Adrien remembers the first time he'd seen Marinette. He doesn't consider it a meeting, they hadn't even looked at each other straight.
Sitting listlessly in his bedroom as usual, poring over the words to a tome he'd read ten times over already until his brain tired and the words became gibberish, he started hearing subtle sounds coming from the outside of the house. Specifically, over the ceiling of the west tower where his bedroom was. He'd chalked the strange sounds up to the wind, but then he heard footsteps and a small grunt overhead, and he knew it couldn't be.
Gingerly, he poked his head out of his bedroom window and looked to the top of the tower to see a dark haired girl lowered onto her haunches on the shillings, squinting out towards the horizon with a hand shading her eyes. He remembers blinking up at her, astounded. Not knowing what else to do, he called out to her.
She whipped her head around at the call, and when her gaze found him– his shoulders and head sticking outside his window, his neck twisted round as he looked back at the roof– her eyes went wide with shock. Abruptly, the girl zipped away faster than he could wrap his mind around, leaving Adrien unsure if she was ever actually there.
It was strange. It felt like a dream. And then she'd reappeared two days later– stunning Adrien again– for reasons he's never known. He has his guesses, but at the end of the day, whatever her reasons, he doesn't feel they matter anymore. They're good friends with a healthy dynamic, there's no need to sweat the details.
Though he finds himself unable to get over one particular detail.
He turns around to find her magically present in his windowagain. "How are you getting up here?" he asks her, exasperated.
She puts a finger to her lips with a wink that honestly– in Marinette fashion, as he's learning– looks more like a wince, "That's a secret,"
"So, what's your Ality?"
"My what?"
She twists her lips at him, and while it's purely contemplative, Adrien feels as if he's let her down somehow. "You mean you don't know?"
"I guess not,"
She sighs, soft features getting softer. A thoughtful emotion shines in her eyes. "Your Ality is like. . . the raw nature of your latent magic, I guess. Not everyone has an Ality, because not everyone has magic within themselves that they can manipulate. But those that do can use that nature in their magic and sometimes, if you're real good at it, it can manifest physically."
His eyes are drawn to her back, suddenly, with the gentle flutter of something against her shoulder blades and hips, and Adrien finds a set of four neatly folded wings, thin and transparent, resting over her red shirt that usually covers her back unadorned. He outright stares, his manners forgotten.
Adrien soon realizes, eyes becoming round with bewilderment, that it's an explanation (it's also downright strange, though it honestly doesn't disturb him at all); he looks up to her face to see her smiling at him in that way she always has whenever he's asked her how she manages to get all the way up to his rooftop anyway, and she just insists that it's nothing special, or that it's a secret, or that it's the same way she'll be getting down to the ground. Her visage is shy and meaningful at the same time in a way that manifests into a slyness he does not see on her often.
Though he wants to ask her a million things, one of his questions takes such precedence, he almost can't hold it back, "How do you know I have an Ality?" he inquires, the new word feeling awkward on his tongue.
She shrugs. "Fellow magic users have always been able to tell. It's a connection sort of thing."
Hearing that makes Adrien unexpectedly happy. He's always felt a sort of kinship with Marinette, but could never explain why, and has worried that he's just been immaturely latching on to the first kind person he's ever met outside of his father's contacts. Even if this doesn't mean they are friends after all, it at least explains the natural rhythm he feels with her, lets him know that their relationship– whatever its nature– is real.
"But I have to ask, Adrien," Marinette begins, then pauses, looking unsure. Adrien waits patiently for her to decide she wants to continue. Her face is pinched a little around the nose, creating faint lines of distaste, when she does. "Why didn't you know? Your parents should have said something. . ."
Adrien diverts his gaze when she mentions his parents, and he can hear her voice trailing off beside him. She doesn't say anything more. He sighs inwardly at the knowledge that his discomfort is clearly not hidden as well as he'd wanted it to be; he doesn't want to bring down the mood.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Marinette opens her mouth, maybe to take back the inquiry or assure him it doesn't matter, but Adrien answers before she can make her voice work. "My um– my mom. She, ah, died when I was younger,
"Oh–! I'm so sorry," the girls immediately apologizes, her hands rising to her flushed cheeks as her silvery wings shudder nervously against her back, "I'm so sorry I asked."
"Don't worry, it's okay," Adrien assures her. He manages to look at her again now that the hard part is over and he knows the threat of shedding tears has passed. "As for my father, well, he just never mentioned it. He isn't around much anyway, always off doing business or something. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd forgot. . . or never knew in the first place."
