"My name is Olivander, do you have a name?"

"Cooper," the dog replied. If Olivander had to describe it, the dog’s voice sounded like someone pretending to do a dog’s voice. It only sounded in the heads of the people he wanted to talk to, an effect of the ability Olivander had bestowed on him.

"A pleasure to meet you, Cooper. My wet friend here is Gregory."

A now clean, but very wet, Gregory climbed back into the wagon.

"You didn't have to do that, you know. It was just sand."

"Spoken like a true barbarian."

"Barbarian? Is that a class I can get?"

"You certainly possess the mental acuity for it."

"Huh?"

"Now, Cooper, you may be wondering why I threw you into the wagon and gave you the power to communicate."

"You wanted to share breakfast?"

"Ohh breakfast, did you save me anything, Olivander?"

"...no. Here, have some jerky." Olivander rummaged in the pack he got from Timothy. He produced some jerky for Gregory.

"Ugh, fine. Is that all he packed for you?"

"Yes, that's enough out of you, we have a guest."

They both looked at Cooper, and he wagged his tall.

"As I was saying, Cooper, it wasn't just out of an altruistic desire to share breakfast—"

"Wait, you got the dog breakfast?"

With one hand, Olivander shoved Gregory out of the wagon and through a portal, leaving him half a mile behind the caravan.

"Sorry, he's excitable. I have you here because I felt the touch of fate on you. It's faint, just a seed, but I think it might blossom into something more."

Cooper raised an eyebrow in a remarkably human expression.

“I know, I know. It sounds ridiculous. But let me make you an offer. You stick with me and Gregory, and I’ll make sure you get all the food you want, plus some fun activities. What do you say?”

Cooper seemed to think about it, he scratched behind his ear, and then shook off. Then he stopped suddenly, looking around quickly.

“Did I bring my ball in here?”

Olivander took the dog’s panic in stride. He wasn’t a human, and though he possessed a surprising level of intelligence for a dog, he still had his animal impulses.

“You didn’t have a ball, but I can get you one, if that’s something you need.”

“Ball first, then I will agree to your deal. And some of that jerky. It smells really good.”

Olivander laughed, “A dog after my own heart. Here is some jerky, and here,” he held up a hand and conjured a simple leather ball into it, “is a ball.”

“Ball.”

Olivander shrugged and tossed it towards Cooper, in an arching throw. Cooper jumped into the air and caught the ball, giving it a few test chews before dropping it to devour the jerky that Olivander had set out for him.

“This jerky is very good. I will travel with you.”

“Excellent. I’ll introduce you to Gregory properly once he catches up.”

* * *

When Gregory finally made it back to the caravan, he was exhausted, and refused to talk to Olivander. Instead he did some practice drawing with his mana. He had been doing it whenever he had enough mana for two attempts, and his circles, and his control, were slowly improving.

He hadn’t yet made the connection between his intent for the circle to be perfectly formed, and it actually being perfectly formed. Olivander couldn’t tell him everything though.

The wagons rolled down a well worn road that was relatively straight and fairly smooth. It was a breezy summer day, they had passed out of the desert yesterday, and were now in a lightly wooded area. The trees were still relatively short and you could still see through them without too much trouble, but it was more interesting than the low brown plants that had made up the desert views.

Cooper walked up to Gregory from a corner he had been curled up in. His voice projected to both Olivander and Gregory, but he was clearly talking to Gregory.

“Can you toss me the ball?”

“Sure…I guess. Just, throw it to you?”

“Yes”

Gregory tossed the ball, and Cooper caught it. He liked to catch it, then chew it for a few seconds, then drop it again for another throw. Gregory obliged.

“This is great, usually I need to try to get people to figure out I want them to throw the ball, but now I can just ask them!”

“Why do you want me to throw the ball?”

“Because it is fun. Do adult humans not have this concept? Children seem to.”

“How smart is this dog?”

“Cooper. I have a name.”

“Cooper is a remarkably intelligent dog. Let’s check his status,” Olivander said.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Dog’s have a status?”

“Every living thing, and some non-living things, have statuses. Checking them is harder, since they lack the human ability to just pull it up at will. But we have spells to compensate. Reveal.”

Cooper

Age: 3

Race: Dog

Level 0 (0%)

Combat Class: None

Non-combat Class: Dog

Health: 20/20

Stamina: 30/30

Mana: 2/2

Strength: 4

Dexterity: 6

Constitution: 3

Wisdom: 3

Intelligence: 4

Skill Points: 0

Skills: None

Abilities:

Reverse Telepathy

Spells: None

“As I expected, the fact that he even has an Intelligence stat tell us that he’s no ordinary dog.”

“What’s Reverse Telepathy?” Gregory asked.

“The ability I gave him, it allows him to speak to us. It wasn't something he already had. That would be truly remarkable.”

“Wait, you can just give people abilities? Can you give me one?”

“It is possible due to a series of my own abilities. But in order to do it, I had to give up some of my own potential. A skill like telepathy costs around three or four skill points. In order for me to grant that ability, modified no less, to Cooper here, it cost me six of my own unspent skill points.”

