“Draw this pattern,” Olivander said.

Gregory looked at the pattern carefully. It was easy on the surface, a simple circle with a couple lines drawn within. The symbol Olivander drew earlier had been more complicated.

Gregory started with the circle, making a ring with his glowing finger.

“Stop, stop,” Olivander said, waving a hand through the ring and dispersing the mana. “You don’t need to be perfect, intent matters, but your circle at least needs to have the ends meet. Where did you learn to draw?”

“Nowhere?”

“A correct answer! You clearly can’t. So before we get on with the rest of this ritual, you’re going to draw circles until they’re perfect. Get going!”

Gregory made another attempt, but it fizzled out with only half the circle drawn.

“Oww, why does running out of mana hurt my head?”

“Because your body is trying to push past its limits, and your brain is telling you that’s a bad idea. I forgot about your abysmally low mana. I did say it was a rest day, so you get some rest, and when your mana recovers, practice more circles.”

Gregory sat back and closed his eyes, relaxing, but he focused inwards, watching the cloud that was his mana pool slowly fade back into existence.

It was dusk when they arrived in the next town. Olivander hadn’t told him what it was called, and Gregory had little to no knowledge of geography. The caravan would normally camp just outside town, in or under their wagons, but with two gold coins burning a hole in the leader’s pocket, they booked rooms at an Inn in town for everyone. Gregory secretly praised the man, but he thought Olivander looked slightly irritated. He didn’t ask.

“A real bed,” Gregory’s muffled voice came from a pillow he was currently trying to become one with. “I never knew I’d miss the luxury of just sleeping on something other than the ground.”

Olivander prodded his bed nearby, a small frown on his face. They had a room together, as the caravan leader had kept parties grouped together.

“I guess one night in this place won’t be too bad. Get some rest Gregory, you need to get up early to get your run in before the caravan departs. If you don’t you’ll be running along side it.”

* * *

Just after dark was the best time to find a spot to settle in. Cooper had, of course, taken a nice afternoon nap on a porch, but he had to leave before the owners came home. It wasn’t that they didn’t like him sleeping on their porch, on the contrary, they had set up a bed and everything. It was more due to the fact they clearly wanted to capture him. To make him their own.

Cooper liked people, they were good, and they had those nice fingers that could scratch just right, but he was a dog who loved his freedom. He wouldn’t be bound by the lives and imagination of others. No! He had aspirations, dreams, and goals! He didn’t know what any of those were right now, except maybe the goal of finding a nice place to sleep, but he knew he would have them someday. Joining a family, as nice as they were, just wasn’t in the cards for him.

After slinking around for a while, he found the cabbage cart from yesterday to be empty of cabbages and had been washed out and overturned. Damn! He liked that spot. It had been cozy and sheltered from the wind, and he didn’t mind the odd bite of cabbage. He wasn’t going to make a meal out of it, but he could appreciate it in small quantities.

He saw a group of unfamiliar people coming in from the main gate. They smelled like road dust and random things. A caravan. That was an opportunity. Caravans had two things: covered wagons, great for catching some shuteye, and supplies, often in the form of new and interesting foods. Usually they slept with their wagons, and Cooper didn’t approach, but tonight it seemed they were opting for comfort and luxury. He’d be a fool to miss out on a chance like this.

He didn’t bother with the front gates. The watchmen knew him, but they had tried to catch him before. He had some wagons to investigate and didn’t have time to be running away from guards half the night.

* * *

Olivander pushed Gregory out the door just before dawn.

“Run hard, my boy! You’re getting into shape, not sightseeing.”

Gregory groaned, but he started running down the packed dirt street.

Back inside, Olivander sampled some of the available breakfast options. There was the standard fare, eggs, bacon or sausages, some kind of vegetable hash, but then he noticed something he’d never tried before.

“Breakfast bread pudding?” he asked the innkeeper behind the bar.

“Yeah, it’s my specialty. It’s a bit like a regular bread pudding, but I make it more eggy and put dried fruits in there. Would you like to try it?”

“I’d like to try everything! Do you have anything I could pack the extras in? My friend is out for a run and will probably be hungry when he gets back, but we might be getting back on the road by then.”

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“Sure, I’ll see what I can find.”

A half hour later, Olivander and most of the caravanners were back with the wagons. Gregory hadn’t come back yet, but he’d swing by where they parked the wagons, and then just start heading south until he met up with them.

Olivander turned as he heard a commotion from a few wagon’s down.

“Get OUT you mangy mutt!” the caravan leader yelled at a dog. He aimed a kick at it, but the dog was nimble and dashed by easily. “Ate half our travel biscuits, damn dog!”

