There was a little blue house in the mountains that the mail owls knew well. They loved the little orphan girl who lived there, because she was always so happy to see them, and always took the time to scratch behind their stout necks where they couldn't reach themselves. Best of all, she could speak to them, and if they were injured she could always heal their wounds.

Every six months a strong young owl would be dispatched to carry a heavy scroll of paper from the little blue house far, far away, off to the capital of Gedonelune. It was an application, the owls discovered, addressed to a great school far away. But sadly the girl never received anything back for her efforts. Still, she continued to dream, even as the years flew by.

In the meantime, the girl, Clara, lived a simple life. Every morning she'd receive visits from various townspeople, worried about their sick animals. She'd speak to the creatures, understand their worries, and soothe their hurts. Townspeople paid her in Lune, or sometimes in much-needed goods, like flour or cloth – or sometimes in sweets, which the girl adored – like all girls.

In the afternoons she would see to her house and chores, running errands about town, and bartering her surpluses for what she needed. And in the evening, she would study and practice magic – or at least, to the best of her ability. Somehow it never seemed to go well, the most basic spells still going awry, except when an animal was involved.

In time, even Clara's dreams began to fade, as her own little failures piled up, and she began to wonder if perhaps, this little town, and her little magical quirks, were as much a destiny as she might ever have.


One spring night, Clara awakened in the middle of the night, having been roused by an odd dream. As she turned over to settle back into bed, she noticed a telltale blue glow from outside her window. Her heart quickened, and she couldn't help but giggle in excitement. She abandoned the bed to dress for the outdoors, pulling on a heavy cloak and thick shoes. As she headed out the door, she took a basket under her arm.

At the forest's edge, she bent down to examine the source of the light. These were glowcap mushrooms, and they only grew once in a blue moon. Indeed, she looked up, and tonight the full moon, the second this month, shone as bright as ever, soothing her and engulfing her in serenity even as it lit her way. Clara carefully loosened the glowcap from the soil, tucking it in her basket, and moved towards more of the blue lights.

Clara loved mushrooms, and they formed a large part of her diet because she couldn't quite bring herself to eat meat. But mushrooms were hearty and wonderful, and she loved stuffing them with savory fillings and grilling them in the pit behind her house. Glowcaps were even more special, not just because of their fragrant, delicate flavor, but because when pressed, they released a beautiful, incandescent oil that was the source of their light. It was an utterly magical phenomenon. Long ago, Clara's mother had walked through the forest with her on one such blue moon night, and together they'd gathered mushrooms until they couldn't carry anymore. The fragrant oils, displayed in jars around her home, lit up their nights for months. This time, the mushrooms would make a wonderful meal, and she could trade the oil at the market, as glowcap oil was a valuable reagent used in magical tools.

Now Clara wandered through the forest alone, cheerfully collecting the mushrooms, plucking them lovingly from the ground until her basket itself was glowing as brightly as daylight, or would have been if she had not covered her quarry with a blanket. She reached the river, and slightly weary from the work of carrying the full basket around, decided to sit on the grassy bank and rest against a log. A chorus of frogs was singing in the reeds nearby, and soon Clara felt herself falling asleep.

She awoke suddenly to silence. Blinking, she looked around, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. The silence chilled her immediately because silence was a bad thing in the wilderness. She couldn't hear the voices of any nightingales, and the frogs had disappeared.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw a silhouette moving in the darkness. It was a large, dark beast – like a lion, but with jet black fur. Two sharp purple horns curved behind its ears, and a pair of gleaming fangs shone from its mouth. It was staring into the water, which reflected a pair of glowing yellow eyes.

Clara swallowed a gasp, half of fear, and half of awe. It was a magical creature. And it was clearly no ordinary magical creature, but something powerful and dignified, nothing like the Wing rabbits she'd seen in her books.

And, she realized, it was injured. It was dipping its paw into the water, grunting in pain as it did so. Clara's heart immediately tightened in sympathy, and without thinking, she stood. "Mr. Lion!"

The creature jerked, and the sharp yellow gaze came to rest on her.

Clara gulped. It's okay, she thought. I can talk to him. He won't do anything if I tell him I can help. "Is your paw hurt? I can heal you!" She paused, uncertain how she should address a magical creature.

