Magic Revolution - Chapter 41

I wrote a few formulae on an old newspaper with my unharmed, left hand in an awkward fashion, hoping they may come of use in Property Derivative lectures. Not long after, I found myself searching through the wardrobe in boredom. There, I found the notes that I had sent with Ms Karla Varleii. They were untouched, proof of Ms Lasfield’s long sleep. I read through them and made a few more notes — a sentence here for clarification, a sentence there showcasing significance, and so on.

It was nearly ten o’clock when the storm suddenly turned less violent. It was still dark, and the cold had seeped into the walls. It was then that a little quiver was heard, a slight groan. To my relief, it was Ms Lasfield. She had woken up.

‘Hello,’ I said, walking towards the girl that lay in bed. She rubbed her watery eyes once or twice before looking at my two colleagues and me. I gathered that sleepiness was yet to dissipate. ‘How do you feel?’ I asked, studying at her. Her eyes were less scary than usual. They seem to bear a softness never seen before. The feeble image of her aligned with the bloody figure of that day. The way she lay spewing blood only induced pity in me. No child should have to go through it. Such horror was best left for the likes of me and Ms Olsberg.

‘Fine…’ the girl replied in a hoarse voice, watching me. I had come to understand why. Who am I, right? I was in a difficult spot. I was confounded as to how I should answer her. I couldn’t simply say, I happen to be your boyish professor! How do you like my new face? Costly, it was!

‘Do you remember me?’ asked Ms Orchard, taking a seat beside her bed.

‘The doctor from before…?’ she said in a quiet tone.

‘I did not properly introduce myself, I believe,’ saying so, Ms Orchard introduced herself. Not much needed to be said. Mr Dew’s friend and a professor was enough, it seemed.

‘A professor?’ the girl asked, looking around for someone.

‘I am here to speak about a few things with you.’ The blue-eyed woman went on to ask a few questions. She looked for any faults in her memory which appeared intact. I hoped she would not ask about anything related to the event in depth, and the blonde professor clearly did not. She was cautious as not to open the hidden wounds. ‘What is your favourite colour?’ she asked.

‘I…haven’t thought of it…’

Ms Orchard continued to ask questions. I noticed a pattern here. She seemed to be mixing trivial questions with some that bore importance. It was as if she was diverting her attention before carefully poking her psyche. It was fun to watch. Not a line twitched on Ms Orchard’s face while the girl seemed pensive. It went on for about twenty minutes. I watched as the elegant woman deliberately created abrupt pauses while writing down what appeared to be gibberish. I noticed that she utilised the moment to observe the girl, her half-closed eyes always reading the girl’s face. I believed she was putting thoughts in the child’s mind, leaving her with ample time to process them. She seemed curious about where they would lead her head.

‘Well done,’ said Ms Orchard while standing out of her seat. She gestured me aside with a glance, and the instinctive Ms Olsberg pulled the girl into a one-sided conversation.

‘Lile,’ Ms Orchard said as we faced the door to the room. ‘She seems fine.’

That was an awful lot of secrecy for such news. Either way, my face lit up. ‘That is wonderful, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but,’ — I knew nothing after a but was ever a good thing — ‘she seems fine. I am not convinced. She requires further observation. I believe she is repressing her memories. It is a common occurrence in victims of any attack. To what degree they reveal their emotions is inversely related to their trauma.’ She took a breath and grimly said, ‘Lile, accidents and incidents affect a person in completely different ways. It is a wonderful result that she is not traumatised enough to shout in horror every time she wakes; it may not affect her social life much.’ People rarely tend to approach the broken ones, she whispered. Those words broke my heart. It was a sad truth. ‘If she ever confronts a thing that reminds her of the finer details — the fear-inducing particles — then she may act destructively.’

‘Destructive, Ms Orchard?’ Concern took hold of me.

‘Some may scream, shout, and break whatever comes in sight. While some may cause themselves harm.’ She did not need to elaborate further. I had a good idea.

