Another Voice: Secretary

The office of the Headmaster occupied the highest floor of the tallest tower. The Headmaster's desk was large, comfortable, and extremely elegant.

As it so happened, there was a second desk in the room. Somewhat smaller, rather less elegant, and much less comfortable, it was reserved for the secretary.

She was quite busy that afternoon, copying form letter after form letter from an imito tabella onto high-quality silk paper, then filling in the blanks with the names of students, their new familiars, and so on. The Headmaster was calling them out as the familiars were summoned, effectively acting as her assistant. For once.

She had a new letter ready to go when the Headmaster sighed, stepped away from the window to his desk, and pulled out his favorite pipe.

What could possibly have him so stressed? she wondered, taking advantage of the break to massage her hand. We've already had a salamander for the Germanian girl, what's more trouble than-

"Headmaster Osmond, is it the Vallière girl?"

"I'm afraid so, Miss Longueville." He returned to the window and took a deep puff from the pipe. "She seems to be trying a second time."

Sometimes, if it didn't work the first time, a second attempt at the rite, or even a third, might be successful. Sometimes. Of course, it helped if the student in question had ever managed to cast a spell before, but one did not say no to some of the most powerful nobles in Tristain when they insisted that their youngest daughter was more than an inexprimé sport. Not without absolute proof, such as failing to summon a familiar.

He started pacing back and forth, and she rolled her eyes when he had his back to her. Today looked like it was going to be one of those-

And sure enough, a sharp impact came from behind her - stone on knuckles - and the old man withdrew a bruised hand that had wandered far too close to her backside. Shortly after that, an angry squeaking came from under the desk, as the mouse that was his familiar(and accomplice in voyeurism) fled the tiny dust devil that had assaulted it, preventing it from trying to peer up her dress.

"Mótsognir! Poor thing . . . must you be so cruel to an innocent creature, Miss Longueville?"

She clenched her teeth as he resumed calling out the new familiars. One more of your little tricks, you old pervert, and I'm taking the pipe away for two weeks! If it were anyone else, they'd have some respect for a mage's right to refuse unwanted attention. Osmond, on the other hand, had the power and skill to get away with it like no one else. And in the few months she'd been working for him, she'd seen plenty of proof that the Headmaster still deserved the title of archmage. If nothing else, he was good for keeping her on her toes.

Finally the Headmaster called out the last summoning. Then he frowned. "I fear I shall have to write Miss Vallière's parents personally," he said as he walked over to his desk and sat down. "This will require great delicacy."

Given the situation, a letter written in any hand but his own would be an insulting dismissal. She was glad enough to leave him to it as she considered the new dietary requirements and how to best fit them into the budget. Some of the families would be more than able to handle the additional fee, but not all, even with the prestige of a familiar extraordinary enough to require special care.

The Headmaster's quill was still busy when the door opened up and one of the instructors – a Jean Colbert, if she recalled correctly - rushed inside. "Headmaster! I have some disturbing news about Miss Vallière!"

"Yes, I know. She failed to cast-"

"No, sir! Well, yes, she failed, but she eventually succeeded, and-"

"She did? That is excellent news, is it not?"

"Because we won't have to deal with her parents?" Mr. Colbert shook his head. "We might have to anyway. She summoned a commoner."

"A what?" That got the Headmaster to look up from the letter he was trying to write.

"A commoner. By his coloring, I might wager him a half-breed from one of the northern Germanian provinces - ruddy skin, muddy hair and eyes - but he doesn't have their features, not even mixed with the Easterlings. And Brimir knows he isn't small enough."

"Oh?"

"He's big. Enormous. What you'd see, perhaps, if a heavy infantryman married a rich merchant's daughter and they raised their son on steak and honey. I daresay he's never seen a hungry winter in his life."

Osmond blinked. "And you are certain that he was truly summoned?"

Mr. Colbert nodded. "I checked twice, even three times to be certain. Yes, he had just been summoned, and yes, the binding was successful. Although it caused him to swoon, and I had to ask de Gramont to Levitate him to wherever Miss Vallière decides to keep him."

"Then that answers that." Headmaster Osmond frowned. "This will require even greater delicacy than I thought."

"Headmaster?"

"A human familiar is unique. We don't know what element is represented, and we don't know what powers it might have. Her parents, no matter how concerned, must be convinced to avoid interfering until we have had a chance to learn all we can."

"Ah. Then you should know that the benediction of acceptance concluded with her kissing him. On the lips." Then Mr. Colbert chuckled. "I'm not sure which one of them looked more surprised by it. But still, a kiss-"

"Supreme delicacy." The headmaster rubbed his temples. "Was there anything else?"

"No - wait, yes. Some sort of design appeared on the commoner's hand after the kiss, just before his faint. I'd say writing, but they weren't in the Romalian script, or either of the Easterling scripts."

Osmond looked up again. "An unknown script? You may need to consult the Fenrir archives. Romalian letters have only been universal in Halkeginia for the last thousand years, after all, so perhaps there might be a match in the older documents."

Mr. Colbert nodded. "Of course. By your leave, Headmaster?"

"Yes, yes, you may go."

As the instructor left, Headmaster Osmond took one look at what he'd written and tossed it aside. He sat there, muttering to himself and puffing furiously.

The secretary sighed to herself. He's going to be absolutely impossible to work with until this is settled.

A/N: I have something of a love-hate relationship with ZnT canon. Some things will be the same, some things will be similar, and I will at least try to keep things recognizable. I'm also trying to get this to where you don't actually need to have read or seen the canon story to understand what's going on.

Imito tabella - Something you can apparently copy things from.

Inexprimé - French word that means unspoken or unexpressed.

Mótsognir - According to the wiki, Osmond's familiar is named Chuchu. According to the translation of the light novels that I have, 'chuchu' is the onomatopoeia for the sound that Mótsognir makes. According to Norse mythology, Mótsognir is the father of dwarves, created by Odin and his brothers out of Ymir's remains. This won't be the last time a Norse mythology reference shows up, believe me.

Levitate - Spell. Details to follow as they're revealed.