How to Raise a Dumb Wolf - Chapter 56

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“…I see.”

Perhaps Les was imagining it, but Carter III’s voice suddenly seemed weighed down with thought. He continued speaking as usual, yet his attention no longer seemed to be on Les.

“Your Majesty?”

Les called to him again in confusion.

“…No, it is nothing.” Carter III sounded as though he had come back to himself—and yet not entirely. For some reason, a thread of uncertainty had entered his customary confidence, robbing even his words of some of their usual force. “I will notify the Federation and have lodgings prepared for you in advance. Discreetly, of course. You need not worry.”

“Understood. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“You are welcome.” The cat emperor inclined his head. After a little thought, he added, “Since you are traveling under the pretext of a diplomatic visit, you may as well perform some actual work. You have spent quite long enough idle lately. I will have the ministers draft a brief on your duties and send it to you by eagle. Keep an eye out for it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

In truth, Les had also grown uneasy over the length of his leave. He still communicated with Carter III regularly from Wold, wrote reports remotely, and mailed them home, but his workload was far lighter than it had once been. The difference left him with the guilty sense that he had abandoned his post. Learning that his journey to Micks could count as an important assignment eased that guilt somewhat, and he accepted without hesitation.

…

Once Aisha learned that Major General Wolf might also travel to Micks, her spirits became light again.

*If you’re willing, we could… meet there again.*

The mere memory of those words made the corners of her lips curve upward. Her heart felt so full it might have been brimming with honey, and she found herself looking forward to the journey to Helman even more than before.

Time flew by, and before long, the day of their departure from Wold arrived.

Even when someone caught him in an unusually accommodating mood, it was nearly impossible to persuade an advanced mage of Eric Green’s stature to work in an ordinary place. His destination was therefore the royal palace of Micks itself. There, he intended to study the kingdom’s magic, exchange knowledge with other advanced mages in royal service, and continue teaching Thorne and Aisha.

Thorne would have more freedom to travel through Micks in search of a field that interested him and might provide inspiration for his graduation thesis. Aisha, meanwhile, had spent the better part of the past year mastering the foundations of magic, but she still depended upon her professor’s instruction. She would likely accompany Eric when he met with mages who specialized in healing.

“…Actually, ever since Professor turned down the position as court mage, our senior has kept writing to invite him. Apparently, even if Professor refused to work there permanently, he still hoped to persuade him to make a short visit. He sent letter after letter. Since they all said the same thing, Professor eventually stopped reading them and threw them away unopened. Our senior probably knows his temperament, because after that he began placing a different spell on each letter—spells that made it impossible to discard the letter without opening it first. You can probably guess the rest.”

They were standing together on the deserted deck of the ship bound for Helman. Thorne recounted the entire story without expression.

Aisha smiled helplessly.

Judging by the dates, the court mage of Micks had actually died while Aisha was still living in Philray. In that case, Eric had received the first invitation far longer ago than his phrase *several months* suggested—perhaps even more than a year ago. Eric spent every day inside the Tower and had almost no sense of time, so he had described it that way without a second thought.

After becoming Eric’s student, Aisha had indeed noticed enchanted letters arriving for him from time to time. At first, she had assumed that mages simply used magic to communicate with one another. After all, Eric effortlessly broke the spell on every letter with counter-magic, then tossed it aside without ever opening it.

She had thought the spell attached to the letter *was* the message.

How embarrassing.

After a pause, Aisha asked, “So Professor finally wrote back this time? Our senior must have been shocked.”

“Mm.”

Thorne nodded, his gaze flicking over Aisha’s face without drawing attention.

In truth, *shocked* scarcely began to describe the other man’s reaction. He had probably turned the letter over dozens of times before he dared believe it was truly written in Eric’s hand and not some elaborate prank. The senior could never have imagined receiving his professor’s consent in his lifetime. The only reply Eric had ever sent him before had read: *Your spellcraft is getting worse. If you cannot even design a spell this simple, come back and rewrite your graduation thesis.*

The next month, Eric had received a letter protected by a large composite array formed from three linked magic arrays.

He had still dismantled it in five minutes.

Although she had never met this senior, Aisha could vividly imagine a young mage staring at Eric’s letter of acceptance in terror and disbelief. Unable to help herself, she laughed.

“Why did Professor agree this time, anyway? Did the letters finally annoy him into it? Or was it for your graduation thesis? Or perhaps… my innate magic?”

“…Who knows?”

