Zella PI

Far downhill from the creek and the stone bridge—a single lonesome cabin sat on the water’s edge of Hailview Lake, the home of paranormal investigator and online influencer, Zariah.

Known online as Zella PI—which stood for Zella, Paranormal Investigator—Zariah lived a rather interesting life of researching, investigating, documenting, and speculating on all things supernatural in the world. She often hosted livestreams, guest-starred in online debates, and categorized everything she knew on her website, zellapi.com . She was well-known on the internet, and her influencer persona was her career—but the subject matter itself was her passion.

On this day—she sat in her room in front of her gigantic gaming PC, a computer with two screens and LED lights shining from the tower. The rest of her bedroom was dimly-lit and decorated with colorful neon lights as well, her walls covered with posters of several supernatural shows and movies, and she was leaned back in her black leather chair now, her black headset with the bright streamlined blue along the sides placed atop her head, her short black hair combed mostly out of her face, though the signature white streak in her bangs remained in plain view, just able to drape over one of her crystal blue eyes. She wore a big silver cross around her neck, left to dangle above her tight black tank top, a spiked bracelet on either of her wrists, and her eye makeup dark, shadowy, and Goth. The microphone of her headset was flipped down, hovering just beside her mouth as she spoke with the person debating her online. She was currently hosting a livestream again, and she was welcoming guests to debate her on whatever supernatural topics they wanted.

As of right now—she was speaking with a young husky man called Jacob Turner, and his webcam feed was displayed on the left side of her stream, her own camera feed visible on the right. Her secondary computer screen displayed her chatroom for her, ensuring she wouldn’t miss anyone’s comments, and she periodically glanced at it while they talked.

“See—but here’s what I don’t get about the list of classes on your website,” Jacob was saying. “You have a list of all the supposedly supernatural classes that exist in the world—Holy, Demon, Psychic, Vampire, Werewolf—but you also openly admit that a lot of cases of vampirism in history just turned out to be people dying of fading diseases. So what’s the deal on vampires? Do you think they’re real or not?”

“Yeah. Both things can be true at the same time,” Zariah replied swiftly. “The historical idea of a vampire was more of a shadowy entity that supposedly showed up at night and drained the life out of you. A lot of that was just people fading off from consumption, which everyone later learned was tuberculosis. That’s absolutely true. But here’s the thing.”

She straightened up in her seat and leaned closer, taking a hit of her vape before speaking on.

“Those cases don’t disprove vampires—they just make it harder to determine which cases were the real deal and which ones weren’t,” Zariah said knowingly. “Like—some things can be explained away with science now. When they dug up the bodies of suspected vampires and found blood around the mouth—that happens with decomposition, and that’s totally explainable. But when a bunch of villagers in Croatia saw the recently-deceased Jure Grando Alilović showing up at their houses at night, and then everyone he visited mysteriously ended up dying for no reason—that’s not so explainable. You see what I’m saying? Some of these stories have a clear explanation, and some of them just don’t.”

“Okay… but what about garlic, and crosses, and all that?” Jacob queried. “Where did all that lore about vampires’ weaknesses come from? Is there any truth to it…?”

“Well…” Zariah shrugged and nodded sideways. “Garlic has a lot of medicinal properties, and villagers used to think it could help fend off evil spirits, too. Then, later on, when people started writing fiction stories about vampires… they just kinda took the garlic idea and amplified it. But… no. I don’t think there’s any actual truth to that. People just thought that vampires were demons, so they used crosses and their best medicinal herbs to try and fight the demons away.”

Jacob made an odd face at his camera. “So… if vampires are real… then they’re not demonic?”

“Nope,” Zariah said simply. “They’re just a sister species to humanity. That’s why they’re in a totally different class than demons. They’re not the same at all.”

“Gotcha. Okay… I do have one more question before you go to the next person,” Jacob said, raising a finger.

“Go for it,” Zariah replied with a nod.

“The whole list of classes,” Jacob said seriously, raising his eyebrows and giving his camera an intense look. “Where did you get that from? How do you know it’s true?”

Zariah fell momentarily silent, glimpsing down and absentmindedly fidgeting with the large cross around her neck.

“I read it in a really old book that my mother gave me before she passed away,” she told him honestly. “And when I started piecing it together with the other bits of research I did… it all just clicked together and made perfect sense to me.”

