Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter.

15 July 1020, L’École du Sorciers

My dearest cousin Armand,

I have found myself, time and again and again, pondering the question with which you closed your last letter: “What is your kind of wizardry good for?”

Forming, or the Stream of Belazel, as Jérôme would say, is quite clearly useful; especially, as you are finding, as a means to gain riches and the disapprobation of the Cumbrian upper crust.

But what good is my kind of wizardry? Other than for destroying enemy fleets, of course. I shall return to this below.

Last Monday we had the good fortune to dine at the Cumbrian Embassy, Maximilian and I, with Lord Ellesmere and his wife. They were naturally curious about my current course of study and contemplation, though they inquired about it with a degree of hesitancy and caution I am not used to seeing in our Ambassador.

I soon inferred that the Ellesmeres were afraid I had turned into some sort of religious enthusiast, turning as I have toward the Old Religion and spending so many hours on my knees in the chapel as I have been.

His Lordship, much like Lord Doncaster, I expect, is the very figure of a Cumbrian man of affairs, all for God and Land, don’t you know, and present in his pew for Divine Services each Sunday—the sort who might take in Evening Prayer on a fine summer evening in the country, and who will always give all due respect to the Vicar, but who will not otherwise think about the Divine from one week’s end to the other. One could as well say that His Lordship is all for Land and God.

I do not mean to disparage him, for he is a kind man, honest and generous; and to soothe him I made sure to speak calmly of my experiences and to avoid any signs of being overwhelmed by hysteria.

But do you know, Armand, I am perhaps becoming more enthusiastic than I led him to believe.

Lady Ellesmere asked me the same question you did, in the politest possible way: what is wizardry good for?

I spoke to her about the intellectual challenges, about the joy of exploring the eternal laws that lie beneath the mysteries of the Created World we see all about us. I could almost see them consigning me to the bin of hopeless academics; which I suppose is less lowering than the bin of religious enthusiasts.

Lord Ellesmere did say, “It’s bloody useful in times of war, I can see that.”

“Yes,” said his lady. “And yet it doesn’t seem to be used for that.”

This was clearly the heart of their concern, beyond simple curiosity.

“Never,” said Maximilian. “On this Edenford and the other schools of wizardry are agreed. We work to learn about Creation; we will not work toward death and destruction. This has been tried in the past, and has always led to sorrow.”

“Has it? What of Le Maréchal’s fleet?” said Lord Ellesmere.

I shook my head. “You know very well, my lord, that Le Maréchal’s man told me they held Maximilian hostage, and that the masters of L’École gave me permission to do what I must in order to spare Maximilian’s life. I found I could not bring myself to destroy the Cumbrian fleet at their behest, even at the cost of my beloved’s life; and in destroying Le Maréchal’s fleet I was certain that I was signing Maximilian’s death warrant.” I forced myself to meet His Lordship’s eyes. “I hope never to be placed in such an unhappy position again. The Fire wanted to take my vessel as well, and the Cumbrian ships along with it, and in my despair I nearly allowed it.”

Maximilian looked at me with great concern. “You never told me that!”

I smiled at him, sadly and with great rue. “I never dared admit it to myself until just now.”

And on that note Lady Ellesmere, ever the consummate hostess as an ambassador’s wife must be, turned the subject, and we spoke of other things. But just as we were leaving, His Lordship broached the subject once again.

“Surely there must be some practical use for wizardry, Mrs. Archer?”

“Oh, yes,” I said. “When I am angry I can do this.” And I let the light of flame fill my eyes for just a moment, as I had unthinkingly done in Dr. Laguerre’s cottage just before my explosion.

I smiled as the glow faded. “I expect I shall find it useful for encouraging the importunate and recalcitrant. Only as a last resort, of course.”

“Quite so,” said Lord Ellesmere. “Oh, yes, quite so.”

Your contemplative and not entirely useless cousin,

Amelia

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