The Whole Splendid Buisness

It is a well-established fact, much like the regrettable tendency of aunts to meddle in the affairs of their nephews, that every child, upon reaching the ripe old age of twelve, must undergo what is known in the better circles as simply The Test or the Splendid Test. This little ceremony determines whether young Egbert or Augustus has the requisite aptitude for communing with the magical gemstone Splendidium, or whether the poor blighter is doomed to a life of what one might call dull respectability in the civil service—the last resort of many non-Splendid chaps and chapets.

Now, a Splendid, as the cognoscenti will tell you, is a person blessed with the rather topping ability to detect, manipulate, and generally perform the most wizard stunts with this particular gemstone. The range of talent varies wildly—some can merely sense the stuff, which is useful in a limited, truffle-hound sort of way, while others handle it with effortless grace.

At the lower end of the scale, a chap might perform such modest parlour tricks as animating a door to swing open upon detecting one's presence. At the upper end of the spectrum, a true maestro of the art can imbue an entire country house with sentient life, ensuring that the drawing-room never misplaces the good Scotch again, which, as any gentleman will tell you, is the height of convenience.

The Four Grand Degrees of Splendid Animation

The application of Splendidium follows a strict hierarchy, much like the peerage, except with fewer gout-ridden barons.

Simple Animation (approx 5 stones) – The baseline of all Splendid workings, don't you know. At this stage, one is merely causing an object to move about under its own steam—chairs that toddle obediently into place, carpets that roll themselves up at bedtime, and that species of thing. 

Complex Animation (approx 100 stones) – The point at which things become, as one might say, moderately more intriguing. Here, a sword may extend its blade mid-swing to swat multiple opponents in one go, or a rifle might discharge not mere bullets, but lethal vampire bats, ensuring that the recipient of one's displeasure is both perforated and drained of the vital fluids in one efficient operation. I remember my Uncle George had a walking stick that could transform into a ladder when he needed to steal apples — an example of this principle at work, though admittedly not one that would find favor in the better Splendid circles.

Life Instincts (approx 500 stones) – This is where things take a turn for the truly sporting. A motor-car, for example, might be imbued with the essence of a racehorse, ensuring that it gallops along the thoroughfares with all the vim and vigor of its four-legged counterpart. Similarly, a shield might develop the reflexes of a well-trained gentleman's gentleman, leaping into action to deflect blows whilst allowing one's hands to remain free for the important business of clouting one's foes about the ears or, in more peaceful circumstances, raising a glass of the needful.

Achieving this level of Splendid ability requires a great deal of study—one cannot simply wave a hand at a motorcar and expect it to develop the manners of a thoroughbred without first spending several dreary afternoons studying both the rituals and racetrack.

Sentient Life (approx 2000 stones) – The pinnacle of Splendid mastery, attempted only by the most dazzling of the breed, the sort of chap who gets invited to the best houses. This is where one moves from merely animating an object to bestowing it with full-blown thought, personality, and opinions—which, while impressive, does come with the risk of saddling oneself with a wardrobe that refuses to house unfashionable trousers or a hat that sulks if taken to the wrong sort of party. My cousin Claude once animated his motorcar to such a degree that it refused to start unless he was wearing a matching tie and pocket square. Dashed inconvenient on rainy days.

All of these arcane arts, naturally, require rigorous study at the Splendid Universities, where hopeful young scholars dedicate themselves to the mastery of these rituals. As a general rule, the more powerful and complex the effect, the longer the ritual, and the greater the likelihood of a tutor peering over one's shoulder and making the sort of disapproving noises that would not be out of place coming from an aunt upon discovering one has become engaged to a chorus girl. And so, dear reader, should you find yourself in possession of the Splendid knack, the world is yours to enchant.

Tally-ho and pip-pip!