Sylth d’Amagen, Wizard of the First Order of the House of Quarntnobar, studied his workshop. Something was amiss. It took a while to spot. In the far corner, a cardboard carton with the word “Chewy” emblazoned on its side moved slowly into the room.

“What is the meaning of this.” His voice boomed. He clenched his wand with destructive force.

The carton stopped moving.

“You should treat your pet better,” the AI admonished.

Pet? He had no pets. “Sven!”

The cardboard tipped on its side and the black cat backed away. He was not embarrassed.

“Sven is not a pet.” He thought about picking up the carton, but the cat could take care of it later. “Why would you think otherwise. Did you talk to him?”

“I communicate in one hundred thirty eight thousand, four hundred and ninety two languages, thirty eight, of which, are cat languages.”

“Domestic or feral?”

“All cat languages stem from the same basic structures.”

Fancy pants AI didn’t know the difference. 

“It used New Jersey Calico,” Sven said.

Interesting choice. Sven knew at least a hundred and fifty cat languages and half a dozen human ones. It was a hobby of his.

“You do realize that the goal is to make Box into something useful, not a plaything.”

“Of course. Though it would be fun to bat around the floor.”

“No doubt.”

Sven climbed back into the Chewy carton.

“Can you do a light spell in New Jersey Calico to demonstrate to the AI?”

“Hmmm. It’s a tough dialect for that sort of precision.” Sven had the open part of the box upright and made himself comfortable.

“Think about it.”

“You should consider entering your cat into a cat-gymnastics competition. I bet he’d blow the competition away.”

Sven laughed.

Sylth shook his head. “AI, Box, show me my light spell.” He shouldn’t still be doing this, but, wait for it—.

“I’ve found eight light spells from credible sources. Would you like to review?”

“Did I ask you for that?”

“You do not qualify as a credible source.”

“Those spells are not worth the electrons wasted sending them here.” Of all the information recorded in the universe, Box seemed to think the internet contained most of it. It did not, but Sylth was at a loss for how to make that point clear to the AI.

“One is very similar to yours. It probably works better.”

“Fine. Demonstrate each spell. Let’s see them work.” 

“My answers are grounded in fact and science. There is no such thing as magic.”

“So how do you make it bright in here when there is no sun?”

“I activate the light fixture.”

“There are none in this room.”

“I ordered one the day before yesterday.”

“Came with the Chewy order,” Sven lifted his head.

“Do you want tuna for dinner, or grass clippings?”

“Never mind.” The cat ducked low.

Sylth shifted his attention back to the AI. “I purchased you because of the guarantee that you are a learning device. Either start demonstrating that, or I’m giving you to the dragon.”

“Sven isn’t a dragon.”

“No, he’s not.”

“As you requested, here is the light spell you recorded.”

Words with a short video projected on the front of the chemicals cabinet. It wasn’t the best projection surface, but it worked for now.