Wildcard Rule of Magic: Careful with Christ

First noticing with King of Elfland's Daughter, now reaffirmed by The Broken Sword, I think this is worth noting down: you could make magic as whimsical and unknowable as it gets and I might still judge it too harshly - all thanks to our good Judean boy.



It'd be something of an addendum to the first rule, I suppose, about sciences and analyzing and quantifying, about the universe around us imposing itself to the sorcerer. It's not a hard-and-fast type of rule magic like Alchemy or Allomancy or what have you, though - it's more of an underlying implication underneath, an invisible rot that sets out to put all fantasy into decay.

Faith magic can on its own be as mysterious and unknowable, as wondrous and fantastic, as-



-as the best magic system out there... but at the end of the day, it all still relies on the premise of one true God, the creator of the world, the high being, omnipotent and omnipresent and omnieverything. The child outside the sandbox. And this being, by its very definition, always stands superior. Any other type of magic and monsters and fantasy will have their roots on pagan gods or outright devil worship, will always lose in the end - and is but an inferior shadow of the true path, trickery and lies, foolish, childish even. This kills a lot of the appeal for me.

Many other old faiths of the world - Hinduism, Greek and Norse Pantheons, etc. - don't have this issue, on account of the more polytheic nature and their capability of coexisting peacefully. They each have their version of the story of Earth's birth, how it all came to being, and you're free to come to your own conclusion and sacrifice to whichever daity you like. But Yahweh is a jealous one, and suffers no other gods or truths.



With brutal efficiency, He and His disciples set out to the world to reshape it all in their image. Pan, Loki, and Perkele, among many others - once perfectly fine and respectable deities - ended up as nothing more than an aspect of Lucifer Morningstar. Others, such as Brigid, were reduced in power to Saints, each subservient to the Lord. He is the one above all, and so His magic is above all other magic and fantasy.

Both Elfland's Daughter and Broken Sword seem to be taking this for granted. C.S. Lewis sinks deep into the same pitfall by his heavy use of allegory. Even the Vertigo line of comic books holds this as a truth, though it has other sets of gods as well. Other works can avoid the trap, but they'd typically have to go out on their way to establish Christianity as just another belief among the others, no inherently better or more truthful: the automatic assumption seems to be that if Jesus and God are out there, then they're the best and the highest. Watch yourself among them.



The Broken Sword is still a great book, though.