She walked with a thunderous temper, her fists balled like boulders. Following in the wake of the moving storm, I pondered whether now was a good time to report what I'd been up to.

More than likely though, all other matters have been thrown on the back burner for a while.

Without a sponsor, Hannah was at risk of being dropped from the academy. Calling it a spit in the face would be too mild.

During times like this, Hannah sped ahead. She didn't stop her aggressive pace until just before the exit, someone accidentally stumbled out of their office and into her path.

Hannah swerved, dodging the flinching Riker by a narrow margin. This interruption ground her to a halt both physically and mentally.

“I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going.” Riker apologised despite not being at fault.

“Ah...” Hannah regained her composure just enough to make that noise. She could see reflected in Riker's face how she must have looked. “No, that was my fault.”

Having caught up, I peeked inside the office. It looked a lot tidier than before. The window had been fixed and the clutter on the tables had been stashed away somewhere. Her desk looked orderly, no long covered with stray pieces of paper.

Both Hannah and Riker felt the awkward silence. “Um... Have you been cleaning up professor?” She asked to fill in the silence.

Riker nodded and laughed nervously. “Tidying up? No just moving the mess somewhere closer to home.” Despite being tense, she seemed a little more cheerful today. “I've got lots of work to do from home. If you'll excuse me...”

“Right, yeah.” Hannah stepped back to let Riker pass.

I stared up at Hannah dumbly. I wanted to ask her why she didn't ask Riker for help then. Hannah, meeting my gaze simply rolled her eyes.

The sudden appearance of Riker had done a bit to douse the flames of Hannah's temper. She slowed down and the once disorderly raging cogs of her mind whirred with deliberate and pensive thought. Coming face to face with another person during times like this helped put attitudes into perspective.

Despite the downpour wetting my fur and her clothes, Hannah led us back back at our 'favourite' conspiracy brewing spot behind the office building. Hopefully, this time we wouldn't be interrupted by Killian.

Even beneath a clouded sky it felt like Hannah had a tall shadow. “Well?”

“Well what?” She seemed to be expecting something. Forgive me for not looking forward to the verbal beatdown that would come of explaining what I'd done to Linth, but I was hoping to talk about that bit when she'd calmed down.

“Well what do you think?” Again she pressed me but we weren't exactly two peas of a pod. I couldn't just pluck her thoughts out of the air and read them. “About what just happened.”

“Oh, you mean about you almost punching the Nurse? I'm honestly surprised you didn't.” The Nurse had been too blunt in his confession.

Hannah shook her head with a sigh. “Is now the time for joking? We're standing in the rain here so put away your stupidity and hurry up.” The cheek on her to get angry about standing around somewhere she'd taken us to.

“Rude but okay. What did you want to ask my opinion about?” I could confidently say that whatever she asked about, I probably wouldn't know what to say. My mind was lingering still on when I should break the news about Linth knowing I could talk.

“Don't give me that look. You can be smart sometimes.” Hannah fixed her hood over her head and muttered to herself. My sharp ears picked up the rare compliment and I realised she was really wasn't asking for more jokes or half-arsed comments on her situation.

If I had to guess what this was about, it'd be losing her sponsorship. However I was ignorant to the deal she'd struck with the academy. This was the equivalent of asking a priest for advice about the weather.

I'd seen Mather this morning. Without picking his brains, I wouldn't know why he hadn't turned up. But the Nurse felt there was a strong case that Mather had lost interest. The two were more familiar with eachother than us. Perhaps there'd been an argument between them.

“Hmm...” But what would be the right thing to say? My track record with handing out advice was quite bad. But wait, did it have to be me that gave the advice? “Hannah, I don't really know much about your arrangement with the academy. You should probably talk to someone who is actually a part of the academy administration, not a talking cat. I don't think the academy is going to kick you out because Mather isn't sponsoring you anymore. I mean, you've been here for a while now.”

