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In the early morning hours, she prays in the cathedral. No one is there save for her and the Goddess. No one is there to see her clasping her trembling hands together. No one is there to hear her recite her prayers, her desperate pleas, spoken so softly that even the Goddess herself has to strain to hear her. No one is there. No one is supposed to be there. There is a beautiful voice coming from the cathedral one morning. No one is supposed to be there. For a brief and fleeting moment, she thinks that such a beautiful voice must be coming from the Goddess, singing one of her own hymns. It is operatic and it is like nothing Marianne has ever heard before. She leaves, not wanting to intrude, but the Goddess's voice remains an echo in her head until she hears it once more.
"Hey! It's Marianne, right?"
The echo brings her out of her reverie and back into the dining hall. That sounded just like...no, it couldn't be.
She realizes she needs to respond. "Um, yes. That's me."
She recognizes the student primarily from Hilda's gossip. Long, flowing brunette hair, and a hat carefully perched on top of it. Dorothea Arnault, member of the Black Eagles.
Dorothea takes the vacant seat next to her. (Hilda was off yelling at Claude about something or other. Marianne was alone at her table.) "Oh, this seat wasn't taken, was it?"
Marianne shakes her head. She usually has trouble making eye contact, but it's even harder now. With each word Dorothea says, Marianne becomes more and more certain that that was the beautiful voice she heard in the cathedral a few days ago. The voice that had echoed in her head ever since. Of course it wasn't the Goddess. It was a fellow student. A peer. A striking young woman sitting right next to her.
"Ugh, where are my manners? I'm so sorry. I'm Dorothea Arnault, from the Black Eagles," she says, extending her upturned palm with her fingers slightly curled. "It's a pleasure to formally meet you, Marianne."
Marianne knows that she is supposed to take that hand for a polite shake, and she does, though she still has yet to meet Dorothea's eyes. Why was this taking place? What possible reason could someone like Dorothea have to talk to someone like Marianne? "Likewise," she quietly replies.
A slight grin alights on Dorothea's face. "Oh my, I'm glad I had the idea to talk to you," she says, pulling her hand back. "You haven't seen the choir schedule for St. Cethleann Day yet, have you?"
Marianne had not, but her eyes go wide as she fills in the gaps. "We must have been selected to sing together," she says.
Dorothea responds with a nod. "That's right. I've been practicing a little bit, but I figured it was probably a good idea to talk to my partner." She offers Marianne an encouraging smile. "I'm glad I did. It would have been so awful to have that sprung on you with no warning."
Finally, Marianne meets her eyes and finds that they're beautiful. A verdant green. Her face flushes slightly and Dorothea raises an eyebrow. Marianne turns away again. "Yes, thank you for telling me."
"Of course! To tell you the truth, I'm quite excited about it," Dorothea enthuses. Marianne does not match her enthusiasm. She continues, twirling a restless finger through a strand of her hair, "I was actually hoping I could get to know you a little bit better in the next few days. It won't do us any good if we're still strangers by the time the big day comes around."
Wait, what? Here was the source of that beautiful voice, the voice that had fooled Marianne into believing it could have been the Goddess, with her beautiful eyes and beautiful hair, sitting right next to her, offering to spend time with her. Surely, Marianne shouldn't be reading too much into this, right? It was only chance that their lots had been drawn for the St. Cethleann day choir...or had it been fate? Dorothea was just extending that invitation because Marianne had been drawn as her partner, right? Surely, she would be doing the same thing for anyone else...right?
"Um, Marianne?" Oh. Dorothea was expecting a response.
Marianne didn't want to inconvenience Dorothea, or risk bringing her misfortune, but...Dorothea did have a point. Declining this invitation would make things awkward, and the choir performance would end up being more unbearable than it was already going to be. "Sorry. Yes, that's fine."
Dorothea claps her hands together. "Awesome! Shall we meet at the stables tomorrow afternoon, then? I see you helping out there all the time and I'd love to lend an extra hand!"
The thought of Dorothea having seen and recognized her before this meeting makes the back of Marianne's neck itch. "S-sure," she stammers out. "I'll see you then."
When Dorothea arrives at the stables the next day, with her hair tied back and her sleeves rolled up, she is surprised to find that there is already someone else working with Marianne. Auburn hair, cropped short...it must be Leonie, one of Marianne's classmates in the Golden Deer.
Leonie is in the middle of cleaning out the stables as Marianne sits next to a foal, holding his leg. Leonie is the first to notice Dorothea's approach. "Hey, you must be Dorothea. Marianne told me you were gonna help us out today."
Dorothea smiles. "That's right, although I didn't know we were going to have a third with us."
Leonie leans on her shovel and squints at Dorothea. "What, is this supposed to be a date or something?"
Bait taken. As soon as Leonie makes that comment, Dorothea's eyes flit towards Marianne, who had turned a deeper shade of red than the previous day, when their eyes had met. Dorothea cracks another smile and waves Leonie's comment off. "Nonsense, just helping out a friend! You'll have to tell me what to do, though. I'm afraid I don't have much experience with stuff like this."
With a piece of cloth, Leonie wipes some sweat from her brow and tilts her head towards Marianne. "I'm almost done cleaning, but I think Marianne would appreciate some help patching up that foal."
