Letter III (F.M. to C.D.)

Dear Cordy,

Thank you for your quick return note! I can’t tell you my relief. You’re probably wondering why I sent no response until now, but father had some business in the country and we left early Tuesday morning. I am writing you from Grandmother’s cottage at Seven Oaks* where I will be staying for a fortnight, provided there isn’t another emergency council meeting called. Should that occur, I'll get to ride into town alone, as there would be no available escort. Hurrah! I am hoping this will happen so I can try out the protection spell I just mastered. I do hate to leave Grandmother, but it would be worth it just to get mugged and see the face of the knave who dares attack me as he transforms into a ladies undergarment. Goodness, but I do have a sense of humor!

Well, I honestly can’t say who had the worst day. If I could have chosen between our two unfortunate afternoons, I suppose I would stick with mine (I don’t care how humiliated I am, I refuse to wear fringe). And it was satisfying to shower a few sparks on Lady Lucinda’s exquisite new hat. She was quite offended, but I explained to her how the effect gave the miniature knight and dragon scene on the top a more realistic look, what with the singed armor and smoking dragon. My argument would have been more convincing had I not been trying my hardest to not laugh, but as it was, well, let’s just say she won’t be inviting me to her next bun-snigger outing.

About the letter I enclosed in my last missive, I’m sure you’ve translated it by now and I’m positively dying to know the contents, especially after what happened today. Grandmother had a headache so I went to tea alone at the Seven Oaks Teahouse. The tearoom was packed, but I noticed, across the room, that same young man who I tripped over at the council. He caught me staring and I’m afraid I was red for a good ten minutes. I would have left immediately had he not been sitting right next to the door to the foyer. So I decided to wait until he was gone which was a big mistake since, as it turns out, he was waiting for me to leave so he could talk to me without actually coming over to me and drawing everyone's attention. A good half an hour or so passed before only the two of us were sitting there. Me, trying my best to avoid his eyes and dying from the three pots of tea I’d had to drink, and him, watching me with great amusement. Finally he spoke.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” he said, with an infuriatingly smug smile.

“Yes, I do. From the council meeting.” I tried not to blush at the memory of what had happened there.

“No, that isn’t what I meant,” he replied, “although that is a worthwhile memory.”

“Then, pray enlighten me,” I said, smirking to hide my embarrassment.

“No, I don’t think I will. This is much too fun.”

I stood up to leave. “Yes, well, as much fun as this is, I do need to be going so if you will kindly excuse me.” I tried to sweep dramatically past him to the door, but he stood up, barring the way.

“Actually, now that we're alone, I'd like to talk to you about that little delivery you made for me.”

He had my attention. “Oh, yes?” I said, forgetting to be upset. “Are you going to tell me what it said?”

At that moment, a large group of noisy patrons poured into the foyer. The young man’s face darkened before he pulled me close to whisper in my ear.

“Not now. Your little waiting game has cost me the opportunity to relate some vital information regarding certain Stones and their link to a certain recent melancholy event. This information wasn’t included in the letter since it only came to me this morning, but it must be passed on to your cousin. I have to leave now, but I can meet you in two days time at the magi tree in Woodshaker’s clearing. It’s close enough to your grandmother’s that you can go alone without anyone worrying. And come at sunrise since I know that’s your favorite time of day. Maybe you’ll be more civil then Foofribelle.”

He released me and left before I could even reply, although I didn’t really need to. Of course I’ll go. To gain any information I can for you and also since I now know who he is. Only one other person knows of our magi tree in the clearing. Aside from the fact that he's all grown up now, how could I not recognize him? Dearest, I will forward the information he gives me as soon as I receive it. I admit I’m intrigued. There must be a good reason why he is communicating all this through me instead of directly to you. I hope everything is all right. Please write to me any information you can from his letter so I will have some background information when I meet him.

