He greeted me with a heavy sigh and handed me the scepter. As he held it out, the air around us stretched and bent towards my grasp. The air remained deformed, binding us. I now know this to be his wand, which I continued to direct toward the ground. He spoke without moving his crooked lips. The channels of dust and white smoke that connected us now allow for a kind of telepathy. In this way, we have learned about each other. I’ve since come to know this figure well. He goes by Vau or Link or Hook, Fold, Sense, or even Dissipation. I just call him Magus.