Professor Stoat

Since Blue Witch said she'd bring me some magical-language materials, I counted down the five days until our appointment.

A wand assists and strengthens magic cast through magical language, so knowledge of magical language is indispensable to wandmaking.

Making a wand without knowing magical language is like having a CEO who knows nothing about the shop floor lead a manufacturing company. You can do it, I guess, but it won't go well.

I figured studying magical language was essential to understanding and advancing the structural theory of wands.

Plus, I was simply interested in magical language.

The motivation was worlds apart from when I'd been forced to study English back in school.

I mean, it's magical language. Who wouldn't be interested?

Five days later, the expectations of me, eagerly awaiting the bundle of magical-language materials Blue Witch would surely bring, were dashed.

Blue Witch showed up in her usual ragged black clothes, equipped with her blue wand Cuanos and mask, but she wasn't carrying any materials. Instead, a small animal was perched on her shoulder.

"Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Ohinata Kei!"

"I-it talked!?"

The small animal cheerfully greeted me in a little girl's voice.

It looked like a weasel, but its fur was white, so it was probably a ferret.

A ferret talked. Ferrets don't normally talk. But this one was talking. Which meant—

"It's a ferret monster!"

"Ahaha, I guess that's how it looks, doesn't it? I'm actually a stoat. Also, I'm human."

The former ferret—or rather, stoat—said that as she scampered down Blue Witch's body and came right up to my feet, then held out her tiny right forepaw.

It was a meaningless gesture to me, but a beat later I realized what she meant, crouched down, and shook it.

Her paw was so tiny! I was shaking hands with a talking stoat. This was less fantasy and more fairy tale.

Huh. What an interesting creature.

But putting that aside, I ordered magical-language materials, didn't I?

What's going on, delivery person? This isn't what I ordered. Was it delivered to the wrong address?

"What happened to the magical-language materials? Are they late? I was looking forward to getting them today, but you brought me a stoat instead. What a letdown."

I have enough trouble taking care of myself. I can't keep a pet.

When I complained to Blue Witch, she said, unusually pleased,

"Kei-chan was born and raised in Ome. Her parents divorced before the Gremlin Disaster, and she survived because her father took custody of her and moved her to Minato Ward."

"Oh, really? That's great."

I offered my sincere congratulations.

I knew perfectly well how fixated Blue Witch was on protecting Ome and its residents.

If an Ome resident thought to have been wiped out had turned up safe and sound, whatever their form, that was something to celebrate.

"So what, she used to be human?"

"That's right. A magical misfire turned me into this!"

Saying so, the stoat—Ohinata—raised her short arms in a victory pose.

So cute~! I couldn't stop grinning.

I hated those TV shows where animals were dubbed with human voices, but an animal that really spoke like a person was seriously adorable. I wasn't good with human speech, and I wasn't good with animals either (I came to hate the pests that ravaged my fields), so it was strange that combining the two made something cute.

I thought, You made the right choice giving up on being human, but I had just enough common sense not to say it aloud.

"So you failed to transform? Then you're a witch, right? The Witch of Stoats or something?"

"No. I'm a magical linguist. You see, Mr. Dairi invited me because he wanted a lecture on magical language, and Blue Witch introduced us!"

"..."

I went deadpan as Ohinata bowed her tiny head in a prim little greeting.

I dragged Blue Witch behind the building.

I interrogated her in a lowered voice.

"Hey! Just get me the materials! On paper! Why did you bring the actual researcher here? You idiot!"

"At first, I intended to obtain paper materials as well. But while speaking with Kei-chan at her laboratory, I learned that she was from Ome."

"So what if you did?"

"She said she was interested in wandmaking, so I brought her here."

"Haaah?"

Wait, did you tell her?

That there was a wandmaker in Okutama.

That there was a socially awkward, non-regular-worker human national treasure.

That I was the wandmaker who made the very Cuanos.

You told her?!

"You were the one who said it would be better to keep my existence hidden. Why did you blab?"

"Of course. Because she can be trusted."

"Really?"

"Yes. She's from Ome."

Blue Witch announced it as if it were a self-evident fact, like "The sky is blue."

This idiot. Normally she was cool and composed, but she was far too soft on people from Ome.

I thought Blue Witch and I had an agreement to keep my existence hidden: I didn't want to meet humans, and she didn't want technology on a nuclear-bomb scale to spread. But what a trap she'd sprung.

I stole a glance at the fairy-tale animal, who was tracking a butterfly with her eyes a short distance away.

No, but Ohinata didn't look human at all—or rather, she wasn't human, was she?