With great affection,

Foofri

P.S. The mirror experiment came off swimmingly. Too swimmingly, in fact. I only wanted to summon a little fairy, but somehow managed to summon a lesser known sorcerer’s muse instead. I guess I do underestimate my abilities. However, I can’t get the dreadful thing to leave. He gave me the spell I wanted (I turned a rat from the woodshed into a serviceable pair of bloomers), but now he wants to teach me all the other wondrous spells he hasn’t had the opportunity to share (I told you he was lesser known). Of course, I should take advantage of this situation, but I’m on summer vacation for goodness sake! I don’t want to spend all my time learning spells.

P.P.S. I still think you should go into Beginning Magical Education. Fears should be mastered, I say! The dear little kiddies’ fears that is, after one day with you (I’m only teasing, dear).

*Historically, there have only ever been six oaks lining the approach to the picturesque village of Seven Oaks. While some historians postulate that the nominal fiction arose from superstitions pertaining to the good luck value of the number seven, a more likely explanation lies in the fashion regime instituted by the second Imperial Empress, who dictated that landscaping in even numbers was faux pas. The Empress passed on. The name did not.

Letter II (C.D. to F.M.)

My Dear Foofri,

Put away the smelling salts and keep your record unblemished. I am safe and sound, but if you think YOU had an awful afternoon! Through no fault of my own (mostly), I spent the entire council in a Royal Residency broom closet. (Stop laughing!)

As you know, I made the mistake of mentioning to the director of BMEFYC* that I had done a paper on the structure of the elementary transmutation back at the Academy. All I meant was that I would be happy to share my notes with the instructor. I never dreamed I would get roped into doing the presentation myself. I did my best to put a cheerful face on the matter, but the truth is, two and a half hours with Young Citizens who can grasp enough of the concept to turn their neighbors’ hair ribbons into slimy antennae but whose attention span has run out long before my lecture notes, is perfectly exhausting. And to think you once told me I should concentrate my emphasis on Beginning Magical Education. I shudder.

I was not pleased to arrive home after that grueling session and discover a personal invitation from Princess Ameliorene to join her for tea at that afternoon’s Court. It was odd as well as annoying, since I’ve only spoken to the princess perhaps three or four times. Still, one does not ignore a royal invitation, so I strapped myself into the only black Court gown I own (you know, the crinoline monstrosity with the fringe) and trotted down to the Residence.

Half an hour spent in the princess’s less than stimulating company left me no wiser as to why she thought it would be entertaining to have my company. Part of the time, she just sat there staring at me, doe-eyed, as though she expected me to come up with a topic of conversation. The rest of it she spent making remarks like, “I think the new fashion in cloaks is simply marvelous, don’t you, Magi Demestheln?” And I’d say, “Oh yes, marvelous,” and then she’d ask whoever was sitting next to me whether they thought it was marvelous too. The rest of our circle kept changing, but every time I’d start to stand up, she’d ask me another question until I was ready to dunk her perfect golden curls into the tea pot!

I finally escaped on the plea I would be late for the council and was headed for the courtyard when who should I see coming toward me but that insufferable Count whatsis name. The one with the greasy mustache who has been hanging about ever since I inherited grandfather’s estate. I was just about to slip on a quick invisibility spell when I remembered the palace burglar alarm with the invisibility detector, so I shut myself behind the first door I saw, which turned out to be a broom closet. Of course it was. I intended to pop out again as soon as whatsis face went past, but two guards decided they had time for a chat right in front of my closet! (Whatever they pay Imperial door guards is too much!) Imagine my trying to explain to security why a fifth skillhouse magi was lurking in a royal broom closet. I was stuck, and believe me it was sweltering inside those layers of velvet (not to mention the fringe getting tangled up in the mops).

Three thrilling quarters of an hour full of gossip later, they finally left. I just had my hand on the doorknob when I heard more footsteps out in the hall, and yet another conversation began outside my closet. (I don’t know why they bother with sitting rooms.) But this is the strangest part of the whole afternoon. They were speaking softly and I could not distinguish the words, only the timbre of the voices. One of them I found entirely unrecognizable, but the other sent chills down my spine! You remember our little curfew breaking escapade your second year at the Academy? The time we almost got caught and had to hide up the nearest tree while one of the kitchen maids enjoyed a rendezvous with her lover (or so we assumed). The man had a distinctly sibilant voice and you said it made you feel as if a wraith were breathing down your neck. I would wager the secret family recipe for R’uc Wing it was THE SAME VOICE!! But I didn’t dare peek until they were gone and so am left simply burning with curiosity.