“I won't get kicked from the academy, no, but I won't be able to stay.” Her knuckles where as white as ice. “Losing a sponsor means the academy will stop paying for my accommodation. I'll have to find work.”

“Well, that doesn't sound like the end of the world.” Optimism was important here. As long as she didn't lose hope, I was sure she'd eventually find some work.

Hannah's expression twisted with frustration. Visibly she bit back the urge to snap. “Maybe not for you. But I'd have to put my study of magic on hold. If that's going to be my life, I might as well marry and raise a family with some dull headed guy with all the personality of a plank of wood age and then die a wrinkly old hag who never accomplished anything in life.”

So that was the future she envisioned if her studies failed. Well it was good to know she had a fallback plan. “I don't know if that would be worse than heading back to Amarinth.”

“No. Not a chance. I'd rather cut off my limbs than go back there.”

“Yeah. It's a pretty miserable place compared to the rest of the kingdom. Why not go visit Jean? She might be able to give some advice. Her office is in the better part of the Triolo so you know, she's clearly higher up on the hierarchy.” Office placement was perhaps the greatest determiner of workplace hierarchy.

“Fine. I guess that's a start. But I really feel like punching something right now.” I backed away slowly. “Bring Kyle here. I'm going to settle this argument once and for all.” She pointed downwards with her thumb, eyes ablaze like wrath tarnished stars.

“Kyle? Ah I'm not sure about that. Maybe you'd like to beat Killian up instead?” My once pristine fur cried out for revenge for the indignity it'd suffered on my quest.

“Don't tell me you were right about Killian...” Any minute now she'd start cracking her knuckles.

“I don't know if he's stealing from Riker's office, but I followed him and he's up to something inside the cathedral. There's an intake to a water network beneath the abandoned stone pier north of here. It goes under the cathedral. He's hiding something up there.”

More worries and concerns to investigate were not what Hannah was looking for. “Sneaking into the cathedral is breaking so many rules. I'm pretty sure it's a cirminal offence in this city. But still, you had one job. I wanted a yes/no question answered and you couldn't even do that.”

“Do you think I'm going up there?! I could get stuck up there. There'd be just me, roughly a thousand dead bodies, and Killian. Breakfast isn't worth that! Now can we move somewhere else? I'm freezing to death here in this rain.”

“Fine.” Hannah's own cloak was practically drowned with excess weight. “There's just one last thing I've got to do here.” She swelled her chest as she took in a deep breath.

Thud. The weight of her frustration channelled through her fist and slammed against the wall behind her. One solid punch. One weighty blow against an imaginary opponent, against this infuriating world. She let her fist drop to her side.

“That hurt less than I thought it would.” Shaking her fist, she examined the newly opened cuts on her knuckles.

“Hannah! The Nurse said don't hurt your arms!”

“Don't bring the Nurse back into this. I'll have to punch the wall again now.” No, she really didn't. People challenged me with the most puzzling of behaviours.

“Look, I know you're having a moment, but about that deal we made yesterday about breakfast-”

Thud.

“Maybe another time then.”

Walking under someone's shadow was difficult when distracted. What if Linth told other people I could talk? Doubtful. She was probably grappling with the idea she'd gone insane. And either way, it wasn't like she talked to many people.

Having flocked for shelter, some dangerously oblivious students blind to my presence were pacing through the corridors.

Sadly, students would not be able to greet the festival this weekend under clear skies.

As we exited the otherside of the campus to make our way to Jean, I noticed the traffic on the river was far less busy. With barely a stir in the wind and the nearing dark rumbling in the sky out over the sea, it would have felt like the calm before the storm if not for the all ready present downpour.

Rain really ruined everything.

Hood up and protected by a soaked cloak which, thankfully, was made of tightly woven wool, Hannah traversed the path to Jean's office. Unlike last time, the building looked much busier.

The building that housed Jean's office was large. It accommodated the meeting rooms and the offices of the administrative staff. Unlike the building that housed the Nurse's office, professors weren't encouraged to turn their offices into personal workshops and labrotories here.

