” Marriot stopped feet from him. “I was hoping you would be up by now.” he rubbed his sandy hands together, slightly touching his cracked lips with his pink tongue. “The Governess is ready to see you downstairs in the breakfast nook.” 

“Oh,” were the only words Ariel could say. He had forgotten about the huge problem that was in the mansion—the Governess.

Three days ago, an automobile that he had never seen before pulled up outside of the mansion's elongated steps. Out popped a woman who looked like all the others; rosy cheeks, pale skin, dark hair, tall, a straight figure with a simple name that slipped his mind. She was fairly young, in her mid-20s, and hailed from a prestigious family of scholars.