Thorne answered casually. He leaned forward, rested his elbows on the rail, and propped his chin in one hand as he turned to look at her. The sea wind blew hard enough to toss both their hair straight back from their foreheads.

The wolf’s fur, too.

After chatting a little longer, Aisha moved aside to stroke the giant wolf who had been standing near her all this time. The wind had swept all his gray fur backward, making it look longer than usual and exposing his eyes and the contours of his face. Somehow, it made him appear even more stern and silent.

Since they boarded the ship, Aisha’s closeness with the giant wolf had become far more apparent than before. He followed her almost everywhere. The vessel, specially dispatched by the royal palace of Micks to collect them, was not large to begin with, so the wolf’s constant presence at her side, like a personal guard, was impossible to miss.

Thorne watched Aisha pet the wolf for a long while. Then she began to worry that the sea wind might make him ill and led him back into the cabin. Only after they had gone did Thorne look away.

Eric would never admit it plainly, but Thorne knew him extremely well.

Eric’s refusal to leave the Tower of Magic was, to a great extent, a matter of wasted time and lack of necessity. Wold was the Heart of the World. Goods and visitors from every nation arrived there with ease, and nowhere offered more comprehensive access to news from beyond its borders. If Eric wanted information, remaining in Wold was the most efficient choice.

But because he had to visit the Free Arena and guide Aisha in the use of her innate magic, Eric had been forced to leave the Tower more frequently than ever before and mingle with crowds from countless races. Thorne had first noticed the effect of that repeated contact two or three months ago.

The patients waiting at the arena often passed the time by chatting with one another, and some spoke with Aisha as well. Eric had apparently learned something from those conversations—something different from what he found in books—and it had caught his interest. Those frequent outings had also begun to accustom him to the very act of leaving the Tower. It no longer seemed quite as intolerable as it once had.

Three or four weeks ago, Thorne had noticed Eric reading the latest letter from Micks.

*Aisha Killott…*

Thorne pressed his lips together.

The person he had initially worried about had, in turn, begun to change Eric, a man deeply resistant to change. The realization left Thorne with unexpectedly complicated feelings. To anyone else, the effect might seem negligible, but those familiar with Eric Green knew that even the smallest change in him was extraordinary.

Still, whatever else happened, Aisha seemed to have found her footing. She was beginning to shine steadily now, and Thorne probably no longer needed to worry about her.

Except for…

Never mind. He could not be certain of that matter in the first place. Besides… he would graduate soon.

Chin still propped in one hand, Thorne gazed over the calm blue sea and its rolling waves. After a long time, he slowly lowered his eyes.

…

Several days had passed by the time they arrived in Micks.

Eric suffered terribly from seasickness. When he finally emerged from the room he had covered in magic arrays in a desperate attempt to make it feel steadier, he was still deathly pale as he descended the gangplank. Aisha and Thorne had to support him from either side until Eric waved them away.

“…Do not worry. It is probably psychological. The last time I traveled by ship, I… did not react this badly.”

His last voyage, however, had taken place before Aisha was born.

Aisha smiled helplessly. Once Eric’s steps grew visibly steadier, she exchanged a glance with Thorne. He gave the slightest nod, and only then did they let go.

“Are you all right?”

After leaving Eric, Aisha returned to Les’s side and asked the question softly, concern in her voice.

Les would have liked to answer her gentle inquiry, but in his animal form, he could not speak. Instead, he pretended it was mere chance as he circled her once, using his tail and body to wrap her in a loose ring and demonstrate that he was perfectly healthy.

The fur brushing Aisha’s neck made her laugh and squirm away. At last reassured, she gave Les a quick, tight hug. Then she noticed Eric and Thorne waiting a few steps away, came back to herself, and motioned for Les to hurry after them.

…

The royal palace in the capital still lay several days inland from the coastal port. Although the queen had sent carriages and mages to receive them, they would have to spend a few nights on the road.

That evening, they were lodged at a count’s estate near the port city. They were “important guests of the queen,” so although the count understood little about magic, he received them with considerable ceremony and assigned them rooms reserved for honored visitors.

After Aisha fell asleep that night, Les lay quietly watching her face for a long while before finally closing his eyes.

Once she reached the royal palace in the capital of Micks, he would be able to meet her openly—and with perfect legitimacy—as Les Wolf.

The thought filled him with nervous anticipation. With that restless excitement stirring in his heart, he gradually drifted to sleep as well.