She was plainly just a talking small animal. If I was afraid of an adorable, visibly powerless stoat like this, I'd have to fear every living thing in existence.

I'd been the one to dump all external negotiations on Blue Witch... If she decided Ohinata could be trusted, then I supposed it was fine?

Paper magical-language materials would have been best, but a talking stoat wasn't bad either.

Good thing she wasn't human. Good thing her accident had turned her into a stoat. Stay that way forever, please.

I finished interrogating Blue Witch, returned to the stoat, and welcomed her.

It was my first time speaking with someone in a research profession.

I suppose I should call her Professor.

"I look forward to working with you today, Professor Ohinata."

"Yes! Likewise! I'd be delighted if you could teach me all sorts of things about Cuanos!"

When I bowed, Professor Stoat clasped her little paws in front of her chest and struck a determined pose.

Hmm?

For a professor researching magical language, her voice and mannerisms seemed awfully childish.

Maybe she looked like a stoat on the outside, but was really an aging woman trying to look young on the inside?

No, wait.

I had imagined someone middle-aged to elderly from the sound of the word "professor," but that wasn't necessarily the case.

I decided to ask, just in case.

"If you don't mind my asking, Professor Ohinata, how old are you?"

"I turned twelve last month!"

Hmph. What, she's just a kid!

Want some candy!?

Since standing around talking seemed rude, I showed Professor Ohinata inside. Blue Witch knew her way around the place; after asking permission to read my collection (manga), she promptly retreated to the study.

Taking care not to step on Professor Ohinata, I led her to my workshop, where the stoat let out a delighted cry.

"Wow...!"

The stoat's small, round eyes sparkled as she scampered up onto my workbench and looked around the room in amazement.

"This is amazing, amazing! It's just like a magic artisan's workshop!"

It's not just like one. That's exactly what it is...

Blue Witch had reacted much the same way the first time I'd shown her into the workshop.

In fact, the eight-tatami workshop, formerly a doma earthen-floored room, had a distinctly fantastical air.

After the Gremlin Disaster wiped electricity from the world, I'd removed the 3D printer and grinder from the room and added more primitive tools like whetstones and an anvil.

The half-open junk box crammed with jangling Gremlin crystals looked like a treasure chest. I'd put an Octameteorite on the wall as an object of worship, and hung up several wand blueprints too.

The lab equipment I'd pinched from Okutama Middle School's science room added color to the glass cabinet. When I lit the lantern I'd hung from the ceiling with a match, the room filled with a soft orange glow.

The smell of melted wax and soot added to the old-fashioned atmosphere, and Professor Ohinata sniffed busily as she darted around, asking one question after another while taking care not to touch the tools I'd left lying around.

Go on, ask me anything.

"What is this?"

"I was testing whether I could separate the components of crushed Gremlins by putting them in an ether solvent and running them through a hand-cranked centrifuge."

"I see? That's an interesting experiment! How did it turn out?"

"It failed."

"Oh. That's too bad... What about this?"

"I tried processing Gremlins by etching them. They were too corrosion-resistant, so that failed too. All I did was melt the tool."

"Wowww! You've tried all sorts of things! That's amazing!"

"Well, yeah."

The energetic little animal's praise made me recoil a little.

This stoat is really coming on strong. She probably has lots of friends. I can feel the wall between us.

"Mr. Dairi, you're really smart. Did you come up with all these experiments yourself?"

"Well..."

"Wow! You have a real gift for coming up with ideas. Did you study this sort of thing at university, too?"

"University probably doesn't have much to do with it. I guess knowledge does provide the basis for inspiration, though."

"Oh, I understand. The things my father taught me have been a huge help in my research, too. I guess this is something we have in common with artisans. Which university did you attend, Mr. Dairi?"

"Some unremarkable place that wouldn't mean anything if I told you."

"Is that so? I don't think that's true... Was it a university in Tokyo? Where are you from, Mr. Dairi?"

"Aichi."

"Speaking of Aichi, miso katsu! It's delicious, isn't it? Do you eat it often?"

At first, I answered her questions because I thought she was interested in my wand workshop, but that didn't seem to be it. She kept bringing up topics that were related, but not actually related.

Why was she digging so deeply into my private life? It had nothing to do with wands or magical language. Was she perhaps probing into my background?

But she was just a kid. Would a twelve-year-old really do something like that?

"What is it? You've been asking me all sorts of questions. What are you trying to do?"

"Ah... Did it bother you? I'm sorry. We're both researching magic, so I thought it'd be nice to get to know each other. Hehe."

"Get to know each other...?"

"Yes! I'd be happy if we could become friends!"

