This is episode 8 of a serial fantasy fiction tale. “Murder Among Mages”
In a city where magic is both a gift and a burden, exists a library tucked away in an opulent, ancient manor. Zimmerman House. Our protagonist, a mage named Elara, stumbles upon this manor after losing her mentor in a tragic magical accident. She is given the opportunity of a lifetime in exchange for silence and dedication to a woman claiming to be an ancient goddess.
Their magical world is a combination of England’s aristocracy & manners, and our world. Dangerous, dirty, and full of secrets. Bridgerton meets modernity -- a murder mystery mixed with magic.
Elara is tasked with unearthing her former mentor’s killer while making sense of the Zimmerman Library. As she delves deeper into the library, she uncovers the stories of those who came before her, mages who wielded power for purposes both noble and nefarious. The library challenges her understanding of right and wrong, forcing her to question the nature of sacrifice and the true meaning of loss.
In the end, she must confront the ultimate question as she faces her mentor’s murderer: Is the power to rewrite fate worth the price of losing one's humanity?
Previously…
The whisper carried again on the still air. No clear words, but the cadence of human speech, certainly…after searching for some time, twisting her way through the passageways created by shelves and cabinets, she found no one else.
From a corner of the library, in the section dedicated to potions came a solitary whisper.
“She’ll do.”
And now, the continuation…
In her room, Elara was pleasantly surprised at the addition of a desk made of dark wood, and a comfortable-looking high-backed chair. On the desk was a small lamp with a green glass shade, and a note on bone-colored stationery.
Miss Emerson,
I thought you might find a desk useful in a more comfortable space than the library. Writing supplies are in the drawers. Have you explored your study yet? If you need anything further, feel free to ask.
A.Z
The desk had multiple drawers, and Elara opened each of them. There were notebooks, fountain pens, bottles of ink of various shades, paper, and envelopes, lead pencils, a seal and wax plugs, and a drawer of hanging file folders waiting to be filled. Seized by a sudden decision, she sat in the chair and chose a notebook bound in red leather. Her fingers closed around a fountain pen encased in a translucent green material. She was pleased to find it full of ink as she wrote on the notebook’s first page.
I intend to use this book as my journal - to record my thoughts and impressions of my life here at Zimmerman House.
I have not been here long, the house, and Agatha, are still a mystery to me. She claims to be the ancient Goddess Morrigan, and Hallan’s last letter to me confirms this. Apparently, Hallan studied under her, and H wished me to do the same. I will not go into the details, but a deal has been struck between myself and Agatha. The terms are far better than any life I might have had on my own. Life with Hallan was not spare, by any means, but here, there is an opulence that speaks of a wealth that must have taken decades to build. The house is warded, runes can be found in the most unexpected of corners. Even incorporated into the stained glass of the doors and windows and in the support beams.
Meals promise to be far to be better than I could have expected. Hallan and I, with some exceptions, frequently ate light meals of soup, salads, and cheese. Agatha seems to have a taste for proper meals. I had forgotten how much I missed the taste of roasted quail. It was a delight to have it for dinner tonight. Agatha’s cook, Sheridan, seems pleasant enough and eager to please. Her willingness to stock my favorite juice is a point in her favor.
The Zimmerman Library is a curious place. More vast than I first thought and mysterious all on its own. I started to explore it tonight but barely made it through the divination section. I am not entirely certain I saw all of it. I thought I heard whispers, but when I wandered among the stacks and shelves, I found no one else. I left and returned here to my room.
I am tired, but I want to study Hallan’s book more. Agatha says Hallan wrote three, so I suppose I should be more specific. ‘Bridging Worlds: The Theory and Practice of Portal Magic’. I have only begun reading it, and what I did read might as well be in a foreign language. (Tomorrow I hope to use the pool as well)
Before I retire for the night, for it is already the wee hours of the morning, I should note that we had a visit by a detective at the end of dinner. Detective Morrow. She is an odd choice to investigate Hallan’s murder - unschooled in the magical arts. But she is attractive, with a bit of an attitude. I get the impression Agatha will be her foil. But I will concern myself with that tomorrow. I am too tired to write further.
It took no time at all to change into her night clothes and crawl beneath the covers. The sheets were pleasantly cool and very soft against her skin. The feather duvet trapped and reflected her body heat, and soon created a cozy cocoon. She opened the book she had been reading to the section she’d left off.
In the annals of magical study, few disciplines are as captivating and complex as the art of Portal Magic. This field, which lies at the intersection of arcane theory and practical application, offers a window (quite literally) into the boundless potential of the magical world. I will seek to explain the esoteric practices surrounding portal magic, guiding the adept from foundational theories to the nuanced execution of inter-dimensional gateways.
The allure of traversing vast distances in the blink of an eye or stepping through a doorway into another realm has fascinated mages for centuries. Yet, the creation and manipulation of portals are not without their risks and ethical considerations. It is an art that requires not only precision and control but also an understanding of the deeper connections between locations, times, and the fabric of reality itself...
