Deep remorse set over him as he stared at the image of his parents. They smiled at him, beaming brightly from behind the lining of the glossy photo. If only he could reach inside and grab hold of something, someone. He kidded at the idea of searching for a spell of some sort that would turn picture into reality; but magic could only solve a limited amount of things. Or so Cashal had told him. Luke couldn’t care less about magic helping him with homework, opening doors, or even fighting with Gravis; what good was it if he couldn’t use it to bring back the two most important people in his life?
He walked along the corridor, hand holding his key, his eyes grazing the paintings on the cold stone wall. Paintings lined the walls of the lower corridor of the atrium. Paintings of old keepers, atrium builders, and famous keeper athletes. A wall of keeper pride. The atrium. Weird. He had lived his whole life without even knowing. Without even knowing where his parents grew up. He doubted kids were ever as ignorant as he was.