Greeting us was the uncommon sight of spell casters from the Order of Ice. Masked and robed, they moved mechanically guided by dispassionate eyes. Escorting them as they were exiting the building was Jean.

“Here's a list of all the applicants for intermediate exams. And here's copies of next years applicants to study.” Jean extended two documents as thick as tomes.

The two spell casters looked down at the documents as they caught the rain. A few seconds passed before the closest reached for it. “This was not the intended purpose of our visit.” They spoke in their strangely monotone voice.

“Yes, however we've seen a rise in the number of students with interesting backgrounds and, therefore, the highest priority is to get them processed so we know how to proceed with their education.”

The two spell casters looked to eachother and exchanged a wordless agreement. “Understood.” They deposited the files into their robes and turned in our direction.

Jean didn't even wave goodbye as they left. Such pleasantries were unnecessary.

Hannah hesitated at the sight of the spell-casters who could well have been the same two who oversaw her basic exam. Sheltering between her feet, I couldn't get a good look at the expression on her face. The Spell-casters didn't give us so much as a glance as they passed us by. I felt some sort of revulsion shiver down my spine. They really were strange.

I knew they did admirable work overseeing spell-casters. The Kingdom of Tallis saw far fewer magic related accidents and disasters thanks to their efforts. But who could blame other countries for not welcoming them so easily as the Kingdom? They were an enigma and their footmen seemed inhuman.

Ahead, Jean waited by the door. Having caught sight of us but still a little too far away to call out. Instead she gave a small wave. This set Hannah in motion again to close the distance.

“Hello Hannah, can I help you?” Jean asked with a cheery smile.

“What were you talking with them about?” Hannah's human ears hadn't picked up the conversation they'd had.

Jean's shoulder sank as she exhaled in a sigh as heavy as her workload. “Academy business. So many papers. My fingers are covered in papercuts!” She puffed out her cheeks indignantly. “I should have a payrise!”

“Right. Well actually there's something we really need to talk about. I've got a big problem.”

Jean shook off the exhaustion and her cheery demeanour all too easily returned. “I don't mind so long as it's helping my students.” After looking Hannah up and down, she insisted that they talked inside in her office. “Look at Adam. Aww you poor cat. All wet and cold and covered in mud. Hannah, you really need to look after him better.”

Yeah, you hear that?! Finally someone who understood my plight.

The chill assaulting my body soon relented. It's siege broken beneath shelter. Wherever we walked, a trail of water would lead straight back to us.

“Ah sorry Hannah. Go to my office I'll be with you in a second. I've just got to talk to someone.” It was far livelier than I remembered it ever being here. Chatter bounced off the corridor walls for a brief moment as Jean slipped into a busy meeting room.

We continued to Jean's office on our own only to find that Jean had locked her office behind her.

“Well this sucks.” Hannah muttered.

I sat down and turned my attention to the idle chatter in the building. Distant voices intermingled, creating a crackling hum that was hard to distinguish individual conversation from. There were more people here than I thought.

“Hannah.” The sound of an unfamiliar voice caught me by surprise. Eerily, a middle aged man dressed in a fine coat coloured purple and brown had snuck up on us. An idea that was preposterous considering I could hear the through the floors of the building.

Hannah quickly straightened as I realised something about this man's characteristics seemed familiar. “Headmaster.”

“I can't help but notice you've brought a river inside with you.” His tone as dry as his clothes much to my jealousy.

“Sorry, I couldn't help it.” With every pause came the stress to fill in the silence. “I'm really thankful for letting you letting me study at your academy.”

The Headmaster paused, the corners of his lips lifting slightly as though amused. “Is that so?” Despite his able appearance, he walked with a cane capped with the metal engraving of a dog's head. His eyes drifted from Hannah to me and lingered for some time. “Getting a better look at you myself, I don't see much credence to the rumours surrounding you.”