"Patching up?" Dorothea suddenly notices the splint around one of the young horse's hind legs. She walks over and sits next to Marianne. "Goodness, what happened?"
Marianne looks softly down at the foal, with one of the most tender expressions Dorothea had ever seen. "I didn't see it happen, but he told me that it twisted when he was running around the other day. He probably stepped and turned the wrong way, just like we do sometimes."
Did she just say that this baby horse had told her something? Before Dorothea can ask about it, Leonie chimes in. "She's just like this, Dorothea. She spends so much time with animals that she thinks she can talk to them." She leans the shovel against the wall and dusts off her hands. "I can't really doubt her, though."
Well, alright. Dorothea isn't going to doubt her, either. "Did you make that splint yourself?"
Marianne nods. "It's nothing too special. It's just meant to keep it steady while I use my magic, so it doesn't heal wrong."
At that, Dorothea notices a soft, white glow emanating from Marianne's hands. Had she been healing this entire time? Is it really that easy?
"That's white magic, right?" Dorothea asks, although she knows the answer.
"Mm. White magic is associated with faith and devotion, and black magic with reason and knowledge." Her hands stop glowing, and she carefully removes the splint. "There. All better now." She smiles, and it's remarkably radiant.
"Magic is so beyond me," Leonie comments, starting to return things in the stable to the way they were.
"White magic has always been beyond me," Dorothea adds. She watches Marianne help the foal to his feet, and it looks perfectly normal. Not at all like it couldn't stand up just a few minutes ago. "I've never been very religious, so I just gravitated towards black magic. It was easier to understand."
Marianne watches the foal run around, testing his healed leg. She is still radiant. "Oh, it's not about religion at all. It's simply about finding something to believe in." She turns to Dorothea and manages to make eye contact with her for the second time. "For me, it just so happens to be the Goddess. For you, it might be something else."
"Are you sure about this, Dorothea?"
"It'll be fine, Mari! And it'll definitely be way better than trying to sing with no formal vocal practice."
The two young women sit in Professor Manuela Casagranda's office, which doubles as the Garreg Mach infirmary. No students or staff are injured at the moment, so it is being used as an impromptu classroom for an impromptu vocal coach.
As it happened, Manuela was late to a class that she was teaching in her own office. She bursts through the door, her clothes a bit disheveled. "Sorry, you two! Your favorite teacher forgot what day it was."
Dorothea knows that this is par for the course, and she laughs. "Oh, Professor Manuela, it's fine. We haven't been here long." They had been there for twenty-six minutes. "Thank you again for agreeing to this, by the way."
"Oh, it's nothing, nothing at all! I think it's rather a marvelous idea, actually. Getting an extra bit of help from an expert! I can't think of any better way to make sure our St. Cethleann Day celebrations are the best they can be." She turns to Marianne. "And it's Marianne, yes? I remember you from a few of my lectures."
Marianne nods, sitting up a bit straighter. "Yes, that's me. Thank you again for agreeing to this on such short notice."
"P'shaw," Manuela dismisses, flapping one of her hands. "Really! It's nothing. I've worked with Miss Dorothea here several times already, and I certainly don't mind doing it again. Although this is the first time she's brought one of her lady friends along!"
Dorothea and Marianne shoot glances at each other. She certainly meant just friends who happened to be ladies, didn't she?
Manuela keeps talking. "Now, Miss Marianne, this is your first time singing in a formal setting, right?"
Marianne nods again. Manuela continues. "Alright, well, we'll start with a crash course in the basics. Your best singing comes from your diaphragm, not your throat, so make sure it's coming from here," she vocalizes a deep, smooth note as she holds her torso, "rather than here," she vocalizes a shrill, uneven note, now. "On that note," she giggles, "I should mention that louder isn't always better. The acoustics of the cathedral are divine--no pun intended--so you don't have to worry about being heard. The Goddess will carry your voice!"
After a moment, Marianne raises a hand. "Should I...be taking notes on this?"
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Practice makes perfect, as they say! Now, if you don't mind, give me your best ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
On St. Cethleann Day, the festivities go off without a hitch. The choir performance receives a standing ovation. Dorothea and Marianne share a tight embrace under the eyes of the Goddess, tears rolling down both of their cheeks.
Weeks later, in the infirmary, Dorothea finds Marianne. She is stretched out on one of the tables, her leg in a very similar splint to the one she had fashioned for the foal about a month prior.
"Hey, Mari. I, uh, heard what happened."
Marianne allows a weak laugh to escape her. "It's almost the exact same thing that happened to that little foal. I just...stepped and turned wrong."
"Well, in any case, I'm glad you weren't hurt any worse."
"Mm." There is a moment of quiet. "Have you seen Professor Manuela?"
Dorothea holds her hands behind her back. "About that...she actually sent me. I've been taking some non-singing lessons with her lately. As it turns out, you're my first real healing practice."
Marianne's eyes momentarily go wide. "R-really? I thought you said you only used black magic."
Dorothea pulls up a chair to Marianne's side and holds a pair of glowing hands over her leg. She finds her eyes and smiles, a now-familiar warmth in her heart. "Let's just say I found something to believe in."