If It Were Possible, Let It Be So
I apologize, my dear, for the strange methods by which I sent this letter. I am still in exile and this could be traced back to me if I used ordinary methods.
I have good news, though. I will be returning soon. While my offense has not been forgotten, I have gained new skills I think the Queens of the Court will find too useful to waste.
After the regrettable misunderstanding that forced me to leave, I fled to the human realms and attempted to pass for mortal. This was more difficult than I expected; they are no longer accustomed to dealing with their betters, as a rule, so it was difficult to find a persona that would receive the respect we are accustomed to. Still, it was not immensely difficult, and after I got used to the constant presence I learned to pretend to humility.
Where it became truly interesting, though, is when I met a professor of Mathematics and Logic from a college nearby. I first noticed him because of his diffident manner and extremely precise was of speaking; I was a bit afraid he was another Sidhe. His cold iron bracelet ruled that out, though, and the next time he was drinking at the same tavern as me, I struck up a conversation.
It turned out that from our habits of thought around what things are true or not true, I at least had a talent for mathematical thinking, and that practitioners and professors of mathematics are known for eccentricity and aloofness. I had found an excellent cover for my time here. A bit of glamour, though risky, got me into the university and without monetary worries, and decided to spend a few years improving my disguise and posing as a student. Soon enough, I was a graduate student and studied with the same fey-like professor. And then I had officially graduated.
It was about that point that I started to realize the usefulness of the logical methods in other situations. It's no real secret, I think, that even among our nobility many envy mortals their ability to lie. Few would admit it, of course, but the fact remains that dissembling without making any false statements is just not as good. Once I had left the academy, I started noticing it was far easier for me to make statements that were apparently false, but actually true.
For example, as I sit here in a house in the city, I can tell you truly that all the cows in my view are bright orange. This is a true statement; there are no cows in my view, and so no ordinary cow exists to contradict my absurd claim. This might sound useless, but consider this: "The Summer Court's plans for an attack next year require us to respond immediately!" This is not false at all. Those plans do not exist, so it is true that all of them require an immediate response. It is this that will make me indispensable.
Well, in any case, I have spent a great deal of time as a practicing mathematician. I have little interest in the building of elaborate theories underpinning the whole structure, as many of the kind do, but I am quite good at solving smaller problems. It is also excellent exercise in thinking in rigorous logical terms, which is absolutely necessary for the techniques I will need back in Faerie. I have gotten quite a reputation, since I travel widely, visiting other mathematicians for short periods to do mathematics with them, then leaving and staying with a different group for a time; I have been quite prolific, as they judge these things, and the other strange habits I have displayed (I've feigned an addiction to a powerful stimulant, though it doesn't affect us) hide the oddities that might lead them to suspect I am not mortal.
This persona has aged, though, and I fear it will be suspicious if I last much longer as a mortal. I think I will have him age gracefully and leave soon. Perhaps in Warsaw; I quite like Poland.