“What rumours?”

“The rumours are that you are a witch. I advise against playing into those rumours. I would stay very quiet about any likeness or heritage you share with witches.” The Headmaster's words cast a dim shadow over the conversation. “As you should well know, the Kingdom of Tallis takes a dim view of that magic tradition and it wouldn't help the academy's position if it were accused to teaching witches. Wouldn't you agree?”

His eyes were balefully cold, his imperious glare flattened any resistance or notion this was just a random topic. The razor edge tone in his voice was none other than the very edge Hannah was standing on and the only push she needed to fall was to admit she'd been calling herself a witch.

It was a scary to imagine that those playground rumours had reached the Headmaster's ears.

“Right. Yes of course Headmaster.”

As soon as the words left her mouth the Headmaster's visage lightened. “Well in that case, we're glad to have you. I'm aware of your condition. I'm interested to see what you'll create in order to overcome your circumstance.”

Fwoosh.

From nowhere, a jet of hot air lifted from the floor. In an instant, my fur was as dry as Hannah's cloak after it had settled back down.

Without a word or motion, the Headmaster had used magic. I god damn knew these spell-casters didn't need to yell embarrassingly to cast and I was confronted with living proof!

“Now then, good day to you, Hannah.” He passed without lingering for long, leaving Hannah and I slack-jawed.

We couldn't take our eyes off his back as he walked away until he was out of sight. He felt powerful. Unreasonably powerful. Sure all he'd done was dry us off, but that magnificent bastard sure was smooth about it.

That was Linth's father. The two couldn't be anymore different. But now I at least partially understood. I too would be a nervous wreck if I had to spend most of my life around him.

Wait... That could very well be the man who dissects me if Linth tells him I can talk. I had no doubt in my bones he would.

As though reading my thoughts, Hannah mumbled, “make sure that guy never finds out you can talk.”

Sorry Hannah, I had a lot to answer for the next time we found somewhere more private to chat.

“Sorry for the wait. Oh, did I lock the door? Sorry, my hands act on their own sometimes.” Jean appeared once again, knocking herself lightly on the side of her head for apparent forgetfulness. In her hand she had a new folder of paper.

Opening her office up, she instructed Hannah to take a seat whilst she put the folder away somewhere safe.

“I saw the Headmaster on the way here. We passed eachother by. He's as rude as ever.” Jean small talked as she pulled her desk chair to sit down. “You seem nervous. Did something happen?”

“How... What would happen if I lost my sponsor?”

“Oh. That serious.” Jean leaned up straight in her chair. “Well, the subsidiary you receive from the academy would be placed under review. And considering your condition, the review committee wouldn't be favourable towards you.”

“Right, well is there anything I can do to solve that?”

“They'll look at a list of your achievements. The academy would consider funding students for study who show great promise. They'd expect you to have passed your intermediate licence and be applying for a professional practitioner's licence.” The news was damming, and as such Jean kept her tone level and her explanation clear.

“Well what if the Headmaster stepped in.”

Jean leaned back in her chair with consternation stretched across her face. “How can I put this...” I was willing to bet there was some reluctance to bad-mouth her employer. “It's his job to say that.” She leaned forward, interlocking her fingers on her desk in a very business like manner. “But the Headmaster would only be one voice on the committee, if he decides to place himself there at all.”

If he didn't have that much influence, then what was the point of being Headmaster?

“He often delegates decisions like this to his staff.” Jean continued, filling in the silence as Hannah strained to find something to answer with. “The Headmaster is a political figure despite his low ranking ministerial position. His opponents bay at his feet like a pack of stray dogs, running him ragged until he collapses from exhaustion. We've just received news, well, a demand really, from high ranking noble patriarch. Have you heard of Heron Greatwell? He's planning on holding seminars for the senior students on industry opportunity. I would... not visit those seminars if I were you.” Tentative warning aside, what did this have to do with the current situation?