Elara’s overtired mind could absorb no more, and she fell asleep with a soft sigh.
Her sleep was not a restful one though. Her subconscious tortured her with glimpses of Hallan working in her lab, then struggling with a shadowy attacker outside her house, then slumping against the exterior of her house, covered in her own blood, weakly begging for help.
Finally, Elara woke from the nightmare with tears dampening her cheeks and pillow.
She rolled over on her back and sighed. As soft as the bed was, no matter how much she felt cradled and comfortable, apparently, there would be no further sleep.
She slipped her dressing gown on over her night clothes and sat at the desk to record the nightmare while she could still recall all the details. The desk lamp did not chase away the shadows in the farthest corners of her room, but she had enough light to record her impressions of the dream. Afterward, she washed and dressed in black trousers, a simple white shirt, and black shoes.
Surprisingly, only one place was set for breakfast, with a vase of snow-white lilies in the center of the table. A folded newspaper waited beside a steaming cup of coffee.
The experience of lingering over a newspaper and coffee before breakfast while the sounds of the city drifted in through the windows was new. It felt…decadent, she decided. The newspaper itself, The Denham Gazette, was different than the one Hallan had subscribed to, this one focused more on business, the arts, and gossip than the news that affected the working class. Headlines promised juicy tidbits of scandal from the ball held at the Vandergilt estate the day before. Another story called into question investments made by Count Melville into an aether bottling factory that had long been on the brink of collapse.
None of the stories captured Elara’s attention for very long. The nobility of the city had never been of interest to her.
When Sheridan pushed through the kitchen doors with a tray in hand, she greeted her with a bright smile and chipper tone.
“Good morning, Miss Emerson!”
“Morning, Sheridan,” Elara gestured across the table. “Is Miss Zimmerman not having breakfast?”
“She’s meeting with Garnet, and Millicent, the new maid. She asked me to bring a tray up to her room,” Sheridan set a plate of eggs and sausages in front of Elara, with a small bowl of strawberries beside it.
“Are the three of you the only staff?”
“There are two other maids, of course. A house this large could never be kept up by one.”
“Of course,” Elara murmured, a little embarrassed she’d not thought of that.
When she returned with the silver coffee pot, Sheridan asked if her eggs were to her liking.
“They’re very good, the spice you’ve used is a refreshing change from what I’m used to. Although I suspect, I’ll be discovering many things here I’m unaccustomed to.”
Sheridan took another folded newspaper from beneath her elbow. “Miss Zimmerman requested I bring you this as well. She felt you might gain a better understanding of things by studying a cross-section of Denham you may not have been privy to under Miss Sheridan’s tutelage.”
“A polite way of telling me to broaden my horizons?” Elara chuckled.
“I couldn’t say, Miss.”
Elara made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. “You can leave the pot. I’m sure I’ll drain it while I get caught up on the cross-sections of Denham.”
Sheridan smiled at Elara’s choice of words and returned to the kitchen.
The Denham Herald’s focus was not on the rich nobles of the city. Stories reported on a variety of events such as the breakdown of negotiations between the management of a pipe factory and its workers, the opening of a new market, and a letter from a concerned citizen about the health hazards of the “new vehicles”, among other stories of concern to the city’s working class. But one report in particular caught her eye.
Security Breach at Denham's Aether Research Facility: Investigation Underway
In an unprecedented event that has left both the scientific and noble communities in shock, Denham's esteemed Aether Research Facility was compromised late last night in a daring security breach. The facility, renowned for its cutting-edge advancements in aetheric energy and magi-tech, was infiltrated by unknown persons, raising serious concerns about the security of sensitive research and proprietary technologies.
The breach was discovered by security personnel during a routine patrol at approximately 2 AM. Initial reports suggest that the intruders disabled the facility's advanced security systems, including the state-of-the-art Aetheric Barrier, before gaining access to the central research wing. It is currently unclear what, if any, critical data or prototypes were stolen during the incident.
Director Reginald Hawthorne of the Aether Research Facility addressed the press this morning, stating, "We are working closely with the Denham City Guard and our internal security team to conduct a thorough investigation. The safety and integrity of our research are of utmost importance, and we will spare no effort in uncovering the perpetrators behind this breach."
The incident has sparked a wave of speculation and concern among the city's residents. Some fear possibly stolen technologies could be used for malicious purposes, while others worry about the potential implications for Denham's burgeoning magi-tech industry.
Inspector Brenton Melton, leading the investigation, assured the public that every possible lead is being pursued. "We are committed to bringing those responsible to justice and ensuring that Denham's Aether Research Facility remains a beacon of innovation and safety," he declared.
In the meantime, security measures across the city's other high-profile magi-tech institutions have been reinforced. As the investigation continues, the Denham Herald will provide updates on this developing story.
For more in-depth coverage and expert analysis, subscribe to the Denham Herald, where we bring you the latest news of interest to the working people.
Something told Elara there was more to this story than was being reported.
To be continued!