The creature stared at her, but said nothing. Does he understand? she wondered. "What's your name?" And then she took a step forward.

The creature growled menacingly. The sound skittered down Clara's spine, and she shivered. It took a step back, but she saw it wince as it put pressure on the injured paw.

"I'm s-sorry," she said. "I'll stay right here, then!" She sat down, barely noticing that her clothes were getting wet from the damp rocks on the riverbank. "I'm Clara, and I'm a wizardess. I specialize in healing animals." She smiled ruefully. "I'm not good at much else," she admitted, her fear gradually lessening as she spoke. "But I can talk to them and heal them. Won't you tell me your name?" She paused.

The beast hesitated, still silent.

"I was out gathering glowcaps," she continued, unoffended. "They only grow once in a blue moon. They're very delicious in a stew! Do you like mushrooms?"

The beast's gaze flickered to her basket of mushrooms, still covered, nearby.

"Would you like some? I'm happy to share." To her delight, the creature nodded, very hesitantly, and Clara grinned with excitement. She stood, turning in the direction of her basket – and then her foot slipped on the wet rocks.

With a shriek, she tumbled into the river. The cold water rushed up to surround her, and she gasped, inhaling a mouthful of water. Clara had grown up playing in the river, and normally, it was quite shallow. But now, the spring rains had caused the river to swell, and she knew that there were submerged rocks. The current was surprisingly strong, and even as she tried to kick to the surface, she felt herself being swept along downstream.

She screamed. She thought she glimpsed, in one frantic moment, a flash of yellow eyes as the beast chased her along the bank – and then suddenly, she felt something strike her head and she knew nothing else.


Clara woke sometime later to a sharp headache. She gasped in pain and surprise, and then heard a bit of a scuffle. Then, a warm hand was smoothing down her hair, patting her head soothingly. She exhaled, finding that the pain went away if she was careful and moved slowly.

Her limbs seemed to be fine, if a little sore, and she was warm, bundled up under familiar covers. She opened her eyes, squinting in the morning light streaming through the window. She was back in her bed, in her home…but she wasn't alone.

She peered up, then yelped. Standing next to her bedside, patting her head, was a surprisingly handsome man, with dark hair and an eyepatch. She'd never seen him before – certainly not in town. I'd have remembered someone this handsome, she thought, dazedly. He studied her back, wordlessly.

"H-hello?" she ventured, sitting up slowly.

"Be careful," he said tonelessly. "Take it easy until your head heals. Are you cold?"

"Um, n-no," she replied. Her face felt rather warm, in fact, as she blushed. "Who are you?"

Now that she got a look at him, Clara realized that he was probably closer to her age. His clothes were rumpled, a little travel worn. And he was a little on the thin side, as if he hadn't eaten well.

"Here." He passed her a bowl of steaming liquid. "It's hot."

"Did you…find me last night? In the river?"

He inclined his head in what passed for a nod. "You had washed downstream," he explained.

She smiled at him gratefully. "T-thanks. How did you know this was my house?"

He gestured to the bowl, as if reminding her. Clara looked down at it. "Oh! It smells so good!" She tried a spoonful. It was vegetable soup…but there was something else in it. "Is this…magic soup? A-are you a wizard?!"

He nodded, and she laughed in excitement. "That's amazing! You need to show me how to do this!" She sipped the soup, enjoying the flavor, the warmth, and the subtle magical healing imbued into each spoonful. "You must be very skilled. What's your name?"

He hesitated, looking down to the ground. "Yukiya."

Clara beamed. "I'm Clara. Yukiya, thank you for saving me and making me this soup!" Yukiya nodded briefly, and then moved away, leaving her to finish her meal. He's a quiet one, Clara thought, but it seems like he's very nice! And he can cook! And he's a wizard…I can't wait to talk to him more!

But as she moved to the counter to put away her finished bowl, Yukiya headed to the door. "Yukiya?" she asked. "Where are you going?"

"You're better," he answered. "I'm done here."

