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In the house of Walter Pole, there was a drawing room with many splendid paintings showing Venice’s sea and Venice’s sky and the streets of that Italian city with such bright, delightful colors that the lights seemed to spill from the paintings and illuminate the room. Inside that room, there was a fireplace and a high-backed blue sopha. On the sopha was a woman. She was young, pretty and elegantly dressed and would look like she was at the height of youthful health and beauty if not for the fact her face was rather pale, with no pleasing bloom on her cheeks and that she was leaning on the back with lethargy.
Since breakfast time, she had been sitting on the chair, her eyes sometimes trained on the mirror above the fireplace, sometimes moved to the dancing fire burning in the grate, consuming the dark wood and turning them into grayish dust or sometimes directed towards the carpet at her feet. She barely moved and when she did, it was simply to adjust the shawl that was about to fall off her shoulders. When the fire burned lower and lower, she continued unmoving, not deigning even to ring the bell to ask the servants to put more wood into the fire.
When the fire was about to burn down, a maid came, quietly put some logs into the fire and left the room as soon as her work was finished. The woman did not react, her eyes did not have that spark of recognition other people’s eyes would have when a person walked into a room.
Fueled by the logs, the fire burned higher. It was likely the fire would burn brightly for the next hour at least or so but suddenly, it retreated into itself and its flickering became minimal, as if it was almost frozen. The room became colder. Today was not a dark day so the sunlight had been shining into the room but suddenly, it was as if the glass was covered over with mist and all the light coming from outside was dreary and had a blueish tint. The beautiful Venice’s sky and Venice’s sea were now grey as if the sun in those pictures were covered with ominous clouds.
Only then did the woman react. Her head moved from the left, then to the right with fear, confusion and disdain. She seemed to have yet find anything because her eyes did not stop searching all over the room for something. Then those eyes paused on the fire. Despite the abundant fuel, the fire was burning low but other than that, it was not unusual because it was possible the logs were simply not dry enough (of course, the woman also was very much aware that Stephen would never allow wet logs to be used in her or Sir Walter’s quarters) and like most small fires, it was blue in the middle with a orange and yellow outline. But there was something unusual about this fire, it was as if the center of the fire was a very deep, bewitching blue and maybe that blue color seemed to take such a form that if she looked closely, it appeared to have two hands and two legs. Also, was that a head? Weren’t those little blue spikes very similar to hair? And didn’t the blue part of the fire take such a form so that her eyes could almost see a very handsome face with sharp features?
“Good morning, Lady Pole.” The sound that came could almost be mistaken for the crackle of the fire.
Lady Pole, for the woman sitting on the sopha was Lady Pole, had an even colder expression on her face.
“Did you come on business for the King of Lost-hope?”
“No, of course. I came here entirely because I wanted to meet your ladyship for I have heard much about your beauty and grace. Certainly, the rumours did not do your justice, you are much more beautiful in person than words ever can convey.”
Lady Pole was hardly responsive to the flattery. From the look on her face, she simply wanted whatever was in the fire to be gone.
“Now that you have seen me and confirmed the rumours for yourself, I believe you have no reason to stay?”
There was a crackle from the fire that sounded quite like laughter. Unpertubed by Lady Pole’s rudeness, the figure in the fire said,
“I came not simply because I wanted to see you, Lady Pole. My people have a belief that great beauty denotes great skills and ability. The handsomest tend to be the most intelligent, the most powerful and the most gifted, after all. This, of course, does not simply apply to our race but also to Christians because the most powerful Christian magicians, such as The Raven King and Ralph Stokesey, have always been the foremost in their grace and beauty so it is natural that the unsightly magicians of current England hardly can ever compare to those great magicians.”
“I do not see how this can apply to me.”
“I believe that with the beauty you possess, you have the potential to perform magic better than either of those unattractive men. As a person who loves to find out talents and nurture it to its full potential, I came here to offer to become your teacher.”
Lady Pole did not respond immediately, the offer must have appeared quite strange to her. When she did, her voice was firm.
“Sir, I have no interest in magic and would not benefit from your instructions. Please let me rest. I am very tired.”
“You only have no interest in it because you have not yet learned about the power of magic to aid you in your wish. When one has an enemy one wishes to destroy,” Lady Pole’s eyes flashed strangely when the figure in the fire said this, “or when one wishes to escape from certain circumstances such as imprisonment or hardships,” Lady Pole’s fingers gripped the edge of the shawl, “magic will have many uses. I believe you will have many reasons to use magic, do you not have any persons to use it for or against?”
The lethargic expression on Lady Pole’s face, which had not shown much emotion in the last few years, was animated with determination.
“Sir, I will be your most diligent student.”
It was likely he had a motive for teaching her magic but if magic gave her the power to break free from her circumstances, she would learn it.