‘That would be the worst,’ I whispered, my eyes glued to the girl that spoke normally with Ms Olsberg.

‘Yes. Thankfully, she appears healthy. As long as she does not confront her fears, she should be safe although affected to some degree. I will speak with the Professor of Psychology and a few others. Neuroscience is a newly established field; I will speak with the Professor in charge.’

‘Will she be fine?’

‘Nothing you should worry about. Although she won’t ever be her previous self — which is to be expected of any event traumatic or not — she should be fine in proper care.’ She turned to me with some deliberation. Her voice softened. ‘I once studied a woman. She was attacked by dogs. She was not hurt; they hadn’t even bitten her. If I remember correctly, there was a pack of seven or nine stray dogs that surrounded her while she was on one of her leisurely walks. She recalled to me on one of our talks that she cried briefly after going home.’ A glint shone in the lovely woman’s eyes. ‘You see, not a single man helped her. They watched as the dogs barked and the woman shrieked. She feared that they would tear and gouge upon her. Even the lady that was feeding them did not intervene until some elderly man shouted and cried.’

Pathetic, I thought. I knew not the parties involved, but I was utterly disgusted. ‘Cowards,’ I muttered.

‘Since then, the woman began fearing those beasts. She would turn pale at the barks from afar. With time, she has progressed significantly, but even now hounds draw the fear out of her. One can say it was a traumatic experience, but thankfully, it did not affect anything but her leisurely walks. Consider the same for your student. She may change but never entirely. Her fear may not be widely spread but rather highly concentrated on one particular point like the woman I mentioned. Consider it a good result. She may lose friends and interests, but—’

‘She will live a normal life.’

Ms Orchard agreed. I looked out the window. The clouds still roared, and the rain still fell. Lightening was no less flashy while winds ran unruly. ‘Do you believe,’ I asked in uncertainty, ‘that the first aid I performed might have affected her in some way?’

‘Difficult to say, Lile.’ She was honest. I was not particularly concerned about my involvement in the girl’s pain. My actions were necessary to save her life, and I did not regret one bit of it. ‘I will suggest keeping an eye on her. I believe you will do that?’

‘Of course.’ I perked up. ‘I will keep her mind occupied with magic.’

Ms Orchard nodded. ‘Good.’ Her serene eyes turned to the girl. ‘You will do well with her.’ I took that as a compliment. If I had a tail, it would have wagged frantically. I was praised by someone I should admire — a wise senior in my profession. It is wonderful to be recognised, I thought, a little shy. I was a mage, one of the few ones. In that sense, I should be more responsible and less easy to be pleased. Yet somehow, I looked up to her. It was not only her. I looked up to more than a few professors I had crossed paths with. After our last conversation, I had come to realise her wisdom.

I was lost in thought when I heard the girl’s voice. ‘…Where is Professor?’ I looked at her looking around and wondered if I should gently see myself out. But alas, it was too late. She noticed the gazes of my two colleagues that were directed towards me. And her eyes slowly searched me. She had noticed the similarities between my old and new faces. Her eyes turned from my face to my hands. The left one was fine while the right one was wrapped in a beautiful glove. Her eyes widened. Now, she did not even question her thought process. Her eyes were alternating between me, my colleagues, and the glove.

‘Professor…?’ she whispered in an awkward, astounded and questioning tone.

I too did not betray her expectations. I laughed awkwardly. ‘Hello, Ms Lasfield. How do you do?’ She was not ready for an explanation.

***

The next few minutes were spent explaining to her my fragile situation. She accepted it on the account of my colleagues. It was surprising, but as a wonderful mage should, she abandoned all care and worry for me and asked curious questions. I was proud of that ruthlessness and a little hurt. But soon, I noticed her avoiding my gaze. I refrained from asking why. I was a handsome fellow, you see. Handsomest, I would say, but I am afraid the envious may disagree.

