A Stroll, Part 1

From the following day, Kuuga began bringing books into the office and held study sessions with Louis, sitting across the low table in front of the sofa.

Louis, while not so knowledgeable as to earn the title of a true scholar, seemed up to the task since what he needed to teach consisted mainly of the customs of this country and world.

Those who visited the office, upon seeing Kuuga’s new routine, all showed surprise, yet no one made any effort to explain it. Because of this, rumors spread throughout the castle.

What Kuuga chiefly learned was about the country of Lagra, the daily lives of its people, the threat of magical beasts, the nature of magic, and the imminent war with a neighboring country.

Of these, the subject that most piqued Kuuga’s curiosity was magic. It was perhaps childish wonder, but the sight of magic thrilled him.

Gadilas had once given him a brief explanation, but Louis provided far more detail.

Magic, it turned out, did not “convert” magic power in a simple sense, but instead was more accurately referred to as spirit magic. By offering up magic power as compensation, one formed a temporary, simple contract with a spirit to borrow its power.

Blood was required as a medium to transfer magic power to the spirit, and a magic circle served much like a contract document.

It also emerged that not every human possessed magic power. Only a portion of the population did, and among them, only males. Still, about eighty percent of men seemed to have magic power.

Gadilas had used a magical tool quite naturally that day, but it was not at all common to use such devices in ordinary homes. After all, not just anyone could use them, and even more so, magical tools were extremely expensive.

Miniaturizing a magical tool required particularly rare and costly ores. Therefore, it was uncommon for anyone to own several of these tools, and even among those who called themselves magicians, most possessed only one or two portable devices at best.

Famous magicians were known by nicknames corresponding to their specialty spells, but it seemed that, rather than their innate magic, it was more about which magical tool they owned.

The book Louis used to explain magic featured an illustration of someone, thick tome in one hand, drawing a circle on the ground. Since memorizing the right circle for each purpose was difficult, it seemed most magicians carried a compilation of useful circles with them.

Magic, while useful, struck Kuuga as troublesome in many ways. Life would be simpler if one could simply recite a spell and have magic happen instantly.

Thus did Kuuga gradually accumulate knowledge, and whenever he had questions, he would painstakingly compose sentences and Louis would answer them.

There was one thing he most wanted to ask, but he could not bring himself to raise it in Gadilas’s presence. He still did not know the reason Gadilas was so poorly regarded.

He half-hoped someone would let it slip, but it seemed to be such common knowledge that it went unspoken, an unmentioned rule observed by all.

He now recalled that, during the ritual, someone had exclaimed, “That vile woman’s offspring…!” Perhaps Gadilas’s mother was of low birth, or something to that effect.

Kuuga was inclined to think it shouldn’t matter that much, but the sheer number of people looking at Gadilas with such eyes suggested otherwise. Was it really so crucial here, or was there perhaps another, deeper reason?

Kuuga also felt less inclined than before to explain his own circumstances. Though he could convey his thoughts by assembling words, it was so time-consuming, and composing long sentences was taxing, so he could say little in detail.

He feared wounding Gadilas again with a half-formed explanation, and resolved to wait until he had found a better way to communicate his true intentions.

For these reasons, Kuuga and Louis limited their study sessions to two or three hours a day, spending the rest of their time strolling about the castle.

At the very least, they hoped to familiarize people within the castle with Kuuga’s presence.

“Master Kuuga, shall we visit the courtyard today?”

While they walked the castle, Louis spoke to Kuuga with a frequency verging on excess. His intent was to let the castle’s residents witness Kuuga’s responses.

The courtyard was much larger and more beautifully tended than Kuuga had expected.

As they stepped outside, a floating island—the mid-sized one—was visible directly overhead. Farther north, from what Kuuga could see, there was a floating island even larger than the rest.

According to what he’d read, Divine Beasts were able to see these islands. If that, indeed, was the island where the gods lived, he wondered if it were invisible to human eyes.

“Is something the matter, Master Kuuga?”

‘Hey, can you see that?’

He pointed toward the sky with his nose. Louis followed Kuuga’s gaze and looked upward, then tilted his head in slight confusion.

“Lovely weather today, isn’t it?”

That’s not what I meant. Could it really be that he can’t see it? Even though the island is plainly visible to me.

While he pondered the best way to ask the question and get a clear answer, he suddenly noticed something odd.

‘…Come to think of it, there’s no shadow from the island…’

With such a massive object floating in the sky, you’d expect the ground on the sun’s far side to be cast into some degree of shadow. Was the island so distant that the shadow was negligible? Still, there should be at least some effect.

If that island was constructed so as not to block the sunlight, or if it truly could not be seen by human eyes—

‘Does a god truly reside there…?’

As Kuuga mused, Louis must have decided he was merely lost in thought, for he gently patted Kuuga’s back.

“Master Kuuga, the Lurun flowers are in full bloom right now. From here, they look just like a yellow carpet.”

‘Huh? …Oh, that powerful smell—it’s those flowers, isn’t it?’

Prompted by Louis, Kuuga set aside his thoughts for later and made his way toward the flowerbed at the courtyard’s center. The yellow flowers called Lurun stretched as far as the eye could see—it was a beautiful sight, but the scent was so strong it nearly made his nose curl.

As Kuuga and Louis approached the flowerbed, suddenly the Lurun flowers began to squirm and dance in unison.

‘!?’

Startled by the bizarre sight, Kuuga instinctively stepped back. Hoping for an explanation, he looked at Louis, who regarded the scene with the same incredulity.

It was like gazing at a field of dancing flowers—enough to make one uneasy. What on earth was wrong with these blooms?

“These flowers nourish themselves on the ambient magic in the air. When they detect magic, they sometimes move to take in more, but… I’ve never seen them all move at once like this.”

‘…I-is that so?’

Apparently, there was nothing inherently strange about the flowers moving; Louis himself was surprised, it seemed, only by the scale of their activity.

Louis, who had been staring at the flowerbed, turned his gaze sharply toward Kuuga.

“Master Kuuga, are you, by any chance, leaking magic power everywhere?”

‘Eh?’

He says that as though it were obvious. Sensing Kuuga’s confusion, Louis muttered, “We’ll have to work on your control over your magic.”

Kuuga had read that Divine Beasts possessed magic power, but never having felt it himself, he now reflected hazily that, yes, it really did exist.

“There’s also tea made from these flowers. Would you care to try it?”

‘Tea? For me?’

He’d enjoyed tea when he was human, but now, in this canine form, the idea felt absurd.

Imagining himself sticking his tongue into a teacup made Kuuga’s face twist with uncertainty. Noticing this, Louis gave a wry smile, as if guessing exactly what Kuuga was thinking.