I write to discover what I know.

Pre-Fall author

Letter from Elena Worchester to Billy Jo Weirky

Billy-Jo,

I know, it’s been a long time since I wrote. And last time, you wrote back that your leg wasn’t getting any better, and that gout was never going to improve. I hope you were a pessimist, and that your twilight years aren’t bad.

The real reason I write isn’t a simple pleasantry, though it’s always pleasant to remember life in the south. It’s to tempt you to come up north. I know, I know, it’s cold and somber and all things. And even if I am immune to the cold, I swear it still does stuff to my bones, even though I’m not fifty yet.

There is a new fire mage in the Union.

There, I’ve said it. And I know I sparked your interest. After all, she has the flaming hand. I could recognize that any time. Bright, unflinching, and all that. And inextinguishable – she can turn it off, not obstacles.

Of course, if that’s all I had to offer, you’d laugh at me, like you always did when I said mists were better than a flame. So, why do I want you to bandage your foot and hoist into a carriage north despite the “abominable” weather?

She’s an archmage.

I hope I had your curiosity, but I’m sure I now have your attention.

She’s also got the flaming blade of Juan Suarez. You may remember reading about him, although he died before you were a mage. In addition, she’s got the earthen roots. There are maybe two people in Maistry’s Keep that can somewhat shuffle against her gaze, and not that easily.

Now for the final blow, and if you aren’t already packing when you finish, I’ll send you a bottle of unguent against that gout of yours.

She’s tier 6, of course. And she’s got Jade’s mana sight. The only people known beyond her to have it were all Erlangs, but they’re insanely gifted. Yet no Erlang known has four Talents. Maybe one of their secretive Council of Five. But she does.

Of course, she’s also drafted in Maistry’s current war. And I’m not sure she’ll make that much of a difference – all her abilities are too focused on close range, single target. But if you can’t make it before we get deployed to the front lines for winter against the wendigos, well, you can wait for us. I doubt she’ll get killed stupidly.

How can she be drafted? That’s simple. She’s 19. No, I’m not joking, or, how they say in the east, trolling – lying like a Caribbean Troll. Can you imagine what she’s going to be at 40? At 60? America may gain prominence among mages worldwide. The Erlangs may have more. But we’ll have better.

Looking forward to seeing you soon.

Elena Worchester, Sorceress of the Mists.

PS: Did I mention that one of her friends is a Mind Sorceress. Trust me, and prepare to be blown away. I’ll tell you more when you get here.

Letter from Elena Worchester to Sandra Frederick-Muriel, Current editor of the Mages of America

Mrs. Muriel,

I formally submit an addendum to my previous notification to the Society of the Sorcerers and Sorceresses of the Americas’ office of records.

I have received your request for confirmation that my original notice was genuine and not, as you implied between the lines, an attempt at self-aggrandizing. Besides, entries into the Mages of America reference are unattributed anyway.

Things have changed since I originally wrote.

I am writing this as I ride to the frontlines of the Fourth War of the Montana, so I may not be easy to reach, at least not until the campaign ends.

The entry I submitted for Johanna Marcia Milton needs to be amended.

She was previously estimated at low tier 6.

She is now at a minimum tier 7. Given the magnitude of her highest clocked ability – 2 hours, 41 minutes – it is almost certainly indicative of an intermediate tier between 6 and her current.

I was present at the moment she jumped up in tiers, and it was not, as it always has been, during sleep. She was in the middle of military training, and the circumstances seem to indicate that she temporarily lost her abilities before they grew back in magnitude.

You’ll find a draft description appended to this letter, as well as amended descriptions for both flaming hand and flame blade. She far exceeds any previous descriptions of such – and yes, I’m aware of the paucity of details on Juan Suarez’s old Talent.

We’ve discussed with Mrs. Milton what happened and the implications may be far more reaching than a simple anomalous mage. I suggest anticipating the organization of a full meeting of all the Sorcerers of the Americas, including that Erlang expatriate, Feixing Zhongzi – I apologize in advance if I mangled his name again. This may not happen soon, though, as military matters in the North interfere.

I will send word again as soon as I am free to travel to Nashville with Mrs. Milton and Donnall. Until then, I would advise you against publishing an early updated edition of the compendium, as the implications are staggering, and may warrant significant alterations to the core chapters of the book.

The Warden may also place obstacles, but I sincerely hope I can sway him on that point. At least once this war ends, which I cannot foresee taking long.

You are welcome to forward a copy of this correspondence to Ernesto Gomez, the distinguished scholar of the Academy of Post-Fall Physics in Nashville. I am also writing directly to him in any case, and including my full notes with detailed numbers as soon as I’ve finished measuring every aspect of Milton’s abilities.

Sincerely,

Elena Worchester, Tier 6 Water Sorceress.

PS: Mrs. Donnall reports no change whatsoever in her abilities, and her inclusion as a Mind Sorceress is not to be doubted.

