To the Esteemed Members of the Council of the Formulists:
I, Mengurion Maldridge, Former 56th Magister of the Council of the Formulists, do hereby attest that the following information is factual, objective, and true in its utmost entirety.
As you are well-aware, I was held hostage by the Voidweavers for a period of four weeks. During my captivity, I spent almost all of my time confined to a prison cell, in isolation and withdrawn from the outside world. I was, however, able to learn a fair amount of information from the whispers of guards and the few run-ins I had with various members of the Voidweavers. It is with a grave and heavy heart that, with undoubted certainty, I can confirm that they have returned to full operation to resurrect their former leader, Ganstin Remores, known by many different names, but most colloquially as the Void King. And at the current moment, he is alive.
The Voidweavers’ current leadership is in the hands of a woman. Referred to as the Dark Lady, she is actually the Void King inhabiting the body of Addisyn DeWinter, and is the igniting force that has now driven the Voidweavers back into existence across the lands of Banewind. At the time, it appears that the group is still in its infancy, but has been functioning in the shadows for the better part of the last decade. I do not know what is to come of their emergence, but there should be no doubt that this could lead to catastrophic ends if not properly dealt with immediately.
To make matters more complicated, there is a young woman, Genevieve DeWinter, the daughter of our beloved and heroic past Holy Guardian, Addisyn DeWinter, who I can verify by first-account witness, has the Paladin’s blood coursing through her veins. As I write this letter, one of our top priorities should be the safety of the girl. The Voidweavers seek to capture her as a means of breaking the Binding Spell that Addisyn DeWinter used to lock away the Void King’s body, thereby weakening him substantially by separating him from his physical form. The consequence of this forced Addisyn DeWinter to become imprisoned in the Void King’s body when they switched forms. But she was aware of what was happening and chose to do so in order to protect Banewind.
I fear that if they are able to succeed in her daughter’s capture, we will be doomed to suffer the same brutality of the Voidweavers’ wrath once more, as the Void King would be restored to his full power and form. Make no mistake, history has shown that there is always more blood to be spilled…a world to be asphyxiated as before.
Miss DeWinter has already made allies with multiple Formulists, and it is with good faith that I can confidently say the St. Clair Family has volunteered to keep the girl safe. I have already spoken with Gerard St. Clair, Co-Chancellor on the Council of the Formulists, who has graciously agreed to personally watch over the girl for the next several months. Of course, given the complexity of this situation, details are still being worked out, which is why I write this letter to you.
I ask that a meeting of the Council of the Formulists takes place with Mr. St. Clair to create a detailed plan to alleviate the acute issues brought before us. Unfortunately, I am indisposed at the time, dealing with another thread unraveling from this tapestry, and I will not be returning to Quam’Naldon any time soon to reconvene with the Council. As such, please consider this letter a formal legal decree, and follow through with the appropriate accommodations.
I will be in touch as soon as possible. Until then, all my best, and keep alert with wary eyes.
Warm regards,
Mengurion Wilmott Maldridge
Former 56th Magister of the
Council of the Formulists
Jensen folds the letter in half once he finishes reading, and runs his fingers across the crease multiple times as the words turn over in his head. He finally hands it over to Sadie, who is sitting next to him on the couch in her living room.
“As you can see, Maldridge insults the Council with his scathing words, making us appear inept, as though we’re merely sitting around twiddling our thumbs.” The man across from Jensen scoffs.
As he shifts in his chair, the material of his golden cloak ruffles beneath him, like waterfalls tumbling to the floor. He sits erect, with his hands positioned on his knees, as though he is ready to jump up at any moment.
“I think you’re misinterpreting the letter’s intent, Thaddeus,” another man says, in a gentle voice.
He sits next to Thaddeus in a matching chair, but with a much calmer demeanor. He is wearing a charcoal gray suit, with his hands folded in his lap. The ceiling’s light reflects off his newly shined black shoes.
“Personally, I don’t find any ill-will in Magister Maldridge’s letter. What I do see, quite obviously, is a real fear for what has already transpired.”
“Ex-Magister, Gerard,” Thaddeus says, through gritted teeth. “Don’t let that senile old fool trick you into thinking he has real power anymore. The man is frail and weak. He was removed from the position for good reason. And in my opinion, I see this as just a pathetic attempt at acting out for attention. He’s desperate to relive his glory days and embarrass me along the way.”
“With all due respect, Magister Loring,” Sadie says, once she finishes reading the letter. “I politely disagree. I have known Mengurion Maldridge for almost my entire life, as have many, and there isn’t a malicious bone in his body. He is in no way trying to undermine your authority. And as Gerard has already said, his concerns are legitimate, especially if the Void King is already here in the form of Addisyn DeWinter, or the Dark Lady, or whatever you want to refer to him as.”