‘Here,’ I said, placing the notes on her bed as she sat with her back leaning against the wall. ‘These will help you. Ask me anything you do not understand. Ms Orchard has informed me that you wish to be able to leave the hospital for our next lecture. Do not be in a hurry, I would say. Let your body mend; rest comes later.’ She nodded, keeping her eyes on the notes. I noticed her sneaking glances at me. Is it because of my face or what happened in the basement? I did not know, but I believed, with time, she would come around. Yet I convinced myself, Because of my beauty, of course! I dare not question who could resist.

We were speaking of the hunt — to which she showed no particular aversion — when the door was knocked. Ms Orchard opened it and, ‘Professor,’ she called. I looked back to find two black-uniformed guards in the hallway. Anxiety struck me, and Ms Olsberg too narrowed her eyes. I walked up to them and found that an urgent meeting had been called.

‘In this storm?’ I asked, astounded. It was fierce still.

‘Yes, Professor,’ the man in the doorway said. He was no one I knew, but he behaved courteously. ‘We have been told to bring you with us. It concerns you greatly.’ That did not sound promising.

‘Who called it?’ Ms Olsberg asked.

‘The Dean.’

The great one! I thought. Of course, I must leave. I wished to depart right away, but the sight of the girl deterred me. She had just woken up, and the words of Ms Orchard concerned me further.

‘I will stay with her,’ the blue-eyed, blonde woman said to my delight. ‘I have yet to study her further.’

‘Thank you,’ I said and took the coat that Ms Parkinson had brought for me. I was adorned in a snowy, white tailcoat with a black cravat. I had to clean my shoes, but they appeared fairly fine. I looked a fine gentle— I sighed. Not a gentleman; I have never looked like a fine gentleman. It used to be a young man, and now a— I shan’t even say. The only feature about my face that did not seem womanly was the scar under my eye, but even such a trivial thing wasn’t earned. I knew little about it, but I wondered if I should forge a false yet valiant story around it. The beast clawed me? No, far too unbelievable. I would be dead if it did. I gave up the idea.

Once again, I looked in the mirror and felt a little off. ‘Ah,’ I exclaimed. ‘My glasses.’ And it struck me like lightning. Even without glasses, I could see. What witchery is this? I was baffled. I truly did not know how to interpret it. Mutation has returned my eyesight? This created so many possibilities and so many scenarios worth exploring. I can write a paper on this! Goodness, I was a genius! Of course, what a brilliant mind! I spared no moment to praise myself; none should. I was happy about ridding myself of spectacles, but above all, I was happy that something good had come out of my new appearance.

Ms Olsberg dutifully returned my spectacle case which I placed in my inner pocket. I had no use for it, and I feared I may have wasted the academy’s funds. Such thoughts were concerning but they did not erase my quivering smile. While Ms Orchard wished me well in the doorway, as I was about to leave, I heard a murmur behind me. Turning around, I found Ms Lasfield who had somewhat come to terms with my new appearance. She was saying something to me, her eyes still lifeless.

‘Thank you, she says,’ replied Ms Olsberg, who checked herself in the mirror and followed behind me. I replied with a joyous and curt welcome and left alongside my two escorts and Ms Olsberg. When I said she could wait, she whispered in my ears, making sure no one else heard, ‘I was not sent for your safety, Professor.’ I did not understand what she meant. But a few steps out of the hallway and it dawned on me. She nodded as I looked at her. She was sent to keep others safe from me.

‘Really?’ I whispered. I felt flattered and offended at once.

‘He — Captain Harris — does what is best for the academy and what Mr Neumic expects of him.’ I noticed some form of hostility in her words. ‘Mr Neumic would want to keep an eye on you, of course. He has always wanted to place you under him,’ she whispered. ‘Now, he has plenty of reasons to.’

We walked down the corridor while making sure we were a few steps behind the escorts, our feet reasonably loud. ‘You do not like the man?’ I asked, my lips near her ears. Our narrowed eyes were locked onto the two escorts while we whispered among ourselves. We must have looked like a pair of connivers about to end their lives.

