This letter is penned early in 1224, while winter still reigns over Mons Electi. It is written in a simple hand, with rather thin letters, on one of Mons Electi's excellent parchments; the impression in the wax seal seems to have been made with a coin of some sort.
Salve, Aurulentus ex Jerbiton.
Perhaps it is bold to hope that you remember me from fifteen years ago or so, during a period when you were visiting the covenant of Voluntas. When my neighbor Julia mentioned your presence in a message, I composed a letter of introduction for you, in which I described briefly (among other things) the work I was engaged in that related to discerning from afar the locations of people. You were kind enough to respond then, making some key points about the interactions of such designs with the Parma Magica, which (as it turns out) I was able to successfully integrate into my inventions once I had mastered the incantations in question. More importantly for my present purposes, you wrote in some detail about your research into human fertility; hence when the particular issue I am about to describe arose, you were the first magus I thought to write. I hope you will forgive this unheralded query.
There is a faithful servant here at my covenant, a young lady not too far into adulthood: she and her husband had some difficulty conceiving their daughter, and the obstacle seems to be even more entrenched now, as they have not been able to extend their family. Perhaps it is simple misfortune, as the interval has been only two years and a half; yet I would desire to give her what assistance I can, at least to see about a diagnosis. Some of my thoughts follow on the ceremony I might concoct to delve into the causes of her infertility or that of her husband; but I wholeheartedly seek and invite your commentary, for it is no secret that your expertise on such matters far exceeds my own and perhaps that of any known magus.
First, although my knowledge of natural philosophy is meagre, I would like to discuss the body's humours. It seems to me that the Technique of Intellego needs to be coaxed into separating the humours from one another, perhaps by invoking the various planets in turn from an astrological casting. I wonder, however, whether the following approach to investigating (for the sake of example) the phlegmatic might have some hope of succeeding.... (There follows almost a page and a half of discussion concerning the Form of Corpus and its ability to mimic the medicinal diagnoses of a trained doctor.)
By the way, I should mention that although my first introduction to you was as a member of Nigrasaxa, I have left Stonehenge and am now on the council at Mons Electi, a new but prosperous covenant in the Normandy Tribunal. We are often considered a Flambeau covenant by those who have met us, but the reality is broader and more complex. Of course this is scarcely closer to your home than was Stonehenge; still, know that you have my welcome and that of my sodales should you find yourself nigh. Please accept my prayers for God's blessings upon your wife and children, as well as my utmost regard for you.
Sincerely,
Tranquillina Bonisagi
((If anyone wants to respond to this, that's great; but I know that correspondence is a little up in the air right now. This particular letter fits well with the story playing out with Tranquillina, Moire, and Viscaria, so I wanted to go ahead and write it no matter what.))