Jacob made a slow, understanding nod, then leaned back in his chair and gave her a two-fingered salute. “Very interesting. Well… I enjoyed talking to you, Zella.”

“You too,” Zariah smiled politely. “Seeya around. Mmm… who’s next? Ahh, let’s see…”

Jacob disconnected from Zariah’s current Discord call, and then, she clicked over to her own Discord app and searched the list of people who were waiting in her server’s voice chat, squinting at the person at the top.

“Linda Blankenship,” Zariah said, right-clicking Linda’s icon and inviting her to the private call. “You’re next. You can turn your camera on or just go audio only… either one works.”

Linda accepted the invite—and the left half of the livestream showed her webcam feed. She was a middle-aged blonde woman, sitting in a bright, spotless bedroom.

Zariah exchanged polite smiles and pleasantries with Linda before they got started.

“I just wanted to ask you about… um… I don’t really understand what the Holy Class actually is,” Linda said, combing her long hairs aside. “I don’t see any mention of it in the Bible, and I’ve never heard of it anywhere else before, so… what exactly are the people of the Holy Class? Are they angels, or Nephilim, or… what…?”

“Um… well, no, they’re not angels or Nephilim,” Zariah answered. “And… it is kind of referenced in the Bible, it’s just not actually called the Holy Class in the Bible. People like Moses would’ve been considered part of the Holy Class, because he had an extra powerful connection with God and he was able to part the Red Sea. It’s… it’s basically just people who are extremely connected to God, and they have special abilities because of it. It could be almost anything, too. Controlling nature, healing the sick, even being psychic… which is why I always thought the Holy Class and the Psychic Class intersect in a lot of places.”

“Ohhh,” Linda breathed, nodding with understanding. “Oh, okay, I thought it was like the opposite of Demon Class… like they’d be angels or something…”

“Nah… all the classes are just people… all except that one,” Zariah told her seriously. “Demon Class is the only one that’s inherently evil… because it’s the only one that isn’t made of actual people with actual souls.”

Linda nodded and responded, but Zariah didn’t hear all of it; her phone was sitting on the edge of her desk, and it vibrated for the fifth time in ten minutes, making her glare at it and swallow an agitated groan.

Her ex-boyfriend was blowing up her messages yet again, and it was beginning to get on her nerves.

“Oh, could I ask you one more thing?” Linda wondered.

“Yeah, go for it,” Zariah agreed, tearing her eyes from her phone and giving her a smile.

“How come you live in a beach town in South Carolina?” Linda questioned. “I would think you’d live in Appalachia or Salem or something… like… some place you’d expect something supernatural to happen. Why there instead?”

Zariah opened her mouth, but she paused for a second, leaning farther back in her chair again and glancing over at her bedroom wall, directly to her left, where a big, dark poster hung, depicting a wild, rebellious rock star with a black trench coat, dark eye makeup, long black hair, and several spikes and chains on his person—Villy the Vampire.

She gazed into the poster for a second, then faced her computer again, sighing and shrugging.

“There’s just… there’s something here that I’m curious about,” Zariah said vaguely. “I talked my dad into moving us here a long time ago so I could look into it, if I ever wanted to… but… that’s not really something I wanna talk about online. That’s just a personal curiosity that I may or may not ever get to dive into. Basically—”

Suddenly—the Discord app on her computer went blank and showed a loading screen, and her livestreaming software plummeted down to zero kbps. The livestream had gone offline, and the chatroom was struggling to connect.

“What…?” Zariah breathed, leaning closer and checking her computer’s WiFi icon, which now showed that she was disconnected. “Oh… come on , you piece of… Dad! ”

She peeled her headset off and leaped up from her chair, marching past her desk and walking out of her room. To her right was the hallway leading to the den, and to the left was a bathroom—but she strode past them both and emerged in an empty living room, the couch, recliner, and TV all to her right, the TV off, and the furniture unoccupied. To her left was the kitchen, with an empty sink and a spotless bar counter, but it too was uninhabited.