"Oh, but…" Clara trailed off as he disappeared through the door, shutting it soundly behind him. When she opened it and poked her head out, looking down the street, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Yukiya…" she sighed. Then she noticed a familiar basket by the door. She kneeled down and pulled back the blanket to reveal the blue glowcaps. "My mushrooms! Did he bring them back here too?"

And then her brow furrowed. "But…if I got washed downstream…how did he find them and know they were mine?"


A few days later, Clara was seeing to an injured sheepdog when she heard something disturbing.

The dog panted cheerfully as Clara set and wrapped her leg. "How did you get this, Winnie?" Clara asked, snipping off the end of the bandage.

"My master heard a strange noise, and I smelled something strange too. I went outside and there was a big creature behind the farm, in our crops!" Winnie barked in remembered excitement, as Clara secured the ends of the bandage. "So I ran after him, and I chased him all the way to the fence!" The dog wagged her tail proudly. "He jumped over, but I think he hurt his leg landing. Then he left." Then she whined. "But then I realized that I'd hurt my leg too, tripping over a rabbit hole when I was chasing him."

"A strange creature?" Clara frowned. "What did he look like?"

Winnie tilted her head. "Big and dark. But he smelled…kind of like your house smells now." The dog whined. "Be careful Clara! Maybe he was here too."

"Oh…well…" Clara patted the dog's head, troubled. "I haven't seen anything like that, but I'll watch out. Now you go on, okay? Don't run around for a few days to let that leg heal up."

The sheepdog licked her hand and then nosed the door open, slipping outside. Clara began cleaning up the table where she saw her patients, putting away her supplies. A strange creature…could it be… She had gone back to that part of the river, but hadn't found any trace of the magical creature that she'd encountered. But it had definitely hurt its paw. I wonder if it's still around. She resolved to go out and search again.

Then, she noticed something gray and furry through her window. She froze. "Is that a wolf?" Clara crept slowly to the window. Indeed, a wolf stood in her garden, nosing lazily at a lavender plant. Clara grinned in excitement, running to her kitchen and grabbing one of the bones that she'd been saving for dogs. She opened the door into her garden.

"Hello, Mr. Wolf!"

The wolf jumped and then stared at her, looking surprised. Then he turned his head to the side in a clear gesture of dismissal. Clara faltered a bit – most animals were overjoyed to speak to her.

"Um, I have this bone for you, if you'd like it." She placed the bone a few feet away. "Are you just visiting, Mr. Wolf?"

The wolf gazed at the bone. Clara got a sense of reluctant longing, before the wolf eyed her one more time, a bit condescendingly. Then he grabbed the bone from the ground, and loped into the woods.

"Wait, Mr. Wolf!" Clara took off at a run after him.

The wolf led her to the river. Clara squinted at the sunlight, reflected off the water, before she turned and saw a familiar figure lying on a grassy embankment. "Yukiya!" She ran over to him. The wolf was sitting a few feet away, chomping at the bone.

Yukiya opened his eyes and gazed at her sleepily. "Hm? Who is it?"

Clara's face fell. "You don't remember…?"

Yukiya frowned. "Is it…Clara?"

"Yes!" she laughed, delighted. "Is this your wolf?"

"…Sort of."

"What's his name?"

"Name?" Yukiya looked surprised. "I don't know. He's never told me."

Wha… A familiar like that and he didn't have a name? From where he sat, the wolf huffed in disdain. Clara got the distinct impression that she was being judged and found wanting.

She shrugged it off and sat down beside Yukiya. "It's such a nice day!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah."

Then, silence.

Definitely not a talker, Clara thought. But she was undeterred. "I haven't seen you before. Where do you live, Yukiya?"

There was a pause before Yukiya answered. "Far away."

"Oh. Are you traveling?"

"…Yeah."

He didn't seem to want to talk about that, either. Clara had found that amongst humans and animals alike, almost everyone enjoyed talking about themselves, so she was dumbfounded that Yukiya seemed not to. She hummed in thought, before remembering something. "Oh! Yukiya…will you show me some magic?"

"What?" Yukiya's eyes, which had been about to close, snapped open at that.

"You're a wizard, right?" She peeked at his clothes, looking for some sign of a wand. "Isn't that what you said? I'm a wizardess too, but…" she faltered. "I'm not a very good one. I can't do much. I can only use spells on animals."