Olivander looked at the dog carefully as it ran towards him. There was something about it that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. A familiar feeling. Instinct told him he should find out more about the dog.

The dog was fast, and he wouldn’t be able to catch it without a few tricks, but he only needed one trick. The dog ran into a portal and then crashed into Olivander.

He caught the dog.

“Whoa there. I just want to talk, Be Calm,” he cast a calming spell on the animal, who relaxed a little, but still had wild panic in his eyes.

“Good job catching the thief, Olivander. We should turn it in. This town probably doesn’t want thieving strays running around.”

“I’ll handle the dog. Here, for your lost travel rations,” he tossed the man another coin.

When he saw gold, his face brightened immediately. “You’re welcome to do as you please with the dog, of course, thank you, Olivander.”

Olivander tossed the still pacified dog into the back of his wagon and climbed in after it.

Cooper wasn’t sure how the man had caught him. He had run by him? It didn’t matter. He had been dumb for eating so many of those biscuits. It had left him lethargic and he slept in too long. He would have never just stayed at the scene of a theft like that if he hadn’t been stuffed to the gills.

“Hey there,” the man, he had heard the name Olivander, said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to keep you safe. Here, have some food.”

The man set down a paper sack and tore it open. Cooper’s mouth began to water as soon as he smelled it. He usually lived off biscuits, fruit, and extra bones from the butcher. A breakfast with eggs and bacon was something he could only dream about. He didn’t need to be told twice, and dug in.

Maybe this guy was alright. He kept the shouting guy away at least.

“My name is Olivander. I’m a magician, and something about you has tickled my senses.”

In Cooper’s experience, the senses of humans weren’t anything to brag about, so he had no idea what this man could be talking about. The wagon started rolling down the road, but Cooper was content to eat for a moment and listen to the man.

“I have a spell ritual that will allow us to communicate. Would you like to be able to communicate with people? It’s rather permanent, and won’t take hold unless you want it to. Does that sound alright?”

Cooper paused from his meal, he was honestly still a little full from all the biscuits. He looked up at the man. He was able to communicate with people in a fashion. Humans were pretty good at recognizing what he was trying to get through to them but not always. Yes, being able to communicate with people would be nice to have. He did his best approximation of a human nod.

“Splendid! You just keep doing your thing there, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Cooper continued eating, but he glanced up to see what the man was doing. He had pulled a big glowing purple book from somewhere. He was reading from it, and drawing a circle in the air. Cooper had never seen anyone do that before, but humans were always doing weird things he had never seen before.

Swallowing the last bites of food, Cooper licked the bag clean. Then the man started to chant.

“Through the forest glade and into the realm of fae, where ancient secrets lie hidden and lost knowledge stays forgotten. I open the book of the ancient path of druids. Let the power of animal telepathy flow through into the human realm.”

A green glow appeared in the middle of the circle of runes the human had drawn. Then he kept chanting.

“The intent of a spell is the heart of its power, I call upon the power of a Magus to reverse one such intent, invert the captured spell and extend its powers outward, Spell Inversion!”

The nebulous green light shifted, becoming an arrow of green energy.

“Spell binding!” the man shouted, and the green arrow shot into Cooper.

He didn’t have any time to dodge. This was the end. Oh how he had so much more to live. He would die peacefully though, having experienced a last meal fit for a king.

“How do you feel?” the man asked.

“What? I’m not dying,” Cooper thought.

“No, you are not.”

“Wait…you heard my thoughts? You can hear me?”

“Hear? No, but it’s not so different. I have given you a version of animal telepathy. It usually allows the person with the ability to talk to animals, but in your case, I flipped it. It gives you the ability to talk to people.”

“You can do that? Why hasn’t anyone done this before? It would make life so much easier.”

“I’m afraid not everyone is a powerful Magus, capable of calling hidden powers from forgotten realms and sculpting them to their needs.”

“I’m just a dog, but that sounded like you were bragging.”

“I’m not above the occasional boast.”

A voice called in from behind the wagon.

“Occasional?”

A very sweaty and large human caught up to the wagon as it slowly rolled and climbed in. The smell of sweat and hard work was strong on him, but Cooper didn’t mind it.

“A dog? Why do you have a dog?”

“He doesn’t have me! I’m my own dog.”

Startled, the sweaty human jumped back, falling out of the back of the wagon.

“I didn’t mean to frighten him.”

“He’s fine, falls out of things and into things on a regular basis. But people aren’t going to expect a dog to be able communicate with them, you may get the occasional negative reaction.”

The human climbed back in, still sweaty, but now also covered in dirt.

“You are filthy!” Olivander said.

“Wait! No! That’s not going to help anything!”

Before the man could react, he was caught in a huge orb of water. It floated above the ground as the wagon rolled away.