That is how I spent my afternoon. By the time I escaped the company of the mops, it was much too late to make the council, and I arrived home (traffic was dreadful) barely an hour ahead of your note.

I don’t know how I am going to explain my absence since Head Councilman Lastra isn’t fond of me at the best of times. I wish those cursed Stones had stayed disappeared! The scandal of the last century had finally died down and the Demesthelns were a respectable (sort of) family again. But you can’t pick your relatives.** (To be fair, there are a few who probably wouldn’t have picked me either.)

The next time Damorin accosts you with a probe, I would do more than stare. I would throw something. Of all the presumptuous arrogance! He acts as if he has the rights of a Master, which he does not, even if he is seventh skillhouse. And he especially doesn’t have any right to be nosy about me, since I have graduated (with honors that should have satisfied even him) and he is no longer responsible for my academic well being. So why he was so concerned about me, I don’t know, but I’m sorry my absence brought you under the baleful glare of the council!

I opened the mysterious missive first thing after reading your letter. Unfortunately, the whole thing is written in those impossible shadowlink runes. I shall be up half the night translating (all those late nights cramming for Calligraphic Lang. at the Academy, and I still only just squeaked through), and I wanted to send this off immediately and set your mind at rest.

Most affectionately,
Cordy

P.S. Sorry if I babbled, but I feel considerably relieved having vented the whole frustration into your sympathetic ear.

P.P.S. You didn’t mention how your experiment with the mirror came out. Better than you were expecting I hope (but you underrate your own abilities, dear, you really do!)

P.P.P.S. This is growing ridiculous. But I do hope you tripped gracefully. And just how handsome was this young man?

*Beginning Magical Education for Young Citizens was at this time considered the premier preparatory school for the Imperial Academy of Magic. Within ten years, however, it would be defunct, due to its failure to adhere to the Valerian Education Act of 432.

**For the full genealogy of the Demestheln family, see Appendix G.

Letter I (F.M. to C.D.)

Dearest Cordy,

Where were you today? I’m dreadfully worried about you and if I don’t receive a reply before sundown, I’ll positively faint! I suppose that would be a good threat but for the fact you know of my personal goal to never, ever faint. Well, I almost gave in today. I was, in fact, wishing I would disappear, but here, I’m getting ahead of myself.

First off, your absence at the council caused quite a little scene. Dear, you did know that all magii were to attend regardless of their skillhouse or social standing. I know you did because we spoke of it, but everyone wanted to attend anyway so when you, of all people, failed to make an appearance, it caused more than a few raised eyebrows (not that that is saying much with all the carefully bored eyebrow raising that goes on at these meetings-bah!).

No one notices whether I come and go, but because you were gone I became the center of attention (my worst nightmare as you well know). And how is this accomplished you ask? How does a mousy girl of little beauty and even less skill get any attention at a social function? Let me explain and I earnestly hope you will cringe on my behalf as the story unfolds.

I arrived just as the meeting began, taking the usual seat in our dark little corner of the council room where we can watch everyone and their petty, but amusing little games of social intrigue. There was little of that going on today as the seriousness of the meeting superseded everything else. All eyes were on the dais as Head Councilman Lastra prepared for his opening remarks and the giving of the pledge. I, too, was intent upon Lastra until I felt a very slight probe hit me from the northwest corner of the room. I looked up suddenly, too suddenly it seems, for I could detect no one. I dismissed it as nerves until another one hit me. It was then that I noticed ‘you know who’ sitting in that section. Of course he wouldn’t condescend to ask me where you were nor would he condescend to speak to you even if you had seen fit to attend, but he was looking for you. And don’t tell me it wasn’t him or that he wasn’t wondering where you were. I may only be third skillhouse, but I do know how to trace a probing spell (which he obviously assumed I could not). And even if I didn’t, he very carefully avoided the gaze I directed at him the remainder of the meeting in my annoying way. Guilty, I say!