‘Not one bit, Professor,’ Ms Olberg said. Her face was scrunched in dislike and disapproval. ‘He is a tiring man. He always has been a very concerning sight. He was a professor here even when I was a student. For that long, he has kept his grasp on the academy and the department.’ She paused to see if we weren’t being heard and continued, ‘I did not notice back then, but after joining the Coats — that is what we call ourselves — I learnt of his thirst for influence and power.’ She clicked her tongue.

‘Do you remember when I said that I am assigned to guard your building as lectures progress?’ I gave a slight nod. ‘It was he who put me to it. Just so I could keep an eye on you.’ She bit her lip, nearly drawing blood. That look was rather ugly but familiar. Resentment. ‘He keeps me for odd chores, Professor. There is no worse disgrace to a soldier.’ Her fury could be felt crawling on the skin. It reverberated through the air and left me speechless. ‘I write his letters; keep watch outside hospital rooms at night; accept visitors sometimes. I complete my tasks without a word of dissent, but I am tired of the little man’s ways.’ She was the one being dishonoured, but I felt offended. In no manner should a person of such skill and capacity be left for trivial work. It was angering and baffling.

‘Why does he do that?’ I asked.

‘He is a bigot, Professor. The little man has little brains.’ That would have been funny if not for her daunting fury. ‘He judges us based on our lineage and colour. I am twenty-seven, Professor. I joined at the age of twenty-three, and in these four years, only once have I been promoted. While the pure-blooded, as he likes to call them, have been promoted thrice over. You should see their faces — dull; idiots every last one of them; undeserving but loyal.’ She took a breath to calm herself. ‘Sorry for being so blunt, Professor. I simply wish for you to not be caught in our politics, but I am afraid we are too late. You are a brilliant diamond for Neumic.’ She seemed to have abandoned any sort of respect for the man. ‘And the only thing that he hates about you is your appearance — the previous one. Black eyes, black hair, and a face that does not belong to an adult. He believes you may not be pure-blooded. I have seen that look before — the one he had when he met you in the hospital. That is the same look he had shown me and Nero. Talented but unworthy, his eyes spoke. But you are more than one of me or one of Nero. You are too special for him.’

‘Nero?’

‘You must have seen him. He is the man that is always with the Dean.’

I nearly exclaimed. ‘That black-haired menace?’

‘Yes, he has an unlikable glance.’

Now, I know his name, I thought as we reached the entrance of the hospital. The old lady was nowhere to be seen, and I made no effort to look for her. It was better she was not here. The old ones always commented on my hair. Long hair does not suit a man, they would say over the sound of their loose teeth. I wished they would study history to change their views, but alas, why would anyone listen to me?

‘Here,’ said one of the escorts, handing an umbrella each for me and Ms Olsberg. He and his colleague too had one for each. Quickly, they opened the umbrellas and jumped into the wild rain. Seeing it, Ms Olsberg sighed. She took a step forward, about to open her umbrella just to be stopped by me. ‘Yes?’ she asked, looking at the hand that held hers.

‘Well,’ I said with a smile that I could only call dazzling. ‘Shall we have a walk in the rain?’ The green-eyed woman looked at me with a quizzical expression. Her eyes seemed to question my sanity, but I simply sniggered. My legs extended artistically, and I stepped into the heavy rain without a raincoat or umbrella. And as my grey gaze turned towards the skies above, each drop that reached for me — be it from above or from around — halted in the air. It was as if a tarp was placed above and around me. After many years, I could feel an unshackled freedom. I could see without any weight on my nose. No more did I require a glass between me and the world. I was overjoyed. ‘Come,’ I said to the wide-eyed woman, ‘let us have a walk while they struggle.’

