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

17 December 2024, L’École du Sorciers

My dearest cousin Armand,

I am delighted to learn that you have gotten something of substance from John Gamble. I have no doubt that Jérôme Lavigne will have formed his own whirligig in short order, with my help here in Toulouse.

Yes, my help! I have hesitated to write of these matters—one must not count one’s duckponds before they hatch—but the winds of change are blowing through the halls of L’École, and for a wonder the masters of the school are eager and pleased about it.

First, Maximilian and I—and Jane, and our child to come—are now permanent residents at L’École du Sorciers. You might recall our Dr. Guisman, the head of L’École, telling me that L’École has never been a place for children…but that has changed, and for many reasons. We now reside in a pleasant house, midway between Dr. Laguerre’s cottage and L’École’s chapel. It once upon a time served as a dwelling for several of the younger professors, but has been made over for our use.

And why have we been granted this boon? In part it is recognition of my mastery of the Fleuve de Johannes—for Dr. Laguerre is getting on in years, and though she still teaches I am seen as her successor. I have much yet to learn from her about the subtleties of the Johannine stream, but I am also much stronger than she; she could never have destroyed the remains of Le Maréchal’s fleet as I did. 

In another part it is to ensure that I have regular recourse to Our Lord in His Tabernacle. I have worked hard to master my anger, and to keep the flames from rising unwanted…but it remains difficult at times, especially given my role as Queen Beatrice’s confidante and the ambitious fools who inevitably appear at the Provençese court. Living here at L’École, the chapel is open to me at any hour of the day or night.

And finally, it is a profound snub to University of Edenford, and to many of the dons of Veronica’s College in particular. 

For the past years, since determining the cause of the destruction of Ituria, I have moved from studying ancient texts to studying Cumbrian wizardry with Dr. Tillotson and with Jérôme, in person and by letter. Tillotson tells me that I have grasped the subject better than many a graduate of Veronica’s, and would gladly see the university award me a doctorate, but the University of Edenford will not grant a degree to a woman. L’École has granted me the doctorate that Edenford has withheld; and so now you may address me as Dr. Archer should you choose to be unwontedly formal.

Jérôme has returned to Toulouse as well, with his doctorate from Edenford; and I will be teaching Cumbrian wizardry alongside him beginning next year. Jérôme has outdone me by one, for he has mastered three strains of wizardry: the Laroussian stream, Cumbrian wizardry, and of course he is now a Master of the Cumbrian Former’s Guild, courtesy of Grandmaster Netherington-Coates. 

He cannot teach forming, or the Flueve de Belazel as he prefers to call it, at L’École, for he is bound by guild law; but he is working with Master Kerinois, second at the Former’s Guild here in Toulouse, to establish a branch of the Provençese guild at L’École. He may then train apprentices to study the theory of forming under the aegis of the Provençese Guild.

And what of my beloved Maximilian, and his work for Lord Ellesmere at the Cumbrian Embassy? Must he live in the Embassy while I live here at L’École? Must we be parted? By no means. Lord Ellesmere has retired to his estate in Cumbria, and the new ambassador, Lord Murtry, has brought in his own staff. Max remained in place just long enough to train his successor; and he is now completing his own oft-thwarted course in Cumbrian wizardry with the aid of Jérôme and Dr. Tillotson—and myself, of course—as a student at L’École. He is beginning to nose about the various streams of Provençese wizardry as well.

And that brings me to the second revolution, the second wind of change. Dr. Guisman and the other masters of L’École have determined, after much discussion with Jérôme and me, that Cumbrian wizardry is not in fact an eighth stream of wizardry, distinct from the classic Six Streams that have long been taught here, nor from forming, the long lost Stream of Belazel. Rather, Cumbrian wizardry works with the same sources of magic found in the Six Streams, but takes a rigorous and mathematical (and to Provençese eyes, quite odd) approach to managing the magic it draws from those sources. In Provençese wizardry, the magic flows within one’s self, or is shared with difficulty by an array of other wizards; in Cumbrian wizardry the magic is encouraged to flow within an array of artificial nodes. A Provençese wizard can do more with less preparation, but a Cumbrian wizard, given time to prepare, can do larger things more safely. It seems that there is much to study, and much to learn.

It has therefore become a goal, perhaps the goal, of the research here at L’École to discover what one might accomplish by combining Cumbrian rigor with a deep knowledge of the Streams. Jérôme and I—and soon, Maximilian—will be in the thick of it, and the Iturian Relay will be our first concern.

And if that leaves the University of Edenford playing catch up, we here in Toulouse will shed no tears. Nor will Dr. Tillotson, who has expressed himself on the folly of Veronica’s College in particular and the University’s folly in general in terms that I shall not repeat. Indeed, I worry that his continued support for us—for we are not popular in Edenford at the moment—will lead him into an untenable position. If so, we shall find room for him here.

And so you see that we have fortuitously gathered all the folk we need to work with John Gamble’s whirligigs here at L’École. We are all getting settled in—and I myself am on light duty, anticipating my confinement in March—but here we are, and here, it seems, we shall stay.

Your increasing, and increasingly large, cousin,

Amelia

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