Scoffing, she stormed over to the window and peeked out to the car port at the end of her driveway. Her small silver Eclipse sat parked in its usual spot, but her father’s old Chevy was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuckin’a,” Zariah sighed angrily, pulling out her phone and rapidly typing a text, asking her father if he had remembered to pay their internet bill. “Dammit… man… I was in the middle of something here…”

She went to the router in the window and reset it, and then, she waited for ten minutes or so before checking her computer, seeing that everything was still offline. So, she paced around the house and typed rapidly on her phone, posting a message to all of her followers and explaining that her stream for the day would have to be cut short due to unexpected internet problems.

She felt aggravated, not angry at her father, but simply annoyed at the whole inconvenience. She knew her father had some fairly busy days, and this wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten to send their combined funds off to the proper places for the month, as his time and his thoughts were both sometimes stretched thin—but her livestreaming was her way of making money and paying bills, and she needed the internet to do so.

And even beyond that—ever since her boyfriend became her ex—she felt incredibly lonely here, and livestreaming was a way of becoming social again. It was therapeutic for her, and she wished she could have continued it for longer today.

After a while of pacing and pouting, she finally shook the negative thoughts away, resolving that she could simply make up for the lost livestream another time, and she didn’t need the internet to feel better. She decided to put her earphones in, play some music on her phone, and walk out of the house, zoning out to her thoughts and enjoying the fresh, clean air on this late-summer’s day.

Zariah walked off her porch, strode across the gravel driveway, and headed up the hill, directly toward the giant tree, where she often liked to sit and listen to music. It was her favorite spot to relax and contemplate—and, she was just able to see the mysterious Voltaire Manor from there, a sight that always sent her mind on a tangent.

After all—with every deep-dive she’d ever done on people whom she suspected to belong to a supernatural class—Villy V was one she felt almost certain about, one that had all the tell-tale red flag rumors surrounding him all the way back to the 1970s and 80s in Birmingham. With everything she had ever researched about the retired rock star, she was nearly positive that he was a secret vampire, hiding in retirement in that ominous mansion home of his—and she enjoyed sitting beneath the big tree, gazing out at it with wonder.

It always left her intensely curious; she never saw anyone coming or going from that place, even though Villy V and his family—as far as anyone in the world knew—were all alive and well inside their family home.

Zariah sighed and sauntered beneath the big tree, orange leaves just beginning to flutter down from its branches, and she meandered over the large, lumpy roots, gazing down at the spot in between them where she usually sat down to relax.

Then, just when she turned around and prepared to sit—she froze still there, staring out at the stone bridge across from her and spotting something peculiar.

A figure was lying on the path, seemingly asleep, sprawled on his side with his long black hairs lying over his face, his eyes shut, and his face paler than ever.

Zariah swallowed, staring at the figure for a second longer until she was certain her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. She then shook her head once, feeling both shocked and perplexed; she’d never seen anyone else even use that old bridge before, much less fall asleep or collapse on it.

“Ohhh… crap,” she breathed, stepping warily toward him and gulping again, her heart beginning to pound. “Oh, dude, please don’t be dead…”

Zariah removed her earphones, walked onto the bridge, and lowered to her knee, grasping the stranger’s arm and giving him a shake.

“Hey,” she said, leaning down and speaking clearer. “Hey… dude… y’okay? Hello?”

Michael barely felt or heard her at first, his eyes attempting to drift open, though he was utterly drained and fatigued.

Zariah swiped a few of his hairs from his face, hunching slightly nearer and examining him more closely.

Michael just managed to open his eyes, his dazed stare wandering up to her, seeing… blue eyes, shining with concern, and black hair with a streak of white… dangling cross, glimmering in the sun…

“Are you okay?” Zariah asked, frowning and feeling worried for the stranger.

Michael fought to say or do anything, his fingers twitching, and his mouth easing open.

“Shade,” he croaked in a weak, raspy breath.

Zariah took slightly back, glimpsing over at the shade beneath the big tree, then gazing down at him again. It was hot out today; she wasn’t sure if it was hot enough for anyone to be suffering from any type of heat stroke, but that was the only thing that made sense to her. If he needed shade, then the sun bearing down on him must’ve been doing a hell of a number on him somehow.

“Okay… okay, hang on a sec,” Zariah said, positioning herself behind him and reaching under his arms, gently grasping hold of him. “Hang on…”

She lifted with her legs and pulled carefully back—and she dragged him off of the bridge, sliding him onto the grass and taking him over to the shady patch beneath the big tree.

Then, she gingerly positioned him in the cozy spot between the lumpy roots, the spot where she usually sat, his head slumping back against the tree.

