Rule Britannica

[arcanus]

Portman Square - London - The Astral Mirror.
The study was lit only by a dim flickering gaslight mounted upon the only one of its wood clad walls not adorned with musty books, display cases or the fireplace.

Keats blinked awake his latest heavy tome having slumped onto his chest, he groggily looked around at the grey twilight, a gesture acompanied by a murmured incantation saw the fire reignited, banishing the shadows with its warm orange tones.

Gingerly he stood working the kinks from his back and crossed to the sideboard, using the residue from his rote to reheat the coffee jug and sipped back a hot shot of Blue Mountain, instinctively his senses extended, his Mobile Coelestis Machina was still drawing small amounts of Telluric Energy from one of the unnoticed Fonts branching from the St Pauls Ley Line.

The Mobile in turn powered his little domain within Londons Astral Mirror, protected by a Greater Sigil crafted by Keats himself.
Another small incantation and a wave of energetic wakefullness coursed from his toes to his scalp, feeling decidely more awake Keat's sensed turbulence outside, his astral sanctum was a modest affair a crafting of the south east corner of an otherwise grey mirror of his material world townhouse.

His craft although formidable in its own right, he still had much to learn of the mysteries before he could fashion a realm, however his proficiency did allow a well fortified and hidden study, craft chamber and bell tower above, the tower he now made his way up its spiral stone steps into its belfry.

He looked out across the grey prenumbra of Londons mirror, he noted only city spirits flitting around no echoes of the material world occupants, however it was blowing a gale, pieces of aetheric energy and flotsam darted around on strong lashing winds, the Mysteries of Force were strong within the storms pattern.

A horizon storm blowing from shallows or thin places between the etheric plane, nether worlds and the mirror, there were reports that some form of greater storm was building across the Atlantic, perhaps this was its fingers stretching across oceans and worlds.

He was roused from watching the debris strike the bell towers windows, by the ringing of another bell, his doorbell, he frowned a visitor at this late hour, with that he descended back downstairs and towards the door to sleeping London.

[arcanus]

114 Portman Square - London
Keats heard the bell continuing to ring as he stepped out of a circle carved into the floorboards of his Material Realm study.
"Alright, alright" he grumbled, as the door opened following a short knock, his valet stood smiling, Keats looked expectantly
"Visitors of import sir"
"Very well Arthur, tell them I'll be down in 10 minutes or so, need to freshen up"
"Very good sir" replied the valet closing the door as he backed out
Keats went through an adjacent door into his bedroom and ensuite, washed and changed his shirt, he made his way downstairs into the lounge, where he found two men waiting, one a heavy-set Snark, standing near his bay window the other sat in one of his armchairs.

"Gentlemen, what can I do for you at this late hour?"
The Snark didn't respond just opened the curtains a fraction to check outside, whilst the seating man stood and offered his hand
"Our apologies for intruding at this very unsociable hour, Mr Keats"
Keats shook the mans hand, feeling a tremor of power as he did so, "By way of introductions" continued the sitting man, returning to his seat
"I know who you are sir, Mr John Maskelyne, debunker of cheats and frauds, formidable card sharp, paranormal investigator and inventor if the society pages are doing you justice" interjected Keats, stepping across to his drinks cabinet "And the last person I expected to visit my house"
Maskelyne smiled, nodding to the Snark who excused himself tipping his hat as he did so
"The house of a member of the Order of The Golden Dawn"
"Quite so" replied Keats, opening a decanter
"Which is precisely why I am here Mr Keats, I am a debunker of frauds not practioners, I am here on official business requiring the utmost discretion"
Keats poured his guest a brandy, handing it across he sat a quizzicle frown crossing his face.
"You are a practioner yourself Mr Maskelyne?" asked Keats cautiously
"Only Ceremonial Incantation Mr Keats, I understand nothing compared to your command of the art"
Keats narrowed his eyes suspiciously "So a Theurgia, rather than Magi, thats still accomplished for a debunker and paranormal investigator"
Maskelyne smiled knowingly "Worry not Mr Keats I do not serve the Guild!"
"You are aware that there is a war of sorts, between parties I myself are allied with and the Guild"
"Yes, a battle for the very soul of our great country" replied Maskelyne
"So whom is it you represent Sir?" replied Keats
The visitor gathered himself, looking up his smile was tight "The Queen sir"