“So there's not much chance of me keeping my subsidy?”

“Well hold your horses. If you let your thoughts run off on you like that it'll be difficult to corral them back for you to focus.” Jean huffed.

Hannah furrowed her brow. “Jean, you've really got to work on your metaphors.”

Jean lifted a finger and adopted a matter-of-fact tone. “Well what I am saying is, how do you know Professor Mather is going to stop sponsoring you? Things have been going well for him recently. He may be in a very good mood if you talk to him about your concerns.”

“No, I really don't think so.” Hannah shook her head at Jean's optimism and explained how the Nurse had agreed they were both about to be cut loose.

“I see. So even the Nurse had a deal with Mather. That's surprising.” Jean muttered.

“What do you mean?”

“When the tests are run, who does the work?”

“I'm not sure I'm allowed to say.” Hannah answered. Perhaps it was for fear of losing the last of Mather's respect. Or perhaps it was to protect the Nurse. Most likely the latter.

“I see. If that's the case...” Jean trailed off, the unspoken words and conclusion bouncing around in her head. “I should probably tell the Headmaster.”

“Tell him what? Don't just leave sentences unfinished. Some of us want to know what's going on.”

Jean didn't seem too phased by Hannah's glare. She had a calm and collected look to her. “It probably isn't too serious...”

“Oh come on! Don't just carry on with this conversation on your own!” Her protests fell on deaf ears.

“I think you should prepare a list of professors you can ask to be your sponsor.” Jean continued as though she the last ten seconds had never happened.

“I really don't like it when people change the topic so obviously.” Hannah pointed out. “And besides, there aren't any professors besides you that I'm that casual with.”

Jean laughed nervously, the thought of being Hannah's sponsor and personal tutor bringing forth a warranted feeling of stress. “Perhaps Riker.”

“What did you mean before about Mather being in a good mood?” It'd taken that long to process the comment, that was how preposterous the idea was. That guy was probably only in a good mood when his favourite puppy-kicking circus was in town.

Overtime, my mind had steadily demonised Mather to the point where he seemed the kind of guy that only shed tears of happiness when he reminisced about the good old days of when child beating was legal. In comparison to the monster Mather in my head, the real Mather was probably quite a chill dude.

“It's not my place to say...” Jean once more trailed off.

“Jean, you love gossip. In fact, I bet your job here is just gossiping. You probably run the master class of gossip.” And the rumour master Teel was probably a student.

Being called a gossip, Jean winced. “That is sadly very close to the truth. But it's still not my place to say.”

“Jean, the thought of this man being in a good mood grinds my gears more than losing my sponsorship. No, in fact, because I might lose my sponsorship this makes his happiness even more of an affront to my world. There's already loads of rumours going around about him. What's one more?” Hannah ruthlessly prodded the muter Jean.

After sustained bombardment, Jean finally cracked. “Riker and Jean look like they might become an item.”

After dropping that comment, there was a long painful silence.

“Wow.” Hannah fell back into her chair. “The world really is full of little miracles. But I can't help but ask, why would I want to know this?”

“You're the one who insisted! Don't just lean back disappointed as though I was the one hyping this up!” Jean snapped. “This is workplace politics. The likes of you don't belong here. Of course you don't get it! I knew you wouldn't get it. That's why I didn't want to tell you!” Jean also fell back in her chair. “The day isn't even over and yet why do I feel so exhausted?”

“Tell me about it.” Hannah sighed.

The conversation soon died down. Jean, overworked, was hard pressed to return to said work. Hannah, stressed out, was hard-pressed to look for the right answers. And neither had much left to offer each other.

We left the way we came as Jean sifted through the new folder of papers she'd been handed by coworkers. Hannah looked ready to go home and collapse on the closest bed.

Whoever Heron Greatwell was, he'd thrown the administration into a buzz like a hive of hornets. But we had bigger things to worry about. I for one, had some scalpels to avoid.