Some seemed to recognize the wizard, but Weylan drew a blank. He thought he’d seen him once or twice from a distance.
The mage waited until the stream of students thinned and then spoke. His voice carried far and wide without effort. Carried by magic throughout the whole academy.
“Students of Wildeguard Academy. I am Headmaster Vaelcor Valtanis. Before the rumor mill overtakes me and misinformation spreads, I will make an important announcement.”
Faya, who had not looked very interested until now, shook and looked down at the verdant hare. Weylan saw her lifting up her supposed familiar to her shoulder, so he could see better.
Selvara had just landed on Weylan’s shoulder and now lifted off to join the other familiar. Faya had to use some effort to keep both animals on her shoulder. She seemed somewhat confused as the two animals huddled together to watch the announcement. The hare seemed equally confused and uninterested, but leaned at Faya’s head in deep exhaustion.
* * *
Selvara made contact with the verdant hare and by this connected to Malvorik, the dungeon-heart she was bonded with as a dungeon-fairy as well as a familiar. His mental voice was unusually excited.
“He did indeed. It’s the headmaster. Did no one ever mention his name while you’ve listened?”
“Why? Do you know him from your first life?”
Malvorik pondered, the mental connection still open.
She fluttered over to Weylan, unnoticed in the crowded chaos. She asked him and he turned around to look for someone who could have such an obscure information. With some effort, he found Mirabelle pressed between much bigger students. She extricated herself and moved away from the center of the crowd. He winked her over and with some use of excuses and strategic use of elbow strikes, she joined Weylan’s small group. “You seem to be a bit too small to see properly. Should I get Kane to lift you up?”
She scoffed at that. “No need. It’s sufficient if I can hear the announcement.”
Weylan looked at the headmaster, then back down at Mirabelle. “Say, someone mentioned the headmaster had another first name…”
Mirabelle answered with her usual precision. “According to the book Chronicles of Wildeguard, which you absolutely should read for background information about the history of the academy, he was born as Arnhold Valtanis, but chose the classic Cathurian name Vaelcor at his graduation.”
Selvara flew back to the hare, but Malvorik had already heard and was practically vibrating of excitement.
Selvara was confused. “Slow down! What are you talking about?”
“What?!?”
“I won’t poison the poor hare for your amusement! Wait… The headmaster is starting the announcement.”
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* * *
The headmaster spread his arms, a ripple of magic amplifying his voice until it carried across the entire courtyard.
“Students, faculty, and honored guests,” he began. “I am pleased to announce that our negotiations with the Goblin Empire have succeeded, at least in part. The High Matron has accepted our offer of trade for several rare alchemical reagents. However, one final ingredient remains beyond our reach. Because of this, the truce is temporary.”
A murmur ran through the crowd, hushed again when he raised a hand.
“To obtain that last ingredient,” Vaelcor continued, “we have agreed to a Great Hunt, which is to be held in four weeks’ time. Until then, you will have the opportunity to train your spellcasting, and craft or gather equipment. Teams will be organized much like during the Everdark Canyon excursion. Team sizes will be between five and eight individuals. The hunting grounds will be the Northern Wildewood Forest. The goblins have granted us access and promised not to attack academy teams. They will withdraw their warriors except for three of their own hunting teams, that will continue to try to get the target. Should they succeed before us, peace will still be secured, but under far less favorable terms.”
The air filled with excited whispers and questions. Vaelcor waited until the noise ebbed, then went on.
“The exact nature of the target will be revealed to you only on the morning of the hunt,” he said. “That precaution is necessary to keep any eager students from starting early. The goblins already know what the creature is of course. They have already tried and failed to catch it several times. I do not expect them to succeed now or during the hunt.”
While the speech continued, Weylan noticed Faya struggling to balance the Verdant Hare on her shoulder. He stepped closer and did his best knight imitation. “May I have the honor of carrying your noble familiar? You look about ready to lose an arm.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. “Cut the drama. But yes, please. He’s heavier than he looks.”
He carefully lifted the hare to his own shoulder, steadying it with a hand. Faya made sure the creature was settled safely, then murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”
Weylan nodded and returned his concentration on the announcement. At least he tried to, but froze as a familiar mental voice cut in, tense and rapid.
Weylan couldn’t speak freely with all of those students around, so he only tilted his head slightly toward the hare and whispered: “What are you talking about?”
He paused as Weylan blinked in confusion.
The hare’s glassy eyes stared back unhelpfully.
A pause.
Weylan glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then lifted the hare in front of him and hissed through clenched teeth, truly at the end of his patience. “What ingredient?”
“Malvorik,” he whispered, “spit it out.”
Weylan froze, and lowered his arms to unconsciously cradle the hare.
A unicorn. The most majestic and noble creature known. And everyone knew the only way to get its horn… was to kill it.
Faya would never stand for it. She’d attack the headmaster before letting that happen… and likely die for it. Weylan’s mind raced. He had to find a way to stop the hunt. Or, at least, make sure it failed. And then find another solution to the goblin problem. And survive the wrath of every single academy member.
The rest of the speech washed over him in a blur.
The headmaster raised his voice again to cut through the murmurs. “In addition to our own academy teams and the goblin hunters, three outside factions have been granted entry into the competition. The Were-People, the Arkane Order, and the Monastery of the Aether Body will each send one team to join the hunt. Their participation was part of the negotiation terms. I expect all of you to treat them as both allies and rivals. This is, after all, a contest of skill, not a war. The most important part is that we acquire the target ingredient. No matter who does it. A priest of Pallandur has been consulted and he assured me, that the God of Quests looks favorably upon our endeavor. Experience and quest rewards will be distributed generously, based on your contribution to the final success.”
Around him, students buzzed with excitement. Hundreds of magic users, all eager for glory. Some would balk at the target once they learned it, but most would charge into the Wildewood without hesitation.
Weylan swallowed hard, staring into the distance.
I’m living in interesting times indeed…