Aiden sat back, his mind spinning. His grandfather had planned all of this for him—for his future. It was all meant for him. He did wonder one thing though.

Why me? Why not my mom?

His grandfather had seen something in him, even on the day he was born. Something Aiden hadn’t yet found in himself.

He closed the journal slowly, his heart heavy with the weight of his grandfather’s words. There was so much he didn’t understand yet, but one thing was clear—this wasn’t just an inheritance of material things. It was something far deeper, far more important.

Aiden looked down at Charlie, who was curled up at his feet, blissfully unaware of the world that was unfolding around him. He reached down and scratched behind the dog’s ears, the simple comfort grounding him.

“Looks like there really is more to all of this than I thought,” Aiden muttered to himself.

So, there was one thing his heart was practically yelling at him to do. So before he could change his mind, he picked up the phone and dialed the number.

“Hey, Mom,” Aiden said, trying to sound casual. “It’s me.”

“Aiden! It’s so good to hear from you,” she replied, sounding genuinely surprised. “How’s the house? Are you settling in alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good. Just... getting used to it, I guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. There was a pause, and he could feel the weight of the question he was about to ask hanging in the air.

“I’ve, uh, been going through some of Grandpa’s old things,” he started slowly, unsure of how to phrase it. “Did he ever... you know... talk about weird stuff with you? I mean, things that didn’t make much sense at the time?”

His mother laughed softly. “Your grandfather? Oh, he was weird, alright. But he was also one of the wisest people I’ve ever known. If I ever had a problem, he could solve it in a minute.” She paused, the fondness clear in her voice. “I remember once, when I was overwhelmed with work and struggling with you when you were little, he just listened quietly, then said, ‘Why not cut your day in half? Solve what you can now and leave the rest for tomorrow.’ And as simple as it was, it worked. He had a way of seeing things clearly when I couldn’t.”

Aiden smiled at that, though it didn’t completely answer what he was searching for. He hesitated before asking the next question, unsure of how she would react.

“Yeah, that sounds like him... But did he ever talk about anything... I don’t know... crazy? Like magic or supernatural stuff?”

There was a brief silence on the line. “Magic? Supernatural?” His mother’s voice held a trace of amusement. “Well, sometimes he’d ask me something normal, like about the garden or the weather, and when I’d give him a straightforward answer, he’d just shake his head and say, ‘You have no imagination.’ It used to drive me nuts!” She laughed lightly, but it was the next part that made Aiden’s breath catch.

“When you were born, though... Oh, Aiden, he was so happy. He used to say, ‘Finally, someone in this family with magic in his eyes.’ I thought it was just one of his quirky sayings, you know, but he always meant it.”

Aiden sat there, her words washing over him. Magic in his eyes. His grandfather had always seen something in him, something special, but Aiden had never really understood it. It felt both comforting and unsettling, as if his grandfather had been seeing a future that Aiden still couldn’t quite grasp.

His mother’s voice softened. “You did always have a great imagination, Aiden. Even when you were little, you’d tell stories and get lost in your own worlds. Your grandfather loved that about you. He used to say you were destined for something bigger.”

A long pause stretched between them, the weight of the conversation lingering. Neither of them spoke for a moment, as if there was more they both wanted to say but didn’t know how.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Then, in a voice that was quieter, more hesitant, his mother added, “I’m... sorry, Aiden. About the divorce. I know it wasn’t easy for you, and I know we’ve never really talked about it. But I’m sorry.”

Aiden felt the familiar tightness in his chest return. He wasn’t sure what to say at first. He had spent years burying the feelings, not wanting to blame her, not wanting to bring it up. But now, with her voice on the line, it felt like something was opening up between them.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “Really, it’s okay.”

There was a beat of silence, and then he hesitated, the words on the tip of his tongue. It felt like a leap he wasn’t ready to take, but before he could stop himself, he said, “I... I love you.”

For a moment, the line was silent, and then he heard her voice, quieter than before and tinged with emotion. “I love you too, Aiden.”

Aiden swallowed, blinking back the sting in his eyes. He sat there for a moment longer, the words hanging in the air between them like a bridge he hadn’t realized he needed to cross.

After they said their goodbyes and he hung up, he sat back and exhaled deeply, feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. Charlie nudged his hand, and Aiden scratched behind the dog’s ears, letting the simple, grounding comfort of the moment wash over him.

Aiden sat there for a long while, the call with his mother still fresh in his mind. It hadn’t solved everything between them, but it felt like a start—a bridge that had needed to be built for years. He leaned back in the chair, his eyes drifting to Charlie, who sat at his feet, tail wagging softly. The dog's presence was comforting, a simple reminder that he wasn’t entirely alone in this strange, transitional time of his life.

After a moment, Aiden reached for his grandfather’s journal again. He hesitated, fingers hovering over the worn leather cover before opening it to a random page, hoping for some clarity—or maybe just something to distract him from the swirl of emotions left by the conversation.

The journal opened to a date etched into Aiden’s memory: the day his mother had left him at his grandfather’s house, right after the divorce.

August 12, 2006

Today, Aiden came to live with me. My daughter drove away with tears she tried to hide, and it broke my heart to see her go. I could feel the weight she carried. It’s a feeling I know all too well—making decisions you think are right but leave scars that never quite heal. And now, Aiden is here, silent and uncertain, his eyes wide with too much understanding for a boy his age.

I’ve watched him closely today, and I can see the hurt that lingers beneath the surface. His world has been torn apart, and he’s looking for something steady, something to hold onto. I wish I could give him all the answers, that I could shield him from the pain life has already handed him. But I know that all I can do now is be here for him, to give him a place to feel safe.

Over the years, I’ve devoted myself to the Castle of Wisdom and the secrets it holds. That place—my library—is more than just a collection of books. It’s a gateway, a portal that connects this world to another. It holds power and knowledge beyond anything most people could imagine. But it is also dangerous, a place where curiosity can turn to peril if one isn’t careful. The portal itself lies hidden in plain sight, embedded in the floor of the library. Most would never notice it, and even if they did, a small memory altering spell would fix it all.

But today, I’ve made a decision I never thought I would.

I’m closing the portal.

I’ve spent years trying to understand the depths of the Castle’s magic, unraveling the mysteries hidden in its endless halls. The books speak in riddles, the walls shift with time, and the inhabitants—my companions—have lived by my side, tied to this place as much as I am. But Aiden is here now, and it’s not the right time for him to know. Not yet. He needs stability, not the weight of a legacy he can’t possibly understand.

So, I’m sealing it. The Castle of Wisdom will be closed indefinitely. The portal in the library will be locked, its door hidden from the world. The books will remain silent, and the magic will rest. I’ve given my friends permission to leave, to live their lives free of the Castle’s pull. They’ve been loyal for so long, but now, they deserve to be free. They’ve earned the right to make their own choices, just as I have.

It feels strange, as if I’m turning my back on something that has been a part of me for so long. I had built this castle brick by brick, collecting everything from everywhere, but I know this is the right decision. Aiden needs me more than the Castle does. I’ve spent years chasing answers, but now, the only thing that matters is being here for him.

I won’t take him to the Castle. Not yet. He’s too young, too fragile. One day, perhaps, when he’s ready, the portal will be opened again, and the Castle will welcome him. But that day is far off, and until then, it will remain hidden, its secrets buried deep beneath the floor of the library. I’m trusting fate now. Whatever happens, the Castle will wait for him—when the time is right.

For now, all I want is to spend time with my grandson. I’ve missed so much already. He needs to heal, to feel like a child again, and I’ll do whatever I can to help him find that peace. The Castle can wait. Aiden is what matters now.