“What? That’s crazy. Why do you have so many unspent skill points?”

“I’m fortunate enough to not need them for many things. I can simply learn the spell on my own and store them in my Magus grimoire.”

“Magus, is that your class? What rarity is it?”

“It is. It’s an Epic rarity class.”

“Wow, Epic rarity. My Dad’s class is Epic too, I think.”

Olivander nodded, then looked at Cooper, who was studying his own status.

“Can I get a class? I want to be able to conjure balls myself.”

“An admirable goal! You can gain a class, but it’s not something I can do for you. You need to put yourself into danger to unlock a combat class, or learn a craft or skill to unlock a non-combat class.”

Cooper just nodded. He seemed to like his ability to speak, but didn’t feel the need to talk constantly, for which Olivander was glad. He had heard of other animals getting a similar ability and becoming insufferable chatterboxes.

“Do I need to do the same thing to get rid of this awful class?” Gregory asked.

“More or less. Either you will unlock something new, or you’ll need to wait for the class to naturally evolve.”

“How long does that take?”

“Most common rarity classes, will have the potential to evolve at level 10, but it could take until the common rarity level cap at level twenty.”

“Level ten or twenty? Uhhhhggg. This is the worst.”

Olivander gave Gregory a reassuring slap on the back.

“You’ll get there. You’ll find leveling your basic class to not take any time, once we really get you into the fire.”

Gregory smiled and winced at the same time. He wanted to grow, but Olivander’s idea of getting thrown into the fire couldn’t be good.

* * *

Hours later, the caravan slowed to a stop.

“I better see what’s happening, we’re still hours from Serin,” Olivander said, hopping out of the back of the wagon.

Ahead of the caravan, covering the entire road, was a shimmering wall of magic. Olivander quirked an eyebrow.

“Maybe the fire will come to us,” he said to himself.

At the head of the caravan, the leader was scratching his head, examining the wall. He had two of his workers with him.

“Definitely going to want to not touch that! And maybe take a few steps back!” Olivander called.

The trio complied immediately. They knew Olivander was some kind of powerful magician, so they trusted his judgment on the clearly magical anomaly.

“What do you think it is, Olivander?” the leader asked.

“I know what it is. It’s a magical anomaly. The mana in the area has gone too far out of balance, and a natural formation has been triggered to compensate.”

“What does that mean?” one of the others asked.

“It means, in a few hours, this bubble will contract, and the entrance to a temporary dungeon will form.”

“A dungeon? Like what they got down in Du’la’melio?”

“Exactly. Well, almost exactly. The Du’la’melio dungeon is permanent. The one here will be temporary, lasting anywhere from weeks to months. It will push monsters out into the road if left unchecked, so when the bubble falls the caravan should definitely get to Serin and report it.”

The three shuddered at the mention of monsters. The Dungeon based creatures were the nightmares and boogeymen of the common folk all over the country. Olivander found that to only be an accurate descriptor some of the time.

“This shouldn’t be a strong dungeon, with the mana in the area being so low. My companions and I will stay behind and try to get a first clear, I think!”

“Oh, you think so?” A man called from behind them.

A tall man with a pair of swords belted to his waist approached. He had the look of a seasoned guild adventurer, probably late Iron Rank —the rank after copper— but maybe as strong as Steel rank.

“I don’t think the dungeon forming will be much of a challenge for you, Mr…”

“Verris, just Verris. It’s true, we’re Iron rank guild members, but first clears always come with a unique reward. You don’t seem very weak yourself, Mr. Moneybags. You just going to run your dog and your ‘squire’ through the dungeon?”

Olivander’s eyes took on a dangerous glint.

“I have often found that treating people with respect and dignity to be the best way to avoid confrontation, but I understand that some people need to learn that lesson the hard way. I will not be joining my companions, they will clear the dungeon on their own, or not at all.”

“So you say. I guess we’ll just run along and be your messenger boys. You magicians are all the same. You think you're so superior.”

Olivander raised a brow. So this wasn’t really about him. That had the unfortunate effect of meaning nothing that he could say would ameliorate this conflict. He didn’t like flexing his power to get what he wanted —it left a bad taste in his mouth. But he didn’t see another way out of this.

“So how do you see this going, Verris? You seem to be fixated on my wealth, do you want me to pay you off? What is it?”

As expected, he pressed the right button.

“I don’t want your money, magician. But I will take a blood price,” Verris said, unsheathing his swords.

Caravaneers scattered. They were mostly ordinary folk and knew fights between adventurers could get messy.

“Why don’t you gather your team? Even if I don’t cast a single spell, this would be a far too easy fight.”

Verris’ face reddened. He yelled and charged at Olivander.

“Why do they always yell?” Olivander said. He dropped his volcano ward. He didn’t want to kill anyone.

He easily sidestepped the pair of slashes that had been aimed at his chest.

“Olivander? Is everything alright?” Gregory said, running up, Cooper running beside him.

There’s a nice opportunity there. A warmup for the kids, Olivander thought. He had seen the other member’s of Verris’ crew sneaking up, and allowed one of them to jump out at Gregory. The others dropped through portals that suddenly appeared under their feet.