Keats blinked, his mouth agape, shaking his head he stood staring at the man "The Head of The Newtonian Guild itself, the Britannic Order of Magic, the enemy of freedom!" he snarled
Maskelyne looked thoughtful allowing a brief silence to extend between them, after a moment he quietly continued
"Which is why I am here Mr Keats, the matter is delicate, extremely delicate and concerning something that the Guild will not even consequate, a matter that very much needs your expertise!"

[arcanus]

114 Portman Square - London
Keats stood his arm resting on the corner of the lounges Georgian mantlepiece, his other hand swirling his tumbler of brandy, allowing himself a moment to consider what had been said before returning his gaze to the quietly patient John Maskelyne.
"It is undoubtably prudent for us to continue our discussions in more prvate settings!" he said meaningfully
"Where ever you think best Mr Keat's, I am at your disposal"
"Very well" he replied, in the blink of an eye he had traced a symbol in the air and the Queens Man slumped asleep in the armchair

A House upon a Beach Somewhere
John Maskleyne jolted awake, he was still sitting but now in a rattan weave reclining chair, to his right he looked out over a grey sea splashing across some rock pools and washing up onto a moonlit beach, they were in a wrought iron conservatory, opposite him stood Keat's who was pouring another round of drinks.
He blinked slightly confused "Where are we, Bogna Regis"
"Not quite" replied Keat's "And as our Prince Edward is prone to say bugger Bogna, no somewhere much more remote" he smiled
He handed a glass to Maskelyne "So you were going to somehow persuade me that for some unimaginable reason I should consent to help the figurehead of the oppressor"
Maskelyne took a sip of the brandy finding the burn comforting as he swallowed, shaking the grogginess from his head
"You are aware of the impact that the Death of Prince Albert had upon Her Majesty"
"That she has been in a state of perpetual mourning ever since, but that was over twenty years ago!"
"Yes, but that is only a part of matters, his death profoundly shook Her Majesty and her confidence in the Guild"
"I am sorry Mr Maskelyne but that dosen't align with her conduct or policies either before his passing or since, every indication has been her full and unequivicable support for both the Guild Chapters and the Royal Society, the Conclave, its advance and and suppression of what it deems rogue magic and science, just look at the Templars and their treatment of Conjure Folk!"
"Yes I can appreciate that would be the exterior view"
Keat's raised an eyebrow

"The Queen has always had a keen understanding of the greater powers, ever since a young age, obviously neither she nor Albert exhibited the talent, although its arguable neither would have become monarchs if they had, and it is true she has supported them, they have represented progress, the advancement of British interests and society, the betterment of her subjects"
"I don't want to be crass or uncharitable however this is the monarch who allows workhouses, the existence of Rookerys, children working in factories and the restriction of science and magic to the chosen few, need I go on!"
"Granted, however even the Queen cannot right every inequality or depravity, hence her support of the Conclave, I am not for a moment saying that their motives are in anyway just nor their methods pleasant"
Keat's nodded in acceptance "So you are saying the ends justify the means"
"If you like yes" replied Maskelyne
"Since Cromwell's time certain parties, human parties have been aware of the existance of inhuman forces that are very real but at the time were beyond the Mirror and some that exert influence over areas of society, in the past this knowledge has directly or indirectly been used to coerce English Monarchs, notably James the 1st ad his hated of Witches"
"But this knowledge only gained potency since the First Mystrial and the return of Etheric forces to the Material realm" added Maskelyne
"Are you referring to monsters or other Magi?" asked Keats
"Both Mr Keats and creatures from the other side"
Keats chuckled "Mr Maskelyne I feel the need to repeat my slight incredularity, you are one of the nations greatest debunkers, are you saying you believe in ghouls and monsters"
"Yes, Mr Keats of course because I have seen these creatures with my own eyes, despite the Newtonians and Templars claims to the public, after all why ratify the Longevity Act through parliament, anyway we digress"
Keats nodded
"Her Majesty like King William before her trusted the Guild to safeguard the Crown and work to safeguard the British people, from these things, in fact part of their credo is the elimination of those very threats"
"And innocent magicians."
"There is that yes, however her faith was never one hundred percent, from her ascent to the throne she had always felt that this protection came at a price and was entirely at the Conclavess whim, when it served their purpose, so she made arrangements, quietly gathering a small group of independant adepts and magi who would safeguard the Crown and similar experts who could ward off other threats, it was the only way she felt confident that her issue and The Crown would truly be safe and hopefully free of undue influence"
Keats sat listening intently, his chin resting upon his steepled fingers

