Chapter Text
As soon as Marielle opened her eyes, she realized something was wrong. If the feeling of silk underneath her hand was anything to go by, she wasn’t on the beach anymore. She was, instead, in a box of some sort.
Marielle brought her one good hand and - ignoring the ache in her other hand - felt around. She recognised the silk walls, the odd angles. The “box” was a coffin. Wonderful. Exactly what she needed, to be presumed dead.
She couldn’t see anything, but she could hear muffled voices. Marielle strained her ears to try to listen, but ultimately gave up when all she could make out was gibberish.
A sudden blinding light stunned Marielle. Blinking rapidly she slowly tried to adjust to the bright lights coming from outside the now opened casket. It took longer, much longer, than Marielle was used to to adjust to the brightness of the room. Long enough for the blurry images to change in front of her.
Someone was approaching her. She had to move.
She tried, but everything was blurry, her hand really hurt, and her legs were shaking under her weight. Why was she shaking – She was supposed to be strong.
Marielle barely made it one step out of the coffin before she collapsed.
~~~
When Marielle awoke, there was silk underneath her once more. Marielle’s hand curled into the sheets underneath her. A bed. She was in bed. Why was she in bed? She had shit to do.
Marielle slowly opened her eyes, gathering energy to sit up, but something –someone– put a hand on her chest, holding her down.
“Stay, Pup. You need to rest.”
She blinked slowly up at the man the voice belonged to. He seemed to be in his late twenties or early thirties, with white and black hair parted to the side. His grey eyes studied her, before his gaze came to rest on her injured hand.
Marielle slowly turned her head to look at her injured hand, assessing the bandages covering the injuries she had sustained before arriving in this… place. The injuries that had made her a walking target. That made her weak, unable to properly defend herself.
She sneered unconsciously, but the effect was undercut by the yawn that overtook her.
Speaking of targets…
“Where am I?” Marielle spoke, eyes quickly darting back over to the unknown man. “And who are you?”
“I’m Professor Crewel. I’m the potionology teacher here at Night Raven College, which is where you are.” The man- Professor Crewel- replied.
“Night Raven College..?” She asked, her voice heavy with sleep, but still full of suspicion.
“Yes.” The professor confirms with a nod. “Night Raven College is a prestigious arcane academy, only open to those the Dark Mirror deems to have exceptional magical abilities.” The professor explained, hearing the confusion in her voice.
Marielle squinted, and he softened. The hand on her chest lifted, and brushed her hair out of her eyes.
“Now rest, Pup. We can sort this out later.”
She knew she shouldn’t lower her guard and sleep in front of a potential threat, but she was just so tired -Not just physically, but also mentally- and the bed was so comfortable- much more comfortable than the hard ground she had gotten used to sleeping on.
Deciding that she was too tired to deal with this anymore, her eyes finally drifted shut one more.