Bookshelves stood towering on either side of Edda like the walls of some monstrous, literary canyon. It was dark now, almost midnight, and the only light illuminating the endless shelves was the small handheld flashlight she carried with her. The circle of light it cast swept up and down the long halls of the library, searching for any insomniac servants or stray librarians.
Of course, there wasn’t truly any reason to employ this much subterfuge. She was an adult. This was practically her manor, after all. But still, it would complicate things if news of her late-night outings got back to her father. If she were being honest with herself, she got a bit of a thrill from feeling like she shouldn’t be here, even though she had every right to the place.
This was it. Edda stopped and looked up at the glass-fronted bookshelf looming out of the shadows in front of her. Her family’s collection of occult works. Grimoires and supposedly magical texts passed down from generation to generation. Of course, none of the spells, rituals, or summonings contained within actually functioned. Still, the books were “culturally significant”, and the White family never disposed of anything significant.
Edda quickly amended her previous thought. These dusty tomes didn’t have any use before the incident. After that meteor had stuck the Atlantic Ocean and supposedly “magical” items started having real effects all over the world, well… She had to at least try. Edda shuddered to think of what it would mean if her hunch was correct.
Opening the case as quietly as she could, she passed the flashlight’s beam over its titles. Most of them were in Latin, Greek, or a few languages she couldn’t recognize at all. Picking one of the more understandable volumes at random, she pulled it off its shelf and retreated to an isolated reading room with grimoire tucked securely under her arm.
Here, she felt she could relax a bit more, even if she dare not turn on the light. Out there, even if she logically knew that there shouldn’t be anyone watching her, the lessons of her youth were hard to shake off. If there was even a chance that someone might see her, it was hard not to slip into character as the perfect high-society lady. Frankly, it was exhausting, which made these little forbidden excursions all the more enjoyable.
As the book hit the table it released a small puff of dust into the air, causing Edda to frown. What did they employ librarians here for if not to keep the books in good condition? Waving both the thought and the cloud away, she opened the tome and began reading. As she had expected, very little of the contents made sense to her. This wasn’t her first time with these volumes, or even this book in particular. Curiosity had gotten the better of her as a child and she had made a point to go through most of the “magic” books in the library on the off chance that she might find something that worked. A lot of these spells required reagents, or special rituals, but that wasn’t what she was looking for. She flipped through the pages, skimming, until she found something that looked a bit more promising.
A simple light spell. Something that was supposed to “illuminate the darkness”. If this worked, it might even replace the need for her flashlight. If it failed, well, what was the worst that could happen? The dark would simply remain dark. More importantly, the instructions laid out in the grimoire’s yellowing pages didn’t seem to require anything too outrageous in the way of ingredients or preparation.
Soon, she was back in the room with everything she needed. Edda made a quick scan of the reading chamber to make sure everything was as she had left it. It was paranoid, perhaps, but she had gotten used to being very aware of everything regarding her image. Satisfied, she dropped a single feather and a small vial of sunflower oil to the table. The former was plundered from a pillow, and the latter she had been lucky enough to find in the expansive kitchen pantry.
A few gestures and a muttered incantation later and… Nothing happened. The feather, which according to the spell should have burst into luminescent light, remained the same dull white color as before. All she was left with was a small mess on the tabletop and a puddle of sunflower oil. Edda frowned again. Had the spell not worked because she had made a mistake somewhere, or was all of this just a waste of time? It was difficult to tell.
Gathering up the reagents she tried again, and again the feather remained unlit. Edda picked up the book and read it over one more time. It was starting to seem as though this was a dead end after all, but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Wiping up the mess, she made one last attempt, paying special attention to the cadence, the enunciation, all of the tiny details that went into the spell laid out by the book.
The feather in her hand exploded into a nimbus of light. In the dark of the small room, lit only by her flashlight, the sudden flash was blinding. Edda covered her eyes reflexively and dropped the feather. The moment it left her hands, the light vanished, and darkness flooded back in. That had worked. If only for a moment. The pulsing afterlights still crowding her vision were evidence enough of that.
Edda paused and sat alone in the dark for a moment. The implications of what had just happened were almost overwhelming. Certainly she had heard about people all over the world using magic or discovering artifacts, but to have the proof right here in front of her… She could no longer simply dismiss the idea. Could this be similar to the discovery of steam power, or electricity? A change that would alter the face of the whole world.
She grinned, and slipped out of the room once again on a direct course for the glass-fronted bookshelf. This time, Edda made little effort to hide what she was doing. The thrill of secretly sneaking through her own home had been replaced by something much greater. An excitement and potential so huge that she could hardly contain herself. Grabbing as many books as she thought she could understand, she lugged them back to the reading chamber and dropped them onto the desk with a heavy thud.
Edda winced only a moment at the noise. She was finished skulking around, but there would still be some annoying questions to account for if someone found her here with these volumes. Picking up the first grimoire and laying it open in front of her, she buried her nose in the pages and got to work.