Maskelyne continued "Alberts death shocked and scared her, he had been a leading proponent of the Conclave, going so far as to organise the Grand Exhibition and patronising both scientific and magical progress, despite this the guild did nothing to prevent or stop his illness and subsequent premature death"
"To be fair Mr Maskelyne they might have been unable, neither magic nor etheric science can cure everything, there are some maladies beyond both!"
"That is as maybe however Albert as liked as he was by the Conclave had also ruffled feathers with his suggestion of reunion with the European Guilds"
Keat's chuckled "Yes, I imagine the thought of working with the French or Prussian mage ir technocrats was bitterly unwelcome, can't share our secrets or conceded part of the Empire" he mused "I'd imagine the Iron Duke was equally displeased with the Prince!"
"Her Majesty feels they let him die" added Maskelyne
"So this is all very interesting but where does all this leave us"
The Queens man smiled "Following Albert's death, Her Majesty started to take an interest in spiritual matters, quietly of course as not to compromise her position, going as far as having some discreet seances at the Palace, this seems to have been viewed as part of her grieving and thats been the end of the matter"
"But is hasn't been hasn't it" said Keats curiously
"No, I am afraid not, given her knowledge and access to specialists she has gained a firm understanding of the otherside and the reality of the afterlife"
Keats frowned "You are referring to Deaths Mirror and The Between" he replied
"Ah I see you are aware of these things"
"I am more concerned with how you know of things sir, The Between is not common knowledge"
"But you are aware of these places Mr Keats?"
"Of course, the order has records spanning centuries as to these matters, although it is something we prefer to leave to other Lodges who's pursuits are more shall we say aligned to such distasteful areas, but continue"
Maskelyne flinched, his face troubled "Her understanding is that the realms of the Albion Between are governed by none other than Henry Tudor"
"Well there's a turn up for the books, but how does that trouble the Queen"
"It worries her on many fronts, the first is that she is reliably informed that Henry Tudor has a policy of imprisoning or even destroying subsequent British Monarchs who become ensnared within The Between, she worries about Albert and of course....."
Keats finished for him "Herself when she passes on, this must have shaken her faith enormously"
"Yes I am afraid it has on many fronts, it is one thing to find out that there is a place of purgatory before an afterlife and that British Royals seem to have a predelication to finding themselves there but then the horror that it is ruled by a despot, who during his reign had a policy of routinely executing not only his enemies but his friends and loved ones"
"Yes I can imagine that to be quite a jarring revelation, so to the matter at hand, although I fear I am not going to like the gist of it"
"She would like you to look into what could be done to safeguard her from Henry Tudor, determine what has become of her dear Albert and whether anything can be done to prevent her descending to the Between"
Keats sighed heavily "Mr Maskelyne, as I have said this is not my speciality or my Houses Craft, there are those much better placed"
"Undoubtably, however her view and I must confess mine is that they are cultists, ghouls or pagans, no she wants a practitioner of the high arts, old magic based on ritual and gravitas, an emminent member of the esteemed House of Hermes, there is also the matter of your good social standing, after all despite the emnity between your House and the Guild, you yourself are Guild licensed"

