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

15 October 1021, L’École du Sorciers

My dearest cousin Armand,

I shall begin with the exciting news: Maximilian and I were able to make a small excursion in our caravan! A brief trip, only, just two days, to the village of Saint Rocher, where Claude Bergeron and Dr. Peyronnet found the ley node in the crypt of the village church. We left little Jane with her nurse, and were able to fly through the night on the way there and on the way back or we should never have managed such a speedy trip.

But I get ahead of myself.

After we received Claude’s exciting news, Jérôme Lavigne undertook to visit the village himself. He was able to obtain access to the crypt and to inspect the “tomb” of the great Saint Rocher himself, patron of the town and worker of miracles. He returned as animated as I have ever seen him.

The “tomb” is a box-shaped block of grey stone, finely carved with faux columns at the corners and the appearance of an extended base and lid, but it is all one piece. In proportion it is not wholly un-tomb-like, though oddly broad for its width and height. It is about three feet in height, and six in width and seven in length. At the foot is an inscription in a script unfamiliar to me (and presumably also to the villagers). The stone is otherwise unmarked, and no surprise, for Jérôme assures us that the stone has been hardened.

Lying on top of the “tomb” is a much cruder effigy of a man, unhardened and in quite another kind of stone. The village priest, Fr. Alain, said that it is meant to be an effigy of the miracle-working Saint Rocher himself.

Jérôme was able to spend several hours in the crypt unobserved, ostensibly about his devotions, while Fr. Alain attended to his duties above; and during that time he verified the similarity between the “tomb” and the partially exposed stone we found in the base of King Guy’s Fundament here in Toulouse.

Yes, Armand, it is a formed object; and like King Guy’s Fundament it is still converting your thaumaturgical “effort” into the kind of magic force manipulated by Cumbrian wizards, and feeding that force it into the ley lines on which it sits: the second such that we have discovered. And it is doing so much more strongly than the King Guy node, and the ley lines in the vicinity are correspondingly stronger.

But that is not why Maximilian and I paid a visit to Saint Rocher, exciting though it is; nor is it the inscription, for on his return dear Jérôme presented me with a rubbing of the inscription and a quiet, well-satisfied smile. No, it is the stories that he was told by the village priest.

Fr. Alain is an educated man, sent to this remote village by his bishop, and he has made it his business to find out all he can about the holy man the villagers call “Saint Rocher”. Further, he has done his best to winnow the true from the fabulous in the stories. He is a humble man, and deeply caring about his flock—which is fortunate for him, because otherwise I think he would find life in the little village insupportable.

We sat down with him after investigating the crypt, and once we had gotten to know him a little Maximilian made bold to say, “The tomb below—it isn’t really a tomb, you know.”

“I thought it wasn’t,” he said, easily. “Anyone can see that it is a solid block. Though I suppose Saint Rocher might be interred below it.”

“We have reason to believe that that stone has been there since the time of the ancients,” I said. “Our friend M. Lavigne verified that it is a magical object.”

The priest frowned. “Of what sort?”

“Four ley lines come together directly beneath the stone,” Maximilian said. “You know about ley lines?”

“I’ve heard of them—though most of what I heard struck me as sophomoric nonsense.”

We exchanged a look and Maximilian chuckled. “Indeed, yes. But we have been studying them more seriously. And that stone is providing magic force to the ley lines.”

“We think it likely,” I said, “That the village is named for the stone itself, rather than for a holy man.”

“Fascinating,” said Fr. Alain. “And yet, you are mistaken, I fear. Oh, not about the stone, but about Saint Rocher. He might have taken his name from the stone, c’est possible, possibly even likely. But from what I can tell he was quite a real person beneath all the legends. I wonder where he is buried.”

We then spent several hours discussing the good father’s research, while I made copious notes. I won’t relate them all, but here are the two main points. First. Saint Rocher was known as a healer; and second, he is said to have had the miraculous ability to be where exactly he was needed, that is to travel from the village to outlying habitations at great speed. No one ever saw him come and go; he would simply arrive. There are well attested stories of him being here at the church at dawn and hours away but a few moments later.

Perhaps, Armand, just perhaps this Saint Rocher was a wizard of some variety…and was using the ley lines to travel. Maximilian has plotted the locations of the places the saint was said to have appeared on our chart—insofar as we can determine them. All fall within a rough circle of a few hours walk from the village church; and the points farther away tend to be near one of the ley lines.

I am so full of ideas that I cannot express them all. We will be pondering all this deeply for months. And in the meantime I will be trying to find someone who can translate the inscription on the so-called tomb.

Your increasingly giddy cousin,

Amelia

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