"I see."

Clara frowned. He sounded rather uninterested…but maybe he was just like that all the time? Yukiya was certainly hard to read. He seemed to generally be expressionless, plus his eyepatch obscured almost half his face.

"I was hoping you could show me some magic," Clara began again. "Maybe you can help me figure out what I'm doing wrong?"

She couldn't really tell for certain, but it seemed like Yukiya's expression had darkened. The wolf let out a snicker. "No," Yukiya answered, with a surprising amount of firmness.

"Aww…" Clara sighed. "P-please?"

"Why?" Yukiya sat up, seeing to pay full attention to her for the first time.

Clara smiled sunnily. "I'm trying to get into Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy!" she explained. She thought she saw a shadow pass over Yukiya's face, but she wasn't sure. "I keep applying every year…but I haven't made it yet. My magic isn't too good, but I want to make it better."

"But…why?" Clara thought she could detect a bit of a frown in Yukiya's words. "Why do you want to learn magic?"

Clara blinked. It was an odd question. She had never really thought about it…but… "Well, I want to make people happy."

"Happy?"

"Yeah." She leaned back onto the grass, staring into the sky. "My parents died a few years ago, due to an epidemic. Since then, the villagers raised me. All I can really do is talk to the animals, and help heal them." She sighed. "But if I could become a great wizardess…then I could help out in other ways, in thanks for what they did for me."

Yukiya lay back down, a couple feet away from her. "I'm sorry about your parents."

"Oh!" Clara smiled. "It's ok. I miss them, but I try to focus on the happy memories. And the villagers are all very nice, and the animals are good to talk to." She turned to him. "How about your family, Yukiya?"

He hesitated, a flicker of something she couldn't name in his expression. "They're far away."

"Oh. Is it just you and Wolfy?"

The wolf's head snapped up, and he looked affronted. "Don't call me that."

Clara giggled. "I knew you could understand me!"

They sat in quiet conversation, for a while longer. Yukiya's quiet, Clara thought, but he seems like a really kind person. It seemed, though, that Yukiya, like her, was all alone. So Clara resolved to get to know him better, and to help him.

Then Yukiya looked up, sniffing at the air. "Smells like rain," he commented.

Clara couldn't smell anything, but she saw a faraway dark cloud on the horizon. "We should get inside," she agreed. "Where will you go, Yukiya?"

He shrugged.

"Oh." Clara smiled. "I know. Come stay at my house!"

"No."

Her face fell. "Aww. Why not? I want to get to know you better, Yukiya. You seem like a nice person!"

For the first time, Yukiya's expression changed. Clara thought she saw mild confusion for a moment, before his expression shuttered again. "No. Being around me is a bad idea."

"Yukiya!" Clara was stunned. What a thing to say! Is he some kind of…criminal? Clara didn't think so; criminals didn't save people. "What do you mean?"

He turned away. "Don't worry about me." He sounded almost cold, and Clara drew back sadly.

"A-alright…" she stood up, patting at her skirt to remove some stray blades of grass. Suddenly, she remembered something. "Oh! Yukiya!"

"Hmm?"

"You should be careful! A sheepdog told me that she saw a big, dark creature in the woods the other day."

Yukiya had gone still. The wolf rolled its eyes. Clara hesitated before continuing. "I think I saw him that night before I fell into the river, too."

"…I see."

Clara blinked at his seeming lack of concern. Guess he's not worried? "Um…I don't think it's a mean creature…but be careful anyway! If you need some place to go, you can always come to my house, okay?"

For a long moment, Yukiya stared deeply into her eyes, and Clara felt herself grow red from the scrutiny. Finally, he stepped away. "You're…a strange one," he muttered.

Ugh… Clara sighed. Then in the distance, she heard a rumble.

"Thunder…" Yukiya murmured. He turned back. "Clara, go."

"O-okay…" She turned to leave, hurrying towards the trail that would lead home. As she reached the edge of the forest, she peeked back. He was still watching her.

She waved. To her delight, he slowly raised a hand and waved back.

Grinning, Clara ran all the way home.