Post by Sylph on Sept 5, 2009 10:16:24 GMT -5
When Sylph had stuck her head round the headmaster’s office door that morning, Talon had rushed past her and out of his office, magically pursued by what seemed like half a metric ton of paper whilst softly hissing something about a form “twenty-three-stroke-twelve-stroke-B.” What this meant Sylph wasn’t entirely sure, but apparently it was enough for the wizard to ignore Sylph entirely.
The violet haired witch waited a full fifteen minutes for the frazzled Talon to return, but when he failed to appear she sighed, somewhat grumpily it had to be said, and slung herself into the headmaster’s own chair feeling more than a little frustrated. As her glittering eyes roved over the clutter on Talon’s desk, however, she began to realise just why the headmaster was rushed off his feet.
There were requests for everything. The ICW wanted full audits on the school – payroll, expenditure, details of rebuilding works and so on. The British, French, German and Greek Ministries of Magic were demanding full lists of students and staff, apparently for their own records. There were forms to do with new entrants, a huge pile of papers to be marked… the list went on. And Sylph had only looked at the stuff on top of the tottering stacks of parchment.
Sylph gave a low whistle and she gingerly thumbed through a few of the documents that littered the headmaster’s desk. Poor Talon. No wonder he had ignored her - probably thought she was there to deliver more bad news about the nosferatu or something – just about the last thing he needed. Abandoning the papers, Sylph leaned back in the chair and let out a heavy sigh. As she did so, though, a bright pink something flashed out of the corner of her eye. Upon further inspection this pink thing was yet another piece of parchment – though why it was pink was a mystery – pinned to one of Talon’s bookshelves. Upon it, Sylph noticed with a small jolt, was her own name, written hastily in Talon’s own hand. Stretching out her arm so that she could snatch up this note without needing to get up, Sylph quickly scanned the rest of the parchment, which read quite simply;
All epic heroics shall be left to Sylph and Forgoil to figure out.
A wry smile curved at Sylph’s lips. Below this was a list of particulars which needed to be taken care of. None of them were overly important, but one intrigued her slightly. ‘Justiciar’s Phylactery.’ The who’s what? Oh, right, Mury. The thing that used to be Mury. Sylph frowned. What the hell did that mean – his ‘phylactery’? Just as the deputy headmistress was pondering this, another thought entered her head. A bad thought. A thought which she knew that she should ignore completely.
The books.
It was so rare for Sylph to be alone in this office. She had done reasonably well to disguise her desire to have a look at the books of her own element, which Talon had somehow magically retrieved. She knew that it was probably a very bad idea to do so, but something kept nagging at the back of her mind to get hold of one. Sylph glanced up. The headmaster still wasn’t back yet. She could have a quick peak, couldn’t she? No harm in that? But where did he keep them? Her eyes fell upon a locked cabinet. Wasn’t that the place? Sylph’s fingers flexed involuntarily. It would be so easy.
But wrong. Very wrong. Maybe the reason Sylph had felt none of this elementalist curse that Talon put so much stock in was because she had learned the hard way how to control her element. Or maybe, as she believed, there was no such thing as the curse. She sat for a long moment, staring at the cabinet without moving. Then, so suddenly that she even surprised herself, Sylph slammed her fist into the desk and let forth a strangled growl. She couldn’t do it, not without Talon’s blessing.
God she hated being a good guy.
If she had been grumpy before, now the purple haired professor was decidedly fuming. But how to help her relax? Her gaze flitted back to the pink parchment, and a slightly twisted smile crossed her face. Ah yes. Of course. Placing down the parchment, Sylph leaned back in her chair again and placed her hands behind her head. She didn’t know if he’d show, of course, but it was worth a try.
“Mury?” she said out loud. “Oh Mury, do come here please.”
The violet haired witch waited a full fifteen minutes for the frazzled Talon to return, but when he failed to appear she sighed, somewhat grumpily it had to be said, and slung herself into the headmaster’s own chair feeling more than a little frustrated. As her glittering eyes roved over the clutter on Talon’s desk, however, she began to realise just why the headmaster was rushed off his feet.
There were requests for everything. The ICW wanted full audits on the school – payroll, expenditure, details of rebuilding works and so on. The British, French, German and Greek Ministries of Magic were demanding full lists of students and staff, apparently for their own records. There were forms to do with new entrants, a huge pile of papers to be marked… the list went on. And Sylph had only looked at the stuff on top of the tottering stacks of parchment.
Sylph gave a low whistle and she gingerly thumbed through a few of the documents that littered the headmaster’s desk. Poor Talon. No wonder he had ignored her - probably thought she was there to deliver more bad news about the nosferatu or something – just about the last thing he needed. Abandoning the papers, Sylph leaned back in the chair and let out a heavy sigh. As she did so, though, a bright pink something flashed out of the corner of her eye. Upon further inspection this pink thing was yet another piece of parchment – though why it was pink was a mystery – pinned to one of Talon’s bookshelves. Upon it, Sylph noticed with a small jolt, was her own name, written hastily in Talon’s own hand. Stretching out her arm so that she could snatch up this note without needing to get up, Sylph quickly scanned the rest of the parchment, which read quite simply;
All epic heroics shall be left to Sylph and Forgoil to figure out.
A wry smile curved at Sylph’s lips. Below this was a list of particulars which needed to be taken care of. None of them were overly important, but one intrigued her slightly. ‘Justiciar’s Phylactery.’ The who’s what? Oh, right, Mury. The thing that used to be Mury. Sylph frowned. What the hell did that mean – his ‘phylactery’? Just as the deputy headmistress was pondering this, another thought entered her head. A bad thought. A thought which she knew that she should ignore completely.
The books.
It was so rare for Sylph to be alone in this office. She had done reasonably well to disguise her desire to have a look at the books of her own element, which Talon had somehow magically retrieved. She knew that it was probably a very bad idea to do so, but something kept nagging at the back of her mind to get hold of one. Sylph glanced up. The headmaster still wasn’t back yet. She could have a quick peak, couldn’t she? No harm in that? But where did he keep them? Her eyes fell upon a locked cabinet. Wasn’t that the place? Sylph’s fingers flexed involuntarily. It would be so easy.
But wrong. Very wrong. Maybe the reason Sylph had felt none of this elementalist curse that Talon put so much stock in was because she had learned the hard way how to control her element. Or maybe, as she believed, there was no such thing as the curse. She sat for a long moment, staring at the cabinet without moving. Then, so suddenly that she even surprised herself, Sylph slammed her fist into the desk and let forth a strangled growl. She couldn’t do it, not without Talon’s blessing.
God she hated being a good guy.
If she had been grumpy before, now the purple haired professor was decidedly fuming. But how to help her relax? Her gaze flitted back to the pink parchment, and a slightly twisted smile crossed her face. Ah yes. Of course. Placing down the parchment, Sylph leaned back in her chair again and placed her hands behind her head. She didn’t know if he’d show, of course, but it was worth a try.
“Mury?” she said out loud. “Oh Mury, do come here please.”