The woman smiled and followed me into the rain. Now, I am curious what Mr Bones will find out, I thought with a smile I hadn’t had in years. My heart beat with excitement. It is a secret no more. It was something called relief. I liked that newfound feeling. I will have to inform the students as well. Mutation can be a good topic to discuss. They did allocate a large sum of money for my research… Should I research it? Perhaps on plants? Many fun ideas entered my mind, and like a monarch, I sifted through each. I hummed a tune, pleased beyond belief. While they drenched in their umbrellas, we walked, in a garden of raindrops.

Announcement Because of the poor reception, the novel will be removed from Scribble Hub. If anyone wishes to continue reading further, please visit Royal Road. I wrote a few formulae on an old newspaper with my unharmed, left hand in an awkward fashion, hoping they may come of use in Property Derivative lectures. Not long after, I found myself searching through the wardrobe in boredom. There, I found the notes that I had sent with Ms Karla Varleii. They were untouched, proof of Ms Lasfield's long sleep. I read through them and made a few more notes a sentence here for clarification, a sentence there showcasing significance, and so on. It was nearly ten o'clock when the storm suddenly turned less violent. It was still dark, and the cold had seeped into the walls. It was then that a little quiver was heard, a slight groan. To my relief, it was Ms Lasfield. She had woken up. Hello,' I said, walking towards the girl that lay in bed. She rubbed her watery eyes once or twice before looking at my two colleagues and me. I gathered that sleepiness was yet to dissipate. How do you feel?' I asked, studying at her. Her eyes were less scary than usual. They seem to bear a softness never seen before. The feeble image of her aligned with the bloody figure of that day. The way she lay spewing blood only induced pity in me. No child should have to go through it. Such horror was best left for the likes of me and Ms Olsberg. Fine' the girl replied in a hoarse voice, watching me. I had come to understand why. Who am I, right? I was in a difficult spot. I was confounded as to how I should answer her. I couldn't simply say, I happen to be your boyish professor! How do you like my new face? Costly, it was! Do you remember me?' asked Ms Orchard, taking a seat beside her bed. The doctor from before?' she said in a quiet tone. I did not properly introduce myself, I believe,' saying so, Ms Orchard introduced herself. Not much needed to be said. Mr Dew's friend and a professor was enough, it seemed. A professor?' the girl asked, looking around for someone. I am here to speak about a few things with you.' The blue-eyed woman went on to ask a few questions. She looked for any faults in her memory which appeared intact. I hoped she would not ask about anything related to the event in depth, and the blonde professor clearly did not. She was cautious as not to open the hidden wounds. What is your favourite colour?' she asked. Ihaven't thought of it' Ms Orchard continued to ask questions. I noticed a pattern here. She seemed to be mixing trivial questions with some that bore importance. It was as if she was diverting her attention before carefully poking her psyche. It was fun to watch. Not a line twitched on Ms Orchard's face while the girl seemed pensive. It went on for about twenty minutes. I watched as the elegant woman deliberately created abrupt pauses while writing down what appeared to be gibberish. I noticed that she utilised the moment to observe the girl, her half-closed eyes always reading the girl's face. I believed she was putting thoughts in the child's mind, leaving her with ample time to process them. She seemed curious about where they would lead her head. Well done,' said Ms Orchard while standing out of her seat. She gestured me aside with a glance, and the instinctive Ms Olsberg pulled the girl into a one-sided conversation. Lile,' Ms Orchard said as we faced the door to the room. She seems fine.' That was an awful lot of secrecy for such news. Either way, my face lit up. That is wonderful, isn't it?' Yes, but,' I knew nothing after a but was ever a good thing she seems fine. I am not convinced. She requires further observation. I believe she is repressing her memories. It is a common occurrence in victims of any attack. To what degree they reveal their emotions is inversely related to their trauma.' She took a breath and grimly said, Lile, accidents and incidents affect a person in completely different ways. It is a wonderful result that she is not traumatised enough to shout in horror every time she wakes; it