Masses of students gathered in the courtyard in front of the cafeteria. A serious looking wizard with long white beard and piercing blue eyes stood on a stone pedestal, that hadn't been there this morning. Students from all classes streamed to the gathering and even the few who'd already entered the mess hall of the cafeteria came back out.

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.

<Selvara! Thank Golgoroth you're here. Did that mage just name himself as Vaelcor Valtanis? The connection to the hare is dwindling and somewhat disturbed.>

"He did indeed. It's the headmaster. Did no one ever mention his name while you've listened?"

<Well, obviously not!>

"Why? Do you know him from your first life?"

Malvorik pondered, the mental connection still open. <Seems to be mid-fifty. With the current date and the year I died… Hair and skin color match… Eyes like his mother, but also developed the prominent chin of his father, poor thing… Selvara, find out if that is his given first name or if he chose it after graduation as a mage.>

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. <Little Arnhold… All grown up to become an archmage and headmaster. Two achievements that require vastly different abilities. Magical prowess for archmage and political cleverness for headmaster.>

Selvara was confused. "Slow down! What are you talking about?"

<Dungeon-Hearts are supposed to not remember their past, so it makes sense not to include a surname in our status sheet. If it did, it would read Malvorik Valtanis.>

"What?!?"

<Yes! That makes him Arnhold Valtanis, a child of my son Lorrik Valtanis and therefore my grandson. Little Arnhold… I wonder if he still collects rocks? When I died, he wasn't even old enough to read his status screen to check if he'd inherited the mage talent. And now he's an archmage and headmaster. No wonder I recognize the old family access runes everywhere. I'd get some celebration drink, but I can't drink as a floating crystal… Say, can you get someone to feed the hare some sparkling wine, so I can get at least second-hand drunk?>

"I won't poison the poor hare for your amusement! Wait… The headmaster is starting the announcement."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

* * *

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.

<Golgoroth, Pallandur and Lieselotte have mercy on us! I think I know what they're hunting. If I'm right, the priestess will freak out. I hope I'm wrong… but no. I'm certain. Weylan, you have to do something! If the hunt succeeds, Faya won't speak to any of us again. Probably because she'll try to kill the headmaster and get vaporized for her trouble.>

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?"

<What? Oh… Yes… I'm rambling… Let me think…> Malvorik's thoughts rushed in tangled bursts. <I've been tracking the ingredients you and others have mentioned as being traded to the goblins. Most of all the Were-Bee Royal Jelly, among others. There are thousands of possible recipes that could benefit from that and dozens that include the other ingredients. But there's only one that needs a body part of an animal that the academy could not procure. Only one that would tempt their High Matron to end a war she's winning. Mind you, it would not be an easy victory. I estimate horrendous casualties among the goblins even in the best of circumstances. And they must know the kingdom will hire revenants if needed. Offering quests and goblin ear bounties would empty the kingdoms coffers, but it could turn the tide of the war. The Arkane Order will probably send most of its troops south soon, to combat the Krigesti incursion, but even then, they will send some support.>

He paused as Weylan blinked in confusion.

The hare's glassy eyes stared back unhelpfully. <I'm rambling again, do I? Okay… Where was I? Ah… yes… There's only one alchemical recipe worth such investment.> He made a dramatic pause.

<It has to be the Elixir of Youth,> Malvorik went on. <It's exactly what it sounds like. It restores the body to its prime and holds it there. It is not quite as powerful as the legendary Elixir of Eternal Youth, which stops aging permanently, but still powerful enough to make nobles, archmages, and monarchs bankrupt themselves for a vial. Taken yearly, it grants health, vitality and near-immortality.>

A pause. <The catch, of course, is that one vital ingredient can't be substituted. And acquiring it will trigger outrage from several faiths and all druidic orders on the continent.>

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?"

<The creature they plan to hunt isn't just rare. It's a Grandmaster-tier magical beast. Almost impossible to find, much less to trap or kill. And the only source of that missing component.>

"Malvorik," he whispered, "spit it out."

<They need a unicorn's horn.>

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…

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