Murder Among Mages: Episode 7
Whispers & Pocketwatches
This is episode 7 of a serial fantasy fiction tale. “Murder Among Mages”
Previous chapters can be found HERE
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…
Miss Zimmerman likes her schedules, she does,” Sheridan nodded to herself as she cleared away the cups.
“What does she do?”
“I couldn’t say. You’ll have to ask her that yourself, Miss.”
‘Can’t say, or won’t?’ Elara pondered as she made her way to the library.
And now, the continuation…
Elara found the library barely illuminated and silent. She closed the door behind her and stood there, inhaling the smell of old manuscripts and studying the shadows.
‘It’s like a tomb in here,’ she thought. ‘Bit morbid, don’t you think, Emerson?’ she chided herself, imagining Hallan’s voice in her head.
Turning, she found a handful of switches on the wall and kept one eye on the lights as she fiddled with them. Having finally determined which switches operated which fixtures, and deciding which she wanted lit, Elara began to wander the passageways between the stacks.
Her first impression had been accurate. The library was enormous. The open shelves held a staggering number of books of various ages across a wide swath of topics. There were volumes on crystals and gemstones, tarot spreads, palmistry, the casting and reading of bones, scrying, tea-leaf divination, and rune casting spread over shelf after shelf.
When she spotted a leather oxblood chair at the end of the shelves on divination, Elara nearly went limp with relief. She flopped into it with little grace.
‘It’ll take forever to learn where everything is! No wonder Agatha told me to take a few days to get adjusted,’ She rubbed at her forehead as she tried to get a grip on her sense of growing frustration.
‘Perhaps if I just wander without trying to learn where everything is…take the pressure off myself, this might be easier,’ she thought.
She sat still, clearing her mind as Hallan as shown her. Trying to set aside all the noisy, intrusive thoughts that demanded attention. She won the battle gradually, but finally reached a quiet oasis in her mind with only the pulse of her heart in her ears and the sound of her breath.
Until a whisper to her left snapped her attention as taut as a bowstring.
“Hello?” Elara peered through the poorly lit space.
The whisper carried again on the still air. No clear words, but the cadence of human speech, certainly.
Elara rose from the chair somewhat stiffly and made her way in the direction she thought the sound had come from. The thick carpet beneath her boots muffled her steps.
After searching for some time, twisting her way through the passageways created by shelves and cabinets, she found no one else.
Perhaps Agatha had come in, found the book she needed, and had returned to her rooms? Back at the door, Elara checked her pocket watch and was surprised to find it was well past midnight. A large yawn overtook her as she decided to call it a night. She shut almost all of the light switches off, except for two. The lack of outcry from someone else deep in the stacks, and the oppressive silence, told Elara she was alone.
She left the library and returned to her room, full of questions she wanted to ask Agatha at breakfast.
From a corner of the library, in the section dedicated to potions came a solitary whisper,
“She’ll do.”
To be continued…
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