The respite lasted far longer than he could have imagined.
Ruger enjoyed every moment of it.
He had already believed Lady Kailyn's assessment that day-or rather, he had been willing to believe what he hoped was true, with something irrational mixed into that belief. Now he believed it even more strongly, and rationally so. Lady Kailyn had been right. Something had definitely changed with the Old Wizard. Although his previous stints as an assistant had differed slightly, they had always retained a certain familiarity. For instance, the Old Wizard always calculated his assistant's rest periods precisely to make the best use of them.
This time, he had not. It was as though a penny-pinching mentor had suddenly become generous. Something unexpected must have happened.
Failure after failure was the prevailing theme here. But even if this attempt still ended in failure, it would be a very different failure.
Ruger simply read his books, lying on the grass or leaning back among the flowers. Occasionally, he hummed an awful song to disguise his practice of the Word of Gray and the Word of Sharp Horns.
He had to admit that these two special languages were much easier to practice than the Word of Flame. The Word of Flame suited him too-he could not have awakened it otherwise-but it still fell a little short. It was not uniquely his, after all, and there were always some differences.
The extra rest also gave him more time to consider other questions.
Would someone like him, who had awakened more special languages unique to himself, still be subject to that restriction as a rather unusual kind of Four-Language Wizard?
Would the taboo against exceeding four languages still apply?
It would be best not to test that personally. Perhaps he could seek out Big Guy Mahama