"Well. . ." Marinette starts carefully, face still warm, "whatever the reasons. . . now that I know, I can't let you go on without discovering the nature of your magic. It wouldn't be right."
All of Adrien lights up with hope. "You mean. . ?"
Marinatte nods, the flush on her face a happy one now. Adrien likes it much better than the nervous blush she'd worn earlier when she was feeling bad for doing nothing wrong. "I'll teach you how to use your latent abilities."
"Really? You'd do that for me?"
"Of course," she tells him. Her blue eyes shine with a sincerity that makes Adrien flush himself, so unused to unbridled kindness. "I want to help you. Not only as a fellow magician, but as your friend."
Adrien's heart stutters in his chest. Not only does it appear that he has magic, which he never believed he would be lucky or worthy enough to have, he has a friend willing to help him figure it out. He's always been convinced that this reality would forever remain within his dreams, distant and nonexistent; it's actually very nearly all he's dreamt of of late. All that's missing is a glittering ivory steed that will spirit him away in the night and return him safe in the morning, unbeknownst to his father.
The boy looks to the girl perched on his windowsill. He finds her wings tucked neatly against her back. He isn't entirely sure what kind of creature she is, but whatever it be, he thinks it magnificent, and he knows her magic, whenever she shows it to him, will be just as wonderful. It leads Adrien to wonder what nature his magic will reflect. Will it be as beautiful as hers? as elegant? He wonders if he'll be as good a magician as her, eventually able to transfigure his body. Will he be a handsome hybrid, or will he scare others away? Will he be able to change back?
As consuming as the urge is to spit up all the concerns at once, Adrien only gives voice to a single of his thoughts, "Thank you," he breathes, mouth stretching into a bright grin, "You have no idea how much this means to me."
"You're welcome, Adrien. But it's really no trouble at all," Marinette glances away in a bashful manner not unlike her, knuckles brushing against her cheek in an interesting habit, "I like you. I'm sure we'll have lots of fun."
"Yeah,"
With a warm smile and an awkward segue, Marinette bids him goodnight. Adrien reciprocates the farewell even though he doesn't want to stop talking with her.
As she rises to her feet, he expects her to balance herself on the window's frame and pull herself onto the roof, like usual. Instead, she drops from the window forwards, arms splayed out like she's embracing the wind. Adrien panics once he sees her fall, his heart jumping in his chest, but then he sees her rise on the air, her wings beating softly and rapidly. He watches, awestruck, as she flutters away, disappearing into the dark. Even after she's out of sight, Adrien stares after her through the formless black.
He waits for the low hum of her wings to fully fade away before finally returning to bed.
With the right focus, his magic comes to him easily. Marinette praises him as a natural– again, from the frame of his window, this time balanced miraculously on her bottom with her back leaning against one side of the frame, ankles crossed in front of her.
He's seen a lot of impressive magic from her in the last few days, but her impeccable balance still impresses him more for some reason.
"I think you're ready to discover your Ality,"
"Really?" Adrien asks, letting the glimmer spell dancing on his palms fall with his hands. Dark, dusky sands of an impossible number of glimmering grains devolves into wispy swirls that dissipate into nothing. It isn't as pretty as Marinette's pearlescent, rosy magic, but Adrien has learned to like it. "You said it normally takes years."
"It does, but that's because the magician has to come of an appropriate age to embark on the journey. You're already mature enough. Besides, you have a very impressive control over your power already."
"I don't know. Are you sure?"
Marinette crosses her arms over chest and raises an eyebrow. "When my parents sent me to find my Ality, I was fourteen and still shooting the glimmer spell out of my nose every time I sneezed."
The image is adorable to Adrien, but he doesn't tell her that. "Okay, I admit that makes me feel better."
Marinette playfully hits his shoulder. "You're not supposed to say that so quickly!"
"Oh– oookaaay, III aaadmiiit–"
"You know what I meant!" Marinette laughs.
The two exchange a series of playful, half-hearted swats as Marinette gets him again, Adrien retaliates, and the cycle continues. It breaks when Adrien retreats far enough into his bedroom that Marinette can't reach him. They sober, and he approaches the window again.
"So. . . you've never actually told me what the journey entails. What do I do?"
"Every magician enters the nearest forest with a talisman bestowed to them by their. . parents," she pauses at parents, but not for long, which Adrien appreciates. "But you can always make your own, it'll work just as well. The talisman is a stone with magic-imbued carvings on it that acts as a compass. It'll guide you into an in-between realm called the Endless Forest. In the forest, you'll face trials meant to bring you to certain realizations about yourself and this awareness is what will allow you to decipher and use your Ality. It's always initiated on the night of a full moon, so we'll have to get you a talisman soon."
