The schoolmaster at the time had been Larcus, one of the great wizards of modern times. As soon as he discovered what Wagnard had done, Larcus confronted him. The schoolmaster cast a powerful forbidden spell on Wagnard that would cause him unbearable pain whenever he tried to use magic. Then, he expelled him and sent him away.
But Wagnard endured. He learned how to focus through the pain and cast his spells, fueled by his desire for vengeance against Larcus and the Academy.
He used magic to acquire enormous wealth in Kanon, traveled to Marmo bearing gifts, and made himself court wizard for Beld, the Dark Emperor who had conquered the island.
Three years ago, Larcus died—and after his death, Wagnard’s revenge finally came to fruition. His dark machinations steadily undermined the Academy like a disease. Young students and wizards were murdered on the streets of Allan, and none of the Academy’s attempts to fight back worked. One of the masters was killed. The library and treasury were raided; priceless books and ancient artifacts were stolen. Everything that remained was reduced to ashes in a fire.
And with that, the venerable Wizard Academy was totally destroyed. The surviving masters and wizards scattered all over Lodoss. Only Juggle, the eldest of them all, stayed behind.
“How terrible,” Etoh said, clenching his fists in anger.
“It truly is,” Slayn said, laying his hands on his knees. “In a way, it was fortunate that I’d already left Allan and was never a target for Wagnard.”
“Didn’t the kingdom do anything?” Etoh asked.
“What could it do against ancient, powerful forces? Even if they’d posted hundreds of guards, it wouldn’t have changed their fate. That’s how dangerous Wagnard is.”
“You’re not in danger anymore?” Deedlit asked in a small voice.
“Probably not.” Slayn answered simply. “The Academy is destroyed, Wagnard’s revenge is complete—though he may have new evil plots in the works. He is working for the Dark Emperor, after all.”
“I can’t forgive this Wagnard,” Parn suddenly shouted. The others turned to him in surprise as he jumped violently to his feet, shoving a fist into the air. “But if the wizards all knew he did it, why didn’t they stand against him? They have magic! Are they really that cowardly?!”
“They’re not like you,” Slayn said, placating him. “Magic isn’t like a sword. It can be used to kill, true, but wizards don’t study magic to win battles.”
“But what about Wort? He was a Sage and one of the Six who defeated the Demon King!” Slayn didn’t reply—Parn had the same look on his face that he always did when he mentioned the legendary heroes.
“I just don’t understand why they didn’t band together,” Parn said, quieter. “I would’ve—”
“ ‘I would’ve beat the stuffing out of that Wagnard,’ is that it?” a voice cut in from behind them.
Parn flinched and looked around, hand on his sword hilt. “Who’s there?!”
A man stood behind them. “Oops, sorry for startling you,” he said, hopping back and waving his arms—signaling that he was harmless. The thief who’d been sitting at the counter had managed to slip around them and sneak up behind Parn without any of them noticing.
Woodchuck had been eavesdropping on Parn—a useful habit for a thief. He constantly listened to other people’s conversations, hoping for leads on rich-sounding targets or to overhear people planning out lucrative-sounding schemes to weasel into. Even a totally neutral conversation could be plundered for useful information.
Of course, this time he didn’t even have to try to listen in—Parn’s enthusiasm and volume made it easy.
“Listening to you talk, I thought, this young man could very well be the hero who’ll defeat Wagnard! And I know the perfect place for you to start—and work off some of that anger.” Woodchuck peered into Parn’s face with his best salesman’s smile—the surprise had melted off Parn’s face and was replaced with obvious interest.
“Listening to a thief is dangerous,” Slayn warned, surprisingly sharp.
“I should think you’d want to hear about this too, Mister Academy Wizard.” Woodchuck turned to the wizard with a thin smile, aware that this was his moment. “There’s a rumor that the treasure stolen from your Academy is hidden at a particular place. If that’s true, maybe it’s possible to rebuild your school. You’d be lauded as a hero.”
Despite his misgivings, Slayn had to admit he was tempted. He knew he’d never be able to totally rebuild, but recovering the books and treasures would be an important start. And it’d bring a smile to Old Juggle’s face.
If only it were true…
“Ears to discern truth,” he said, whispering a spell. He felt magic course through his body, then concentrate in his ears. The spell was cast—if the thief lied, Slayn’s ears would hear through it immediately.
“I’d like to hear more of what you have to say,” Slayn said to Woodchuck. He gestured the thief to an empty chair.
Finally! Woodchuck smiled to himself as he sat. My luck hasn’t failed me yet.
“I’ll tell you, but I expect payment in return,” he began, then beamed at them. “You’ve got an elf and a dwarf? That’s a fearsome fighting combination.”
“Give us your story already,” Parn said haughtily. “I only draw my sword for justice.”
“Of course, young warrior. I guarantee that this won’t harm your good name,” laughed Woodchuck.
“That wasn’t a lie…” Slayn muttered to himself. “Except the flattery about his ‘good name.’”
The more Woodchuck talked to Parn, the more he thought the younger man would be perfect for his purposes—and so decided to tell them everything. “You’re adventurers, right? I’ve always admired your sort.”
As he spoke he had to remind himself—Play nice, these people are your meal ticket, and you’re out of options.