Lady Pole could not describe what he taught her then in English and she believed no human language would be able to encapsulate what he said then or the days after that.
How did the Raven King teach magic to his human followers? And how did Mr Norrell teach magic to Mr Strange?
Every morning, the figure would appear in the fire in her drawing room and every time she would listen to what he said, which would appear to make so much sense when he spoke it inside the darkened room illuminated by the dreary light through the misty windows. But what did she actually learn? Were they the movements her hands have to make in certain spells? Were they the words of enchantments or exhortations to saints and saintesses? Or was it communication? When he came, the world was responsive, inanimate objects had words and voices and they were objecting or agreeing. And sometimes, she could talk to them, too and was overwhelmed with the sensation that the world she was in was much more alive, more magical than she thought it could possibly be. But then when the figure was gone and the fire sprung up and burned brightly once more, the world became quiet. Still, there remained a tiny whisper that she could almost hear but could not make out the words.
Lady Pole had only been able to perform simple spells like making doors open when she wanted them to and find out where objects she wished to find were but she knew, once she could understand that whisper, she would be able to perform real magic, the kind that Aureate magicians once performed when the Raven King sat on the Northern throne.
It was one month since the figure in the fire started teaching her. The first words he told her when he appeared in the fire once more were this,
“Lady Pole, I believe you are ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“In the first month, I have gradually introduced to the fundamentals and I believe you are capable of performing this very powerful spell.”
“Is it possible? I have only done minor ones.”
“I believe you are capable because you certainly are one of my cleverest students.”
“What spell is it, Sir?”
“It is a spelll…to restore things back to where they were supposed to be, I believe.”
“It is for finding lost objects?”
“It is more like it ensures that the people in the wrong places will be removed and cleaned away, to make way for the rightful.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, I think you understand me. Tomorrow night, when this note rang out at about midnight,” He sang a note whose pitch was unlike anything she ever heard, “you simply need to lead the person who should not be there,” The thin blue lines that made for lips curved up in a sinister smile, “you surely know who this person is, outside of the main chamber to the hall on the left which is, next to the tree with oak, hawthorn and ivy leaves. Then when you meet two diverging paths, you take the one on the left and continue moving. You will then come to a courtyard on which the full moon will shine. Make sure that person is in the circle of light the full moon makes on the ground, make these movements while chanting these words.” He said some incomprehensible words which she memorized. “Then that person would simply disappear and order would be restored, things returned to their rightful places.”
Lady Pole’s eyes, which had been dull and lifeless for the last few years, were lit up hopefully. However, she could not yet allow herself to hope.
“Then what would happen?”
“I would make sure to take care of Lost-hope and you would be able to exercise great power as a person held in high esteem by me.”
Then he talked of gold and jewelry and treasure and all kinds of pleasure to be gained from power. Lady Pole did not need them but she kept that opinion to herself.
“He is a very powerful person, would that spell ensure he is gone for good?” Lady Pole asked.
“Oh, after you say it, there will be nothing left of him. That spell would even be able to reduce his soul to nothing if he had one! Oh, you have to make sure to hurry, though; if the circle of light disappears from the courtyard or is no longer a complete circle, the spell will not work.”
When that night came, Lady Pole was summoned to ballroom once she laid down and closed her eyes. As usual, The Gentleman danced with her. Then Lady Pole heard the note. As soon as the dance ended and as they came across Stephen, Lady Pole said to the Gentleman,
“Sir, yesterday, you told me about the delightful things you did during the fourteenth century to aid the Raven King, which made him swear eternal friendship to you and help whenever you asked. I think Stephen would love to hear such a story.”
“Yes, surely.” The Gentleman said gleefully and while he was recounting the story to a confused Stephen, Lady Pole slipped away to the hall next to the tree sprouting oak, hawthorn and ivy leaves. The after running for a while, she came to a dead end with two paths on the left and the right. She chose the one on the left. This path seems interminable but finally, she came to a courtyard. There was a circle of light created by the full moon right next to the door leading to the courtyard. It was likely that in the next few minutes, the moon would move and the circle would no longer be complete as the light would be obstructed by the castle.
Lady Pole stepped onto the circle of light. Holding her hand up, she made the sight and chanted the words that were taught to her. For this sin, she would no longer able to go to heaven but neither would she go to hell. It would be good for her to be reduced to nothing, to lose all consciousness and all this misery.
With every word, she could feel power gathering in the air and concentrating on the circle of light she was in.
But as she was about to say the final word, a hand grabbed at her arm and pulled. The power dispersed.
Lady Pole looked angrily at the person who grabbed her. It was Stephen.
“Why did you do it, Stephen? Let me go.”
She yanked back her arm from his hand and looked back at the circle of light. But the circle was no longer complete.
The moment was gone.
Sinking down onto the ground, there was nothing for Lady Pole to do but to break into sobs.