"???"

It was hard to tell with an animal's face, but Professor Ohinata seemed to be fidgeting shyly.

Even though it was supposed to be Japanese, my brain refused to process her words. I had no idea what she was saying.

What on earth are you talking about?

You don't become friends just by deciding to become friends, do you?

Saying you should get along in order to become friends makes no sense.

If you clicked, you naturally got along, and before you knew it, you were friends. That was the natural order of things.

Making an effort to get along? That was warped. It went against human nature.

So if you absolutely hated someone, but hid your true feelings and worked at getting along, would you be friends if the superficial "We're friends, right?" got accepted!?

Honestly, this kid didn't understand the concept of friendship at all.

I had never made a single friend in my life, but I understood that much.

...I understood that much!

When I clicked my tongue loudly, Professor Ohinata apparently realized I meant a total rejection. She flinched, lowered her little tail, and drooped dejectedly.

You little brat who knows nothing about how harsh society is. There are men who become so flustered just from being invited to karaoke that they can't even speak properly. Be more careful about who you make friends with!

"Forget all that. Just hurry up and teach me about magical language. That's what I called you here for."

"Yes... I'm sorry."

Professor Ohinata looked dejected, but quickly pulled herself together and leaped onto the drafting board I used for work.

"Um. Well, then... Can I use this paper and pencil?"

"As much as you like."

"Then, if you don't mind. I'll begin the lecture now. Oh, are you all right without a bathroom break? I've prepared ninety minutes of lecture material, just in case."

"No problem. Let's hear it."

I settled onto the cushioned chair, prepared to take notes, and assumed an attentive posture.

Never imagined I'd be listening to lectures again after graduating university. If there had been a university offering lectures in magical linguistics, it would've been hugely popular. Especially with such an adorable stoat professor.

"Let's begin with the history of magical linguistics. My father, Ohinata Soichi, taught linguistics at a university. Not long after the Gremlin Disaster, however, an acquaintance of his, a vampire... a vampire mage, came to him for advice. Taking the chain of events that began with the Gremlin Disaster seriously, my father gathered the assistant researchers and seminar students from his lab and established a magical-language analysis team."

"I see."

There it was again: the vampire mage.

Blue Witch mentioned him often too. Apparently he was a capable man who'd been involved in all sorts of things.

He was already dead, but even if he'd been alive, I probably wouldn't have met him. I have trouble with highly sociable people.

"The research team began by collecting language samples. In experimental science, a method applicable to all fields of study—not just linguistics—is the five-step process of observation, inference, hypothesis, verification, and consideration. You observe and collect data, use that data to make a prediction, establish a hypothesis about what should happen if the prediction is correct, actually verify the hypothesis, and consider the results of that verification. Then you return to observation and repeat the process. That's how you approach the truth theoretically and efficiently."

"Oh, you don't need to take notes on this part. You can just listen. It's only an overview."

"Collecting language samples is the basic first step, observation, in this five-step process. With the vampire's cooperation, the research team interviewed thirteen witches and wizards about their spells and sampled a total of seventy-two spells. After analyzing and classifying the meanings and pronunciations of those seventy-two spells, we concluded that we needed to establish at least seven unknown phonemes that humans cannot pronounce. In other words, magical language is not a language used by humans—Homo sapiens—in the first place."

"I've heard that before. Blue Witch made some weird sounds when she chanted, too."

"Ah, the Vaalar branch also contains unpronounceable sounds. You know your stuff."

Professor Ohinata nodded.

"Magical linguistics is linguistics, but it also incorporates elements of history and cultural geography. For example, Japanese has a wealth of words related to snow: light snow, powder snow, peony snow, sleet, hail, blizzard, ground blizzard, wet snow, fresh snow, and lingering snow, among others. That's because Japan is a snowy country. Since it's a language from a country where snow falls frequently, a culture of making fine distinctions between types of snow developed and was reflected in the language. In Mongolia, by contrast, horses are referred to with extremely fine distinctions. That's because horses are so closely tied to daily life there. Learning a language tells you about the land where it was born, and understanding that land helps you understand the language. In other words, what kind of people, living where, speak it?"

"That's why, alongside their linguistic research, the team also studied the witches and wizards themselves—not native speakers, but the people who came closest to being native speakers. This research required tremendous perseverance. Machines had stopped working, too, so they were always short-handed, and I began visiting the lab to help my father with his research."

I'd listened this far, but I couldn't stand wondering any longer, so I raised my hand.

"May I interrupt?"

"Yes. Go ahead."

"Professor Ohinata, are you really twelve? That's not the sort of material an elementary schooler would lecture on."

