Faded Script

    "Curator Belium," yells the novice down the hall, his speed not causing slight flickers in the illusionary sconces.  "You have mail!  Actual snail mail!"  The light ironically casts no shadows for members of the caucus, a subtle protective measure put in place by the Curator and other assisting Obrimos.

    Belium turns around, his face bright with honest surprise since there are few channels the caucus receives physical communication through anymore.  With her ascendence to Curator more than a decade ago, most communication had become electronic or supernal, but always esoteric.

    "From who?" she says amused.  The novice hesitates for a moment, then admits, "I can't tell.  I did all the divinations I can think of, but ..."  He hands Belium the letter, a simple unassuming envelope, with a slight static shock passing between them during the handover.  "I'm sorry," he says with a gentle smile as she accepts the paper.

    Belium passes her hand across the envelope, her face creasing in ways the novice had never seen before, making him uneasy.  To him, the envelope glows slightly with a blue light, but nothing more.  Her creases disappear as she returns her attention to him.  "I need to investigate this.  Good job", she says before turning away and heading to her study, her flat boots making a heavy thud against the stonework floor of the hall.

    The subsonic vibration given by the lock of her private study filled Belium with comfort.  Finally alone she didn't need to conceal the giddy joy she felt at receiving this missive from a respected senior member of the order.  She went to her stock of material regents and found the tiny vial of Hermium given to her by the assumed writer.  She slipped her hands into enchanted silk gloves to assure delicacy, gently dipping a golden quill into the liquid.  She began to intone the celestial notes necessary to remove the wards set upon the envelope, drawing the solution to the ward's key in the air just above the rectangular paper.

    The wards dissolved and the illusion disappeared, revealing a simple sigil on the back of the envelope.  "What must I do?" she said out loud in a clear voice to the empty room.  The chair in the corner of the room tilted once, then twice, creating a one-then-two pattern of knocks.  She couldn't couldn't help her smile broadening, feeling she was closer to solving the key and receiving the message.  She whispered into the envelope, "knock once, then twice," her breath catching in her chest as she waited for the response.

The chair stopped moving and the seemingly simple glue of the envelope was suddenly gone, allowing her to gently remove it's contents.