Mint

The 35th day of Rest

To the resplendent Prime Minister Alfred Mothdon of Acontia,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wish I could be writing under different circumstances, but alas. Please consider this my official confession.

I, Ophelia Patricia Magdan, former Chief Director of Architecture for the Acontian Department of Magical Structures, am guilty of theft (if you can call it that), the disruption of an officially sanctioned project, and of practicing forbidden crafting. I do not wish to make excuses, but you see, I feel as though I should shed light on the circumstances that led to my crimes.

Mint was my familiar. She had been at my side since the early days, long before the construction of the great realm of Acontia. Before the reliance on the Department of Magical Structures. As you no doubt know, she helped in the creation of many of the structures in the realm today, including the office you are currently sitting in. She was not only my colleague, she was my companion and dearest friend.

On the 16th day of Harvest, she was attacked by a badger near our home in the Everlor Forest. Of this, I am sure you are aware, as I’d sent you the eulogy invitation. I’m including these details in the letter to ensure there are no misunderstandings should it go to record. It was a shame you couldn’t make it.

After Mint’s passing, I was… distraught. I couldn’t bear to exist in our home, the realm we built together, or this world without her. Our home and haven became my prison; My hell. In the throes of my despair, a thought came to me like a beacon of blessed light. If I could just get back my tourmaline orb I could bring her back. If anyone could, it would be me. Only, the calling of specific familiars was outlawed long ago. Forbidden. I never understood why it was acceptable to call familiars at random, but not individuals. I suppose it’s to further regulate which witch’s souls return to our world. Wouldn’t want a familiar too powerful to control, after all. I digress.

I couldn’t let anything stop me. I had to try; Her death was my fault. I was supposed to ensure the clearing was safe before she went out to gather herbs. I was so confident that it was fine, that I cleared away all threats the day before. My overconfidence had killed her. When she didn’t return after nightfall, I went out to search for her. I stumbled my way through the dark forest, calling her name, mistook every snap of a twig or call of an owl for her. When I finally found her body in a clearing, it was ravaged, torn asunder. Gashes from a badger claw raked across her soft belly, shoulders, and throat.

I’m not sure how long I’d stood there staring at the brown, orange, and black shreds of what was left. I do recall grabbing the small azurite orb I keep in my pockets and threading her body back together. It took less than an hour. The body she occupied was so small without her tremendous presence. She could have fought the vermin, but her heart wouldn’t have allowed that. She truly was far too kind for her own good.

I planned and held the modest eulogy in a haze. I don’t remember much of the details, only the very few who came bearing their condolences. Perhaps you could have filled me in if you had attended.

I came to you after days of painstakingly formulating the spell that would call her soul and bind it to a new body. I graciously requested the return of my tourmaline orb that I could have easily obtained without your permission, which was crafted for me by the late Grand Lapidarist Jareth, may his soul linger peacefully in the Permarealm. This was some time before you were born, so I can excuse your lack of understanding the gravity of that gift. Jareth did not make his orbs for just anyone, you see. Because of the regulations enforced on orb usage after The Collision, I was given no choice in relinquishing my orb to the Acontian Orb Retainment Center after my retirement. Such a powerful tool could not be left unrestricted, I suppose.

When you denied my request, I did what I felt I had to do. The orb was being used for a project to expand The Belt encircling the realm, and was being held at the Western Summit facility. If you had not thought I would enchant my orb with a tracking spell, you are surely regretting that now. I had no problem locating or sneaking into the facility to collect it. I simply used my small onyx orb for concealment and walked right in. I highly suggest you upgrade your security methods; They are severely lacking.

After securing my orb, I needed to find a replacement body and a location far enough away to perform the high-caliber spell I’d written. Finding a cat was a rather easy task as well. There are so many strays slinking around in the streets of Lower Magnolia. Another issue that I would suggest putting effort into. It was saddening to find only one healthy cat among dozens. I can’t help but wonder if the neglect of our beloved house mates is yet another ploy to snatch power from witches. Anyway, the cat I secured (a tabby, not the calico that Mint had fused with before) didn’t matter as much, as long as it would survive the spell. With tabby and orb in tow, I swept away on my broom to a space in the Everlor Forest that I knew was secluded enough to perform the spell; A clearing near an abandoned shrine. I’m sure you will find it quite easily if you bother to look. It wasn’t just for secrecy that I had picked that location. Safety of the general public was of importance to me as well. I know you are giving me a look through the paper. I do care. Though, I must admit it would have been a shame to destroy all of the hard work Mint and I put in building that realm of yours. No matter.

After setting up the circle in the clearing and placing the caged cat in the middle, I performed the spell with the orb. I admit that the spell was risky, and that I was in a state of desperation. Perhaps if I were clear-headed at the time, Mint would be here with me, and I wouldn’t feel so wretched. I might not have even felt inclined to write this letter. As it stands, the spell failed. I used so much power that the orb burst into a spray of sparkling dust, and the cat scurried away unscathed from the mangled cage.

Mint was gone for good. Is gone for good.

It has been four months since that incident. After much consideration, I decided to write this letter. It is both a confession and a goodbye. As much as I’m sure I would enjoy imprisonment, with the solitude and free meals and all, I will do us all a favor and leave the glorious realm of Acontia behind me. I will not be divulging my whereabouts. There is no need for you to look for me.

I sincerely wish you and all of Acontia the best. May you be blessed and prosper.

Signed,

Ophelia Patricia Magdan