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

Oh my dear Cordy!

Now that I've sufficiently recovered enough to write, I must admit you were right to warn me. That memory restoration spell was perhaps the strangest experience I've ever had, if you leave out the time that box of enchanted raisins you gave me kept telling me answers to my Elementary Thaumaturgical Equations test (and earned me low marks, I might add) or that time Father and I unrolled a new shipment of flying carpets from the Orlend region and found a whole collection of recipes for Winged R'uc fastened together with an ornate toupee clip and rolled in a dishtowel stained with cranberry chutney, or that time I told Arthur Wiltebank that if he wanted to take me out walking, he had to cook me dinner and get a partial lobotomy (and he took issue with having to cook me dinner).

All right, so maybe the memory restoration isn't the strangest that's ever happened to me, comparatively, but it seemed so at the time. I don't know about you, but I felt very disconnected from it, like an outside observer watching the drama unfold. At several points during the process of retrieval, I actually wanted to yell at our past selves like I do characters in books who aren't doing what I want them to do. It was very odd indeed to watch the story come to its final conclusion and not be able to do anything about it. Now that I sit to write you about it, I feel I should write what happened exactly as I saw it happen. Then we can compare notes.

Ahem (that's me clearing my narrative throat):

The Summer That Time (and we) Forgot

Mostly

by Foofri Montphish

Student Magi of the Realm

And a Quantity of Other Astounding Accomplishments

That Haven't Happened

Yet

But Will

Maybe

Foofri Montphish and Cordy Demestheln were cousins and best friends, almost as close as their mothers. How could twins not be close? They had grown up in the heart of Imperial city, the toast of society. Upon her coming out, Andora Coquinette, Cordy’s mother, had been much sought after. She could have chosen almost any young man, but she had finally decided upon Peyton Demestheln, a lesser, but wealthy young nobleman whose family had fallen out of societal grace decades ago over strange rumors about the infamous Suldan Stones. But she loved him and, against the wishes of her family, married him (thank goodness).

Andella Coquinette, Foofri’s mother, was much sought after as well. She was a little quieter, and not quite as witty as her sister, but she still possessed all the wonderful qualities for which the two young ladies had become known. She married a poor, but solid young merchant named Alain Montphish, also against the wishes of her family (fie on them).

The two sisters were very happy in their marriages even through the disapproval of their parents. Of course, the Demesthelns and the Montphishs were thrilled at the marvelous matches their sons had made and welcomed the young ladies with open arms. The sisters’ grandmother, Grandmother Coqui, as they called her, was thrilled as well and always congratulated the girls for having the good sense to marry for love. When the sisters bore children, only a year apart, each had a daughter. When the cousins were old enough, Grandmother Coqui insisted that they summer with her at her country estate, Seven Oaks, to be spoiled by hearty cooking and country air (which never put hair on their chests, contrary to popular belief).

It was there that Cordy and Foofri became the best of friends. As they grew older, they began having some fairly serious talk. Both girls had shown enough magical ability to attend the Academy, and both had experienced the first pangs of feeling different and out of place. For the first time, Cordy understood she was not fully accepted socially. For the first time, Foofri understood that people looked down on her family for being poor. And they were both too young to understand how very unimportant these things were (at least, I never cared about your family scandal and you never cared about my father's income, but back then it hurt that other people did).

The summer Foofri was nine and Cordy ten, they became acquainted with an older boy named Sean who lived in the nearby village. He'd rarely been around any magi at all, and none near his own age until he met the cousins. They were his only connection with a fascinating world, but he was a boy, part of the species they must ignore (or pretend to anyway—we were on the verge of adolescence, of course we were aware of him) and treat badly!

The girls made up a rather silly little magic club, Sisters of the Midnight Moon, and met every day at the giant oak (christened the magi tree) at the edge of the clearing between the Pickering farm and the river in order to discuss “secret magic things” (like who was the cutest boy on the fencing team at school, which, as it turns out, had nothing to do with magic, but which provided endless hours of entertainment-my vote is still on Yleyagn Fardscarp).

One day Sean followed them to the magi oak and pulled out a spell book to show them--something he said he'd found stowed away in a cupboard. The book, a small leather-bound volume stamped a hazel leaf, looked musty and old-fashioned (what I wouldn't give to have it now). The cousins had more important things to do than waste time on a country spell book, which they assumed was filled with superstitious protection wards and spells regarding the fertility of farm animals, Jalwa spare them.

They dismissed the look of hurt and anger on his face as he left.

The forthcoming summer solstice provided the perfect opportunity for a special meeting of the Sisters of the Midnight Moon. They were finally to perform some daring (or so we thought) potion spells they had learned from certain girls at school whose group they had desperately wanted to join. How deliciously wicked they felt, sneaking out in the middle of the night, wrapped in Grandmother's long cloaks, whispering excitedly to each other (interesting to note I'm still sneaking out and I still feel deliciously wicked doing it).