“Did you not listen to anything I said over the last hour?” Jensen says. “What more evidence could you possibly need?”
“Jensen,” Gerard says, in a stern tone.
“Sorry, Dad, but it’s true.” Jensen throws himself back into the couch and folds his arms across his chest. “You guys weren’t there for any of it.”
“Yes, another dubious point that your son raises.” Thaddeus rubs his silver goatee and turns to a woman in a red dress, standing next to him. “Trixie, you have transcribed all of Mister Saint Clair’s extravagant tale, have you not?”
“Every word, Magister.” The woman wears a Cheshire grin.
The fire-hydrant red lipstick and matching red curly hair that sits piled on top of her head is a stark contrast to her snow-white complexion. In front of her sits an antique typewriter, balanced on a slim, high-top table. She stands behind it, poised, with her red high heels pressing deep into the oriental rug that adorns Sadie’s floor. As her fingers nimbly pound the keys, the constant click-clack echoes around the room. When she presses the button to reset the machine, the letters on the page peel off and float into the air, disappearing like tiny sparks as the page becomes blank once more.
“It is quite the tale, indeed,” she says.
“It’s not a tale. It’s the truth,” Jensen growls, starting to rise from the couch.
Sadie presses her hand to his shoulder. He catches her gaze as she shakes her head, and sighs deeply before relaxing back down on the cushion.
“Know that I say these things not to give you a hard time, or to belittle what you report. But rather, it is because this is my rightful duty as Magister. I need to make sure that the Council is armed with the appropriate—and unbiased—information. Why, we don’t need to incite a civilian riot for no good reason, do we?” Thaddeus places his fingertips together in front of his pale face and furrows his brow. “No.” He sighs, shaking his head. “We wouldn’t want that.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, I do,” Gerard says. “But Thaddeus, you have to admit that these reports are concerning. And while you might not have completed an official investigation on it, precautions should still be taken.” He pauses, waiting for Thaddeus to reply, but nothing is said. “So as Maldridge alluded to in his letter, I have agreed to work on keeping Miss DeWinter safe—separate from my Council duties—and with the intention of not letting it interfere with my normal workflow.” He gestures to Sadie. “Sadie has already been helping with the girl these last few weeks, and she has agreed to continue to do so. My family as well is willing to lend a hand in whatever way they can. I can assure you, it will not take any of the Council’s time if you agree to this.”
“What you tell me has no bearing on whether or not I agree to something, Gerard,” says Thaddeus. “I am the Magister. And although I might hear your opinion or listen to your suggestions, the ultimate say is mine entirely. Do I make myself clear?”
“Now, now. There’s no need to raise your voice,” Gerard says. “I respect your leadership position, but let’s not forget this is still a democracy, Thaddeus. The Council, I’m sure, would love to have an input on this subject as well. And if you don’t approach them on this as a serious inquiry…well, I might just have to file a grievance against you.” His lips curl into a faint smile. “And I’m sure that’s something you’d rather avoid, am I correct?”
Thaddeus’s face burns red. “Are you threatening me, Chancellor Saint Clair?”
“I’m sorry if that’s how you interpret it.”
Silence dances through the room.
Thaddeus stands. “I will look into this. But as I am sure you are aware, the Council has already listened to the tales woven by your son and Miss Hawthorne. It is highly doubtful their feelings will have changed. That being said, you may do what you will for the time being, with the caveat that you do not waste Formulist resources, or have it interfere with your routine work.” He turns to Jensen. “My son, Thomas Loring, I’m sure you’re aware, is head of administration at the Formulists’ Institution of Academia and Educational Pursuit. He will no doubt want to meet Miss DeWinter. Especially if she claims to be what you say. I will arrange for this to happen in the near future. Will that be an issue?”
“I—”
“No, not at all.” Gerard remains focused on Thaddeus as he rises from his chair and holds out his hand. “Thank you, Magister. I truly appreciate you taking the time to consider this and meet with us.”
Thaddeus wavers before clasping Gerard’s hand.
“As I said, I do care for the safety of my people.” Thaddeus briefly shakes his hand before pulling away. “I’ll be in touch.” He turns to Trixie and nods. “Miss LeRoux?”
“Ready, Magister.” She taps on the typewriter.
The high-top table jumps to life and folds in on itself multiple times, engulfing the machine as it morphs into a slim briefcase. It hovers in the air until Trixie grabs its handle.
Sadie guides them up the staircase.
“Oh, and Gerard?” Thaddeus calls, once he reaches the second floor.
His silver ponytail slashes through the air as he turns his head around to glare down at Gerard and Jensen, who are standing in the living room.
