Prologue

My name is Nicholas Piberius Copperfield Wilde and I am a professional wizard. The only practicing professional wizard in all of Zootopia. It says so right on my business card. You can find me in the yellow pages under "Wizard". You'll have to look pretty hard, as I'm the only service listed, but you'll find it between "Wildlife Rescue" and "Women's Shelter". Do mammals even use the yellow pages these days? I suppose not, with the advent of smartphones and the internet. Not that I can use those things, but maybe I can save myself some cash by not having an ad in there anymore? I just have to look at one of those infernal devices and it damn near explodes; smartphones that is.

Why's that you ask? It's a good question. You see, magic and technology don't mix very well. Hell, I can blow out all of the streetlights within a 500 foot radius with a fairly simple spell. Not that I would do that of course, or have….. Err, recently. But magic and technology made after about 1980 just don't mix overly well. Trust me, it sucks. It means I can't have very nice things. Not that being a professional wizard pays well enough to have nice things to begin with.

Take my apartment for example. It's in the basement of this lovely place called the Grand Pangolin Arms. Trust me, there is nothing grand about it; if I say so myself, it's a fucking dump. It's cold and drafty, but it's mine. My bed? If only I could have such a nicety as a true bed! Nope, only a drawer in what had to have been an elephant dresser is all I get. The heater only works maybe every other year, I haven't had a hot shower since….. Know what, I really don't remember the last time I had a hot shower. Maybe seven years ago, or was it eight, when I had that gym membership? Anyway, the only truly nice thing about the place is I get the sub basement as well, since the only entrance is through my apartment. It was used as a bomb shelter during the second world war. But now it's my lab. What, don't believe me? What self respecting wizard doesn't have a lab? Right, right I'm the only one. Then I guess you'll just have to take my word for it that no self respecting wizard wouldn't have a lab.

Why tell you where I live? It doesn't matter, you'll never find my door; only those in true need find my door, or I guess they can call my office and schedule an appointment. What? I'm a wizard, a professional. I even have office hours: Monday through Friday 9am to 5pm, closed 12 to 1 for lunch. Yeah, yeah laugh it up; but don't come crying to me if some random spook starts haunting your pipes, or you get an infestation of fairies. By the way, never feed a fairy, no matter how cute they look. You'll make it four times as hard to convince them to leave, which will then cause my rates go up along with the chance of property damage that you WILL sign a waiver for, and I'll demand at least a grand up front to even start.

Anyway… How did I start, you ask? Well you see, when a mommy witch and a daddy warlock love each other very much….. Oh, you want to know that….. Well you see I don't like or trust you enough to share that story with you at the moment; trust me, that is a tragic story worthy of the Greeks.

Oh, you want to know THAT…. I don't know, Carrots and I could both get in a lot of trouble. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four hundred, five hundred, ok, ok, ok… At least now I can make rent on my office, and I don't think Carrots will begrudge me that. Not after the mess she dragged me into. Unknowingly of course, but still a mess.

You see, I wish I could say it all starts on a dark and stormy night. But it doesn't. It was neither dark nor stormy; it was more like an annoyingly bright mid May day…