They didn't even notice Sean hiding behind the tree when they got there. Of course he'd overheard them on planning on that day when they rebuffed him, and no doubt on other days, too, since they talked about it often enough. Grandmother Coqui probably knew as well, but she was always one to let the cousins have their harmless fun, and to allow them to learn from their own mistakes. She couldn't know how badly things would turn out that night.

As the moon reached the zenith, Cordy and Foofri prepared and carefully set out their ingredients. At the same time, Sean made preparations of his own. Sprinkling his cloak and hair with the pollen from a nearby moonflower, he began to glow with an eerie light. He rubbed a bit around his eyes and smeared a thick, crude stripe across his mouth, creating a luminescent face with a menacing glare (if only we hadn't forgotten this, we could have used it to scare certain people at school who shall remain nameless).

Then he began to whisper. Soft words, taken from a page in his spell book, flowed from his mouth as he emerged from behind the tree. With her back towards the oak, Cordy didn't notice anything until she looked up from her work and saw Foofri staring behind her, mesmerized. She spun around and both girls began to back away from the encroaching figure.

“Wh-who are you?” Cordy demanded, but the figure didn't break its incantation.

While the words were unfamiliar and strange, the girls could sense the power in them. They wove a malevolent spell that seemed to pull at them like a siphon. Foofri cried out, but Sean kept going, creeping slowly towards them, repeating the words over and over. Finally he came to a stop right in front of them and the spell died on his lips.

The girls, who were clutching each other with white-knuckled hands, looked up at the older boy in surprise. Through the glowing streaks on his face, they could see who it was. They could also sense something else in the air, something that hadn't stopped when he had. But the boy, being unfamiliar with magic, didn't notice.

“You should have seen your faces!” he laughed. “I thought you were going faint.”

“You idiot,” hissed Cordy, “What have you done?”

“It was just a joke,” he snorted dismissively, “Nothing happened.”

“It's still happening,” she replied in a tight voice, “Look around you!”

Sean glanced around and began to ask what she meant, but he stopped when two figures slowly began to materialize next to them.

“Make them go away, whatever they are!” Cordy shouted.

Sean looked at her in shock. “Me?”

“You brought them here, you make them disappear. That's how it works!”

“I-I was just reading a spell, I don't actually have magic,” Sean stammered, eyes growing wide in fear as the shapes became solid.

“Apparently, you do,” replied Foofri urgently, “So you'd better cancel it out quickly!”

But it was too late. The threesome stared at the figures, unable to tear their eyes away. One was tall (but not willowy) with auburn hair and brown eyes; a smattering of freckles dotted the top of its cheeks and nose (and maybe a few other spots). It floated forward until it came to face to face with Foofri, her mirror image in every way, except the expression on its face and the evil glint in its eyes. Foofri stood transfixed, unable to move.

“You summoned wraiths?” Cordy said through clenched teeth as the other figure glided forward, locking eyes with her and rendering her immobile.

This one was shorter with long wavy black hair and piercing green eyes, another near-perfect image. It leaned in to Cordy and inhaled deeply. “Human magic,” it sighed with pleasure. “It's been far too long since we were fed.”

“I didn't do this,” Sean whispered, shaking his head.

“Magic doesn't lie,” the wraith said. “You summoned us and now we will do your bidding.”

“I only wanted to scare them a little!” he protested.

“Yes, Master, and so we shall,” it replied, raising one hand as it turned back to Cordy. The other wraith did the same. As Sean watched in horror, he could see a small trickle of light being pulled out of each girl towards the corresponding wraith. Cordy's eyes rolled back into her head as the trickle stretched away from her body. Foofri began to tremble violently, but she remained horribly aware of every detail of the scene around them.

“Stop!” Sean cried. “I command you to stop!”

The wraith in front of Cordy didn't even pause. “The spell has been cast. We can't stop.”

“Then take me instead.” He lunged at the wraiths, trying to dislodge their connection to the two girls, but his body went right through. Stumbling to the other side, he whirled around to face them again, his flesh burning where it had gone through the wraiths. He didn't notice. He watched, helpless, as the undulating streams of light finally reached the ghost-like creatures in front of him.

Cordy and Foofri began to fade slightly. Their bodies appeared less solid, less substantial. Conversely, the wraiths became visibly more firm. With eyes closed, they tilted their heads back, welcoming the glowing streams. Sean lunged again, this time against something more firm. The wraith bodies had enough density to be nudged, slightly. One of the wraiths hissed in annoyance, but otherwise ignored him.

“Leave them alone,” panted Sean, his skin burning even more, “they have nothing to do with this! I'm the one who summoned you!”

They didn't listen.

As they continued to ignore him, he took a few steps back and dove at the nearest wraith. By now, it was solid enough for Sean's efforts to have an effect. His momentum sent it sprawling into the other and they both tumbled away with Sean on top. The connection snapped instantly.

The stolen light rushed back into the girls in one big whoosh. Cordy fell against Foofri, who barely managed to catch her as they both sank to the grass, limp and shaking. They were safe for now, but there was still the problem of the wraiths. They floated up from the ground, leaving Sean in a heap below them.