Zariah sat beside him, folding her arms atop the root and leaning close, surveying him intently.

Michael lay sitting crookedly upright against the tree for a long, quiet moment, the feeling of being cooked within his skin now thankfully and wonderfully fading away from him, a heavy blanket of shade enshrouding him with comfort now. He blinked a few times, his eyes opening more, and he glanced over at the girl beside him, feeling an immense rush of gratitude towards her.

“Thank you,” he said in a soft, broken voice, one of utmost warmth and sincerity.

Zariah smirked at him. “Don’t worry about it. Are you okay now? Kind of…?”

Michael hesitated, gazing up at the leaves and branches, feeling more at peace than ever all of a sudden, the shade around him feeling like an impenetrable sanctuary.

“ Much better now,” he exhaled.

Zariah nodded, and for a moment, they were both quiet.

Then, Michael rolled his head slightly to the side, gazing into her and flashing a meek half-smile.

“You’re the third person I met today,” he murmured quietly. “And you’re my favorite…”

Zariah stared, her brows raising, and she breathed out a laugh.

“Okay,” she snickered. “Cool.”

There was another pause.

“So, what… what happened to you?” Zariah wondered, squinting thoughtfully at his pale visage. “Do you have like… a pigmentation disorder, or something? Like… something that makes you extra sensitive to sunlight?”

Michael stared straight ahead, trying to respond, but he couldn’t think of a way to explain it. His parents and his butler had always made it very clear to him that the supernatural nature of their family should always be kept a secret from everyone in the outside world, and he never really questioned why—but now, he also suspected that telling outsiders the truth might just sound like simple lunacy to them.

“Kind of… yeah,” he answered shortly. “I just… I haven’t been outside in a long time…”

Zariah made a few mild nods, turning her head and gazing up the expansive hillside, past the creek and the stone bridge—and her eyes landed on the distant, elegant mansion building that was Voltaire Manor.

She glared at it, then turned and eyed Michael with intrigue.

“Where did you come from?” Zariah inquired. “I’ve never seen anyone else use that old bridge before. I’m usually the only one who ever comes over here.”

Michael was silent for a long, somber moment, sighing heavily and still staring absentmindedly out at the scenery. Then, he gently began to shake his head.

“I just needed to go out and find my brother,” he groaned with tired disdain. “And if he’s still gone when my sister wakes up… then she’s gonna think she can run off, too. He’s setting a bad example for her again. I wish he’d just…”

He sighed stressfully, raising his hands and massaging his eyes and his temples.

Zariah observed him, feeling a deep curiosity beginning to gnaw at her more with every passing second; if this person had come from that mysterious manor, a place that she’d been curious about for years, then this was her opportunity to finally learn more about the place, and about the family of the old rock star who she suspected was a vampire.

But, the longer she stared at him, the more her empathy began winning the inner war with her curiosity. She read the distressed and dismayed look on his face, and she grimaced, feeling a gentle tug on her heartstrings.

“Hey,” she said, gently patting the side of his arm. “What’s your name…?”

Michael faced her again, glad to snap away from his thoughts, and he gave her another smile.

“I’m Michael,” he said, politely offering his hand.

“I’m Zariah,” she replied, returning the handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Michael replied genuinely. “Really, really nice to meet you…”

He lowered his hand and stared down at his lap for a second, then sighed again.

“Sorry,” Michael added. “I didn’t mean that to sound weird, I just… I am so lost out here… and I really am glad I met you, because it felt like I was gonna die over there. I’m just not very good at this…”

“Not good at what?” Zariah asked.

“Just…” Michael stammered, motioning loosely between her and himself. “Meeting… people… and talking to them. I don’t really know how to…”

“Oh… you’re doing fine,” Zariah chuckled. “Hell, you’re doing better than half the people I went to school with. Don’t worry about it.”

Michael let out a laugh. “Well, that makes me feel better…”

“Good,” Zariah smirked. “So… um… you said you were out looking for your brother…?”

Michael’s smile faded, and he began rubbing his temples again. “Yeah… yeah, he ran off a few weeks ago, I think… and I met this guy in the town who said… he was getting involved with something bad. I don’t know what , exactly… but… he’s associating with people that the police are investigating, so… it’s not good, whatever it is. Oh, God… I have to find him and get him home before something bad happens. I can’t go home before I find him, either, because my parents might try to forbid me from leaving again… and I can’t have that… not before I get Zander home…”

Zariah nodded along quietly, biting her lip and pausing for a second to think.

