Twins, 1st 199ne

This is all wrong, Magister. The Order of Sophia used to be about something. We had Principals. It was a simpler time. I fondly look back on our days in Faemoor, at the Magus society college. You were valedictorian and an obvious choice for initiation- but you made them take me as well, told them they couldn't have one without the other. You have always been and remain my truest friend.

How I long for our fireside discourses on magick and history, your charming smile, tender caresses. Your gentle yet mighty thrusts into my bottom… ah to revisit those blissful days.

Following your... disagreement with Magister Mordred we both left the Order and it was only at your behest that I have returned years later behind the ruse of having cut all ties with you. They are no longer calling it the Order you know- now we are known as the Magi of the... Hidden City... The experiments, the things they're making us do are wrong. Wrong and terrible. I still hear voices in my head when I try to sleep. The screams... the pleas, and laughter. Terrible laughter.

They're trying to bring them into this world. The Magi from Faemoor are coming tomorrow for the grand experiment. Magister I know not what will transpire, but I have a dreadful feeling about all of this----

Hail Eris, Hail Sophia,

Kennith Weatherby