( one. ) voice • scientia potestas est [ id: nightingale ]

[ettersberg]

[ thomas nightingale does, in fact, know how to use a smartphone. he's owned one for quite a while before the end of the world; google maps in particular has always struck him as rather useful. the knowledge of how to operate such a device comes in handy now as well, though he's not entirely sure yet why he's bothering.

(the answer is peter; peter would want to know and nightingale would hate not to have any answers at all by the time his apprentice wakes up. because peter will wake up, surely. eventually.)

so there is no fumbling, no pauses when the device clicks on except deliberate ones, and a smooth, very british and posh-sounding voice inquiring: ]

It seems magic is not out of the ordinary, here. Someone has already inquired about those who believe in or practice magic, but I'd be interested to hear how magic was regulated, if at all, in your worlds. That, and whether there were particular ill-effects to it.

[ here, there is one of the aforementioned deliberate pauses. ] I'd also appreciate hearing of your experiences with employment.

Thank you.

Comments

[originallutece]

And what shapes did you imagine for this? How many people can do this in your world?

[ettersberg]

Ah. [ for a moment, nightingale's lips press together, and when he answers, it's her second question. (he wouldn't know how to describe the form, and he's not quite willing to tell her to feel it out, to try it herself. peter is his apprentice and teaching magic is not something that should be done lightly.) ] I'm one of the last.

[ the last, really. at least the last sanctioned wizard. ]

[originallutece]

For any particular reason?

[ettersberg]

[ nightingale's expression and posture both are very still when he replies: ] War. [ what else? even decades later, the war still haunts him. ]

[originallutece]

Ah.

[Well, that certainly would explain it. Though . . . this clearly is a delicate topic, but curiosity overpowers everything.]

. . . was it a war that targeted you? Or war in general, reducing the population?

[ettersberg]

Oh, general.

[ wizards hadn't even partaken in the first world war, but in the second, the germans had begun experimenting with magic and, well. that had warranted some involvement. ]

[originallutece]

Which one?

[Thank god she'd never had to live through either of the World Wars. She'd seen them, of course; she'd grabbed a history book or ten out of the future, she knows all about them. But she and Robert had missed the first by only a few years, and to imagine him in the midst of that--

Well. It's not worth thinking about.]

[ettersberg]

WWII, if you've heard of it.

[ he wouldn't wish the experience on anyone. ]

[originallutece]

Oh, yes.

Well. I'm sorry you lived through that; from what I've heard, it was a horrible war.

[ettersberg]

[ nightingale inclines his head in acknowledgement of her point. what is there to say? it was a horrible war. it's consequences were perhaps even worse, for english wizardry and for nightingale personally. ]

That's why. [ he says, in the end. that's why he's the last (sanctioned) wizard of the united kingdom. ]

[originallutece]

[She's not so nasty as to express her doubt, but she wonders. Both the world wars severely reduced the populations, and yes, she's certain wizards likely make up a fraction of that population, but to have every single one die? It seems an absurdly thing.

Then again: he had said one of the last. So perhaps he's not the only one. Perhaps the remainders of his generation had simply decided that their knowledge wasn't worth passing down (though that, she cannot imagine; who would willingly let knowledge die?).]

How was it you survived?

[ettersberg]

Luck, mostly.

[ luck and not inconsiderable skill. he'd been tasked to cover the retreat of those surviving; many had, in the end, died of their injuries and not on the battlefield. some hadn't died but broken their staves after the war, unable to cope with what they'd seen.

nightingale knows they'd looked up to him. if the nightingale can go on, so can we. he hadn't let them see his own nightmares or the times he hadn't slept at all. not then. now, there isn't anyone left to show these things to, and he has gotten better over the years.

the war was a long time ago. ]

Are you satisfied that it isn't an illusion, yet? [ he asks with a nod to the werelight that's still hovering in the air over his outstretched palm. a blatant change of topic, but he doesn't much like talking about the war. ]

[originallutece]

I didn't think it was an illusion, Mr. Nightingale. I simply don't think it's the product of magic. But yes, I'm satisfied, though I'd be greatly obliged if you'd show me something else.

[ettersberg]

[ nightingale closes his fist and the werelight disappears. ]

Anything in particular?

[originallutece]

Mm. Something offensive rather than defensive, I think.

[ettersberg]

In that case, please do stand back.

[originallutece]

[Oh, boy. Rosalind takes two steps back, watching in keen interest.]

Go on.

[ettersberg]

[ this time, there is no muttered phrase. certain combat spells are learned, from the start, in silence; it wouldn't do to warn one's enemy of what is coming, after all. nightingale moves his hand — not by much, mind — and a fireball shoots, seemingly from thin air, toward a nearby tree, crashing into it and exploding the tree. ]

[originallutece]

[She inhales sharply, her eyes widening for a few seconds, but that's the only reaction she gives. To be perfectly fair, she's seen that kind of magic before (though it wasn't magic, but rather the product of science).]

I don't suppose you could, say, levitate a man in midair, hm?

[ettersberg]

[ nightingale inclines his head, not unaware of her reaction, slight though it was, but not interested in commenting on it. ]

I could.

[originallutece]

Inflict your will upon his and make him do as you commanded?

[She seems to have a few specific ideas on what she's after here.]

[ettersberg]

[ ah. he pauses, here. ]

That's very specific.

[originallutece]

A man-- a very greedy man-- in my world once made and sold eight vigors. Drinking them could grant a person seemingly magic abilities. You could have fire at your fingertips, or lift a man from the ground, or control him for a few minutes . . . and other miracles.

It was shoddy science, but it was science nonetheless.

[ettersberg]

And you think that is where my abilities derive from as well. [ the implication is clear. nightingale considers, for a moment. ]

In that case, I doubt any further demonstrations would convince you otherwise, nor do I have any particular interest to. [ whether she thinks it magic or science, whether it is magic of science, matters relatively little to him. it works. ]

[originallutece]

No. No, I don't, because your abilities are far smoother and less painful than his. But I find the similarities between worlds endlessly fascinating-- and I admit, I hadn't expected to see something similar to home here.