Simone Allard || After
The restricted section of Voterique’s library is a wonder unto itself. It’s not a floor so much as it is a separate dimension, one which takes ample skill to access. A small section of the Enchanter’s section has been cordoned off to accomodate it. Makes sense, Simone knows, considering how many of the books in that realm of Casting have been sequestered here.
Getting inside this section is a wonder, too. Simone knows the general rotation of the library staff, thanks to errant comments they’ve squeezed out of the faculty and Didier, who helps run the building part-time. Still, each time they enter the rift, it’s with a racing heart and sweating palms.
This time is no different.
Like the rest of the library, the books here are sorted by division, then title. The rows of shelves tower over Simone as they pick their way through. They scan the spines with a lump of magicite in their fist, heart hammering.
Before long, the watery blue light catches on the first title they seek. Memory: A Hidden Power of the Brain. A slimmer book by the looks of it. Simone frowns when they pick it up and thumb through. Plenty of times, the books Voterique has deigned “unacceptable” has surprised them. They skim the first few pages, almost missing the section titled “Memory and the Means to Alter It”, but it seizes their attention on a second look. A short read-through reveals to Simone its Restricted status.
People alter memories every day in minor ways. If you’ve had to convince yourself of a truth, that is an alteration. If you tell someone a small lie, just enough to nudge them towards your truth, that is an alteration. The realm of Enchantment treats memory no differently—though often, its approaches and results are more severe.
Simone’s hypothesis is all but proven in this single paragraph. Of course Enchantment would have a role. Lip between their teeth, they stuff the book into their bag without a second thought.
The next tome they seek proves a more difficult search. The title alone is enough to tell Simone their quest will be harried—Enchantment: The Art of Memory Magic. They hadn’t paid as much attention when asking the archivist for assistance, but now as they check their notes again, they let out a soft groan.
It had to be Enchanting. They shove their list back into their pocket. Eight realms of magic and Etienne was swayed by the most dangerous of all.
Their footfalls reverberate throughout the space. The magicite in their grasp flickers. The scent of books old and new drifts to them from every corner of the rift, like crumpled paper and paper glue and aged leather. Scents that Simone normally finds comfort in, but now are enough to make the back of their neck prickle.
They’ve scanned every book in the Enchantment section twice before they find the second tome. It’s much thicker than the first, more a textbook than a novel, and bears a respectable heft when Simone picks it off the shelf. The spine creaks as they lift the hard front cover and flick through.
This will take some time to read.
They’ve just finished settling the book within their bag, grunting at the added weight, when they hear a faint fizzle. The pressure in their ears builds before releasing with a pop. From far away, someone hums, their footfalls echoing.
Fuck.
Simone shoves the magicite into their pocket with a sharp inhale. Turning it off is as simple as turning the lever on a faucet; at once, the stone dims. Darkness presses in on them with the absence, as heavy as lead. Their mind flicks to the time they’d hidden in their enbei’s closet during a meeting, how their own breaths had covered their skin in an uncomfortable dew, how terrified they had been to move lest they make a sound.
Focus, Simone. They press their palm to the shelf closest to them, forcing a deep breath. The footfalls draw ever closer.
They’ve reached the end of the row when they catch the cold blue glow of a magicite stone in the distance. It’s a small pinprick of light, hidden every so often as the holder disappears behind another row of books. Simone sucks in their cheeks.
The entrance is somewhere in the dark beyond, they know. Some place past whoever is within this rift with them. If they can safely extricate themself…
The stranger rounds another corner. The light bobs with their steps, painting the shelves in shades of blue. Simone stiffens as it draws nearer.
I have to get out of here.
All they have is their fingers against wood to guide them as, heart hammering, they take their first steps into the dark. The temperature around them gets warmer, then cooler. The smell of ozone tickles their nostrils, guiding them the rest of the way.
Then, when they’re so close to the entrance their entire body prickles, their hip slams against a shelf. The books at their side rattle, the sound enhanced by the distorted space.
The blue light in the distance flashes. “Hello?”
They’re so close, they could reach out and touch the exit. The hairs on their arms raise to attention. Before they can think, they take the final step. The world spins violent enough to make Simone’s stomach twist. The pressure builds in their ears before again releasing with a pop.
When they open their eyes, they are back on the eighth floor of the Voterique library, facing the door simply labeled RESTRICTED. Clutching their bag tighter, they spin on their heel and race for the exit.
#
Even before coming to Voterique, before taking their entrance exams and facing the panel of professors eager to interview them, Simone had known about the basics of magic. It was hard not to know them, given the lessons their enbei had instilled in them. From childhood, they have often been subject to their parent’s lectures, been put through test after vigorous test. Magic, at this point, is as easy as breathing.
