Paged and Confused

Stumbling down the stairs from her second-floor apartment seven minutes past the time when the store should've been open wasn't the hard part. Neither was fumbling for the key to the front door through the haze of a hangover. Nor was undoing the protective wards that kept out punk-ass thieves and the literarily curious that had no respect for regular business hours. Nor was flicking the light switch, putting a bit of cash in the register, booting up the store's computers, checking the enchanted lock on the trap door to the cellar, or flipping the sign from CLOSED to OPEN. (Granted, that bit took quite a bit of willpower to accomplish.)

Nope. The hardest part of Madison Mortiere's morning was deciding what kind of music to fill the stuffy, dusty air with.

Maddy had been hunched over the glow of her computer screen for the better part of ten minutes, fingers clacking away at the keyboard. She'd gone through several different kinds of searches on YouTube, looking for something that fit the mood she was in.

And hey, if she could run it without having to wait five seconds for the skip ad button to pop up, all the better!

She glanced up to make sure the isles of her store were still devoid of any life whatsoever before putting in one option lingering in the back of her mind. "Lo-fi hip hop beats to study-slash-relax to," she monotoned as she typed along. With a click of the thumbnail, the stream popped to life and filled the space with the relaxing sounds of acoustic guitar, lazy drumbeats, stuttering vocals, and the soft crackling and hissing of vinyl.

With a satisfied smile, Madison lazily picked up a small box of books that was delivered yesterday and began shelving them.

@beloved

Madison's vision blurred for the briefest of moments as she looked up at this... this intruder in her domain--wait, no, the proper word is customer thank you very much, for the shop is open you walking dumpster fire of a woman you opened it yourself twenty or so minutes ago before you try and argue with yourself just smile and get this over with already--

The necromancer stood there frozen like an indrik caught in the headlights, the muscles of her face twisting themselves into a facsimile of a polite smile.

"Shadow magic?" She looked around, moving slowly as to not make her headache any worse than it already was. "Uhhh, yeah, sure, I should have a couple volumes knocking around sssoooomewhere."

Carefully setting the stack that was cradled against her chest down on the carpeted floor, Madison motioned for the young woman to follow her. She felt like she should've been just a touch embarrassed to be seen working in the state she was in, but at a quick glance the customer seemed to be just as worse for wear. Or judging by the flat tone of her voice, disaffected and disinterested at the very least.

Ahh, to be young again. Maddy remembered her Hot Topic phase all too fondly. Nothing beat late 90s/early 200s emo.

"Should be in this section," Madison said with a wave of her hand. "Midterm rush's been rough on my organizing, with people coming in and grabbing everything and just tossing it back wherever." She cast another eye the customer's way before asking, "What skill level magic you researching?"

Anything, she said. Just anything. Didn't matter what. Just shadow stuff, please and thank you.

Madison clicked her tongue. The girl could've just Googled how do I shadowmancy and left the poor necromancer to power through this pounding headache.

Turning her attention back towards the towering stacks of books haphazardly arranged before her, Maddy started to run a finger across their spines. "I really should get some help in here to organize the damn place," she croaked. "Pay 'em in beer and pizza or something. So long as they don't get sauce on the covers."

Her finger brushed against gilded writing that, in an off-shoot of some old Gaelic Fae tongue, essentially read The Darker Arts For Those With A Challenged Sense Of Curiosity. But more biting, of course. Fae are savage little shits.

She gave a soft nod, figuring it was as good of a place as any to start. Peeling it off the shelf, Madison brushed away a thin layer of dust that had settled on the tops of the pages and pried the book open. The binding cracked in protest but quickly relented, revealing yellowed paper marked with beginner-level spells and thorough instructions in numerous common languages. Madison closed her eyes, inhaled the musty odor deeply, and focused her thoughts on the book.

Thin wisps of azure energy appeared in her mind's eye. With a flick of her wrist, she wrapped one around her spidery fingers and tugged at the veil between worlds. When she opened her eyes again, she stood face to face with the translucent spirit of the book's author. Thin as a rail and just shy of four feet tall, the remnant was dressed in ghostly rags with slits in the back to allow her tattered butterfly wings freedom to softly wave back and fourth. Greasy hair cascaded in knots from the shadows of her cowl, the only other feature really visible being a piercing set of eyes and two rows of sharpened teeth arranged in a hungry smile.

"Ah, it's you again," the spirit said, tilting her head up at the necromancer. "One of your little experiments bite back for a change?"

Already she wanted to toss the book back on the shelf and move onto another volume. "S'aint for me this time," Madison said flatly. "This fine young woman behind me is looking for a little help with her shadow magic. You were the first book I grabbed."

The spirit's razor-like grin only widened as she sized up the customer. "I had no idea you practiced time travel during your rebellious phase," she said with a titter.

Madison immediately reached for the corner of the page, gripping it tight between pale fingers, ready to give it an awful crease. The fae's ghostly hand rested on Madison's, sending a chill up her arm that she tried not to flinch from.

"Okay, okay, I'll be nice today."

"Thank you."

The spirit turned her attention to the black-haired woman at Madison's side. She cracked her knuckles, rolled her head around on her shoulders, made a big show of loosening up for whatever task was about to be placed before her.

"So, what can the late, great Brighid of Shadowfen do for you today, my dear?"