Chapter Text
It had been a couple of days since Marielle had stepped out of the coffin. Those days had been spent drifting in and out of consciousness as she recovered.
She had spent the past several days drifting in and out of consciousness, then recovering with strict bedrest. She felt a lot better, though, and was now allowed to walk around with strict orders not to “overdo it.”
She followed “Headmage” Crowley through the winding halls of the school to the “Mirror Chamber.” Despite the respect the position apparently demanded, Marielle didn’t like the Headmage, he was irresponsible and it was clear the rest of the staff didn’t respect him either.
Her eyes tracked the activity around her as Marielle walked through the halls. All the students were much older than herself (except for one with black and magenta hair) and they talked and laughed around her in groups. Most ignored her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched. No matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find the source so she brushed it off for now.
“So…” Headmage Crowley’s voice breaks Marielle out of her thoughts, his voice loud enough for Marielle to hear over what felt like millions of conversations around her. Marielle noticed the pause as Crowley looked back at her expectantly. Why was he looking at her like that?
“Pardon?” Marielle realizes she’d zoned out.
“I asked for your name. It appears I never asked.” Crowley replies as he turns a corner into a quieter hallway leading to a large double wooden door.
Marielle didn’t reply right away. She suspected that the Headmage was told her name before retrieving her, and that he’d just forgotten. Which was normal, she supposed. Nobody ever remembered her name.
“It’s…” She hesitated. “Marielle. Marielle Fournier.” She came to a stop with the Headmage outside the doors.
The Headmage paused, “Ma.. Mahr-what?”
“Marielle.” She repeated, watching the Headmage. What a strange reaction. It was a common name, and was easy to pronounce, too. There was no reason to have such trouble saying it.
“How peculiar, I’ve never heard that name before. How do you pronounce it again?”
“Just… call me Elle, then, if that’s easier.” Marielle adjusted the uniform she’d been given. Professor Crewel had explained that it was the standard uniform, different from ceremonial robes everyone had been wearing when she… woke up. It had taken her a truly embarrassing amount of time to properly button the shirt, and Professor Crewel had to tie the striped tie that came with it. It was humiliating, especially since she wasn’t a baby.
“Right then, Elle! I assume Professor Crewel’s told you what to expect.” When Marielle nods, Crowley continues speaking “Good, good. Let us enter, then.”
Crowley opened the door with the dramatic flair that Marielle was coming to expect from him. Now that Marielle wasn’t bleeding out, she could really appreciate just how grand the ceremonial room was.
For starters, the room was absolutely massive. The ceiling stretched high and the walls were covered with huge windows, reminding her of a church. An elegant chandelier hung in the center of the ceiling, connected to the walls of the room with chains of pearls. In the middle of the room, a mirror floated above a fountain filled with a strange green liquid. It flowed almost like water, but a bit more viscous.
Marielle squinted but couldn’t spot anything holding the mirror up. Odd. The coffins had floated too. Marielle decided to stop thinking about that.
“~~~~~~ to the Mirror.” The headmage voice came from beside her, a hand absentmindedly resting on her shoulder. His hand rested on her shoulder. How long had it been since someone’s touched her so casually?
Marielle walked towards the Mirror, subtly pushing the Headmage’s hand off of her shoulder. The Mirror was dark and had an intricate trim, but she couldn’t see her reflection in it. Maybe it was too dirty?
Marielle in place when flinched then froze in place as a face appeared in the glass- though it was more of a mask, really, than a face.
“State your name.” The mask in the Mirror commanded. Professor Crewel had mentioned something about a Dark Mirror, hadn’t he?
“Marielle Fournier.” Marielle felt like she was sealing her fate, but couldn’t think of anything else she could say.
“The nature of your soul,” The Mirror pauses for a long moment. “Is unclear to me.”
Headmage Crowley was surprised by the answer the Mirror gave, if the sound of his voice was anything to go by.
“I sense no magical power in this one. Soundless. Colourless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant. Therefore no dorm would be appropriate.” The words were no surprise to Marielle. That’s what everyone saw her as, right? Void of emotion. Just a servant to boss around and safely take out emotions on.. Not even a real person. (Except to him, but he wasn’t around anymore, was he?)
The Headmage’s footsteps echoed in the almost empty room, approaching Marielle. “Are you suggesting the black carriage went to receive a person who cannot even use magic? But that is absurd! Impossible!”
The Headmage stopped, sighed, and shook his head. “This is ridiculous. What an unfortunate turn of events. Surely you understand that I cannot have you attending Night Raven College when you don’t have magic.”
“I can go home?”
“You can. Worry not, dear Elle. The Dark Mirror will see you home.” The Headmage puts his hand on her back and pushes her towards the fountain.
“O Dark Mirror! Return this soul where it belongs!”
Marielle held her breath.
The silence was loud.
Was it supposed to take so long?
“There is no such place.” What? What does it mean by that? Marielle’s home definitely existed. Her shared bunk, her job as a cremtech, Louis’s portrait. There was no way everything was gone. “There is no place in this world where this soul belongs. None.”
“How can that be? Oh my, hasn’t this day been a series of impossible phenomena.” Headmage Crowley looked near crocodile tears at the declaration.
The Mirror disappeared, and Marielle felt tears well up in her own eyes.
She was alone, stuck with a bunch of weird old people, with no way home. To top it all off, even if she could get home, there’d be no one waiting for her. Not anymore.
“This has never happened before. I must confess, I am simply at something of a loss.” The man was quiet for a moment. Marielle looks over her shoulder to watch him mutter to himself under his breath. What a strange place.
Crowley sighs before continuing, “This is truly a strange predictament… I simply cannot have someone with no magic attend Night Raven College. Yet as an educator, I cannot send someone as young as you out on the street without a cent to their name. Truly my grace is boundless.”
The silence between Crowley and Marielle stretches for several moments, awkward and tense as the Headmage considers what to do about Marielle’s situation. As the silence continues, Marielle glances around before spotting someone - on the ceiling. How’d they get up there?
They had short black hair with a magenta streak. A student, if their uniform was anything to go by. Their ruby eyes gazed down at Marielle as they smiled wide enough to show canines a bit too sharp. They waved, then disappeared in the blink of an eye. Did this school have ghosts?
“Ah! There is a vacant building on campus. In fact, it used to be an old dorm. With a good cleaning, it should be habitable enough for you to live in while we figure a way to send you back to your homeland! Oh, how generous I am.” Crowley’s voice broke through Marielle’s thoughts.
“It is an older building, so it has… let’s just say a lot of character.” That didn’t sound like the worst idea. Marielle could guarantee she’d slept in a lot worse places than an old, empty building. Shelter was shelter.
“Shall we go?” Crowley asks, looking at Marielle expectantly.
“Sure.” Marielle replies. It couldn’t be that bad, right?