And now a word from the Spellthorn Academy newsletter:
The Aura Reader
Spellthorn’s Most Trusted (and Least Regulated) Source for Magical Mayhem
Vol. XCIX, Issue 3 – Circulation: Enchanted, Unauthorized, and Everywhere
Campus Whispers: “From Books to Baby Bumps?”
By: Quillie the Quibbler (Senior Gossip Arcanist)
Sources confirm that an unidentified student- believed to be fourth-year Dakota Bellamy- was spotted sneaking barefoot into the Restricted Section visibly pregnant and “carrying magical weight in all the wrong places.”
Witnesses report soft crinkling noises, spellbook dampness, and “an overwhelming scent of rose-laced foot balm and shame.”
Was it a failed summoning? A bold research project? Or did our notoriously radiant librarian associate, Beth Arclight, finally test her “theoretical transfer spell” on a live subject?
When asked for comment, Beth merely smiled and said, “Oh, you’ll read about it eventually.”
Magical Mishap Watch:
Leaking auras: 1
Rogue diapers: 1
Librarian smirks logged this week: 7
Overheard in the Dining Hall:
“If Beth asks you to stand in a glowing circle, just don’t.”
“Dakota’s carrying something spicy. You can feel it from across the quad.”
“I heard the baby’s already alphabetizing things from the womb.”
Editor’s Prediction of the Week:
Next week’s uniform update may include optional maternity robes. (You’re welcome, administration.)
Location: Spellthorn Library – Restricted Section, Later That Night
Dust thickens. The magical lighting dims to protect the older tomes. The silence is broken only by the occasional squeak of enchanted bindings… and Dakota’s increasingly frustrated huffs.
Mood: Containment, Desperation, Escape Planning
Dakota stands before a dusty mirror hidden behind an old bookshelf labeled "Thaumaturgical Ethics (Outdated)." She yanks uselessly at the magical diaper still snugly hugging her hips. Its containment glyphs pulse softly- protective, smug, and completely unwilling to budge.
Dakota (grumbling and straining):
“Come on, this isn’t even fair! I didn't agree to enchanted padding! What kind of spell just assumes your dignity is optional?!”
She grabs a spell-etched letter opener from the desk nearby and slashes downward. The blade sparks, bounces off harmlessly, and makes a sound that could only be described as a soft, magical giggle. Dakota freezes.
Dakota (flatly):
“Did it… laugh at me?”
Suddenly a cramp twists her lower abdomen. Not from the imp. Lower. Her eyes go wide.
Dakota (heart pounding):
“Oh no.”
She bolts barefoot toward the nearest restroom, belly swaying, each step punctuated by a distinct crinkle. But as she crosses the threshold, a glowing glyph on the diaper flares…and her legs lock.
Dakota (panicking):
“Oh, gods. It’s not just containment. It’s control. No bathroom. No modesty. Just…magical motherhood on rails.”
She slides down against the wall, face hot, hugging her belly, the humiliating truth sinking in like a weight she can’t remove.
**********
After Dusk:
The sky dims to violet. In a borrowed cloak with the hood drawn low, Dakota slips out the side door of the library. The bump beneath the fabric sways. The padding beneath her robes rustles softly with every step.
She moves toward the edge of the northern woods, away from the paths, away from the rules. Behind her, a faint magical breeze stirs the ivy along the library walls. A soft, unheard laugh carries with it.
Dakota (gritting her teeth):
“I swear, if Lys turns out to be some barefoot maternity cult dropout, I’m throwing myself into a ley line.”