“Well, your… your parents can’t just… keep you,” she remarked. “You’re an adult… right? You should be able to just… come and go whenever you want.”

Michael released a heavy cloud of breath. “It’s complicated in my family…”

Zariah made a quizzical face, glimpsing across the scenery at the distant manor again.

“The Voltaire family?” she dared to ask.

Michael stopped, staring straight ahead, falling suddenly expressionless. Then, he turned his head and stared at her, a strange, eerie look of suspicious dread appearing on his face.

“How do you know that?” he breathed.

“Well… that’s… that’s where you came from, isn’t it?” Zariah inquired, pointing up the vast hillside toward the manor. “I can’t think of anywhere else you would’ve come from, since it’s the only other house around here for at least a couple miles… and that’s where the Voltaire family lives, so… I just kinda figured…”

Michael’s mouth drifted agape, shaking his head once and feeling flabbergasted. He had no idea that anyone in the outside world was aware of them at all; the way his parents always talked, it sounded as if they had been in total hiding from the rest of the world all this time.

“How did… how did you know we lived here?” he stuttered.

“Because… Orville Voltaire was a pretty famous guy, and his last known place of residence is Voltaire Manor, right there,” Zariah explained, gesturing up at the mansion once more.

Michael stared, speechless and feeling his heart throbbing behind his ribs. He’d always known that his father was once a musician, but he never imagined that his dad was so famous that even a random stranger down the hillside would know and recognize precisely who he was.

“What else do you know about us?” Michael muttered.

“Ah… well, not a lot,” Zariah shrugged and laughed. “There’s not a lot of information about the Voltaires online after the mid-80s. They just moved to America and kinda disappeared off the face of the planet. All anybody really knows is that Orville Voltaire is retired… he had three kids… and nobody knows what their names are, or where they went to school, or… really anything about them. The Voltaires kept their kids and their family life pretty secret from the world.”

Michael swallowed roughly, looking down and nodding.

“Yeah. Sure did,” he breathed, then looked to her again. “Do you know… why?”

Zariah blinked. “Why they kept their family life so private? Well… nobody really knows for sure… but I can imagine why. Part of it was probably just them wanting to keep their kids from being harassed by obsessive Villy V fans… and another part of it might’ve been… something crazy.”

She trailed off, letting out a breath and reading the look of frightful anticipation strewn across his face.

“Hey… look… listen,” Zariah said, her tone softening in a light, comforting way, gently placing a hand on his arm. “I’m not trying to freak you out, I just… I’m kind of a paranormal investigator, so… I just know about some of those… things.”

Michael gave her a long, intense stare, his brow hardening, and his eyes narrowing slightly, studying her as if he’d never seen anything quite like her before.

“Things like what?” he breathed.

Zariah sighed and made a sideways nod. “Well… things like… why your family kept everything private. It’s just a suspicion I’ve always had about Villy V… but, judging by how you’re reacting now… well… I bet I’m right. Or… at least on the right track.”

“Right about what…?” Michael uttered anxiously.

“Well… I always thought… Villy V might be a vampire,” Zariah told him truthfully.

Michael took in a deep, shaky breath, turning away and staring into the grass with a sense of fear gnawing at the back of his every thought now.

This day was so strange, unsettling, and intense to him already—and now, here was this strange new girl, speaking to him about his family’s deepest and most closely-guarded secrets as if they were common knowledge among everybody in the outside world. His mother always said that it would be incredibly dangerous for anyone outside of their home to discover the true nature of their family; it was the type of information to spark fear and start wars, she’d say.

Zariah examined him once more, feeling another surge of empathy and frowning at him.

“Hey… I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I’m really not trying to scare you…”

Michael let out another trembling breath, facing her and wearing a grimace.

“How many other people know the truth about my father?” he asked grimly.

Zariah gave him an odd look. “What? Oh… nobody. I did a lot of digging and pieced it together by myself, but I never knew for sure if I was right or not… and nobody else in the world really even believes in vampires.”

Michael stared for a second longer—and then, he let out a massively relieved breath, placing a hand on his heart and feeling as if a great weight had suddenly been lifted off him.

