[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190802/c0d4db332b9c446f202b93808c9fb560.png[/img][/center]

[sup][center]mentions: [@Prosaic][/center][/sup]

[hr]

[center][b][color=FF92FA]Riegan Family Household: Hamburg, Germany[/color][/b][/center]

From the moment she woke up, Sophia von Riegan could feel a certain anticipation in the air. Today was [i]the[/i] day. A certain heaviness in her heart kept her in bed for just a few more minutes; was she truly ready to leave Germany? For some American, middle-of-nowhere school? Of course, it wasn't as if she had a choice in the matter. The invitation to Marchand sealed her fate the moment it arrived. Within the hour, her parents had already scheduled the flight. Not that she blamed them, though--the Marchand Academy of Sorcery presented a unique opportunity to her. That unique opportunity was one she had heard a hundred times from her parents, who insisted on reminding her each chance they got. In truth, the matter was quite exhausting.

Her last few moments of rest were interrupted by the loud [i]slam[/i] of her door opening, followed by the ever-recognizable footsteps of her mother. [color=ed145b]"Sophia! Wake up! You must get ready. Your flight leaves in just a few hours."[/color]

[color=FF92FA]"Yes, Mother,"[/color] she mumbled, dragging herself out of bed. All her belongings were packed the night before, including a laptop and an [i]extensive[/i] collection of colored gel pens. By the time she'd showered and walked downstairs for breakfast, her bags had been placed by the door. It was as if her family [i]wished[/i] for her to leave. The eager eyes of her parents met hers as she sat at the table, though silence reined for a few moments.

[color=fff79a]"Are you excited, dear?"[/color] her father asked, taking a bite of scrambled eggs. The question was an unfair one: saying no would change nothing, and saying yes would just make them feel better about it all.

[color=FF92FA]"Yes, I am, Father."[/color] She thanked the maid who brought her food, though she was reluctant to touch it. Anxiety clawed at her stomach; how could she possibly eat?

[color=ed145b]"Now, your father and I don't need to remind you of the responsibility you have,"[/color] her mother said, smiling. [color=ed145b]"Marchand will house the heirs of some of the most powerful magical families on Earth. It is critical that you befriend them, or are at least liked by them. But more importantly, you must [i]compete[/i] with them."[/color]

Sophia could barely contain an eye roll.

[color=fff79a]"Your mother is right, Sophia. It took a [i]war[/i] for the Riegans to gain any sort of renown. It's up to you to see it through."[/color] Her father continued to eat, though it was as if he was in a rush.

[color=FF92FA]"You...you have my word, Father."[/color]

[hr]

[center][b][color=FF92FA]Marchand Academy of Sorcery[/color][/b][/center]

A full day of flying and many hours of bus riding later, Sophia stood before the Marchand Academy of Sorcery. The building was enormous, intimidatingly so, to the point that she hesitated to even enter. But, after a few moments of gawking, all she could do was walk inside, her bags trailing behind her. After a brief encounter with a less-than-enthusiastic receptionist, she walked up the stairs to the common room with several papers tucked under her arm. Before she opened the door, however, she took a moment to compose herself: she straightened out her skirt, tucked her hair into place, and fixed a bit of smudged eyeliner. She ought to look presentable, no?

After struggling with the door for a moment, Sophia stepped inside, somewhat surprised at the lackluster furniture. It was certainly a far cry from her family's home, at least. And yet, she couldn't help but find it oddly charming. Such beautiful architecture met with a violently clashing interior; she figured it suited a room intended for students to relax in. Glancing around, she could see a group of students had arrived before her, and had already helped themselves to a buffet table. Sophia could still feel the grip of anxiety, but she'd barely eaten since yesterday. She picked a few pancakes off the table, along with a glass of water, before wandering over to where the students were finding their seats. One boy, seated by himself, stood out to her; he seemed friendly enough, at least. She quietly sat next to him, offering a small smile.