A fluttering of wings caused the doomed albino to glance upward, where an owl was quickly whirling off towards the castle. The paper it dropped was caught in autumnal draft, and looked as if it too would drift away before abruptly changing direction to smack Elric in the face. The word "gloom" briefly encompassed the majority of his vision, before he pulled it away and examined the flyer from a more reasonable distance.

It was not much later that Elric found himself outside the office mentioned in the flyer, wondering what a 'Professor Emeritus Dumbledore" would prove to be. The title sounded somewhat respectable, and, the flier certainly seemed to speaking to him- who was ever more oppressed by gloom or doubt than the doomed albino? Who could be more alone in this world? Sure, he had something of an actual friend in Smaug the dragon, and lately considered himself in the 'employ' of Ariane Emory II, who was really very pleasant. The irritated whining of the Black Sword in its scabbard reminded him that he was never without companionship- but, he was Elric, the Emperor of Ruins. Feeling gloomy, doubtful, doomed, and alone was his specialty, and technicalities weren't about to to change this. He knocked on the door of the office, wondering what a lemondrop was, and, if digestive biscuits were especially dangerous- he kept picturing miniaturized versions of the Noose of Flesh.