EPISODE 2: The Order of Wormwood
Illusionist Reginald Black, shaken by his ominous dream - a lone figure standing in a field, blood raining from a crimson sky, and believing it a harbinger of the end of the world, penned a letter to “The Great” Banerjee.
In that letter, Reginald proposed the creation of an alliance to stand against a growing darkness. It would take weeks for the correspondence to reach Constantinople, where Banerjee, who was now traveling with his young nephew, Veera Sarin, seven at the time, and a prodigious medium in his own right, skilled in clairvoyance, telepathy, and telekinesis. Together, uncle and nephew toured with the Herrmann Brothers’ Medicine Show. The death of Banerjee’s former master, “The Astounding” Vexmoor, a year prior, had left him untethered. Taking it as a prime opportunity to mentor his kin, giving the budding sorcerer an education on the road.
Banerjee was a well-regarded Hindu Brahmin, or priest, who was also a powerful mantrik. Born in India in 1827, he was the seventh son of a seventh daughter -- born with genuine magical powers. Becoming aware of his ability as a necromancer at an early age, he was able to heal others, commune with spirits, and manipulate ethereal plains -- the worlds between the living and the dead. As a boy, he’d talk with dead relatives, learning of the rich history his family claimed in the realm of magic.
In his homeland, Banerjee was revered as a “sacred child”, but to the Imperialist British, he was a novelty, snatched from his parents and paraded through the empire as a sideshow. As eluded to in Reginald’s correspondence, because magic, at that time, was considered fantasy, those who were born with abilities, especially those belonging to races falling outside of Anglo-Saxon, were met with prejudice. While some resided in parts of the world where the supernatural was revered and respected, those living in colonized countries were forced to practice their crafts in secret. But in Banerjee’s case, his magic was so powerful, the crown paired him with a series of old stage magicians, acting as a young assistant, performing actual magic to wow crowds, and of course, make money. In the act, the illusionists would take credit for the supernatural feats Banerjee would conjure -- the pairing was known as a mountebank-pact.
While Banerjee’s subjugation was a form of servitude, it allowed him to further study magic and keep his skills sharp while not having the burden of being ostracized or worse, because of the color of his skin. And by the 1860s, in hushed circles, his name was synonymous with being an expert in “real” magic.
Receiving Reginald Black’s letter, Banerjee was alarmed to hear of the troubling visions the illusionist was having, as he, himself, had the same exact dreams...Banerjee, with Veera in tow, secured passage on a merchant ship bound for Britain.
The pair joined forces, striking up a fast friendship, united by a shared purpose: to confront the rising darkness that threatened to unravel their world, even if they had no earthly idea where it would start, or by whom.
Using the familiar framework of the mountebank-pact, Reginald and Banerjee created a secret society consisting of real practitioners of magic, who would guise themselves as performers to strengthen their abilities, en masse, to one day defend mankind against these forces of evil. Known as the ORDER OF WORMWOOD, the clandestine fraternity was made up of two types of members...
FACES, those who were run-of-the-mill illusionists and stage performers, skilled only in the art of deception...
And HANDS, those born with innate magic, whose true powers could tip the balance between light and shadow.
Together, a Face and a Hand would be paired to make up a magic act. The Face, being the headlining magician, usually a male of English descent, the stereotypical illusionist...And the Hand, assuming the role of the quiet assistant. In reality, Hands would execute real magic, while the Face distracted the audience. Together, these acts would travel from city to city, dazzling audiences with spectacles that seemed impossible, and sparking a true renaissance in the appreciation of the art of magic, even if crowds believed it artificial...And with each performance, the Order of Wormwood quietly grew stronger.
Their sanctuary would be Reginald’s walled estate - Black Manor. And the sect’s secretive nature added to the intrigue of the Order of Wormwood. With rumors and urban legends proliferating about what sort of sorcery went on inside. The Order did little to stop the stories. Mystery, after all, was part of the magic.
CHILDREN SINGING: They meet in the dark, in a castle on Essex. Chanting and whaling, and casting their hexes. Friends of the devil, or misunderstood. The masters of magic, the Order of Wormwood.
For decades, the Order quietly strengthened its cause and deepened its ranks, believing that only through numbers and secrecy, could they withstand the darkness when it finally came. Each member, Face or Hand, would swear an oath, a vow of secrecy, that the true purpose of the Order was never to be spoken, not even to family. For Reginald, that vow extended to his wife, Diane, and their son, Orem. Both kept in the dark about the goings-on in their own home.
Though bound by his vow, Reginald had long hoped to one day bring his son into the fold. He gently steered Orem to pursue the life of an illusionist, believing that through the craft, his son would earn his way into the Order, and, in time, come to understand the deeper truths behind it.
But in the fall of 1872, something broke between their bond, centered around the sudden death of Diane. The aftermath of her passing was a slow emotional collapse in the relationship between father and son. With Reginald seeking solace in a bottle, a lifelong struggle of his. And Orem withdrawing, rejecting his father’s legacy, believing the Order of Wormwood to be a glorified drinking club for sleight-of-hand artists...and one that selfishly demanded all of his father’s attention.
The embitterment eventually led to estrangement, and Orem chose a different path, leaving London, as soon as he was old enough, to join the British Army.
The vow to protect the Order at all costs and to keep loved ones at a careful distance, had once been seen as noble, even necessary. But in time, it would prove to be Reginald’s most tragic misjudgment. A preventable wound that would echo far beyond his death in 1888, leaving scars not just on his legacy, on the Order, but also altering Orem’s life forever.
Still, the Order endured, remaining a formidable force, disciplined, secretive, and brimming with power. But behind the confidence lay uncertainty. For all their strength, they remained untested. The darkness that had haunted Reginald and Banerjee’s dreams, had yet to reveal itself. Now others members were having the same visions. But the mystery would persist, as still no one could make out the identity of the figure in the field.
TO BE CONTINUED…