First, you have to understand about the relationship between our worlds. It’s very one-sided, but very thorough.
If we’ve done our job right, this is the first time you’ve ever heard about the world of Mithden. This is perfectly fine by us. We don’t want your world to know about us. The reasons for that are many and varied, and they’re mostly political stuff.
But the point is, we know everything about your world. We know about your advancements in science, we know about your languages, we know about your people. We’ve referenced your measurements (hours, minutes, feet) throughout this letter, and that’s because those are what you know, and you’ll understand it.
We’ve sent things over to your world. Batteries. Light bulbs. Caerthin, even, although you know it by a different name, which it probably wouldn’t be good to tell you about. People, too. The very first humans on your world came from Mithden.
You do, however, have things that we don’t. Plastic, and certain metals that prevent us from ever having things like guns and cars and computers, and maybe it’s better that way. I certainly don’t miss them.
We have to get rid of the sorcerers, though. That’s the main point. We don’t want to kill them, because we’re wizards.
(Actually, a lot of us, including me, would much rather kill the sorcerers than what we’re going to do, but it wasn’t our decision.)
Sorry about that. The...weirdest thing just happened. Or not, if you know Lymlock.
The three of us who’ve been writing this letter, me, Akeelay, and Lymlock, are all in a caerthin-lined room, the door locked from the outside. This way Lymlock can’t escape, but if he tries anything, I have magyk to stop him. So I was writing, and, well, maybe Akeelay should write this.