Mother, Father, Svitlana,
This year at Hancock promises to be even more interesting (if potentially life-threatening) than the last. The energetic upswing the clan has noticed appears to be an accelerating trend, at least in the local vicinity. Exposure to the concentration accessible here has had… side effects. I’ve enclosed photos so you can judge for yourself.
Yes, those are freckles. Simon has declared them cute. I haven’t stabbed him. Yet.
Photo #2 is our current physics teacher; Mr. Stafford is on sabbatical, for his health. (Mental health. No, it was not Simon’s fault. This time.) I find that ironic, given I strongly suspect Stafford may be a reincarnation of Matal Mogamett. But then, some things are best left buried.
If you would look into any rumors or history of an alchemist known as Callimachus, I would appreciate it. I think he’s had enough exposure to our local Kings to have had some of the venomous edges taken off, but we would all appreciate more information.
Yes, I said Kings. Simon has a protégé.
(If you let the Elders read this, you probably want to leave your earplugs in for at least the first five minutes of hysteria. Or until after you tell them it could be worse. Seriously, of all the souls that could have been reborn into this age….)