Taemin took his new role in the castle very seriously.  He would wake up before the sun, and make his way out the kitchen door to tend the animals.  Even thought the mornings were bitter cold, he still made an effort to earn a place in the castle. Minho had filled his room with pretty clothes but all made for girls.  Taemin at first had minded quiet a bit, and Minho found him several smaller pants and shirts, but with each passing day the air got colder and Taemin cared less what his clothes looked like.  He would layer his pants with heavy tunics and colorful scarves just for the extra warmth.  Everyday, though more and more men’s clothes seemed to appear in his dressers and Taemin began to wonder if Minho sewed them himself. 

He had spent several days in the castle and had seen not another soul.  Between the two of them meals were cooked and eaten together and when ever Taemin was left on his own he spent his time wandering the endless halls of the castle.  He had found many empty rooms with layers of dust that he was sure had history woven into them.  He found old paintings, and broken furniture that even in its condition must be worth a fortune.  He often pictured what the castle looked like full of life and people; wonderfully decorated and lavish.  But now, it was inhabited by only two and a hand full of rooms ever entered. 

About a week after his arrival Taemin discovered what was to become his favorite room.  A library.  Hidden in the back of the castle and closed behind thick wooden doors Taemin had been in complete awe when he found it.  Towering shelves of volumes and seemingly endless rows, it was better than any treasure Taemin had seen in the castle by far.  He spent a whole day cleaning the hearth and carefully lighting a fire behind the glass cover.  He uncovered large reading chairs and cleared several hand carved tables before allowing himself to explore the spines if titles. 

There were shelves of classics, and old volumes that Taemin recognized as famous works, but then there were others that the classics alluded to, and even more that Taemin saw were given extra care and even older than those.  Some where even placed in glass cases, Taemin decided not touch those, fearing the fragility of the pages.  He found almanacs and collections of encyclopedia, and even books written in languages that he didn’t recognize.  But his favorite section was one in the middle of the room stacked in plain looking cases, but they held stories of far away and imaginary lands and heroes who defeated odds placed against them.  Taemin lost himself in the pages and often babbled away about his readings to Minho whenever they were together.  Occasionally, Minho would come seek him out and even listen to Taemin read, always watching the boy.

It was on one of those particular days that Taemin was alone wondering the aisles of books looking for the next volume in the series about a young man and a fairy prince, that he saw something in the corner of his eye. It seemed to be a shadow, but darker than any he had seen before, like pit of black, in the corner of the room.  It drank in his attention and held him frozen between two rows of books.  As he stared he thought at first his eyes played tricks with him, moving the very edges of the shadow, making it fuzzy.  But then it did move, it grew and breached its flat form rising from the corner and taking a form.

Fear broke inside Taemin as he fell back and screamed.  Clawing his way up and running from the library he burst through the doors and raced down the hall that had become so familiar.  He screamed for Minho and collided hard with the man as he turned a blind corner. 

“Taemin what’s wrong?” He held the boy’s arms and tried to calm him, but Taemin was trying to push Minho back, to gain more distance between him and the library.

“There was something there. Something in the library.” He panted and shook in Minho’s grasp. 

“What? What is in the library?” Minho’s voice was raised with concern as he steadied the boy. 

Taemin swallowed and shook his head trying to find words for what he had seen. “I don’t know, it was a shadow, but it was alive and moving.” He sounded crazy and he expected Minho to shun his ranting but the man did not. Instead, a soft and sympathetic look changed his face as he stared at Taemin. 

“It’s alright.”  He kept a firm hold on Taemin's shoulders.

“What? No, you don’t understand, it was-”

“I do understand. I have seen them too. In fact,” Minho turned and found a small shadow cast along the floor from a nearby end table.  He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, the sound echoing along the stone hall.  The shadow seemed to grow impossibly dark before the same thing happened.  The edged became fuzzy and from the blackest depth of the shadow a small form rose.  First a bulbous head, completely spherical, and then a body, thin and crocked.  The thing stood no taller than an infant and lulled from side to side under the weight of its own head.

Taemin cowered next to Minho, hiding behind him but staring in horror.  But the man only watched him with an amused look.

“What is it?” Taemin couldn’t look away.

“I don’t really have a name for them, they are shadowlings, I suppose, but I can make them, and have them carry out small task. It is an external part of the curse.  I have always been able to conjure them.  They will not harm you, quite useless actually.  I have them do things like monitor the rooms or clean things as I use them.  They have been the ones repurposing the drapes into clothes for you, at a rather slow pace I might ad.” Minho tugged at Taemin's heavy tunic and he suddenly remembered seeing the pattern in one of the upstairs parlors during his early explorations.

Taemin carefully moved from behind Minho and took a step closer to the swaying shadow creature.  He reached out and touched its head, cold and almost liquid like, it made Taemin's stomach turn and he withdrew, taking another step back towards Minho. Minho let out a small laugh. “You see a harmless shadowling and still you run into the arms of the real monster.” Minho mused.

Taemin ignored the comment and took a step away but the shadowling followed taking two steps to match his one.  Watching it move turned Taemin’s stomach again and he made a noise of disgust as he recoiled.  Minho only laughed again, “this one seems to like you.”

“I don’t want it,” Taemin tried to get away from it but it followed.  Minho watched with the same amused smile.

“Don’t worry they will eventually disappear on their own, they never last.”

“How long?” Taemin was skittering a circle around Minho in a vain attempt to shake the creature.

“An hour, a day, a week, it depends on the task I created for it I guess. They tend to hover sometimes around things I am concentrated on though.”

Taemin finally stopped and the shadowling ran into his leg before falling over and shakily getting back up.  Taemin stared at it, accepting it’s presence, and deeply regarding what Minho had said.