The Soul looked down the hall to the small dorms on the second floor of the West Wing. There was more dorms on the first floor, and a huge inter-dimensional library in a rift in space on the third. He walked down the hall to his room, a large half circle desk covered in papers, written in draconic, and opened stud books of spells and the arts of magic. He was researching Shadowcasting, many different branches of the art, and so it was taking him much time to look through history of each branch. The door closed by a push of force from The Soul, as he began to write again, notes all, and taking sips of his warming drink.