may not affect her social life much.' People rarely tend to approach the broken ones, she whispered. Those words broke my heart. It was a sad truth. If she ever confronts a thing that reminds her of the finer details the fear-inducing particles then she may act destructively.' Destructive, Ms Orchard?' Concern took hold of me. Some may scream, shout, and break whatever comes in sight. While some may cause themselves harm.' She did not need to elaborate further. I had a good idea. That would be the worst,' I whispered, my eyes glued to the girl that spoke normally with Ms Olsberg. Yes. Thankfully, she appears healthy. As long as she does not confront her fears, she should be safe although affected to some degree. I will speak with the Professor of Psychology and a few others. Neuroscience is a newly established field; I will speak with the Professor in charge.' Will she be fine?' Nothing you should worry about. Although she won't ever be her previous self which is to be expected of any event traumatic or not she should be fine in proper care.' She turned to me with some deliberation. Her voice softened. I once studied a woman. She was attacked by dogs. She was not hurt; they hadn't even bitten her. If I remember correctly, there was a pack of seven or nine stray dogs that surrounded her while she was on one of her leisurely walks. She recalled to me on one of our talks that she cried briefly after going home.' A glint shone in the lovely woman's eyes. You see, not a single man helped her. They watched as the dogs barked and the woman shrieked. She feared that they would tear and gouge upon her. Even the lady that was feeding them did not intervene until some elderly man shouted and cried.' Pathetic, I thought. I knew not the parties involved, but I was utterly disgusted. Cowards,' I muttered. Since then, the woman began fearing those beasts. She would turn pale at the barks from afar. With time, she has progressed significantly, but even now hounds draw the fear out of her. One can say it was a traumatic experience, but thankfully, it did not affect anything but her leisurely walks. Consider the same for your student. She may change but never entirely. Her fear may not be widely spread but rather highly concentrated on one particular point like the woman I mentioned. Consider it a good result. She may lose friends and interests, but' She will live a normal life.' Ms Orchard agreed. I looked out the window. The clouds still roared, and the rain still fell. Lightening was no less flashy while winds ran unruly. Do you believe,' I asked in uncertainty, that the first aid I performed might have affected her in some way?' Difficult to say, Lile.' She was honest. I was not particularly concerned about my involvement in the girl's pain. My actions were necessary to save her life, and I did not regret one bit of it. I will suggest keeping an eye on her. I believe you will do that?' Of course.' I perked up. I will keep her mind occupied with magic.' Ms Orchard nodded. Good.' Her serene eyes turned to the girl. You will do well with her.' I took that as a compliment. If I had a tail, it would have wagged frantically. I was praised by someone I should admire a wise senior in my profession. It is wonderful to be recognised, I thought, a little shy. I was a mage, one of the few ones. In that sense, I should be more responsible and less easy to be pleased. Yet somehow, I looked up to her. It was not only her. I looked up to more than a few professors I had crossed paths with. After our last conversation, I had come to realise her wisdom. I was lost in thought when I heard the girl's voice. Where is Professor?' I looked at her looking around and wondered if I should gently see myself out. But alas, it was too late. She noticed the gazes of my two colleagues that were directed towards me. And her eyes slowly searched me. She had noticed the similarities between my old and new faces. Her eyes turned from my face to my hands. The left one was fine while the right one was wrapped in a beautiful glove. Her eyes widened. Now, she did not even question her thought process. Her eyes were alternating between me, my colleagues, and the glove. Professor?' she whispered in an awkward, astounded and questioning tone. I too did not betray her expectations. I laughed awkwardly. Hello, Ms Lasfield. How do you do?' She was not ready for an explanation. *** The next few minutes were spent explaining to her my fragile situation. She accepted it on the account of my colleagues. It was surprising, but as a wonderful mage should, she abandoned all care and worry for me and asked curious questions. I was proud of that ruthlessness and a little hurt. But soon, I