“H’oh my God… thank Christ,” he exhaled, turning and raising his eyebrows at her. “Okay… please… please don’t tell anyone… okay?”

“I won’t,” Zariah promised. “But it wouldn’t even matter if I did, honestly. Most people wouldn’t believe me.”

“Okay, good, good…” Michael sighed and sank a little deeper into the tree, resting his head back against it and closing his eyes. “Oh my God… I really thought we were in serious trouble for a second there…”

Zariah surveyed him. “Why…?”

“Well… just… because,” Michael mumbled with a shrug. “My mother always said people would kill us if they knew…”

Zariah hesitated for a second, glimpsing down and shrugging.

“Maybe they would’ve a hundred years ago,” she remarked. “But that’s not really how things are anymore.”

Michael fell silent, and neither of them spoke for a second.

“So… you’re Villy V’s son? ” Zariah asked with a smirk.

Michael faced her and nodded. “Yeah…”

“Wow. I know the son of a rock star,” Zariah laughed. “That is badass, my friend.”

Michael managed a smirk, feeling a bit more at ease now.

Then, as he stared into her for a moment longer, his mind began to wander to many other things—finding his brother, getting him out of whatever trouble he was in, and most importantly, knowing for certain that he was in slightly over his own head now. After all—he knew nothing about the modern world, and he felt certain that he needed help navigating it in order to get Zander back home.

“Would you…” Michael started, sighing and glancing away for a second, finding it difficult to ask. “Would you mind helping me to find my brother…?”

Zariah’s brows raised, and she offered him another comforting smile. “No, I wouldn’t mind. I’d be happy to. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I might,” Michael replied. “I have a place to go check, but I can’t go there until after four, so…”

“Oooh… so you need somewhere to hang out until then,” Zariah synopsized, glancing up at the sun beyond the shade line. “I getcha. Well… hey, look here.”

She leaned over and turned around, pointing down the hillside behind the tree, where Hailview Lake resided.

Michael leaned closer and peeked over her shoulder, following her trail of vision down the hill and spotting the lakeside and the cabin alongside it.

“That’s my place,” Zariah told him. “You can hang out with me there until it’s time to go… and I can go with you too, if you want… but there’s like thirty feet of direct sunlight between here and there. You think you can walk through thirty feet of sunlight right now?”

“Ah… I… think so,” Michael mumbled uncertainly, blinking and nodding. “I went a lot farther than that earlier, I just… I guess I just stayed in it for too long…”

“Okay… then let’s go,” Zariah disclosed, standing and offering her hand.

Michael glanced up at her, planting a hand to the tree and using his other one to clasp hold of hers. She yanked him upright, and he staggered to his feet and sighed, pausing for a second and waiting for a rush of dizziness to overcome him again, but no wave of wooziness came over him. He felt surprisingly recharged now.

Once he was fully on his feet, Zariah paused and gave him a somewhat perplexed look, noticing that he was nearly a head taller than her. She stared, gazing up at his face and choking out a breathless little snicker.

“Holy crap , you’re tall,” she giggled. “Wow, I feel tiny now.”

Michael let out a laugh.

Zariah moved nearer to the edge of the shade, turning back to him and beckoning him to join her.

“Ready?” she asked.

Michael swallowed, nodding and approaching her.

Zariah took him by the hand, faced the path to her house, and stepped into the sunlight, gently pulling him along behind her.

The moment he emerged in the sunlight again, Michael huffed out a breath and felt a spark of dread inside, but he marched down the hill with her, squinting through the bright light and feeling no dizziness or fatigue. He only felt the heat, as it was starting to beat down on him rather hard again.

But just when it began to feel uncomfortable to him—they both stepped under the shade of the front porch, marching beneath its rickety metal roof and escaping the sunlight.

Michael let out a breath when they reached the shade, and Zariah stopped at the front door, pulling the screen door open before grabbing the doorknob of the proper one.

She turned back to him, smirked, and nodded sideways at the door before pushing it open and stepping inside.

Michael’s mouth curled into a faint, contented smile before following her into the house, feeling far more at ease than he had earlier today.

With everything he had to deal with now, it was incredibly comforting to have made a brand new friend, someone who seemingly didn’t mind to help him traverse and understand the vast, confusing world beyond Voltaire Manor.