"Thank you. I attended a private school, and I've never scored anything but first place on a test since I enrolled. My father praised me often, too."

Saying that, the stoat stood her whiskers straight up and puffed out her chest fur proudly.

She's a child prodigy. Amazing.

I wonder if the humans still surviving these days all have to be exceptionally gifted at something. Me, Blue Witch, Professor Ohinata...

People without any special talents or redeeming qualities probably dropped out of this brutally competitive struggle for survival. What a harsh era.

"Returning to the subject. Some spells refer to literature, so apparently magical language has a written form as well. However, we have no way of knowing what that writing looks like. Inevitably, research into magical linguistics focuses primarily on vocalization and speech."

"However, this comes with great danger. If magical language is pronounced accurately while a Gremlin or magic stone is nearby, a person unable to control their magical power will be forced to activate magic. Of course, this also serves as an extremely effective test for measuring pronunciation accuracy, so it's an indispensable phenomenon for research. But that doesn't change the fact that accidental magic activation is dangerous."

I nodded.

Blue Witch had warned me about that too. Accidentally going boom with magic was seriously dangerous. It was like having a handgun go off just because you spoke. Someone could easily die.

"The research team was studying magical language, but these were desperate times. We were expected to put our research to practical use as quickly as possible. We couldn't afford to devote precious manpower to research that served no purpose."

"Specifically, the research team's supreme priority is the modification and improvement of spells."

"Let's use the vampire's Deni branch spells as an example. Deni-branch magic concerns blood, and one of its spells is a self-enhancement spell. It greatly improves physical abilities by consuming magical power and the user's blood, and its mana and blood costs are low enough for an ordinary person to withstand. It causes anemia afterward, but isn't severe enough to be life-threatening. In theory, if an ordinary person holding a large Gremlin used this self-enhancement spell, they could defeat a weak monster. It would greatly reduce the burden on witches and wizards who hunt monsters, dramatically improve the efficiency of physical labor, and be useful in countless other ways."

"Oh. I'd like to learn that. What's the spell?"

"You can't learn it. It contains unpronounceable sounds."

"Oh..."

I see. That's where the catch came in.

Then it was useless. Far too many spells were restricted to witches and wizards. If I couldn't cast them no matter how much research went into them, what was the point?

"That's why we're researching and developing circumlocutory chants. We analyze magical language, avoid the unpronounceable sounds, and reconstruct the incantation using words with the same meaning that humans can pronounce. In other words, we're researching how to create spells with the same effects using words humans can pronounce."

"Oh!"

So there was a point to the research after all.

Now I get it! That really is work only a linguist could do.

Linguistics is amazing!

I looked at Professor Ohinata with newfound respect. Linguists were doing incredible work. My wand could change the world, but these linguists could determine the fate of the world too. Major respect, Professor!!!

"And in the course of this research, the team members died one after another from accidental magical discharges. Everyone, including my father, is dead. Now I'm carrying on the research alone."

"What!?"

I was horrified by the shocking fact she had just dropped so casually.

So accidental magic could kill people—or rather, it really had killed people. A lot of people. What the hell was going on!? Where was the safety protocol!?

"Is researching magical language really that dangerous? Dangerous enough to kill people?"

"Yes. This research is a matter of life and death. When you chant a modified spell whose structure has been altered, the effect often differs from what you expected. Sometimes the results are fatal. A spell that should consume blood for self-enhancement might boil your blood, or suddenly produce so much of it that you burst. I also modified and chanted a spell for transforming into a dragon, only to turn into a stoat. I was extremely lucky not to transform into an inanimate object or microorganism, or die instantly."

"Eek!"

I'd been thoughtlessly going "So cute~!" about Professor Stoat, but hearing the circumstances made it anything but funny.

So that's what you got for crossing that dangerous bridge!?

This isn't something a twelve-year-old should be doing! If you conduct research like that, one lifetime wouldn't be enough.

"Why not leave the research to a witch or wizard who can activate magic without it misfiring?"

"They're unaware of what they're pronouncing and how. In the end, an ordinary person who can't pronounce the unpronounceable sounds has to chant the spell and check whether any of those sounds are mixed in. Even with the risk of an accident, we have to do it."

"Then quit! Quit the research. You'll die too. Leave it to the adults."

"I want to complete my father's research with my own hands."

Professor Ohinata said it firmly.

The fire of a fierce resolve, born of someone living through an era of upheaval, burned in her round, shining eyes.

I was overawed. Her tiny, awkward body seemed to grow large. Talk about being utterly committed.

Professor Ohinata was one incredible woman.