noticed her avoiding my gaze. I refrained from asking why. I was a handsome fellow, you see. Handsomest, I would say, but I am afraid the envious may disagree. Here,' I said, placing the notes on her bed as she sat with her back leaning against the wall. These will help you. Ask me anything you do not understand. Ms Orchard has informed me that you wish to be able to leave the hospital for our next lecture. Do not be in a hurry, I would say. Let your body mend; rest comes later.' She nodded, keeping her eyes on the notes. I noticed her sneaking glances at me. Is it because of my face or what happened in the basement? I did not know, but I believed, with time, she would come around. Yet I convinced myself, Because of my beauty, of course! I dare not question who could resist. We were speaking of the hunt to which she showed no particular aversion when the door was knocked. Ms Orchard opened it and, Professor,' she called. I looked back to find two black-uniformed guards in the hallway. Anxiety struck me, and Ms Olsberg too narrowed her eyes. I walked up to them and found that an urgent meeting had been called. In this storm?' I asked, astounded. It was fierce still. Yes, Professor,' the man in the doorway said. He was no one I knew, but he behaved courteously. We have been told to bring you with us. It concerns you greatly.' That did not sound promising. Who called it?' Ms Olsberg asked. The Dean.' The great one! I thought. Of course, I must leave. I wished to depart right away, but the sight of the girl deterred me. She had just woken up, and the words of Ms Orchard concerned me further. I will stay with her,' the blue-eyed, blonde woman said to my delight. I have yet to study her further.' Thank you,' I said and took the coat that Ms Parkinson had brought for me. I was adorned in a snowy, white tailcoat with a black cravat. I had to clean my shoes, but they appeared fairly fine. I looked a fine gentle I sighed. Not a gentleman; I have never looked like a fine gentleman. It used to be a young man, and now a I shan't even say. The only feature about my face that did not seem womanly was the scar under my eye, but even such a trivial thing wasn't earned. I knew little about it, but I wondered if I should forge a false yet valiant story around it. The beast clawed me? No, far too unbelievable. I would be dead if it did. I gave up the idea. Once again, I looked in the mirror and felt a little off. Ah,' I exclaimed. My glasses.' And it struck me like lightning. Even without glasses, I could see. What witchery is this? I was baffled. I truly did not know how to interpret it. Mutation has returned my eyesight? This created so many possibilities and so many scenarios worth exploring. I can write a paper on this! Goodness, I was a genius! Of course, what a brilliant mind! I spared no moment to praise myself; none should. I was happy about ridding myself of spectacles, but above all, I was happy that something good had come out of my new appearance. Ms Olsberg dutifully returned my spectacle case which I placed in my inner pocket. I had no use for it, and I feared I may have wasted the academy's funds. Such thoughts were concerning but they did not erase my quivering smile. While Ms Orchard wished me well in the doorway, as I was about to leave, I heard a murmur behind me. Turning around, I found Ms Lasfield who had somewhat come to terms with my new appearance. She was saying something to me, her eyes still lifeless. Thank you, she says,' replied Ms Olsberg, who checked herself in the mirror and followed behind me. I replied with a joyous and curt welcome and left alongside my two escorts and Ms Olsberg. When I said she could wait, she whispered in my ears, making sure no one else heard, I was not sent for your safety, Professor.' I did not understand what she meant. But a few steps out of the hallway and it dawned on me. She nodded as I looked at her. She was sent to keep others safe from me. Really?' I whispered. I felt flattered and offended at once. He Captain Harris does what is best for the academy and what Mr Neumic expects of him.' I noticed some form of hostility in her words. Mr Neumic would want to keep an eye on you, of course. He has always wanted to place you under him,' she whispered. Now, he has plenty of reasons to.' We walked down the corridor while making sure we were a few steps behind the escorts, our feet reasonably loud. You do not like the man?' I asked, my lips near her ears. Our narrowed eyes were locked onto the two escorts while we whispered among ourselves. We must have looked like a pair of connivers about to end their lives. Not one bit, Professor,' Ms Olberg said. Her face was scrunched in dislike