The Unfortunate Maris (1) The Tragedy

"Maris, I need you to go to the market," my mother said, handing me a small purse of coins. "We're out of bread, and I need a few other things for dinner."

I took the purse, nodding. "Of course, Mother. I'll be back soon."

My two little sisters, Mira and Lila, perked up at the mention of the market. "Can we come with you, Maris?" Mira asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

"No, you can't," my mother said firmly. "It's getting late, and I need you both to stay here and help me with the house."

"But, Mother," Lila protested, her lower lip quivering, "we'll be good. We promise!"

"No," my mother repeated, her tone final. "It's not safe for you to be out after dark. Now go and help your father in the shop."

The girls pouted but didn't argue further. They knew better than to test our mother's patience.

My father appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Now, now," he said gently, placing a hand on my mother's shoulder. "No need to get so angry with the children. They're just eager to help."

My mother sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I know, but they need to understand that some things aren't meant for them just yet."

Father nodded, then turned to me. "Be careful out there, Maris. And don't take too long. Dinner won't make itself."

I smiled at him, feeling a warmth in my chest. "I won't, Father. I'll be back before you know it."

With that, I stepped out of the house and made my way to the market, the sun beginning its descent and casting a warm, golden hue over the town. The air was filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and the lively chatter of vendors and customers haggling over prices. My family wasn't wealthy, but we had enough to live comfortably. My parents were hardworking merchants, running a medium-sized shop that sold various goods. Our family of five was close-knit, with my two little sisters bringing joy and laughter into our home.

When my hint of talent in magic appeared two years ago, the whole family rejoiced as if they got a barrel of gold. But it's fine. Even if I have to work my bones, especially my brains, to get a hold of magic and understand it, as long as I can make them happy, I can do anything.

I approached the bakery, the scent of warm bread wafting through the air. My mother had asked me to pick up some bread and a few other things for dinner. I often helped out with these errands, enjoying the brief escape from my studies at the university. As I selected the loaves, I couldn't help but think about how lucky I was to have such a loving family. We might not have been nobles, but we had each other, and that was enough.

The shopkeeper handed me the bread with a smile, and I made my way back home, the streets growing quieter as evening approached. The thought of dinner with my family, the warmth of our home, and the sound of my sisters' laughter filled me with a sense of contentment. Little did I know that this peaceful moment was about to be shattered.

As I neared our house, something felt off. The door was slightly ajar, and an eerie silence hung in the air. My heart raced as I pushed the door open, calling out to my family. "Mother? Father? I'm back!"

There was no response.

The sight that greeted me was a nightmare.

"M-Mother...? F-Father?"

Blood stained the wooden floor, and the once-cozy living room was in disarray. My parents lay motionless, their bodies brutally savaged. My two little sisters were nowhere to be seen, but the small pool of blood near their toys told me all I needed to know. My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed to the floor, a scream of horror and anguish escaping my lips. Darkness swallowed me as I lost consciousness.

When I woke, I was in an unfamiliar room, lying on a hard cot. The sterile smell and the low murmur of voices told me I was in a knight's station. Panic surged through me as the memories of what I had seen flooded back. I tried to sit up, but my body felt weak and unresponsive.

A gentle hand rested on my shoulder, and I looked up to see a woman with beautiful white hair and piercing blue eyes standing beside me. I recognized her instantly—Lady Sophie Lydaria Seralina von Icevern, a renowned knight from the prestigious Icevern family. Her presence was both comforting and intimidating.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

I couldn't find my voice. Tears welled up in my eyes as the reality of my family's death hit me once again. I shook my head, unable to speak.

Lady Sophie's expression softened. "I'm so sorry for your loss. We need to ask you some questions about what happened. Can you do that?"

I nodded numbly, my mind still reeling. The questions came one after another, but they felt distant, like echoes in a fog. I answered as best as I could, recounting my trip to the market and the horrific scene I had returned to. It all felt surreal, like a terrible dream I couldn't wake up from.

After the questioning, Lady Sophie told me I could rest there for a while. But the thought of returning home, to the place where my family had been so brutally taken from me, was unbearable. I couldn't face it. Instead, I decided to go to the university, the only other place that felt familiar and safe.

I walked through the gates of the academy, my heart heavy with grief. The bustling hallways and chattering students seemed like a different world, one I was no longer a part of. I headed to the lecture hall, hoping that the routine of classes might offer some distraction from the pain.

As I took my seat, the emptiness inside me was overwhelming. I couldn't focus on anything but the image of my family's lifeless bodies. Amberine, a fellow student, leaned over and asked if I was alright. Her concern only added to my irritation. How could anyone understand what I was going through?

"I'm fine," I snapped, though my voice was barely above a whisper. I turned away, not wanting to engage.

The door to the lecture hall opened, and Professor Draven entered with his usual imposing presence. His cold, precise demeanor usually filled me with a sense of dread, but today it was almost a relief. His harshness felt like a welcome distraction from the torment in my mind.

"Neophyte Maris," The Professor's voice cut through the air, making me jump. "Are you alright?"

His question took me by surprise. The Professor never showed a personal interest in his students. I glanced up, meeting his intense gaze. "I'm fine, Professor. Just tired."

Professor Draven studied me for a moment longer before nodding. "Very well. Let's begin."

The lecture was intense, and filled with complex theories and calculations about mana manipulation. Usually, I prided myself on keeping up with The Professor's challenging material, but today I struggled to concentrate. Every now and then, Amberine's questions would interrupt my thoughts, her curiosity about my well-being only adding to my frustration. Couldn't she see I just wanted to be left alone?

Class ended, and I gathered my things, eager to escape. As I walked through the university gates, the reality of my situation hit me once again. My home was no longer a place of comfort and safety. The knights had cleaned the scene, erasing the physical evidence of the massacre, but the images were seared into my mind. My family's bodies had been taken for inspection, but their absence left a gaping hole in my heart.

I wandered the streets aimlessly, unsure of what to do or where to go. Anger and grief twisted inside me, a storm of emotions I couldn't control. I needed answers. I needed to do something.

As night fell, I found myself standing outside a dimly lit tavern. I pulled my father's black cloak tighter around me, trying to summon the courage to enter. I was new to this world, but my desire for vengeance burned hotter than my fear. I stepped inside, the murky atmosphere swallowing me whole.

I made my way to the bar, my heart pounding in my chest. The bartender glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. "What'll it be?" he asked.

I hesitated, then ordered a drink I'd never tried before, hoping it would steady my nerves. As I took a sip, the unfamiliar taste burned my throat, but I didn't care. I had a purpose. I leaned closer to the bartender, my voice low. "Do you know anything-"

"Informations about the Deadly Hollows," Before I could finish my words, a familiar, icy voice cut through the noise of the tavern.