“You shouldn't have done that,” one of them said, eyes blazing.

The other leaned over and said, “Now we'll kill you and them as well.”

Sean's body was covered with deep, oozing sores; the stench of burnt flesh filled the air. He rolled over and took a deep breath. “I summoned you,” he whispered, “so I can banish you, too.”

They laughed, hovering over him. “You should have thought of that before you interrupted us. Now you're too weak.”

But he closed his eyes and began to repeat the summoning spell, modifying the ending with a different word--a word to nullify, a word to cancel. The wraiths recoiled, shrieking. Magic crackling around him, Sean stood up weakly. With the last of his strength, he spoke the words loud and clear. Still screaming, the wraiths vanished in a puff of foul smelling smoke. Foofri promptly fainted.

When she came to, she was lying in her own bed at Grandmother Coqui’s cottage. She looked over and saw Cordy fast asleep, and thought she must have dreamt the whole terrible thing until she heard angry voices from downstairs. Grabbing her robe, she ran down to the entry hall where Sean leaned against the door. His father pointed an accusing finger at Grandmother Coqui.

“Look what those girls have done to my boy,” he growled. He stepped back so the old woman could see the damage on Sean’s body. “This is what happens when you associate with magii!”

“No!” Sean argued. “They didn’t do it. I did it.”

“No,” his father said firmly. “They've tricked you somehow. You’re mistaken.”

Without saying a word, Sean lifted his right hand, exposing his palm. A few moments went by before a small ball of light appeared and began to grow. Sean didn’t even look at the ball, he was barely trying. Foofri stared in awe, barely noticing Cordy slipping down the stairs behind her.

“Stop it!” Sean's father cried, grabbing his son by the arm. The ball flickered and shrank back into Sean’s palm “You're never to do that again!” he yelled. Sean’s head snapped up, but Grandmother spoke before he had a chance to protest.

“Now, Seamus,” she said calmly. “The boy has a gift. Clearly, he only needs some guidance and encouragement.”

“You call this a gift?” he father asked, pointing to the blackened sores on Sean's body.

“That was an accident,” Foofri piped up. “He didn't know. None of us knew!” Everyone turned and looked at her. “And none of you know what we just went through,” Foofri went on. “It was terrifying and horrible and...and he saved our lives!”

“After he tried to kill us,” mumbled Cordy.

“He didn't even know what he was doing, did you?” she spoke the last part to Sean, who shook his head feebly. “And besides, he made it all go away, in the end.”

“Yes, finally,” said Cordy, glaring at Sean. “It would have been nice if you had remembered a little earlier how to cancel that spell from your book.”

“What book?” Seamus Valerian demanded suddenly.

Sean pulled the old spell book from the back of his pants and held it out. His father went white. “Where did you get that?” he asked.

“From a trunk in the attic. It tells how to cast a spell and how to undo it.” He cast a deeply sorrowful glance at Cordy. “I just didn't know that I could do either one. I'm so sorry.”

Seamus snatched the book away and thrust it at Grandmother. “You'll never use it again,” he said, “and you'll never use your magic again either. Surely you can see that's best.” He took his son's arm and turned to go, but Sean broke free.

“Wait, who's book is that?” he asked.

“Nevermind,” replied Seamus hastily. “It doesn't concern you.” He tried to usher Sean out the door again, but Sean wouldn't budge.

“It was my mother's, wasn't it?” he asked slowly.

Seamus stood still for a long time. He shut his eyes as if he could make the question go away.

“Father?” Sean pressed.

Finally, Seamus looked at Sean and answered. “Yes, it was hers,” he said in a tired voice. “Yes, she had magic. She had magic and it killed her.” He sighed. “I won't lose you the way I lost her, do you understand now?”

Sean didn't answer. He looked completely absorbed in the wooden floor at his feet. Silently, he walked out the door, brushing his father's hand away as Seamus reached out to catch him.

“I'm so sorry, Seamus,” said Grandmother. “I didn't know.” When Seamus didn't respond, she asked, “What will you do now?”

Seamus looked out the door. “We'll go to the Outskirts where no one uses magic, and we'll never come back.”

“Are you sure that's wise? You should think it through before you do something so drastic.”

“Thank you for your concern, but it's not really your business.” Then he walked out after his son. A few days later, they were gone.

Cordy and Foofri had horrible nightmares. After a week of waking up screaming, they decided to create a memory charm to make themselves forget (I also made a simple charm to get rid of freckles, but since I made it right before the memory charm, I forgot to use it).

The End (or is it?)

Do you have anything to add, dearest? I must know exactly what happened that night. I understand why we gave that memory the heave ho, but I feel a bit of an idiot about it. All these years, Sean knowing full well what happened, and here we were, blissfully unaware. What must he think of me?

Also, what happened to him after he left? How did he learn magic? And did he really come back just to make up for that night? I will find out the answers to all of these questions.

Love,

Foof

P.S. I'm sorry I haven't responded at all to your letter, I've been completely caught up in the effects of the memory spell! Next time!