Keats looked unconvinced "And given all we have discussed about who she patronises, what would be the benefit?, the House would still be subject to the Guilds attacks and vagaries, Lodge Magi persecuted and hunted in the name of supposed safety and reason"
"Within reason you, the London House and notable persons of your endorsement would have the Queens favour"
"And if I refuse"
"Well the Crown is not above threats, but nothing Sir, this is an appeal for your help in good faith and dignity"
Keats stood and paced around the conservatory, for many long moments he wrestled with himself, his instincts were telling him no, but his conscience rallied against him "Very well Mr Maselyne, I will agree to look into matters for the good of the House of Hermes and its allied lodges if nothing else, but I can promise nothing, we are talking about the true forces of the tellurium, these may be inmovable, and the slightest signs of treachery and I can assure all concerned my wrath will have no bounds!"
"Understood Mr Keats you have Her Majestys solemn commitment that there will be no treachery from the Crown only a signficant debt to be repaid"

[arcanus]

The Mirror of Marylebone, Astral Space.
Part of Keat's proficiency in the Ars Spiritus was his ability to transit and control the medium of the near astral space, whereabouts it was not unheard of for Magisters of Hermes to learn the arts umbral they usually confined themselves to the Thought Plane or Nether Realms as the vulgar were want to describe it.
Although he had equal ability to ascend to the Nether, the spirit realms of the natural world were more imprinted in the memory of the earth and stone rather than man, as such they were more impermeable but with the correct combination escoteric knowledge and arcane arts malleable, which is how he had crafted his domain.

Another advantage was stealth, the Guild, notably the Templars and many of polite society magi scorned the natural realms as a place of monsters and primitive rural practioners to the extent it was even difficult for them to access said realms via their own order strictures.
This of course meant that the Wild Mirror had far less of the troublesome Conclave watchers or City Spirits and with the appropriate caution he could move relatively unseen.

It was in the early hours, that enshrouded with rituals and armed with his foci he set forth, his weavings drew the fabric of the realm around him, his hope that it would conceal him from any watchers and nature spirits that roamed the Mirror of Marylebone.

The Conclave were the pillars of hypocracy and elitism, whilst decrying witchcraft and attempting to strictly control the wonder of magic within the world, in reality they sought to confine Magic and Enlightened Power to whom they considered worthy, with a double tongee they broke their own rules, clandestinely using Scarlet Adepts and Mage as much as anyone else.
It was fortunate that factions within the Nobility and High Society such as the Eldren Nobles, the free aristocracy and the press pushed back, preventing their vision of absolute control and suppression, still the Conclave contented itself with quiet persecution usually of the lower classes.
Afterall every Conjureman or Cut Wife was a Necromancer in their eyes, when usually they were just surviving and providing a little healing to their communities.

He stopped and became still as a large scarecrow like figure omninously shuffled into view as they both reached a raod junction, of course the challenge with the Mirror of London was that due to the depravations of the Empire, his own brethren and the enormous misery of the majority of Londons citizens its background count was frequently tainted.

He was wary of the danger of the Straights or Wild Magic, although High Practioners had greater control and reserves of Quintessance they weren't immune especially with the taint, displaying an abundance of caution he remained still until it moved on.
He quickly made his way through the deserted shadowry streets, spirit flotsam billowed across the cobbled streets, the Mirror was a strange place, mans constructions appeared here as echoes, older more memorable buildings and monuments often held greater or a longer lasting impression and so the Mirror was a mixture of facimilies of victorian london, pre-fire of London Carolian and even Roman buildings.

He reached Regents Park its echo a wild unruly place, it being a green space Mother Nature had ensured it remained feral, however for expedience he had little choice but to enter, it held the keystones he needed to reach his destination.

[arcanus]

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