“I’ll be waiting for you to screw up.”
They disappear into the hallway’s darkness.
“What an idiot.” Jensen plops back down onto the couch.
“A common theme among people in power.” Gerard strolls over to the whiskey decanter and pours a drink. “You get used to it.”
“You believe me, right?” Jensen says. “About everything that happened? With Valkryn and the Void Keep and all that?”
“Of course I do.” Gerard’s brown eyes crease as he smiles at Jensen. “Even if Mengurion Maldridge hadn’t corroborated what you said, you’ve never been one to lie to me. Now on the other hand, your siblings…” He laughs, then takes a sip of whiskey and sighs. “I don’t like this, though. It’s all very…unsettling.”
“They’re gone,” Sadie calls down, as she begins to descend the stairs.
“Sure they’re not hanging back to spy on us?” Jensen moans.
“I watched them disappear through the portal myself. Almost had half a mind to shove them.” Sadie sighs. “I don’t like this.”
“That’s what Dad just said.”
“Yeah, well, Thaddeus Loring is perhaps going to go down in history as the worst Magister yet.” She shakes her head. “I don’t understand politics. Who in his or her right mind would give that man authority?”
“Ignoramuses.” Gerard rubs the side of his graying brown hair before resting his chin on his fist. “But we don’t have the luxury of ethical considerations at the moment.”
“So…what’s the plan?” Jensen says.
“The plan is to do exactly as we said.” Gerard takes another sip of his drink. “Keep Genevieve safe.”
“And how are we supposed to do that when she’s living at home with her family?”
“Leave that to me, Jensen.” Sadie glances at Gerard. “I’ve already discussed this with your father. She’ll reside here in my home, with me.”
Jensen frowns.
“And you, of course.”
“And the rest of the Saint Clair family,” Gerard says.
“Huh?”
“Your mother can keep tabs on things at the Academy, and I’m going to send your siblings to come help out.”
Jensen starts to speak.
“And before you object, this is nothing against you. Trust me, I am very grateful for what you and Sadie have already done. And a fine job it’s been. But we are moving into territory that is extremely dangerous. This is something that is not to be handled on an individual basis.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry.” Sadie smiles. “There’s plenty of room for everybody here. It’ll be fine.”
“That’s it?” Jensen says. “That’s the plan?”
Gerard shakes his head. “No. Obviously not. There are going to be a lot of moving parts to this. Genevieve will need proper training as a paladin, which is going to be another issue in itself. But I’m working on those details. And of course, there is the matter of the Voidweavers’ threat of doom.”
“That isn’t funny, Dad.” Jensen groans.
“I don’t mean it to be. I’m sure it will surprise you not the least to hear me say I have very little faith in the Council’s aid at the moment. Which means our city, and world, is going to be vulnerable. So further strings will need to be pulled.”
“You just heard Magister Loring,” Jensen says. “He sounds less than enthused to help out.”
“And that’s fine. Really, it’s better.”
“Yeah, okay. And what if he finds out? I mean, I don’t really trust the guy. Who knows what he’ll do if you disobey him.”
Gerard laughs. “Jensen, in my fifty-eight years of life, I can assure you I have come across many worse individuals than Thaddeus Loring. He is the epitome of all bark and no bite. You learn how to…hmm, what am I trying to say? You learn how to properly muzzle those types of people, as necessary.”
Jensen lets the conversation turn over in his mind, nodding as he runs through it again and again.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay, yeah. This sounds good. What about Magister Maldridge? Do you know where he is right now?”
“Vaguely,” Gerard says. “Again, it’s just another level of complexity to this situation.”
“Is he still with Scythe?” Jensen says.
“Yes.”
Jensen waits. “And?”
“And nothing. That’s all you need to know.”
Jensen sighs. “I don’t understand the secrecy. First off, you tell us not to mention Scythe to anyone, including the Council. So why? And secondly, if we are all supposed to be working together, how does keeping anything hidden possibly make any sense?”
“I understand what you’re saying. And I agree. However, we have to wait for Maldridge and Scythe to finish doing what they’re doing before we give any more details. It’s just the way it is.”
Jensen turns to Sadie. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”
She pats his hand. “Your father is right. This isn’t the priority that you need to worry about, so just do your best to go with it, okay? I know that’s hard.”
Jensen sighs. “I’m going to lie down.”
“Good idea. We should all get some rest.” Gerard places his empty cup back on the tray. “I’ll be in touch shortly, Sadie. Will you be ready for us by the end of next week?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Perfect.” Gerard’s face radiates the warmth and confidence he always projects. “This will work. Everything is going to be okay.”
Jensen can’t help but notice his father isn’t looking them in the eyes as he speaks.