And yet, somehow, they find themself on their apartment floor, brow furrowed as they study the array of sigils before them. The books they’ve collected—legally obtained or otherwise—form a ring around them. They flick from book to book, flipping page after page, Caster’s glove hovered over the parchment and waiting for something to happen.
It would be easier with a subject to test on, they know, but the only choice in the apartment with them is Dio and the ethics of performing spells on an animal are nebulous at best. Still, the option is all the more attractive to them the longer they read and don’t get results.
As the prospect of testing the spells on Dio grows too tempting to ignore, a knock on the door disturbs them.
Simone rises to their feet, grunting with the effort, and nudges the books under the couch with a foot. For good measure, they take the blanket Dio had been resting on, earning a chirrup of complaint for their efforts, and lays it over where the books are hidden. A good enough hiding spot—for now, at least. Another series of knocks urges them to abandon doing anything further.
Alienor stands on the other side when they peer through the peephole, hugging herself close. She leans hard on her cane, looking the door up and down with a sour expression.
They ease the door open to face her. “Good afternoon,” they say with a respectful dip of their head.
“So you haven’t taken ill, at least.”
Before they can ask what she means, she barges her way into their apartment and shuts the door with the flick of her cane. Her eyes, a cold and piercing blue, rake over Simone before shifting to the rest of their apartment. She’s never been inside their space before. She’s never had to be, they think.
“You weren’t in class.” She takes a step closer, straightening to her full height, as she speaks.
Simone swallows, shame gurgling in their gut. “I apologize if my absence caused you concern, Alienor.”
Her cane thumps against the floor. She gives the room another appraisal, gaze settling before long on the lump of books by their couch.
“When did you get a cat?”
Their blood runs cold. Dio. Still, a lie forms itself on the tip of their tongue. “I was… watching him for a friend for a couple of days.” Even as they speak, they pray Alienor won’t feel the need to follow up on it.
Alienor’s gaze remains glued to the couch, even as she passes Simone by and takes a seat. She spins her cane between her palms, gaze finally going vacant in an expression Simone recognizes. She’s thinking.
Then, “Simone, you do understand you’re being watched quite closely, do you not?”
The hairs on their arms raise. Floundering for words, they stuff their hands into their pockets.
“Every step you take out of line is being recorded,” Alienor continues, as if Simone hadn’t reacted at all.
Their throat dries. “What are you talking about?”
She still doesn’t look their way. Instead, she continues thumping her cane against the floor.
“Why would faculty want to watch me?”
“You are directly involved with someone who recently disappeared, Simone. Our professors are not fools.”
Simone swallows hard. “But I didn’t…”
“But you could have knowledge of where she went.” Now, her stare pins them where they stand. “Not to mention your own personal exploits. You did not think you could get away with sneaking into the Restricted section, did you?”
Their nails dig craters into their palms. Nadia is dead. And there’s no way they could know about that.
Jaw set, they check the lock on the door before striding to Alienor’s side. She doesn’t flinch from their hard stare, but they wish she would, if only to give them an iota of power over the situation. Instead, she arches a brow, chin tipped in defiance.
“You are very lucky, Simone, that it was I who found you in the library earlier.” Then, with a sigh, she sets her cane aside. “You are luckier still I don’t have the will to report this transgression.”
Their jaw twitches. “Why?”
Now, Alienor tears her gaze away. “You’ve always been one of my favorite prefects, Simone. Your kindness earned you kindness in return.”
“And… What do you want from me?”
Her lip twitches in something not unlike a smile. “Let go of this hollow pursuit. Lower your head and strive for the end of your second year with no further issue. Voterique has lost one student recently, after all. No need for it to lose another.”
Despite the gentleness of her words, the meaning behind it is enough to knock the wind from Simone’s lungs. Is she… threatening them?
As they ponder the purpose of her visit, Alienor rises again with a groan. “Maintain caution. That is all I ask.”
She limps back to the door, a gentle hiss escaping with every step. Then, at the door, she turns back.
“A final piece of advice, should you deign to take it.”
Simone gives a stiff nod in encouragement.
“Reading books on a realm of magic is not the same as the practice of it itself. With that in mind, I might suggest you visit the campus Enchanter’s council to get their insight. They will get farther with their spells than you will, after all.”
Simone’s brain swirls. Before they can think of a response, Alienor is gone, the door shutting with a click behind her.
Like what you're reading or have some feedback? Let me know in the comments below!
Friendly reminder, I have a Patreon! For $1, you can see a sneak peak of next week's chapter, while $3 gets you the whole chapter right now! And, as an added perk, you also gain access to a few of my short stories as well, including one I released last week about two women in ancient Greece who fall in love.
This is all optional, of course, but do consider checking it out if this book has struck your fancy! And if you like my writing in general, I do have a Ko-Fi shop you can check out as well.
Next week, we're back with Nadia as she processes the things she's learned and takes her next steps. See you then!
