The next is a shared dorm room, small and cozy, with something like corking up all over the walls. It makes it not the prettiest room, but it's very quiet. Even that background music that won't stop is muffled here.

There are two twin beds crammed in, with a small desk beside each. Both desks are absolute messes of writing utensils and musical instruments and parchment. One bed is made up like it hasn't been slept in, while the other is all rucked up and has a sweet, but slightly sweaty, scent coming from it.

A young man is here—a much younger Medren, brown hair at an awkward length and his shoulders just a little too big for his current form. He's maybe twelve or thirteen at most. He's plinking away at a song on a gittern and laughing about it, the sound warm.

As before, the cord runs through the room and under a locked door with some sort of weighted platform next to it.

A sign on the door reads: "What is the weight of family? What of love?"