That miraculous dream had terrified and tormented him, but it had also stimulated his faltering mental power. Still, he would rather have gone without that help. All it did was bring his breakthrough forward a little, and not by very much. He remained quite confident in himself. Lord Ruger, the Two-Ring Wizard, would surely be born on this little island.
Of course, if Lord Wizard Ruger ever stalled at some stage in the future, he would not mind raising both hands to welcome his teacher's teacher back to give him another scare. When that time came, he would brew some delicious Fruit Tea in advance, becoming a little kobold who welcomed intimidation and was prepared to lose some fur over it.
Though he was a Fur Shepherd to begin with.
He devoted himself to meditation, enjoyed fine food, studied spells, practiced spells, and, when no one was around, continued his long train of thought, which was growing ever clearer.
That inexplicable dream seemed to have changed nothing.
Or perhaps the real changes were simply unknown to him, tucked away on his remote little island.
That spell, however, had scattered more little grass seeds along the path of his thoughts. They might even prove to be the beginnings of towering trees.
Then, during another meditation session no different from any other, the Black Book lay open on his lap, and he had closed his eyes without realizing it. The Light Spell above his head quietly went out, indicating that he had completed at least two rounds of meditation. Yet he still did not stop. This was not particularly unusual; he did this from time to time.
But this time was somewhat different. The sea breeze was as cool as ever, yet Ruger's aura climbed steadily beneath its gentle caress.
Wave after