Chapter 12: Where Are the Fantastic Beasts?
“According to Druidic tradition, we don’t use spices or complex cooking methods. We only use local, natural ingredients,” Baggs explained, sitting on the ground, his cat form speaking fluent Common Tongue, occasionally lapsing into Elvish. “So our meals are… simple. But recently, our sacred tree has been showing signs of decay. Its leaves are withering and falling. This has never happened before. The Grand Sage, Agnes, was our wisest leader, chosen by the gods. The tree she planted is a symbol of our faith, our connection to nature. Its decline has caused great concern among the Druids.”
“I understand the gravity of the situation. I apologize, I’ve never seen this sacred tree,” Abyss said.
“That’s understandable. A free-spirited Druid like yourself, traveling the world, wouldn’t be familiar with our sacred sites,” Baggs said, nodding. “And the tree’s decline isn’t our biggest problem. We Druids can maintain the ecological balance of the Elven Kingdoms without the sacred tree. It simply makes our task easier. Its death would be a great loss, but not a catastrophe. The real problem is the animals.”
“What’s wrong with the animals? Have they transformed into monsters?” Abyss asked, tilting his head. “Did they consume something unusual?”
“No, they haven’t transformed. They’ve… learned magic,” the old cat said, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and concern.
Leona’s jaw dropped. “Animals learned magic? How is that possible? Doesn’t magic require knowledge of the ancient language? Can animals speak the ancient language now?”
“Actually, if we look back at history, the first humans to use magic didn’t rely on language. Ancient texts suggest that magic predates the ancient language we use today,” Rebecca said, her vast knowledge surprising them. “The language we call ‘ancient’ isn’t the oldest language. It’s a relatively recent development, a combination of several ancient dialects.”
She was right. The ancient language used by mages was a constructed language, created by elves thousands of years ago, its structure designed to resonate with the world’s magical energies. It had been widely adopted, then gradually replaced by simpler languages, its complex grammar and pronunciation now only used by magic practitioners. Before its creation, various languages had flourished, and mages had existed even then.
These ancient mages didn’t use incantations. They channeled mana through pure willpower, their magic crude and unstable, but it had laid the foundation for Hai-Teweru’s civilizations. Some archaeologists believed that the discovery of fire, accidentally created by a primitive human wielding magic, had been the catalyst for civilization’s development.
Mana was a naturally occurring, renewable resource, accessible to all mortals. Modern magic was simply a refined version, its safety and control greatly enhanced.
Leona, remembering her history lessons, which she had mostly ignored, her memories vague, now understood. If what Rebecca said was true, then animals using magic wasn’t so far-fetched.
“But why would they suddenly learn magic?” Leona asked, frowning. “If it were just one or two animals, it would be understandable, but all of them? That’s strange, isn’t it?”
“Indeed, Miss Leona. You’ve identified the core issue,” Baggs said. “The animals did learn magic suddenly. It started in a few isolated regions, quickly attracting the attention of the Druids. Then, similar reports emerged from other areas. If our sages’ predictions are correct, this phenomenon has likely reached the Ossi Kingdom as well.”
“Really? Master, why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” Maggie exclaimed, her boredom forgotten, her interest piqued. “Where are these magical animals? Take me to them! Oh, right, speaking of magical animals, let me tell you about the time I was learning shapeshifting…”
“Silence, Maggie! You were too busy playing during our meetings. Don’t blame me for your ignorance!” Baggs said, his tone exasperated, silencing his apprentice, who obediently covered her mouth.
“Hmm… Animals using magic… and the phenomenon is spreading?” Abyss asked, his expression thoughtful. “Are these animals causing any problems? Are they dangerous?”
“No major incidents yet, but I suspect some hunters will soon meet unfortunate ends… The Druid council has forbidden hunting, which has caused some unrest,” Baggs said, sighing. “We’re worried that the animals might use magic to defend themselves, which could be disastrous. And if this continues, the animals’ newfound abilities will disrupt the ecological balance. That would be a serious problem.”
“I understand. Let’s investigate. We can search for these magical animals, then discuss the matter with the Druid council,” Abyss said, nodding, readily agreeing to help. “Mr. Baggs, would you care to join us? We have horses.”
“Ah, your generosity warms my heart like a fire on a winter’s night, Mr. Belator,” Baggs said, his cat eyes twinkling.
“Oh, right, do you know where the esteemed Miss Agnes is buried?” Abyss asked suddenly.
“Miss Agnes?” Baggs asked, surprised. “You intend to…”
“Pay my respects,” Abyss replied.
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