The horrible part, though, is that his last probe was so strong it caught me by surprise and you know how exuberant my magic is when I’m surprised! The blocking spell I put up made quite a lot of noise and I think a few sparks even came shooting out of my ears (oh yes, my ears of all places!). Everyone turned to look in my direction and you can guess what color my face turned and stayed for the remainder of the meeting. I blame you for this! (Not really, dearest, and I am terribly worried about you.) What could possibly have made you miss the council? Everyone knows you are in mourning over your grandfather, but they do expect you to attend these things especially to give evidence since it is widely believed that your grandfather’s death was somehow related to the mysterious re-appearance of the Suldan Stones. Without the addition of your testimony, there was little for the council to discuss so we were dismissed with only a few of the usual long and boring lectures on the importance of spell guarding and not taking tea with any trolls (what a notion!) and such.

And now, for the most important reason for my sending you this urgent letter (besides your well-being, of course). I was wearing my blue gown with the long hem and, as usual, did a fair amount of tripping. I tripped over the same young man coming in and going out. He was quite good-looking and I’m hoping it really was the gown’s fault that I fell helplessly into his arms. At least to any onlooker I was completely innocent of duplicity! I still don’t know his name, but he was very polite and actually seemed to enjoy assisting me to my feet (goodness, observe how my imagination runs wild). The main thing is that when I returned home, I found a letter had been placed within my cloak with your name on it! I am enclosing it and hope that you can enlighten me as to its contents. And your whereabouts!

As ever your dearest friend,

Foofri

*Editors’ Note: Shortly after this period, common usage began to drop the pluralizing ‘i’ of magii. The ensuing confusion caused by having identical spellings for the singular and plural forms eventually led to the official adoption of the stylized “magus” as the singular, although its use was long restricted to the upper classes. Even today, rural areas of the realm retain the identical spellings, to the great confusion of Imperial census takers. For a full etymological explanation detailing the relationship between linguistic change and the reopening of Nirabian trade relations, see Appendix F.

Preface

THE MAGI LETTERS

Edited by

Dianarama Ottorius

Imperial Magic Academy

and

Solsticia Quartermanus

University of New Pasifica

Preface

Perhaps no point of imperial history is as disputed as the brief period following the mysterious reappearance of the Suldan Stones, seventy-five years after their theft by Magi Sedgwick Demestheln in 425 A.I. The return of the Stones was documented when Magi Stephanus Demestheln restored them to the Justicum vaults after they materialized on his doorstep. But whether and how the remarkable events which followed—the assassination of Princess Ameliorene, the restoration of magic to the Shazar Pass, and the reform of magical education—were connected, remained unclear. Later history has attributed the confusion to the political maneuvering of then Head Councilman Master Desiderius Lastra. At the time, however, speculation ran wild. The most popular conspiracy theory described a Nirabian plot to monopolize the magic carpet trade. (This was later discredited as propaganda of the Imperial Carpet Weavers Union.) What truth was known soon became obscured by a rash of highly improbable histories churned out by hacks capitalizing on the political drama.

The personal correspondence contained in this volume was discovered when the Ardaya family papers were donated to the Justicum archives by the last surviving member of that family, Miss Genevieve Ardaya. The letters chronicle the weeks following the Stones’ reappearance, an account which must absolutely overturn all existing historical narratives. Not only are the actions of the principle players clarified, but political and personal motives emerge that were never even guessed by historians. The importance of this volume to even our general understanding of the history of the Imperial Realm cannot be overestimated, and we hope that scholars and laypersons alike will approach it with an open mind.

A number of scholarly aids and other supplemental materials have been appended.

Obvious errors in spelling, punctuation, and usage have been corrected. The inverted ‘g’ then in vogue has been silently amended.

The editors wish to thank the staff of the Justicum archives, the special collections librarians of the University of New Pacifica, Magi Patricia C. Wrede, and Magi Caroline Stevermer.