Conuld sits a little way away. "When Althor first showed me his spellbook, he asked if I wanted to copy certain spells of enchantment. I looked them over, but something struck me as morally questionable about them. Yes, I realise that I might use magic to incinerate an enemy, but at least that enemy has the choice to attack or surrender or run away. If I charmed or hypnotised them, I would take that choice away from them, or compel them to act against their very nature. Somehow, that seems worse. And there are other uses of such spells, in everyday life, which surely must present a constant temptation to those with the ability. No, on the whole, I am glad to know nothing of enchantment, or necromancy. Or perhaps I am just rationalizing my complete failure to comprehend the arcane formulae. I was more interested in other types of magic, in any case."
Conuld falls silent. After a while, he makes some clumsy motions with one arm. "No, it is no good. I can no longer remember the proper sequence. Well, certainly, it was a surprise when the lancing ray of heat burst from my palm when it did. Somehow I must practise so that my hand is facing in precisely the direction I require at the moment I speak the final word."
