Chapter Text
"When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one!"
The night has been chaotic and painfully long—you’re desperate for it to only be a dream. You'll wake up in your own bed, chuckle at the silly things your brain comes up with, then roll over and fall back asleep. But the longer you stare at the enigmatic headmage as he strolls along the library shelves and taps the spines of books as he goes, the deeper it sinks in that you're not in a dream and waking up will not save you from this madness.
All of the other students have been dismissed to their dorms, but since there is no place in this world where you belong, as the Dark Mirror put it, you've found yourself in the library while Headmage Crowley asks one question after another. He's paged through books and maps for several hours, using your answers as a guide, to no avail. He finally sighs and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Just as I suspected. Nothing," he says. "Your homeland is not listed on any map from any point in history."
You stifle a groan as you slouch in your chair.
"Now, are you quite sure you come from such a place? It wasn't some sort of lie or jape? Because, if so, the only explanation is you've come from another planet."
Your face goes slack at the suggestion. The idea is so unbelievable you don't know how to respond.
"Or perhaps you were summoned here from another dimension?"
"Another planet?! Another dimension?!" you choke.
"Show me everything you brought here with you," Crowley says.
You pat your ceremonial robe to determine if it has pockets. You feel past the fabric and search your clothes underneath for any sign of personal possessions. When your fingers find skin, you realize you're not wearing anything under your robes.
"Do you have some form of identification, a driver's license? Or even... a shoe? You do seem a tad bit... empty-handed," Crowley says as he looks you over.
You peek at your bare feet as you extend them in front of you. The part of you that hopes this is a dream never realized you've been walking around barefoot the entire time. You've stumbled from one thing to the next since you got here.
"As you stated, I've got nothing. No wallet, no phone. Nothing," you say.
"Well, this is quite the predicament." Crowley taps his chin as he stares at the floor. "I cannot have someone with no aptitude for magic bumbling around my magic academy."
A small sound of protest escapes you as you stare at your feet.
"And yet, as an educator, I am loath to expel a young person without a cent to their name..."
He smiles as he glances at you.
"Truly, my grace is boundless."
You open your mouth to remind him hasn't done anything yet when he holds up a gloved finger.
"Ah! There is a vacant building on campus. In fact, it was used as a dorm a long time ago. With proper cleaning, it should be habitable enough. Out of the profound kindness of my heart, I will allow you to live there for the time being. And in the meantime, we will investigate other ways to send you home."
He puffs his chest out, placing his hands on his narrow hips. You can feel his pride from where you sit, though you're confused as to the source of his satisfaction. He certainly isn't instilling any confidence in you.
"Dear me, but I am a gracious man indeed! A model educator, one might say. Well then, I shall take you to your dorm straight away. It is an older building, but it has plenty of... character, one might say."
You stand from your table and follow after him as he turns heel. His fancy indigo and black dress shoes click on the stone floor as you wind through the college's impressive halls. After several minutes, you clear your throat and the headmage peers at you through his beaked mask. Its small, circular eyes glow yellow.
"I don't have anything...," you say. "Just these robes. Remember?"
The conversation had been less than ten minutes ago—you hope he remembers.
"Ah yes. We can find you something, most assuredly," he says.
He looks you up and down, then slows to a stop as he taps his cane on the floor. For the first time, Crowley truly looks at you instead of simply dealing with you. He puts his hand to his chin and hums in thought while he tilts his head from side to side.
"This is a school for young men," he says after some consideration.
You realize your predicament. It wasn't obvious during orientation, but all the students must have been male. With everyone draped in such heavy, ornate robes, it was impossible to tell who anyone was. You think back over the few faces you saw during the disarray and furrow your brow.
"Everyone at orientation was... a guy? Really?" you ask.
"I see your point," Crowley says.
You hadn't intended on making a point, but there had been so many gorgeous faces in the crowd that gender seemed meaningless at Night Raven College.
"Nobody will suspect your true nature with an ounce of discretion," Crowley says.
"My true nature," you repeat.
"You see, this is a school for young men," Crowley says. "Oh my, how magnanimous I am."
With that, he clicks the end of his cane against his shoe's heel and resumes his stroll down the quiet hallway. You watch him go for several seconds, flabbergasted at the conversation you just had. The meaning was clear enough: Night Raven College is an all-men's school. No women allowed. If you remain on campus, you’ll have to blend in and not give yourself away as a young woman.
The most astonishing part is that he thinks he's done anything of value.