‘Decades spent practicing control over Aether is not enough to stop someone from knifing you while you slumber. It is for that reason I applaud you for deciding to broaden your horizons in the field of Wards by reading this text. With a good Ward on your dwelling, you can sleep easy knowing that no ne’er-do-well will take your life before you wake.’

— Excerpt from ‘A Study of Wardmaking’ by Helton Wardwright, a paranoid wizard widely known for the contributions he made to the craft that became his namesake.

The walls of Hindleton’s office were lined with an assortment of maps, tapestries, and the occasional book shelf. While the room was fairly expansive, most of the unoccupied floor space was taken up by stacks of books and scrolls. To some, it might have felt cluttered, but to Quinn it gave an odd sense of comfort. There was something reassuring about the way it showcased Hindleton’s obvious love for books and history.

”I apologize for the wait, Mister Hart, but I assure you it was worthwhile.” Said Hindleton, the words causing Quinn to jump.

When they had arrived at the office, Hindleton told him to take a seat, as well as not to leave the office, while he retrieved a book.

Given the ominous warning he had received earlier about the Restricted Stacks, he had done so, instead busying himself with studying one of the maps of Locros on the wall. Neither Clint nor Bao had a map such a map, and so the geography Quinn had learned in his two day crash course had been done through pantomime and hasty sketches. It wasn’t until the professor had spoken that Quinn saw he had returned with whatever he was looking for.

”That’s okay, Professor, it wasn’t any trouble. And it’s alright if you just call me Quinn.”

The professor gave him a warm smile in return. “Quinn it will be then, and you may call me Amadeus— Being called ‘Professor Hindleton’’ or even just ‘Professor’ all the time loses its shine after a few hundred years…”

Amadeus walked over to his desk and took a seat across from Quinn before setting a ragged journal down between them.

Quinn regarded it with a curious expression and Amadeus answered his unasked question.

”I have been a member of the University’s faculty for a number of years now, and in my time I have had the chance to be acquainted with a great many exceptional individuals. One such person left this in my care before his death. He instructed me to pass it on when, in his words, ‘a poor schmuck like him’, ends up here. Please, have a look.”

Quinn reached for the journal and, after getting a nod of confirmation from Amadeus, opened it. As he read the first page, his brows rose, ‘The Outworlder’s Handbook, by Aegian Castellanos’ was written across it in a controlled, compact, script.

”Chancellor Aegian, or Aegian the Aether-blessed as he is called in the history books, is remembered for a great many things. He was an exceptional mage, kind-hearted philanthropist, and, to me, a loyal friend. He was also an Outworlder, although that is a much lesser known fact.

The journal tells of his experiences after arriving on Locros, and how he came to accept his new life here. It also contains a number of spell circuits of his own creation, based on foreign principles he said were better understood in the world he came from, as well as some general information he wished he had known when he arrived. I hope you will find it of use.”

Quinn wasn’t sure what to say as Amadeus finished his explanation, his attention instead turning once more to Aegian’s writing.

Until now, he hadn’t given much thought to the idea of other Outworlders; He knew that his experience arriving here wasn’t unique, Talios, as well as his roommates, had made that clear in their explanations. But the journal made him realize that he truly wasn’t alone.

Other people had been thrust into a new world just like him, and at least one of them seems to have done pretty well for themselves if what Amadeus said was any indication. They’d even thought to leave behind some words of wisdom for others like them.

Quinn flipped to the next page, curious to see what advice lay within. He didn’t get far. As he began to read the first line, Amadeus cleared his throat, bringing Quinn back to the current moment.

”While I applaud your enthusiasm, I believe you will find an alcove in the Open Stacks a more suitable location to read than my office. I have other matters to attend to, but I can escort you to the student-friendly part of the Library now if you would like.” He said, bemused grin present once more.

Quinn closed the book and slipped it into his bag as blood rushed to his cheeks. “I- Yeah, that would be great.”

Their meeting at an end, the professor led Quinn out of his office and through the maze-like rows of shelves until they reached a single shelf that seemed to span the entire room. Set into it were a pair of double doors that seemed to radiate an oppressive feeling into the air that grew stronger as they approached until Quinn felt like a weight was pressing against his chest.

Amadeus, unbothered by this effect, walked past Quinn and opened them, dispelling the sensation. The Library looked no different past the doors, but Quinn assumed this door must be what marked the transition to the Open Stacks. Facing back towards Quinn, he nodded at the opening and confirmed Quinn’s suspicions. “That’s the Open Stacks, you should not have any trouble finding a quiet place to read there until your next class.”

He paused before adding, “You said this was your first time in the Library?”

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Quinn nodded.

”Well before I release you to roam, I would be remiss if I didn’t remind you of the rules of the Library. You may have read them in the University’s Handbook already, but I find a refresher never hurts.” Said Professor Hindleton.

Mention of the handbook made Quinn think, yet again, of the thick book that he still had yet to read despite being advised to do so on multiple occasions. In his defense, he’d been a little busy preparing his cover with his roommates. He resolved, for what must have been the third time, to read it as soon as he got the chance.

”There are three main rules.” He continued, “First, If you wish to check out a book from the Open Stacks, you must do so at the front circulation desk. Simply show it to the student clerk and they will then record the title in the ledger and have you sign. To return a book, you can leave it at any of the circulation desks— it does not have to be the front one— and someone will collect it to update the ledger.”