Adrien nods along as she speaks, showing that he's listening. When she finishes, he has a thought. "So it sounds like I'll–" Adrien begins, and he has to swallow the dread that threatens to stop his words. "I'll have to do this alone."
"Yes," Marinette nods, "That's the way it must be. But I know you'll be okay. You're stronger than you think, Adrien,"
Adrien rests his head in his crossed arms, leaning against the wide window frame by her ankles. "I guess," he murmurs. He doesn't think Marinette hears him.
He looks out the window to the horizon as his thoughts start to drift. The sun has fallen behind the tree line and blue chases peachy hues toward it as the world darkens. The warm light glistens against dew on his window frame, left from the afternoon showers. Looking at those drops, knowing how small they are, he finds it hard to comprehend the vastness of the world beyond. "I've never been outside father's properties before," he says, making sure he's loud enough to be heard this time. "What's the world out there like?"
Marinette leans forward to wrap her crossed arms around her knees, following his line of sight. "Dangerous,"
Adrien casts his gaze down; it seems there's more truth to his father's paranoid words than he would like. Anxiety builds as he wonders what's in store for him out there.
A gentle touch to his chin makes Adrien look up at his friend, who smiles down at him. "But it's also beautiful and fun, and at times, completely worth the danger."
Adrien immediately brightens. The bitterness that was settling in his chest lessens, but only a little.
"Listen." Marinette continues, her voice firming. "The single greatest mistake you can make out there is underestimating yourself. If you don't believe you can do it, you won't. Your magic is only limited by the limits you put on yourself. Trust me, I learned the hard way,"
Marinette looks down at her hands with a faraway look, and Adrien knows she's reliving her own days in the Endless Forest. He wonders what she went through.
"You're right," Adrien agrees. He pushes himself up to stand, abandoning his sulking pose. "I've made a lot of progress. And if you made it through when you couldn't even control your spells–"
"Hey–"
"–I'm sure I can do it."
Marinette smiles that soft smile of hers, the one full of tenderness and care for the things she loves, the one he's seen her wear every time she talks about her parents. Directed at him, it makes his heart flutter, and when she lightly rests a hand on his, he feels his pulse rise.
"You do know you don't have to do this, right? You can still be a great magician without it."
"I know, but I want to. I want to do everything I can with this power."
"That's the spirit." she giggles.
Adrien nods, the sound oddly leaving his mind blank.
Adrien gazes down at the smooth stone in his hands with mysterious glyphs and the stylized image of a bird engraved into it. According to Marinette, it's a common design for talismans that guide magicians into the Endless Forest. The dark stone fills his palm comfortably, always cool to the touch.
"I can shorten the journey by flying you into the nearest forest," his friend tells him, "but traveling through the in-between will still take several days. What will you tell your father?"
"He's not going to come looking for me," Adrien says, shrugging, resisting the temptation to turn his gaze lateral. He meets her eyes instead. "He left for another business trip yesterday. This one is supposed to be with an ally from a far away land, so it'll be at least a week's time. But it usually takes more."
"Okay then," Marinette swallows. He can see the sadness and concern in her gaze, but thankfully, pity is absent. Adrien is obliged for her again as she presses her lips into a flat line and doesn't linger on the matter, instead looking on with determination. She hops into the air and is suspended there as she holds her hand out to him.
"Are you ready?"
It's the very middle of the night. The moon shines full and bright behind her, lending her entire body a soft glow. Moonlight filters through her wings to reveal the frail and abstract webbed structure inside; moving so fast, they appear as her magic does, pearlescent and shimmering, a tangible vibration of light. Light makes its way into her eyes, making her bluebell irises gleam like precious stones, and her hair shines like water in the dark.
It's not the first time Adrien's thought she is pretty. And as most of the times before, a light blush touches his cheeks when he thinks of her that way, because he's a boy and she's a girl, and– and they're just friends, and it's never the appropriate time to be thinking about this. Especially not now. He'll have to address these feelings later. He needs to focus on the task at hand. If Marinette is to be believed (which she is, she's never led him astray), it'll take everything he has.
He breathes out an anxious answer, carefully taking the hand she's offered with his unoccupied hand. Upon contact, his heart flutters with anticipation, "Yeah,"
His stomach ties in knots when she lifts him into the sky.