Letter from Elena Worchester to Lord Warden Edgard Maistry

Edgard,

Did you fuck up? Because I would be very, very angry at throwing my weight behind someone that can miscalculate as badly as this clusterfuck promises to be. I know my late father’s family has always been one of the great pillars of the Wardenship, and all that, but I decided to help you, not because of tradition, but because you might have what it takes.

I’ve never understood why the ancient Americans didn’t finish the job, and let the remains of their enemies fester on their northern border. “Napoleonian wars” don’t excuse that.

At the moment, I’m holed in the Kootenai Garrison with Ulrico and Floriano. I don’t doubt that you’ve also gotten a report. Or multiples.

Let’s cut the bullshit. Somehow, they found out someone was slipping them Zeroluck. And they got angry. And they deserted. If you expected anything else, let Anna explain life to you. At least you can listen to your wife.

And that’s on the eve after Johanna manifested even bigger abilities.

I’ve been there for the debrief of the survivors of that ill-fated attempt at catching them. Milton may have gained abilities mid-battle previously, but they reported “Saint” Donnall is now literally blinking from one place to another to use healing abilities, before jumping back at safe distances.

And Donnal’s husband is a Hero.

Sure, he seemed a normal person, his old village didn’t suspect him to be one, and his trainers say he often got a few clumsy moments, and the four of them fed us a bunch of bulls’ balls about how he wasn’t there when they got abilities. But the survivors swear he’s able to move blades from hand to hand without actually swapping them, and no one – absolutely no one – saw him until he struck Devereaux. He walked to Captain Devereaux, in the middle of a fight, and no one saw him do that. He’s one of those. The California Ghost was only caught by pure chance, may I remind you.

You have the four most powerful Talented in history angry at you, Edgard. And that’s not good. The Hereditary Honcho of Yellowstone would probably like nothing more than getting you in trouble – as long as the frontier holds. He’s still the primary suspect behind that assassination attempt I saved you from, after all.

At least they didn’t put the garrison to the torch before running away. Because at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if they could have destroyed it just to cover their tracks.

You need to fix this, Edgard. And fast.

Although Milton was not given to yield much in the way of details, her friend Donnall let slip some more stuff.

It’s not some mana pocket that did this. They found the remains of an Ancient in the ruins. We know that old things from the time of the Ancients sometimes get imbued by powers. Imagine what it could be if an actual Ancient corpse was so enhanced. An Artifact that, rather than provide a fake Talent, can unlock real Talents.

Forget about throwing money at the problem. If they gain power every couple of months, we’ll need THAT kind of stuff if – when – they come back.

Remember the adage: Never do your enemy a small injury.

Elena.

PS: When you find it, call for me. If the Northerners haven’t realized we lost Milton and I’m not needed… I want to see if that Ancient can unlock more powers, even if you already have some.

Edgard Maistry, Warden of the Montana, winced. He hadn’t known her that angry since… well, never. She was usually more unflappable.

But I’m ahead of you, Elena.

He looked up to Adjutant Agnello. His friend’s face was composed and unreadable, full diplomat mode engaged.

“She IS pissed.”

“It was a good idea,” was Agnello’s only comment.

“From her tone, you’d think she was the Warden, not me,” Edgard laughed.

“She did save you against those assassins on the road. There are people who think that makes her responsible for whatever you do after that.”

“And for all she points me to Anna, it was her who gave me the idea, after all. After Jory and Karl, there were enough Maistrys around. Even with primogeniture, it could become a problem, and Anna’s ancestors always had half a dozen kids or more every generation.”

The Warden folded his Sorceress’ letter and dumped it on his desk.

“The corpse hint should be good. Send a courier to the expedition.”

“Am I your secretary?”

“Okay. Let him send that courier. I’m not asking you to do it yourself.”

“Actually, I’m inclined to jump on the saddle and take command at Valetta,” Agnello said.

“Could be useful.”

“With their desertion, I can even promise things like amnesty and similar to get more details from their families. I’m sure they did talk, after all,” the adjutant speculated.

“As she said, nobody talked about Peter Donnall.”

“We’ll see.”

“Meanwhile, let’s see what we can do about them.”

The commander of the wendigo Allied Forces finally admitted defeat.

“They really aren’t pushing,” Northcome Blauerschnee said.

“We got reinforced just in time, and they are probably aware of that,” another wendigo said.

“And I did tell you there’s only one sorcerer mana plume showing at the main garrison,” Snowbound Glatteis replied.

Blauerschnee threw a dark look at the wendigo hero.

“Your insane stunt worked, you mean.”

“If it works, it’s not…”

“It is. Even if it works.”

Glatteis waved dismissively.

“Thankfully, none of the tribes have heard of your improvised trick.”

“You may tell them that their absence for…” Glatteis made quote gestures “reasons is confirmed, and we do not need to fear that fire-throwing sorceress or her dreadful acolyte.”

“I will definitively not elaborate on that… reason. Lest they ask for your fur.”

Glatteis frowned.

“It’s tribesmen, after all. Full scalps and all.”