and disapproval. He is a tiring man. He always has been a very concerning sight. He was a professor here even when I was a student. For that long, he has kept his grasp on the academy and the department.' She paused to see if we weren't being heard and continued, I did not notice back then, but after joining the Coats that is what we call ourselves I learnt of his thirst for influence and power.' She clicked her tongue. Do you remember when I said that I am assigned to guard your building as lectures progress?' I gave a slight nod. It was he who put me to it. Just so I could keep an eye on you.' She bit her lip, nearly drawing blood. That look was rather ugly but familiar. Resentment. He keeps me for odd chores, Professor. There is no worse disgrace to a soldier.' Her fury could be felt crawling on the skin. It reverberated through the air and left me speechless. I write his letters; keep watch outside hospital rooms at night; accept visitors sometimes. I complete my tasks without a word of dissent, but I am tired of the little man's ways.' She was the one being dishonoured, but I felt offended. In no manner should a person of such skill and capacity be left for trivial work. It was angering and baffling. Why does he do that?' I asked. He is a bigot, Professor. The little man has little brains.' That would have been funny if not for her daunting fury. He judges us based on our lineage and colour. I am twenty-seven, Professor. I joined at the age of twenty-three, and in these four years, only once have I been promoted. While the pure-blooded, as he likes to call them, have been promoted thrice over. You should see their faces dull; idiots every last one of them; undeserving but loyal.' She took a breath to calm herself. Sorry for being so blunt, Professor. I simply wish for you to not be caught in our politics, but I am afraid we are too late. You are a brilliant diamond for Neumic.' She seemed to have abandoned any sort of respect for the man. And the only thing that he hates about you is your appearance the previous one. Black eyes, black hair, and a face that does not belong to an adult. He believes you may not be pure-blooded. I have seen that look before the one he had when he met you in the hospital. That is the same look he had shown me and Nero. Talented but unworthy, his eyes spoke. But you are more than one of me or one of Nero. You are too special for him.' Nero?' You must have seen him. He is the man that is always with the Dean.' I nearly exclaimed. That black-haired menace?' Yes, he has an unlikable glance.' Now, I know his name, I thought as we reached the entrance of the hospital. The old lady was nowhere to be seen, and I made no effort to look for her. It was better she was not here. The old ones always commented on my hair. Long hair does not suit a man, they would say over the sound of their loose teeth. I wished they would study history to change their views, but alas, why would anyone listen to me? Here,' said one of the escorts, handing an umbrella each for me and Ms Olsberg. He and his colleague too had one for each. Quickly, they opened the umbrellas and jumped into the wild rain. Seeing it, Ms Olsberg sighed. She took a step forward, about to open her umbrella just to be stopped by me. Yes?' she asked, looking at the hand that held hers. Well,' I said with a smile that I could only call dazzling. Shall we have a walk in the rain?' The green-eyed woman looked at me with a quizzical expression. Her eyes seemed to question my sanity, but I simply sniggered. My legs extended artistically, and I stepped into the heavy rain without a raincoat or umbrella. And as my grey gaze turned towards the skies above, each drop that reached for me be it from above or from around halted in the air. It was as if a tarp was placed above and around me. After many years, I could feel an unshackled freedom. I could see without any weight on my nose. No more did I require a glass between me and the world. I was overjoyed. Come,' I said to the wide-eyed woman, let us have a walk while they struggle.' The woman smiled and followed me into the rain. Now, I am curious what Mr Bones will find out, I thought with a smile I hadn't had in years. My heart beat with excitement. It is a secret no more. It was something called relief. I liked that newfound feeling. I will have to inform the students as well. Mutation can be a good topic to discuss. They did allocate a large sum of money for my research Should I research it? Perhaps on plants? Many fun ideas entered my mind, and like a monarch, I sifted through each. I hummed a tune, pleased beyond belief. While they drenched in their umbrellas, we walked, in a garden of raindrops.