As Amadeus relayed the other two rules, some self explanatory ones about keeping noise to a minimum if you weren’t going to maintain a silence spell and being especially careful to avoid causing any damage to the Library or its books, Quinn heard a faint scraping sound from behind him.

Looking over his shoulder, Quinn saw a book sitting in the middle of the otherwise empty aisle. He squinted at it, trying to make out the title emblazonned in gold lettering across its cover.

”Is everything all right Quinn?” Asked Amadeus, causing Quinn’s attention to shift back to him.

”This may sound strange Professor, but there’s a book just sitting in the middle of the aisle that wasn’t there before.” He replied

Amadeus frowned before stepping to the side to see around Quinn. As he did so, his frown deepened further.

”Do you still see the book?” The professor asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Turning back around, Quinn saw that the book was no longer there.

“But… It was right there…?” He remarked softly in disbelief.

“Not to worry Mister Hart, I believe you.” Said the professor, studying the aisle way for a few moments more before addressing Quinn again.

“In addition to the dangerous knowledge contained in some of its volumes, the Restricted Stacks also has a great many warded, cursed, or hexed texts which will try to lure you into reading from their pages. I am willing to bet what you saw was an illusion meant to lead you back to one such book. Let this be a lesson in the dangers of this part of the Library, as well as a reminder as to why access to this section is limited to those who are able to deal with such threats.” Explained Amadeus, giving Quinn a reassuring pat on the shoulder before nudging him towards the still open doors.

Taking the hint, Quinn stepped out into the Open Stacks. As he passed the threshold, he felt the thrumming in the air behind him that he was learning to associate with magic. A look behind him showed no sign of the double doors he had just passed through, their space having been replaced by shelves packed with books; Indistinguishable from the rest of the library.

Pushing down a distrust for doors that was beginning to blossom in the back of his mind, Quinn went to look for a quiet nook in the Library he could spend the rest of his morning. He felt like he had been going non-stop since he arrived in Hollow and needed to take some time to decompress. He was also eager to see what advice lay within the journal he had been given.

—

It was several hours after Quinn’s departure and Amadeus still could not shake the nagging feeling that he was missing something. Setting down the book he was reading, an account of the Sundering of Linth that was horribly innacurate— He would know; He’d been there— he thought back again to Quinn’s hallucination of a book in the aisle way.

It had to have been nothing, stuff like that happened all the time in the Library. Books messing with someone’s mind was so common there was even a section covering it in—

Amadeus shot up out of his chair, an impressive feat given his withered physique, and stumbled over to the shelf where he kept his most frequently referenced books.

Finding what he was looking for, a volume titled Kildair’s Guide to Surviving the Library, he ripped it from the shelf, checked the table of contents, and then flipped to the correct page. As he read, realization dawned on him.

‘Any mage, no matter how incompetent, can break a ward given enough time to study it, or, a sufficient amount of applied Aether. Ward-makers are, of course, aware of this fact and have developed counter measures against such blatant weaknesses.

One such measure, developed by the aptly named ‘Brint the Oft-forgotten’, are a class of wards known as ‘Mental Compulsion Wards’. His reasoning when he created them was that if you couldn’t remember the ward you were studying, you couldn’t try to crack it. Of course, Brint didn’t consider the other applications of embedding mental compulsion spells in wards, namely the horrifically despicable things you could do with such a ward, but that is the cost of innovation I suppose.

As you may imagine by the existence of this chapter, Mental Compulsion Wards are an alarmingly common encounter for a Librarian. Here is my advice regarding them.

* First, if you ever suspect you may be suffering from mental compulsion, write it down. If your mind is lying to you, then you may forget your suspicions. A written note is the best place to start.

* Next, be sure to remain calm. You may just be paranoid and worrying over nothing. Do not take any drastic action until carefully assessing the situation

* Third, Analyze the thought process that had you arrive at this conclusion. Mental compulsion is an imperfect art and the mind is a resilient thing. Often that is enough to overcome any such spell. Of course, some spells account for that by mind wiping your recent memories when you realize this, hence the first step. Given enough repeats of this process, the spell will probably run out of energy.

* Lastly, Recharge the Mental Compulsion Ward that is embedded in this page which made you, upon suspecting you were under the effects of a mind altering spell, immediately rush to this book to read this chapter. I realize that it may seem counter-intuitive for me to have placed you under the very thing I am advising you on how to deal with, but sometimes you have to fight fire with fire. Besides, if you’re reading this, it worked.’

Smiling, Amadeus channeled a flow into the ward until he felt it was full again, then slipped the book back into its place on his shelf. Taking care of the Library’s contents was a shockingly dangerous job and that book had done wonders for reducing the mortality of Librarians.

Now where was he? Amadeus frowned, struggling to remember what realization he had just come to regarding that book from earlier. The one Quinn had hallucinated. Walking back to his chair, he sat down and dismissed the thought as a non-issue. Books messing with someone’s mind was so common there was even a section covering it in—

Amadeus shot up out of his chair, an impressive feat given his withered physique, and stumbled over to the shelf where he kept his most frequently referenced books.