CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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( CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE PAWN OF THE GAME )

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( CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE PAWN OF THE GAME )

               MARIELLA WAS KNOWN FOR her blunt words and snark responses to stupid questions that left the lips of stupid people.

               In that current point in time, she had heavily hoped that her stumble into the library would result to nothing but the means of returning a book that she was reading through in order to gain more knowledge about the spell that the four boys had so recklessly carried out. The idea still sounded somewhat heartfelt the more she thought about it but she was aware of the way it had changed Miaomoryi and her view on the terrors that overruled her. She was aware of the dangers and risks she was taking to be in the middle of war whilst both her family and herself still remain in Europe, both as a muggle-born and a practicing witch. But she honoured the fact that she strived to fight beside her fellow friends, in the hopes of finally being able to stop the growing evil encounters that increased with each passing week that rolled over.

               "How can she be so reckless?" The voice in her head pesters her, beginning to crawl down the back of her neck and starting to send chills within the individual hairs of her skin. For the odd reason that was simply because she was not strong enough to tell her that she should have stayed in Korea.

               She wasn't able to put into words about how she should have remained in the shadows whilst they were left to deal with the darkness in the hopes that it was to never reach her, regardless of her protests. The decision seemed objective but all she wanted was to ensure that she was able to ease into a normal life without the worrying thought of the deaths that were occurring every other second to her left, and to her right, and to her front and to her back. It became more of a difficult twist when she had incidentally made eye contact with the boy she had forced herself to push away from.

               The flood of memories flow through her like the river they were, too easy to process and too easy to make them into a somewhat reality.

               She thinks about Melanie; all the ways that she could possibly slither into her mind and fit through the cracks that the walls simply could not help to consist of, grasping onto a slither of a happy memory, only to twist and manipulate it into something so painful and agonising, that she is left to weep ( an action that doesn't seem like Mariella at all ). But the words that left her lips the very same morning that Blake had accompanied their entrance ring in her ears.

               She was nothing but an asset.

Nonchalantly sitting down in the chair that Miaomoryi had resided from, she sets herself down, another book this time, entangled within the prints of her fingers that wished to find a useful page. The violent shredding of paper that it made as her fingers crossed paths with the material still made his ears cringe from the reoccurring sound that Remus made whilst he laid awake at night with a book in his lap and the candlelight on his dresser.

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